#like it is his circus his monkey and he is going to use an opportunity to ignore this if he can and rant about it to his friends instead

[prlssprfctn]

Kinda need the whole family being tired as fuck from Tim's love stories and drama, so they send him away every time he finds a new crush.

Tim, struggling on how to confess to Kon: Hey, Dick, can you give me a dating advice? Dick: Oh, sure Dick, beaming cluelessly: Are you back with Steph? Tim: Oh no, I- Dick: Oh, right, sorry! Bart, right? Tim, embarrassed: No, I was- Dick: Omg, sorry, it was, uh, Bern? Tim: You know what... Forget it. Tim: *leaves* Dick, sighing in relief: Works every time. I hate giving dating advices.

Tim: Steph, can I have a dating advice? Steph, unimpressed: Are you cheating on someone again? Tim: ...Whatever.

Tim: Bruce- Bruce, hopeful: Yeah? Need help with something? Tim, thinking twice: ...Uh, actually no. Bruce: :(

Tim, stopping in front of Damian's door, unsure: ... Damian, right through the closed door: Drake. Spare us both. Tim: *groan*

Tim: So, I have this situation... Duke: Wait, I'll put the voice message recording, I need to send this to Cass, while she is on the mission Tim: Oh my god, MY LIFE IS NOT EVEN THAT MESSY! FORGET IT.

Tim, seething through his teeth on Jason's doorstep: You are my last hope. I am not even kidding. Jason: Woah. What happened to Alfie? Tim, with his eye twitching: He started to reminisce about his romance with Lizzie. Like, Queen Elizabeth. Lizzie. I can't listen to this any more. I need fucking advice. How to confess to Kon. Jason, who constantly writes fanfiction, but since his love life is non-existent at this point, uses his family's messy dating histories as an inspiration and references: ...Okay. Tim, gagged: Seriously? Jason: Yeah. Just work with me. What we are working with? Bridgerton ass romance? Miss Austen type of flair? Bronte's kind of insanity? Tim, sniffling: tHanK yOu

[bisonaari]

I don't know if it has been done here before because I don't look around, but I have thoughts about the album and I need to share them with someone or I'm gonna go INSANE

Put your tinfoil hats on for my analysis of everything around People's Champion under the cut (probably people have talked about it and I'm just gonna repeat stuff, be warned)

So I've been a bit insane about People's Champion and I've started to think super hard about the order of the songs. I think, in my opinion, that the songs are arranged to tell the story of his life and career from right after UMK 2023 until now.

Ready To Go: This is where we start. Just post UMK, people didn't fully believe in him yet. I remember people saying "oh yeah sweden is sending someone who already won esc, but we're sending… Jere from Vantaa????". Hence the chorus, where people want to see him fail. But he's ready, he knows that he can do it. He's gonna go through and give his EVERYTHING. The mood of the song is really hopeful, with big intense guitar.

Cha Cha Cha: Do I need to explain this one here? I'm still not over this hahaha, I don't think I'll ever be. But this is where events take a turn for him, hence why it's so early in the album, even though it's his biggest song. Because he has so much to say after Cha Cha Cha happened.

Takavoltti: This is where things start to fuck up. He doesn't want to stay on his butt now that he has achieved celebrity and starts to take on so many, many gigs. A lot of us were worried for his health when we saw how much he was performing during summer 2023. But in the song, he says that he only saw opportunities and he just had to continue to take them. It takes a toll on his body. It starts to hurt, but he goes through it. That mad man. Also a couple of times in the song, people ask him to do stuff. Like a little circus monkey. And he just ends up hurting himself.

Ruoska: The bad comments start to really get to him. In the video, Erika and Käärijä are both dressed and perform as aliens. They've completely been striped of their humanity. They're just gimmicks that you can insult anonymously on the internet. Who cares anyway, they chose this life for themselves. It's their own fault. While the previous song was still a bit on the funny side, this one digs straight into the hardships that they feel. There is no more humour, only pain.

Kot Kot: He's still doing too much. While everyone has gone home, he's still drunk on the dancefloor, trying to reach out for friends who were wiser and left. He's being dragged out of there against his will, because he's so stubborn. Pushing through isn't working anymore, and people around him aren't letting him hurt himself anymore.

Skit: An appointment with a therapist. Käärijä is being cut off CONSTANTLY by the therapist, who can't see Jere as a patient. He sees Käärijä, the star. Even when he's trying to seek help, he isn't listened to. Because he's not human anymore for people at that point.

Autiomaa: Käärijä is breaking down. In the video, the therapist from the skit is taking a picture of him during the appointment. The feeling of loneliness and emptiness is around him all the time, omnipresent, eating him alive. He just wants someone to see him as a person, to listen to him, to help him with the void.

Sex=Money: At that point, you know, might as well. You're not human anymore, who cares. Why not try to get some money selling your ass. Who's gonna care anyway, sex sells and that's what people want to see, right? He made so much money on onlyfans, the press is acting shocked that he would even do that. The song is back to a bit light-hearted. My interpretation would be that he just finds the situation ridiculous, and that's why we're getting humour back in the lyrics!

Bananas: I'm not sure how this one fits in my theory, but we're SO back for humour. Kääriä is getting better. I think that in this one he found resolve to just continue going on. He's annoyed because people still only see him as an object, but he has to go through and live his life. Show must go on.

Huhhuhhei: Quite interesting to put a love song in this timeline in the story. But I think it's because he wants to live in the present, and not in anxieties from the past and the fear of the future. He doesn't know if the person sharing his bed is still gonna be there in the morning, but whatever, it's not important. Tonight, they're his and that's what matters. Thinking of tomorrow isn't gonna bring anything good.

It's Crazy It's Party: He's still stuck in the parties, they're around him all the time. He's still doing a million gigs in Finland and in europe. And just as the song is quite close to Cha Cha Cha, he's back at the beginning, the situation hasn't changed much. But this time, by the end, he goes to the party again, by his own will. And this time, he has people around to party with him.

People's Champion: We're back babes. This song is a love letter to people who love him. This is a great wrap around for this album. He's just remembering how everything went, from the start, until this point. Going through every point and emotion we've been through with him during the album. But in the end, he IS people's champion. He did it. He made it. And even with all the hardships, he's with us, when our hearts all sing together. The last line of this album that isn't a chorus is "Thank you everybody, I love you".

What a journey

So something that you have noticed that I've talked a lot is how people don't recognize Käärijä's humanity. He has been made into a kind of creature of gimmicks. You can ask him everything, you can say everything to his face. Whatever, he's a celebrity, not a person.

And this is where that cover is a GENIUS move.

On the cover, there are NO gimmicks. No bolero, no bowl cut, no bare chest with a tattoo. Just his face. You HAVE to watch his face, there is nothing else to see. You have to watch his emotion being raw, he's crying. This is not a pleasant cover to see. And I know, I've had spotify open on his face all day friday while I was working, it felt awful. But it makes you do something.

You have to acknowledge his humanity. And there's no way around it.

I love Käärijä

[kasagia]

❄️️Warm my heart pt. 8 (end)❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: Winter Fiesta at Christmas? Great idea. After all, there is no better opportunity to end the drama that has been going on between you and the general than at a huge ball thrown by Lantsov. Word Count: 3,6k Taglist:@aoi-targaryen @budugu @flostvs1508 @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova’s Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 7 ~•♤♤♤•~

You liked Christmas, but the winter fete that preceded it was a terrible event.

Especially since this year you weren't leaving to visit your brother right away, and in the next few hours you were going to find out whether the man you gave your heart to was really an immortal, power-hungry monster who would stop at nothing to achieve his goal.

In hindsight, you would probably prefer to endure the snark and rudeness of your grandparents and your siblings.

You took a shaky breath as you walked out of the Little Palace. At the exit, you met Fedyor and Ivan, who reconciled after Ivan promised to meet his family. The bastard knew it would be impossible this year, so he agreed, but as long as Fedyor is happy about it, then you are too.

Fedor's worse half separates from you as they reach the great hall of the king's palace.

You and Fedyor blend in with the crowd of other Grisha. You manage to grab a glass of champagne and sip it while watching the people around you. You unconsciously look at Alina, which Fedyor immediately notices.

"Are you waiting for the big show?" he asks, referring to the little show of power Alina and Aleksander were about to do.

Luckily, you missed out on being a circus monkey at the party this year (you suspect Aleksander didn't want to anger you more), so all you had to do was try to get through the last few hours as pain-free as possible.

"I can't wait." you say sarcastically, grabbing something sweet from the snack table. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice your friend smirking. "What is it? What did you do?"

"I? Nothing at all," he lies, leaning on the table and grabbing something to eat.

"I know you too well for you to lie to me. I've seen this conspiratorial smile more than once. What's going on?" you ask, looking at him carefully and expectantly.

Before you can push him further to speak, Genya joins you, saving the man from your further investigation. She shows you some Inferni tricks. When you look away, they both exchange knowing glances, and Fedyor silently thanks her for saving him.

"You look pretty." Genya comments, turning to you as the three of you eat the sweets. Take advantage of the opportunity while you can. In the Little Palace, you rarely ate anything other than those nasty herrings. "I like your earrings. Moonstone, right?"

"David made them for me. Initially, they were supposed to be… something else, but he had enough material to make me earrings as well."

"Yes, he is very talented. And what was most of it he spent on making?" she asks curiously as you three walk to a more distant part of the room where there are much fewer people.

"A ring."

"A ring? I don't see any on your finger."

"It wasn't supposed to be for me. Christmas gift." you explain vaguely.

The ring was supposed to be for Aleksander... no proposal or anything else. He recently lost his ring, so you asked David to make him a new one, practically the same as his old one but with a piece of moonstone inside.

"Oh, I see. You know, David told me that the moonstone has… a very special meaning," she says teasingly.

"Really? And how often do the two of you talk like that?" you ask just as teasingly, and she blushes too.

You both laugh, and only now do you notice that Fedyor has also disappeared somewhere, leaving you and Genya alone.

"May I ask who that special gift is?"

"I... I haven't decided yet." you tell her what is actually true.

This evening was to decide everything. That evening, Aleksander was to put his plan into action. If he really decided to use Alina in his plans... you had a backup plan ready. Which you hoped you wouldn't have to use.

You notice Aleksander as soon as he enters the room.

And you are speechless at the sight of him.

At the sight of his black kefta embroidered with red threads.

He gives you a short, meaningful look and goes to greet the royal family. You turn immediately towards Genya with a questioning look, and she simply shrugs.

"He wanted a matching kefta." she explains, but she frowns at your growing excitement. "But I want you to be careful. He's… a powerful man. Even if you tamed him a little."

You are going to deny her words, defend him, and say that he is not as bad as everyone makes him out to be, but you are speechless for the second time when soon after Alina enters the room in a black kefta with gold embroidery.

You shake your head, laughing bitterly.

"Apparently not." you say, staring at Alin with envy. The bitter bile of jealousy and hurt wells up inside you as you try to focus on your anger rather than the tears welling up in your eyes.

Genya stares at her as surprised as you, searching for someone in the crowd.

"I don't understand… after all…"

"Don't worry, I understand." you say firmly and coldly, making the redhead shiver. You ignore her, staring at Alina as she approaches Aleksander from behind, surprising him when she smiles sweetly at him. "And I'm not going to be part of this fucking threesome."

You leave Genya alone before she can say anything. You don't stay for the Alina and General show. You just walk out, pushing your way through the crowd and finding the back exit where the fewest guards are patrolling. All you wanted was to disappear into the shadows.

Aleksander looked for you frantically after Alina approached him. But he doesn't see you anywhere. You left Genya alone, and he wasn't able to spot you in the crowd.

He did his little show with the Sun Summoner and left her with her friends. He moved quickly towards the exit, catching Genya's gaze. The woman immediately followed him. They both left the room and went into the corridor, where Fedyor was already waiting for them.

"What happened there?" he asks them furiously. "Who gave her that damn kefta? That wasn't the plan."

"Um… David saw Baghra leaving the Grand Palace."

Aleksander frowns in anger at Fedyor's words. He clenches his fists and takes a few breaths to calm himself down. His mother always had to destroy everything that was good. He should've predicted it.

"And where is she now?" he asks through gritted teeth.

"Baghra?" Fedyor asks hesitantly as Genya gently moves towards him.

"Y/N!!" they both tremble when they hear him shouting. Shadows circle him, giving him an even more ominous look. He sighs when he sees the fear in their eyes, and with a wave of his hand, everything returns to normal. “I meant Y/N.” he says more calmly, slightly embarrassed by his sudden outburst.

"We do not know. David followed her, but she vanished from his sight."

"Vanished?" Fedyor nods. Aleksander immediately thinks of his mother. Only she and he knew the exact location of the hidden corridors in the Grand and Little Palace. She had to take you. Convince you finally that he is a monster. "I want our men at every exit gate around the castle, at every exit and entrance, and at the sewers that lead from here. As soon as you see her, you are to capture her and alert the rest."

"Baghra or Y/N?"

"Both!" he says angrily, walking towards the exit of the palace. "And you two are to guard the Sun Summoner. I don't want her to disappear too."

He doesn't go far before Ivan catches up with him with the news that there was an attack on Alina. He freezes in his steps. It cannot be split.

He can either look for you or protect the Sun Summoner.

And the choice is simple for him.

You kept your hand pressed tightly to your mouth to keep from making any sound as you walked down the hall of the Grand Palace. Tears flowed freely from your eyes, somehow making their way through your hand and into your mouth so you could taste the saltiness of your defeat.

He chose Alina. Actually, both of you, but what difference did it make? You made it clear to him that you wouldn't be just another pushover in his life, just another face among many others. You wanted everything or nothing. Nothing half-hearted, no half-truths, and no being THE OTHER WOMEN.

As you walk and cry, you don't notice something suddenly moving in the shadows, and listening to the heartbeat of someone who might be hiding in a secret passageway in the hall is the last thing on your mind right now.

That's how someone grabs you tightly by the arm in an aching hug and drags you along with them to the hidden exit of the castle. You struggle and freeze, both shocked and irritated, as you see who caught you.

"Baghra? What the hell do you want?" you ask irritably, not wanting her to see you like this. You pull your hand from her grip and wipe the remaining tears from your face.

"I'm helping you, child. Do you think Aleksander won't send people after you who will lead you back to him like some pet?"

"I don't need your help." you growl, backing away from her in anger.

"You think so? So c'mon. Go, run away by yourself. I am sure he will find you. Maybe he will even put a collar on you too. You, Alina and Aleksander will have so much fun together."

You stand still, listening to her words like poison. You shake your head and turn to face her, watching her smirk with spite.

"You know what? I'm not surprised that he... that he thinks what he's doing is right. If he told me even a little bit of the truth about himself, then I know how you treated him. How you shaped him. So don't be surprised that your son became what he became when all you showed him was how to take advantage of other people and how to not care about anyone but his own goals and needs. Maybe if you hadn't run away from all those who are supposedly not worthy of your attention and hadn't taught him the same things, he would have turned out completely differently. Maybe if you saw him as something more than a creator of the fold, a Black Heretic, everything would be different. And don't worry. I can handle everything perfectly on my own."

You leave her in the secret corridor and don't look back as you return to the main halls of the Grand Palace.

Aleksander was furious. No one saw you, no one could find you. He ran out of the Little Palace and headed straight for the stables. You had to sneak out somehow. He hoped that maybe he would ride his horse around the area and find you.

He doesn't wait for the horseboy. He approaches his horse and saddles it quickly and expertly. He has his foot in the stirrup when he hears movement near the entrance.

"Are you going somewhere?" you ask, leaning against the entrance with your arms crossed.

He freezes, blinking a few times, making sure you're not some sort of vision, ghost, or other creature tormenting him. When he realises you're standing there in your body, he jumps off his horse and runs towards you. He hugs you to his chest and buries his nose in your hair. He lets out a shaky breath, inhaling your scent.

"Saints, where have you been?" he asks, not letting you move away from him. He needs to feel you close.

"On the way. Far from here. I turned back when I heard that there was an attack on Alina. Did anything happen to anyone?" you ask worriedly, moving away from him. He doesn't let you go far, just enough to look at him.

"I… I don't know." he admits, embarrassed, and you frown, looking at him in disbelief.

"How don't you know?"

"I left. I left Ivan, Fedyor, and Zoya in charge. I… I had to find you."

His confession makes your heart melt, and you bite your lips, holding back the sudden urge to kiss him. Your brain gets back on track as you start to think again about how your friends and other Grisha handle another attack on Sun Summoner.

"We have to come back to them." you tell him as you somehow manage to get out of his grasp and turn towards the exit.

"Wait... please." he says this and quickly overtakes you, blocking your only escape route. You stare into his dark eyes for a moment before shifting your gaze to his horse, which is watching the two of you closely. He doesn't let you take your eyes off him for long. He gently grabs your chin and forces you to meet his pleading gaze. "Talk to me."

"About what? We have nothing to talk about." you say, glaring at him defiantly.

Common sense screams at you to run away from him. He wasn't just the red flag; he was the whole red carpet. But how can you leave him when those dark eyes look at you so pleadingly, when he clings to you like to the anchor, like to the only thing that holds him sane?

"If that were true, you'd be on your way, far away. I know you could get through all those people I put on guard, even me. If we didn't have anything to talk about, I… I wouldn't be looking for you like a mad man, leaving the Little Palace in such a situation without my supervision. You know that."

"Why are you wearing a kefta with red embroidery? Why did Alina replace her blue one with a black one? You can't have a cake and eat it at the same time, Aleksander. I want... I want to be the only one for you... as you are the only one for me, even though this shouldn't happen. Even though I know what you did, but... I can't help seeing you as... as someone more than my general or the Darkling. I... please, just don't prove me I am that naive to love you."

You lift your head to look at him just as he leans down to capture your lips with his.

You stand there in shock for a moment, but you respond to his kiss with equal parts fervour, passion, and need. He wraps one hand around your waist, and the other gently cups your cheek, tilting your head to a different side to give him better access to your mouth. You moan into the kiss, grabbing the lapels of his kefta and pulling him even closer to you.

The thought occurs to you that he looks good in red.

His cold fingertips tease the hot skin of your neck as he begins to undo the buttons on your kefta. A shiver runs through you as you break away from him, realising that you two still have a few more things to explain before you can finally let yourself lose yourself in him.

"Wait, wait." he listens to you and immediately pulls away from you, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. He licks his lips and is about to ask you a question when you interrupt him. "Nothing happened. You didn't do anything wrong; I just need to know. What about Alina? And the fold?"

"She means nothing to me. She is nothing compared to you. She is just a means to an end, and I… might have changed my plans a little bit."

"What do you mean?" you ask, crossing your arms. He sighs and looks at you for a long time before answering.

"I'm not known for making noble decisions. But know that everything I do—everything I wanted to do—I did for Grisha's sake. And I admit... these were not good for everyone. I wanted to seduce Alina. Make her trust me, make her rely only on me, and take advantage of her. But then I promoted you. I needed help with the papers—someone who wouldn't question my authority and for whom Grisha's well-being was as important as mine. And you ruined all my plans after the first day when you argued with me about sending our people through the fold. I... for the first time in hundreds of years, I had someone who wasn't afraid to say what she thought. Someone who respected my opinion even if she didn't agree with it. I felt that… that I didn't have to be this monster around you, that I didn't have to keep up my image. That I don't have to be a Darkling for you to respect me. And I know I'm far from being a good man, but with you... with you, I remember what I was like before all this happened, before this whole thing with the fold. What I was fighting for. What I believed in. I thought that that man died a long time ago, but with you, I am... I can be just my old self. The one I really missed. The only one of many of my... well, version of myself that I didn't play or create for survival purposes. I live with you. Not just keep fighting to survive for the better times. So please believe me that when I say I love you, I say it from the deepest truth, from the remnants of my heart that I still have after the centuries I have lived. The remnants that you picked up and brought back to life, my little almighty heartrender. You don't have to want me back. I don't suspect you will… just please don't leave. Don't leave me again alone in my darkness."

And what can you say? What can you do other than go up to him and kiss him like you've never kissed anyone else? You don't know who is more surprised—you, him, or that damned horse neighing in the background, ruining your perfect moment. But you don't care. You kiss your shadow summoner and try to convince him that, from now on, he will never be alone. At least as long as you breathe.

"I have something for you," you say later that night as you lie in his arms in his bed.

After your little make-out session, you returned to the Little Palace and took care of everything. Baghra was gone, Alina was safe (with Mal returning after Aleksander had abandoned his search for the deer), and everyone in the palace had somehow survived another attack.

"I don't need anything except for you to stop squirming so much," he murmurs into your neck, tightening his grip on you as you try to reach for your kefta, which is discarded on the floor next to the bed.

"Aleksander!” you squeal, laughing when he touches the sensitive spot on your waist, making you tickle. "Don't you dare." you say, seeing his malicious look. "I'm serious. Tickle me, and I'll fly out the door, not caring who sees me naked."

"I'll remember that." he huffs, offended, and buries his face in your neck. His beard tickles your skin, and even more tickles your sensitive skin, where he left a few hickeys on it.

You somehow manage to reach into your kefta and take out a canvas pouch. You place it on Alexander's chest, smiling excitedly as he pulls away from you gently and takes the item, examining it in his hands.

"What is it?"

"Your Christmas' gift. Open it."

He doesn't question your order. He pulls you towards him so that you're sitting between his legs and leaning against his chest. He hugs you, holding you close to him and resting his chin on your head as he opens his pouch and selects a ring. You feel him hold his breath, and his heart speeds up.

"Don't worry; I'm not proposing to you. I'm not crazy enough to do it so quickly. Besides, I'm quite a traditionalist when it comes to this. I'll wait for my ring. I just know you lost yours somewhere and… I thought it would be a nice gift."

"Is this a moonstone?" you nod at his question.

"Do you like it?"

He doesn't answer. He places a kiss on your head and hands you the ring. He sticks out his left hand, obviously wanting you to put it on his finger.

You do it with trembling hands. It looks good on his finger. And the possessive thought crosses your mind that he is truly yours now.

"I have nothing for you, milaya. You'll have to wait before I pick up your gift from David and Genya." you turn around in his arms with a smile.

"I already have my gift. You let me warm your heart. That's all I wanted." he gives you that charming smile and kisses you. You smile against his lips, feeling his arms around you again as he pins you to the mattress to shower you with kisses again, hickeys and all his attention, whispering against your skin with every kiss how much he loves you and needs you.

And in the morning, you find a beautiful black kefta with red embroidery and a ring that matches the one you gave him. And as you hear his heartbeat against yours, you decide it's the best Christmas you've ever had.

[saxandviolins77]

DEEPLY curious about your vision irt devastator and starscream, do you have any extended thoughts on that? (beautiful baseball piece btw! the pose is very dynamic, the colors rich, and i really adore how devious Devy looks in your style)

The general throughline is:

What if the bratty 60-year-old commander and the bratty 17-year-old living weapon had beef with each other?

Additional context undercut

So, I already mentioned this before, but Scrapper and Starscream are "divorced," and while Scrapper simply does not care for SS whole existence and finds him the most tiresome person he ever knew (especially after he enlisted), Starscream, on the other hand, LOATHES him. So much so that he goes out of his way to blow everything Scrapper does out of proportion to make him seem like an awful person (they both are, but Starscream is making shit up at this point).

Why am I talking about Scrapper and Starscream?

Because Starscream does not understand combiners. AT ALL. So he thinks Scrapper and Devastator are the same person and treats him accordingly. He thinks this way and refuses to change his mind because 1. thinking of Scrapper as this guy who gets the smallest bit of power and becomes an infantile attention-seeker loudmouthed jerk works great for the version of Scrapper he made in his mind, and 2. He can't grasp teamwork, so obviously the other Constructicons are lending their free will to that egocentric psycho!

Now, to our big teenager... He just wants a friend... Or just a meaningful relationship.

You see, most people either idolize Devastator or find him scary or disturbing (Decepticons included). So he doesn't have many people to talk to; Soundwave is his manager, but she made it very clear that their relationship is strictly professional, and she makes sure to not give any openings for any sort of "friendship" (he still thinks of her as his best friend).

SO STARSCREAM.

Starscream is the only guy on the Victory that dares to talk smack to Devastator (because in his mind Devy = Scrapper); at first, he's pissed because he has never experienced something like this before, so he treats Starscream as he would any upstart Autobot.

But Starscream keeps bickering with him and keeps treating Devastator as if they're old friends or something... So he starts playing into it and actually having a back-and-forth with him... And it's like... An actual conversation and Starscream treats him like a person!

Devastator very much hates Starscream's attitude and sometimes just smacks him, but he still has that weird urge to not be viewed by him as a dork, so he'll really play up his act to seem "cool". He also gets sick enjoyment when Starscream finds himself in a pickle and goes running to him for help (when not mindwashed, he'll happily use this as an opportunity to be a brat).

So uh... It's a very messy non-relationship where both sides have completely different ideas of what is going on in the other's mind... Except for Soundwave, who's looking from the sidelines and thinking: "Not my circus, not my monkeys... 😑"

SIDE NOTE: Lol, yeah, I think I did pretty well in that piece. Devastator is a pain in the ass to draw, and I insist on always drawing full bodies. Glad it could be read as a baseball pose (it's a windup because he'd be a pitcher... Because he canonically has a good throwing arm... Trust.) Also, suspend your disbelief because he could never pose like that in a real-world scenario, no kidding.

[hcfiles]

They want you to ignore and forget so you won't question and they won't have to introduce the perfect fake couple life with a cute baby. Because, there is no real baby! Not his! That paternity plot is a fallacy. Unless he decided to adopt her child. That's why the haters are accusing the ones like me of being a hater. I'm not a hater, I just see the plot for what it is and write about it.

We're not the ones exposing Natalie Viscuso to public execration. She did that brilliantly to herself, for she's so stupid she used this PR stunt as an opportunity to degrade herself and show off as a retarded bitch repeating what she did years ago on MTV, using the PR as the party, the internet as the place for the party and his fans as the colleagues she bullied, humiliated and kept outside the party. But, this time she got what she deserved snd he ended up trying to back off her plans with the fake paternity when he saw it wasn't going well for him.

Not that he wasn't aware of her initial plans. He was just naive to believe it would work well for him (An idiocy). And when it didn't, he ran away, hid and couldn't face what he had done. We weren't the ones exposing a pregnant woman to the crowd like a monkey in a circus. Henry did that proudly. We weren't the ones who came up with the paternity fallacy. He did. We weren't the ones to use this shenanigan to crack the fandom apart. He did, with the intention to put fans against fans so some would do their dirty job. They just wanted attention.

All we did was to respond accordingly. But, they lost control of the situation, because this man is adorable, but a dude! He has high IQ, but low emotional intelligence. He made one bad decision after the other, apparently without proper professional advice and support. The proof is they had to use Natalie's promiscuous friends to record fake videos and pretend on the internet they had seen the couple together. It was such an insistence in trying to prove this PR was real that it became a joke.

It's as if he and Natalie had planned this shit without a professional team to support it, because it was amateur. Whoever was managing this, underestimated the fandom, wasn't professional enough and made a mistake after the other. And, instead of damage control, they put more fuel to fire. They thought that putting fans against fans (unscrupulous) would make their mistakes go away and make people ignore the circus as if it never happened.

But, he was weak, a coward and took no responsibility, preferring to hide and point fingers, accusing fans of not being "enlightened". Ouch! Who do you think you are, mister? Fame got to his head and he was driven by stupidity taking two passengers: greed and vanity. He started believing in his own fake plots and got sloppy with his integrity, while his manager pumped his Ego. Do you really believe he "collects" all those girlfriends as a keychain collection? Please! Give me a break! Much easier to believe the guy is gay or, at least, bi.

Driving against the flow (smaller as time goes by), I end up being called a jealous hater, obsessed by the man, just because I ask about the baby. Well, I'm as obsessed as he is toxic. But, that doesn't affect me, 'cause I know I'm only painting the situation as it is and this shakes a part of his fandom and threatens their beliefs. Deep inside, they know the truth. That's why they are so pissed with the content of this page.

Not that I need to say, but I write about different subjects with different contents, on different platforms. Henry Cavill's shit show is just one of them, in this case, because it entertains me. Especially, when I see blind minions get so mad for so little and because, I'm here curious to see the reactions of the minions when the real deal behind this shenanigan is exposed. It will be hilarious 😂!

He brought the fake romance, the dubious pregnancy, the paternity fallacy for attention to promote their image (How low!). Now, that she's dull and embarrassed for what she accomplished, I want to see the "happy in love and in life" couple with their sweet little one in a warm and lovely scene, announcing the engagement and talking about the future wedding. Come on, Henry Cavill! Expose and share your paternity and your happiness love for your promiscuous with the world. Your minions' soldiers would love it.

[shmowder]

omg ,, so happy that u like Jucika <3 she's been rattling around in my head for So long that it's nice to finally release her into the world. I have a Big soft spot for female characters who fandoms HATE for almost no reason because they are so special to me . before the event ends !! more info on my weird special girl:

I think her interactions with each healer would vary wildly. ESPECIALLY if Dankovsky tried to pull shenanigans with her (though, i do think she would ultimately give him a second chance to be more considerate - she does believe he wants to help in his own asshole pretentious way). I feel as though she would work best with Artemy, but that's just because he is my special insane guy - she sees him as someone who's gotten the short end of the stick and just needs a BREAK. As for Clara, she's FASCINATED by her and the spirituality of the town, so she would probably have a bit of a soft spot for her antics. She doesn't care for the politics of the town as a whole, but does recognize that she will need to unfortunately pick sides at some point despite her preference to stay out of things she doesn't know enough about. Not her monkeys, not her circus.

She does hold more sway over you than you might realize; she essentially gets to decide whether you're going to make it out of this alive and with her help, or alone and actively having to push against her efforts to independently attend to the sick. I think she would screw you over by RUINING your reputation with certain people by badmouthing you at every opportunity, but in a subtle way where you can't quite tell if she's insulting you. She would also refuse to help treat your bound and deliver items to them, which makes your life so much harder.

Part 2: i made a romance chart because I was inspired by another submission and I think Jucika has so much love in her heart to give

the flower that i feel like symbolizes her the most is White Chrysanthemums; they symbolize loyalty, devoted love, and are sometimes used as a funeral flower. Her Vibe is unknowable but if you're special you'll probably figure her out in your own special way. Or, she'll annoy you so much that you can't help but fall for her. She's strangely endearing that way.

Thanks for providing the romance sheet!

[softsky-daily]

1/24/2024

Who is she.... peeking out through the clouds.... a mystery....

Positive thing: My roommate friends made a good dinner like always, and I got through practicum.

Ugh. What a shitshow that was. At the last minute the clinic coordinator decided to make us include a student for co-therapy, so that meant having two counselors and one client. I can go over so many reasons why we all hated this idea but mostly it threw us off completely, and our clients were confused, and there were way too many people crowding the office, and it was completely unfair and not normal for everyone involved. I hate feeling like someone's guinea pig. Plus afterwards they had the gall to scold us for not being enthusiastic about it. They said "sound more confident with your clients and don't make it sound like it was last minute" but like, it was!! You didn't give us a heads-up and I thought our job was to be honest with our clients. Whatever. This program is a circus and I guess we're just monkeys to them. Also people kept walking into my sessions and I had to shoo them away so that was annoying.

The whole attitude of the higher-ups in the clinic feel so detached from what is actually helpful. I don't see how in any universe it'd be fine to be like "hey now you have someone else coming with you to your session, just deal with it okay :)". I will accept stress from my clients because that's who my focus is on. I will not tolerate stress from people who don't get that their actions just make our jobs harder for no reason.

Anyways. I hope they don't make us do it again next week or I'm pretty sure my whole group and I are gonna start a strike or something.

I was thinking about some childhood memories I had and I didn't realize how formative they were but I guess they stuck with me for a reason. One time my friend's dad was talking about when he was in medical school, and how everyone was extremely cutthroat and would betray other people for better opportunities and accolades and stuff all the time. He said he could understand why, but that he never agreed with that sort of mindset. He would help people, even if in the end many of them wouldn't do the same, and he said something like "I figured we were all going to make it through one way or another anyway. And medical school is already so difficult for so many reasons. I didn't see why we had to make it harder for each other." He attributed his success to the friend he made in medical school who stuck with him, and that was more important to him than trying to claw his way to the top. That always stuck out to me. To me he was a really cool and successful doctor, and I admired him a lot for his point of view too.

Another time with this same family I happened to go to the beach with them, and I was a pretty clumsy (or maybe reckless) kid so I accidentally knocked my head into the rear view mirror while getting out of the car. Honestly it didn't really hurt that much, I didn't cry or anything. But my friend's grandfather immediately got so worried and I remember him cradling me and patting my head and asking over and over if I was hurt. Both sets of my grandparents weren't that affectionate so I remember being really bewildered at the time. But afterwards I was caught up in this nice, fuzzy feeling that I still remember to this day. I learned later he was a Hiroshima survivor, and I don't think I had the full understanding of how big of a deal that was then. But looking back on it now I just feel a sort of profound gratitude that despite everything, he found his way through life to give a lonely little girl a hug that she'll always remember.

[colbertbebop-blog]

Daily Thoughts 12

(not my photo found on Pinterest)

Hey Everyone, I actually was going to talk about something else today, had a whole different picture picked out and everything. I have tried to watch how I say things, momma always said "no witnesses" that means not writing it down, not recording it, not telling anyone.

I have lived by this rule for a lot of my more questionable thoughts, even as I write this I debate the merits of speaking up. I realize though, that at some point, something is going to crack. Be that us as citizen's, other nations, or just fractures from the inside.

I feel like that will happen before anything that I say can be taken issue with. It's not that I am pompous or arrogant enough to think that what I say can cause for others to come down on me and mine. I just don't want to give them that opportunity. Motivational fears aside, spiritually over the last few weeks I have been pushed to watching and observing.

While the call to action hasn't been broadcasted as of yet, that doesn't mean that I don't have thoughts on what I have seen. More specifically the video on TikTok that I watched. A creator was talking about the trade war that our unfortunately established leader started with Columbia. I happen to like their coffee, they always roast it so good. That being said, his big thing was and I quote:

"It's going to be the world against the US."

I have serious problems with this, not the opinion he has, as some one who can see the patterns I too can see this out come. The first problem I have with this is, is that in reality it's not likely to happen. The reason being, the recorded back pedaling that we all know happens when 'he's' backed into a corner. The second is, as much as I don't have faith in them, those in position to make changes will care too much about their lives to allow for anyone to get close enough.

So this just reads as fear mongering and I get it, everyone is allowed to have their opinion. Everyone, for now, can express that opinion, even if we think certain ones should sit down and shut up. He can get on social media and speak his fear out there, and it's fine. Times like these though, you are just taking up time and space that I don't have.

For my own thoughts on it, should we get to this point where the other nations turn on us. I say 'good' if our own government wont step up. Won't step in and stop what is happening, then good, let them come. At this point our own country has spoke big and bad for so long and done whatever they wanted to others it's about time. Do I realize the damage, do I realize the changes, the bad that could come from this.

Yes.

That doesn't mean I don't pay attention. Everyone is so up in arms about how we used to be the best and they want to go back to that. We can't. To be the best, to continue to strive to be better than other nations, hell even equal at this point, we have to move forward. If the only way we can do that is to let that man burn everything to the ground I say, not my monkey.

It's still my circus, or at least I am apart of it but I think if we want to get back to being a leading nation, we need to look at what's working elsewhere and incorporate that into our system. We need to be working, not just with our allies but everyone to continuously stay on top of what's working and incorporating that. For so long we have been bullies, now is the time for the redemption arc. What is happening now is just the beginning and those of us that don't have a lesson to learn for how ever long we are stuck, all I can say is buckle up.

It's going to be one hell of a ride. -Kate January 28, 2025

[ppumeonae-bigvibe]

ateez x ship dynamics headcannons

find more content here: ateez masterlist  disclaimer: this is all a fig of my imagination, do not point fingers at me i will get scared ↬ word count: 717 words in total a/n: i absolutely had a brain-rot thinking about this in my short 15 minute bus ride home today so might as well ! 

tough guy x cinnabun ➯ hongjoong 

hongjoong as: tough guy

if anything, hongjoong’s got that look (the panty smoldering look-)

if you’re the sweet innocent type, hongjoong is bound to fall for you and swears on his life to protect you from anything 

also the brooding type, who would protectively stand behind you in anything 

he is bordering between that line of being obsessive - hands around your waist type beat 

clueless x blunt ➯ seonghwa

seonghwa as: blunt type

(do you not see the way he carries himself: like he KNOWS the power he has over us) 

unfortunately if you’re the clueless type (which is absolutely me), his actions would just fly past you and you’d probably think of him as a friend

boy is trying his best to make you see that he’s trying to woo you, but you brush it off 

do friends kiss- (because that was seonghwa’s last resort to make you SEE he adores you)

big x small ➯ yunho

yunho as: tall type

this obviously goes without saying because he is REALLY tall

but uhm, if you’re as tall as him then he’d try even harder to be taller than you (it will end up as a cute competition, i’d say) 

BUT if he is indeed taller than you, he will not hesitate to coddle you at any given opportunity: tucking you in his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head 

best part is when he spoons you? YEAH end of conversation i am sad and imagining this right now

emotionless x emotional ➯ yeosang

yeosang as: emotionless type

now now, this is definitely not true: yeosang is expressive

he’s slowly warming up to you, a person who expresses themselves freely 

he’s staring at you as you animatedly tell him about every and anything that happened to you and he’s going like, “damn this person is so full of life-”

and like i said, he’s slowly warming up to you and your expressions and he’d pick up your mannerisms along the way 

yeah now imagine you’re san in that gif ajsdhkasjdhaksdj

cat x dog ➯ san 

san as: dog type

playful energy all the time, ready to let loose and have a bit of fun

would 11/10 melt if you gave him attention (like any form of attention), asks you for head pats the most

he’s an absolute ball of unbridled excitement 

whereas you’d be the more chill one, just taking things in stride

san likes it when he’s up early in the morning and he’s just gazing lovingly at you 

dumbass x their dumbass ➯ mingi

mingi as: dumbass

getting himself into trouble seemed to be the norm and you’re there to get him out of it

or even if he didn’t get himself in trouble he’s a bit of the clumsy type, a (cute) bumbling fool who could get away with just about everything with that pretty smile of his 

that also meant everyone immediately associated you with mingi and vice versa because “he’s your monkey, he’s your circus

playful + popular x nerdy + serious ➯ wooyoung

wooyoung as: playful + popular 

in my mind wooyoung is that nice person, all-rounder just so swoon worthy in a school setting (mmm a bit like rivals to lovers but none of you are rivals)

you’d have fallen for him first but your crush being hidden under wraps because you’re that much of a wallflower

not until you caught his attention when he spilt milk on your shoes 

since then he has been teasing you, attempting to find you to bother you everyday

he finds himself so caught up by you he falls in love with you too awhh

chaotic on the outside x chaotic on the inside ➯ jongho

jongho as: chaotic on the inside

he doesn’t show his “goofy, quirky” side ever too often for he’s trying to go for that chic and friendly look 

but as soon as the opportunity lands right smack at his feet, he’d take it

in FACT, he’d grab YOU along and run with that chance, ready to pull a prank 

you two have a slightly mean streak of humour but what’s done is all in the name of friendship and are generally harmless

the bonus points if you two instigate something and manage to not get blamed for it 

[lit-works]

One Thing after another

The limo glides quietly towards 4 Freedoms Plaza, my home. Headquarters of the Fantastic Four.

Sure was nice of the mayor to drive us home tonight, since he had to go an' bore us all evenin' with his speeches about what great Joes we all are. It's the least he could do, though.

My reverie is interrupted by the voice of Johnny Storm, the Human Torch, a teammate and longtime friend: "hey, buddy, how about a game of pool and some beers in the rec room when we get home?"

"What's 'at, Torchy?"

"I asked how you feel about getting out of these monkey suits and playing a hot game of pool."

"Nah, count me out. I'm pooped. Savin' the world is one thing, but sittin' round in a tux listenin' to speeches for hours–thats too much! I'm goin' to bed."

"Can't say I blame you, Ben." Says Reed Richards, the leader of the Fantastic Four, and my oldest and best friend. "Unfortunately, the alarm system at 4 Freedoms Plaza is giving us trouble, and with the world astrophysics conference beginning tomorrow, I may not have another opportunity to work on it for weeks. Don't be surprised if your sleep is disturbed by my work–even I can't think of a way to test our auditory alarm system quietly."

"Terrific, Stretch." I say, shutting my eyes and trying to catch a nap while I can.

"Hey, sis," Johnny says, turning his older sister, Susan Storm-Richards, the invisible woman. "What say we shoot some nine-ball? Alicia's out of town for some big art show, and I could use a little excitement. Beating you at nine-ball could be just that–a little excitement."

"Johnny! You know good and well you could never beat me at nine-ball. Talk to me tomorrow and we'll see who's the real hustler in the family. Tonight, I'm going to check on Franklin and then follow Ben's lead. You'd do yourself some good to get some sleep as well."

"Aw, Gee, Ma…do I hafta?" Johnny whines, jokingly. "You both suck."

"Hey, Joker, mind puttin' a sock in it?" I say. "Can't ya see I'm tryin' to get my beauty sleep over here?"

Finally, the limo pulls up in front of 4 Freedoms Plaza. Johnny heads to the rec room alone. Sue goes to check on her and Reed's son, Franklin, as Reed sets off to check his alarm system. I go to my quarters and try to get some sleep.

I can't remember the last time I had a good night's sleep in my own bed. Sheesh, it's about time this cockamamy outfit got a break from savin' the world. Reed's a nutcase, he's still working. Me, I'm pooped.

I flop down on an oversized bed designed to support my 500+ pounds, drag a huge, rough hand across my face, and stare into a hand-mirror–the only mirror in my room. I'm not thrilled with what I see.

I am The Thing, one of Earth's mightiest defenders, a respected member of the Fantastic Four, but I am also one of Earth's most horrifying nightmares.

Maybe I oughta ditch the hero business and join a circus. Yeah, I could be a clown–wouldnt even have'ta wear any make-up. I wrinkle my rocky nose, curl my orange crust lips into the nearest thing to a smile I can muster, and stick my tongue out. The image in the mirror just looks worse.

Great, instead of just lookin' ugly, I look stupid, too. I shoulda stuck with wrestling. Most of the guys in that racket look worse than me. Some of the women, too.

Wallowin' in self pity, I reach under the bed and pull out a box, a box I keep hidden from my teammates, a box that contains one of the only things that can pull me out of a blues funk like the one I'm in now.

"Come to Papa!" I say aloud, even though there's nobody else in the quarters to hear.

Opening the box, I see a dozen cigars–fat, stinky, round, foot-long beauties. I take one as daintily as my ham-fists will allow, roll it between two fingers, run it under my nose and breathe deeply. Ah, genuine Havanas. Mother's milk! I been saving them fer just the right time, and this looks like it–my first rest in I-don't-know-how-many-years o' world savin'.

This reverie is cut short by a sudden, searing heat as a gout of flame passes just inches from my face. I'm unharmed, but the stogie in my mouth is incinerated.

"Dad-blasted, Torch!" I yell, "where are ya, ya flamed match-headed excuse for a Zippo! When I get my hands on you…"

Smoldering stogie still between my lips, I reach back over my head and plunge my steel-strong fingers through the reinforced concrete wall behind my bed. The torch flits inches above my prostrate figure.

"Hey, Ben," he says as he passes overhead, "Reed isn't gonna appreciate you punching holes in the wall."

"Worry about yourself, punk," I respond, as my fingers close around the water pipe in the wall. Ripping it in two, I bend the pipe out from the wall so the spray catches Torch full in the face. He crumbles to the ground in a soggy, flameless mass.

"What's the big idea, ya jerk? I was just having some fun. Trying to cheer you up."

"Well, quit tryin'! Maybe I don't wanna be cheered up. Maybe I hate fun! Maybe all I wanna do is relax and catch some shut-eye!"

Suddenly, me and my young teammate hear the unmistakable sound of an alarm from the roof of The Four Freedoms Plaza.

The alarm continues to blare, but I pay it no mind as I advance angrily on my fallen buddy. "Don't go thinkin' you're saved by the bell, 3-Stars. I know Reed's just testing' the systems."

"I don't know, Ben. I think I'll go see what's going on–i'll be back in a minute to finish our little tete-a-tete."

"Oh yeah, I can hardly wait. I miss you already."

I climb back into bed, cover my head with pillows, and Todd and turn for what feels like hours, but the alarm keeps blaring. So finally, I get up and try to figure out what's goin' on.

As the alarm continues to blare, I bound up the stairs to the roof and throw open the door. My eyes take a minute to adjust to the moonlight, but when I can see again, I see…nothing. Everything looks normal enough. The same is true when I check the hangar decks and upper-level storage areas.

Maybe Reed's tests weren't done with. Guess I better go see if the squirt found anything.

I make tracks back to where I last saw the Human Torch, and there, to my horror, I see Mr.Fantastic, his body stretched and distorted, on the ground. I also see the Invisible Woman, quite visible and equally unconscious. The Human Torch is beside her, out cold and still soggy from my dousing. And they are all in the clutches of our old foe, The Red Ghost.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Slipping Through My Fingers

Read here on AO3!

When it comes to his children, Bruce has very few regrets. He loves them completely, scars and all. He wouldn’t want to change a single part of them.

But he can’t lie and say that he doesn’t regret the timing with which each of these beautiful souls entered his life. Bruce has six children, but he’s never had a baby, and isn’t that wrong? Isn’t that a pity? He missed so much of their lives—so many milestones that every parent wants to remember forever but that he’s not even had glimpses of. He wasn’t there for the first steps or the lost teeth or learning how to ride a bike. He missed all of his children learning to talk, missed watching Sesame Street with them in the morning and making soapy mohawks in the bathtub. Bruce missed everything. He missed moments that he can’t get back, no matter how hard he yearns for a rewind. Take him back. Return to him the moments he lost without even knowing it until they’d already slipped through his fingers. Bruce has a few mementos to get him by, but they only grant him glimpses of the years he missed. Dick has a bin of old tapes from the Flying Graysons’ best performances that he likes to watch on bad days. Occasionally he’ll let Bruce watch with him. There’s something magical about watching the young boy in the tapes swing on the trapeze and pull gravity-defying moves, all the while knowing what a strong man that boy will one day become. Jason came to the manor with very little, having to travel light while on the streets. There’s a shoebox under the bed in his old room salvaged from his mother’s things, containing a handful of photos from Jason’s toddler years, a stuffed animal or two, some loose possessions. Bruce used to go through them after Jason’s death, just to give himself something to hold on to. Tim had more than Dick and Jason combined: plenty of photos, report cards, baby teeth, and coloring books all saved in storage. But as much as there was, Bruce still only had glimpses of the real Tim. Every family photo was stiff, like an assortment of plastic dolls. The papers and drawings that have been collected are too crisp, like they were shoved into a childhood folder and forgotten about without a second glance, not even making it to the refrigerator. All Bruce has of Cass’ childhood are videotapes of training sessions. He refuses to watch them, for both her sake and his own. Duke has a photo album he keeps in his bedroom, compiling plenty of baby pictures and family vacations. He’s only shown it to Bruce once. Otherwise, he keeps it in his bookshelf, untouched but for the handful of times he’s visited his parents, showing them old memories in case it will miraculously jog something and put the shards of them back together. The longer it doesn’t work, the less he’s willing to tell. The League of Assassins has an entire storage room of files on Damian’s development. Bruce has seen it. It’s like every move the boy made was monitored and catalogued, detailed without so much as a lick of emotion to remind anyone that this was a child being discussed. There were no shiny milestones to celebrate, only completed stages. No one commemorated his first word or first time seeing a butterfly, but his first time using a wakizashi sword earned five entire pages. If Bruce could go back in time, he would snatch up every one of his children and give them the lives they deserve, right from the start. No pain. No dead parents. No neglect, no heartache, no scavenging on the streets just to survive the night. He would wipe their slates clean if it meant he could stave off their suffering, just for a little while longer. He would do anything to go back.

Back when Bruce was a child and tragedy hadn’t yet torn his family to bloody shreds, there was one Fourth of July on which his parents took him to the circus. Alfred had an open invitation to accompany them, but, being a Brit, he politely declined from the day’s festivities. “I’ll have you know, young sir, that I served as a spy for the British forces and mentored Alexander Hamilton during his teenage years.” Bruce was ninety-nine percent sure that Alfred wasn’t alive during the American Revolution. That day was the first time Bruce had been to the circus. It was a local one, small with very few extravagant spectacles, but his father bought him peanuts and afterward the three of them watched the fireworks in Gotham Park. It was a day that imprinted itself on Bruce’s memory, sticking with him long after they were gone. So when he sees a flyer announcing that Haly’s International Traveling Circus is visiting Metropolis on the same day Bruce has an interview with Lois Lane for some column on America’s wealthiest men, how can he turn the opportunity down? The air is warmed by summer rays, the entire field radiating Metropolis’ natural brightness. The scent of peanuts and popcorn wafts from all sides and the classic tinkling circus music fills his ears. The show doesn’t start for another half hour, so Bruce settles on walking around, unsure of what to do with himself. He should get some photos to bring home for Alfred. He’s always had a fascination with jugglers. After some perusing, Bruce pulls up under a tree, shaded against the thick trunk. He’s just pressed send on the pictures to Alfred when he hears a voice from above. “Hey, mister.” Bruce looks up to discover a boy perched on a tree branch two feet above his head. The kid looks around six years old with black hair that curls around his ears. He’s wearing a bright red and green costume—obviously one of the performers. How a child his age came to be part of the circus, Bruce can’t begin to guess. He’s missing his front teeth and his skin, tan with a honey glow, makes his nationality hard to place. Bruce blinks up at the boy. “Hello.” The kid drops down and catches on the branch with his hands, dangling with his bare feet kicking in the air. “Whatcha doing here?” Now that he’s paying attention, Bruce can detect the slightest accent. Romani, perhaps? “Why does anyone come to the circus?” The boy laughs. “You don’t look like the kind of person who goes to the circus.” “Then what kind of person do I look like?” The boy thinks, swinging back and forth like a cartoon monkey. How his hands aren’t scraped raw from gripping the rough bark, Bruce doesn’t know. “A lawyer, maybe. Or a president.” The corner of Bruce’s mouth lifts. “I’m neither of those things, unfortunately.” “Well, I’m an acrobat.” “I can see that.” “But I do other stuff too,” the kid tells him, “like I know how to juggle and how to walk on stilts and how to throw knives at targets. I’m getting real good at that.” “Are you sure a kid your age should be playing with knives?” The boy laughs. “You think knives are scary? You should see it when they let me play with the tigers.” Bruce arches an eyebrow. “You play with tigers?” That can’t be safe. Maybe he should have a talk with the ringmaster and make sure someone is ensuring that no little boy heads are getting bitten off by mighty jaws. “Oh yeah, the tigers are the best.” The kid swings his body upward, letting go of the branch and pulling a heart-stopping somersault midair as he falls. He lands on his feet without a wobble. “I know all of their names and they’re huge, like they’re this big”—he stretches out his arms as far as they will go, which makes the tigers a whopping two and a half feet tall—”and sometimes I’m even allowed to ride them!” Bruce leans back against the tree trunk, crossing his arms with a smile. “Is that right?” “Yeah!” The kid then launches into a string of chatter, so fast that it takes all of Bruce’s focus to keep up. He tells Bruce all about the circus’ tigers: what breed they are, how many they have, what they eat, what their names are (their actual names and the names the kid gave them; Marshmallow is his favorite), and how his dad once gave him permission to hold a hoop while a tiger leapt through it. The entire time, Bruce can’t help but wonder, is this what childhood is supposed to be like? Swinging on tree branches and giving oral reports about your favorite animals to complete strangers? Is this what growing up is like for normal children? Bruce doesn’t know whether to be envious of this little boy or concerned. He’s so innocent; it bleeds from every grin. There’s nothing weighing this kid down—literally and figuratively—and Bruce finds himself silently praying to a being he doesn’t believe in that it never changes. Let this kid stay pure, untouched by the evils of the world. Let him go his whole life swinging on branches and talking about tigers without a single setback. After a good ten minutes when the boy’s tumbled into a handstand and has moved on to tell Bruce about his favorite elephant Zitka, a feminine voice rings, “There you are, Dick. I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” A beautiful woman approaches the pair, wearing an identical red and green leotard. She’s got matching black hair and blue eyes—too spitting of an image to be anyone but his mother. “Come on, sweetheart, we’re supposed to be backstage.” “Sorry, Mom,” Dick says, turning right-side up, but he hasn’t lost his grin. Now that he thinks of it, Bruce doesn’t recall it waning once in the entire time they’ve been talking. She takes in Bruce, suit and all, and plasters on a stage smile, sticking out her hand. “Mary Grayson. You’ll have to forgive my son, he gets excited easily. He’ll talk your ear off for hours if you let him.” But the glimmer in her eye gives Bruce an inclination that she has no problem being an audience for her son’s happy rants. Bruce shakes her hand. “Bruce. I take it you’re the Flying Graysons I’ve been hearing so much about?” “The very same. I hope you’ll be seeing our show tonight.” “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He winks at the littlest Grayson, who beams. Mary ruffles Dick’s hair. “Well, this little robin and I should be getting ready now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Bruce.” “Likewise.” He leans down and shakes Dick’s small hand. “And if you ever come to Gotham, maybe you can tell me more about those tigers, eh?” Dick looks like he contains the sun itself. He’s sunshine incarnate. “Definitely!” He drags his feet when his mom starts leading him away, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Bye, Mr. Bruce!” He waves his hand like a windmill of its hinges, and Bruce can’t help but return it. Bruce hasn’t felt this content in a long time to the point where he has to stop in wonderment of it. It’s unlikely that Haly’s will end up coming to a place like Gotham anytime soon, but Bruce hopes for it anyway. After all, Gotham could use some sunshine.

Here’s the rest of it on AO3 because I don’t feel like formatting all 7,000 words on here lmao.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Tension

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 2,658

Summary: It seems that as the world turned against their beloved Captain America, Steve would turn against you. 

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions of physical abuse, short time jump. 

A/N: this came out of nowhere that NO ONE asked for, but APPARENTLY I now have a thing for Steve, wow... Specifically Nomad!Steve if you couldn’t tell :o Hope ya’ll enjoy x (PLEASE DROP SOME FEEDBACK, would be much appreciated!!!) Don’t mind the shit writing! 

In the eyes of the public, Steve Rogers was a national treasure, a hero, and above all, righteous. Many refused to believe he was even capable of any wrong doing. “He’s Captain America, for god’s sake!” many would reason with. 

You’d met Steve during your time working for S.H.I.E.L.D as one of the leading Doctors working alongside Bruce Banner. Eventually, you’d befriended one another, only to fall for each other. There was something about him, that just lured you to him. Perhaps his subtle charisma or charm, was what probably made everyone admire Steve. 

And just like the public, you held the belief that he was incapable of evil... That was until he fell out of touch with the Avengers, from the whole ordeal of the Accords, for Bucky, Zemo and so forth. That whole saga had triggered something in his persona that slowly began to change day by day, as he plunged deeper and deeper into this rabbit hole he’d dug up for himself. His priorities, emotions and most importantly his beliefs shifted from what you’d felt used to. It was definitely clear to see that the man you'd once grown to know had become buried behind this somewhat of a stranger. Of course, there were times you alone, would have seen another side of Steve come about. Hints of jealousy, rage and even fear. 

Nonetheless, it made you think, if this sudden shift was just the final opportunity Steve grasped to embrace himself as he truly was. No longer upholding the facade that the public, the army or that S.H.I.E.L.D had created in the first place, that he for countless of years would compare himself to some sort of a circus monkey. Yet, despite the indifferences Steve was facing, he still chose to be with you.

One by one, he’d begun singling out the Avengers, with the exception of the small few who firmly decided to fight by his side from time to time when necessary or called upon. It seemed he’d begun to suppress the entire philosophy of the Avengers: the belief that they were indeed Earth’s mightiest heroes... 

He started to deepen his focus on taking up more missions, including some that the government had tried to neglect, mostly missions important to him. Succinctly, this meant less and lesser time spent with you, and vice versa, lesser time with Steve. You’re overthinking had caused you to feel as though it was his way of distancing himself.

He became unkempt, untidy: as though he no longer felt the need to care for himself. His hair grew out into some sort of a mane, his beard had fully grown, and from all the missions he was completing, the non-stop training, action and movement, he became somewhat bulkier. As his life intensified, it seemed his body grew to adapt to his: looking sturdier, stronger, as if mirroring his level of resilience. However, it also seemed that his new look made him seem less approachable, as from comments of the public regarding their affection towards their their beloved Captain America, had also began to deter. However that was untrue on your half. You loved Steve no matter the odds faced, and the undeniable fact that the both of you encountered yet pushed through so much adversity, his looks were certainly the least of your problems. 

Thus, he knew you well from the start, like a book he’d read multiple times. Much like himself, he knew you were not one to shy away from confrontation. Steve knew you’d want to confront him about his unusual behaviour as soon as he'd step through the door, and to be frank it seemed he didn’t care what you had to say. Most nights he'd either arrive late enough for you failing to stay awake, already fast asleep, or other nights, you’d wake up without him laying beside you. For the days that you’d managed to keep awake long enough to hear him hustling through the door, just in time to have the showdown with him, he’d brush you off. Most of the time he’d only spare a second to just look at you, too busy raiding the fridge for some food, or excusing himself to take a shower. It felt that he was on repeat, in an attempt to excuse himself, the words “I’m tired Y/N-”, “Not tonight Y/N-” would be enough for him to then just to slump his body right onto the bed without another word, often his back turned towards you, his face turned away from yours. 

And it was because of this, and as your attempt of teaching Capt a “lesson”, you’d sleep on the couch, away from him. Trying to make him guilty, as selfish as it may be... As these slow weeks went by, your agitation grew by the minute. The tension was brewing and you knew you’d erupt soon, whether Steve listened or not... He was going to get a mouthful.

That was until Natasha showed upto your rundown, shared apartment. Now that you guys were constantly on the move, there was no point in locating a permanent residence. Whatever space could provide sufficient shelter that was enough for Steve, then it was enough for you, no questions asked.

However, it was unusual to have guests, that including which ever remaining Avengers Steve continued to work with to show up, especially unannounced. It would mean something serious, however whether it concerned Steve or not was to be determined.

“Nat what’s up? Is Steve okay?”

“H-He’s fine Y/N. It’s just-”

She stopped midway, and couldn't help though longingly stare at you. To be frank, deep down it felt like a goodbye look you'd give to someone you know you won’t be seeing in a while. Trying to take in every final detail of that person. She seemed so anxious, which considering it now, was very unusual for Natasha. It was rare for someone or something to rattle the Black Widow herself.

“God, come in Nat-” Hastily you moved aside for her to freely walk through. She’d taken one last worried glance over her shoulder, as if concerned that she’d been caught or even followed, before you’d shut the dark wooden door closed completely.

“Nat this really isn’t like you, and you’re starting to worry me. Sit down, please. Is there anything I can get for you? Some tea, coffee-”

“Steve’s cheating on you!” 

The words immediately escaped her mouth, and she couldn't tear her gaze away from you. She felt the need to comfort you, although it seemed she didn't know how and for that remained in her seat. 

As for you, you could feel the sudden, sunken drop of your heart. Undoubtedly, you disagreed, gently shaking your head against her claims, trying to think logically, you felt this couldn't be true at all.

“But Steve’s always so busy on missions and-”

“Y/N please... You’re smart enough to know-”

“Know what Natasha? That Steve, the guy I’ve known for all these years, for all the shit that WE faced, would leave me for who?” 

And immediately from her pocket in her jacket, she threw down what seemed to be a photograph right onto the coffee table. You felt your body freeze, not wanting to reach and decipher the image yourself. You kept your focus on Nat, as she slowly rose from the worn-down couch.

“I tried to convince him, tried to persuade him that he should be the one to break it to you first. He wouldn’t listen Y/N... And as your friend-” 

Taking her quick steps towards you, raising her hands up firmly to hold you as she began to rub against the sides of your arms. It was the closest to support that she would show. 

“I couldn't let you be kept in the dark.”

***

That evening felt forever long: as the minutes and hours went by of you bitterly awaiting for Steve... Not even certain if it was one of those nights that he’d show up or not. 

You sat huddled up tightly to yourself on the couch, the image held in your hands as you’d examined it over and over again, thoroughly scanning over the faces. Seemed he found some time for a bar, probably out of town, sitting in the distance at the back away from the crowd, the table full of empty bottles of alcohol, along with some brunette making herself comfortable on his lap. You’d never felt so repulsed in your life, just the sheer thought of Steve seeking out an affair physically made you nauseous. Whatever happened to that righteous man you’d loved, was sadly now long gone. 

What made you most upset was that smile... As clear as day, Steve had a smile struck upon his face, his hands lingering all over her body. It was that sort of affection and attention you’d been craving for so long, and yet some stranger had beaten you to it... You felt gutted, absolutely humiliated to have been so blind to Steve’s intentions. You’d trusted him that deeply, enough for him to have taken it for advantage.

The sudden rattling of the keys unlocking the door, had snapped for your attention, shifting your focus on the hallway, waiting for Steve to show. 

“Up again I see. Y/N I’m really not in the mood for-”

“You cheated on me-” 

Now that caught his immediate attention, and rather than dragging his focus away from you, those icy blue eyes were all over you.

“What did you say?”

“You cheated on me... You cheated on me with some other random fucking girl. And you didn't even have the decency to come clean!” Voice raised high enough for the tenants on the other side of the wall to hear, you rose from your seat, threw the image down without breaking your focus on him. 

Looking down at the photograph, he knew exactly who the source was, and didn't question it. He remained as quiet as ever, burning the image into his memory, reliving that exact moment before he’d looked back unto you. 

“How long? Is she the only one you’ve been seeing or have you made this a habit?” 

“C’mon Y/N...” 

“How long Steve?” 

Uneasily he sighed, uncertain to answer although he felt now that you knew, there was no point in denying the truth to it. 

“5 months-” 

Taken aback, the hot streams of tears began to fall not out of sheer sadness nor the fact that your time with Steve, you knew had come to an unfortunate end, however you were somewhat relieved. This burden, this constant neglect was finally no longer something tomorrow would bring. 

“That was all I needed to know...” Not wanting to share another second in his presence, you turned bounding towards your room, desperate to just pack enough of your essentials to leave without any arguing. You had nothing more to say, nothing more to do except leave. 

“Y/N come on! Will you just let me explain-” 

Mimicking you, Steve followed you into the room, in an attempt to snatch your focus, whatever you’d shoved into your bag he took out, buying him some time to talk. 

“Explain what Steve?! That you’ve been lying every fucking day about where you’ve been, what you've been doing or more like who you’ve been doing? You kept me stuck in here, all alone, leading me on this entire fucking time, for 5 fucking months Steve? And for what?!”

With whatever mundane strength you had against the super-human, you tried to shove Steve away from you. Although little was achieved of that. Purely out of anger, you just felt your words did not amount enough to the anger coursing through your veins. 

“Y/N it’s been months since you’ve done anything to reach out to me, what was I suppose to do? Everyone kept expecting so much of me, so much good. Even if I screwed up just this one time, it’s the end of the fucking world. And where were you? I lost you when I lost everyone else. All it’s been is just you following me around, acting like nothing’s changed but it has and you can’t keep denying it Y/N!” 

His broad stature towered over you, a part of you intimidated that he’d lose himself to his volatile emotions, just as he did these past months. You felt you could no longer predict Steve, and that frightened you greatly. 

“Listen to yourself Steve! You’re blaming me for not caring when I’m the one staying up all day and night, waiting for you. And when I do try to make conversation all I'm met with are your pathetic fucking excuses... No actually your fucking lies, Steve!” 

And that was it, whatever you had left remaining in your bags that Steve hadn’t managed to throw out, you snatched and manoeuvred yourself around him heading for the door. The fierce grip on your forearm however wouldn't allow you to take another step. Rapidly turning to face him, as you tried shrugging him off, shaking your arm held tightly, you’d feel yourself bruising underneath his grip. His strength overpowered you, even if he simply held you with his one hand, however that didn't stop you.

“Steve just let me fucking go! You’ve-”

“Enough!” 

And strike! The sudden backhanded slap, forced you out of his grip, as your body collapsed to the floor. Your cheek began to burn, you could sense the dense palpation and heat of the strike brewing beneath your palm as you tried to conceal your face from anything else you feared might come from Steve. Although in the seconds after, nothing more. Peering through your fingers, despite the tears swelling in your eyes from the sudden pain, you could make out Steve standing where he stood, just staring down at you, his breathing heavy. 

“Y/N- B-Baby, please-”

Hastily kneeling down beside you, his hands reach towards your body wanting to help you, to cradle you, he knew that wasn't the best option. He did something terrible and it only took him a split second to know that. He had to approach you carefully, not wanting to frighten you any more in any possible way. 

“Y/N, baby, I’m s-so sorry-” 

His voice now tender, yearning for your forgiveness yet sounding broken. You felt frozen in your tracks, trying to support your half lying body, your palms leaning against the floor as you intently gazed towards Steve. No emotion was struck on your face, although with Steve... His concerned eyes now looked familiar more than ever before, like how they used to look at you whenever you’d enter the room. He’d noticed the injury to your cheek, and was able to figure the amount of brutal force he'd just unleashed unto you. 

“Y/N, b-baby please! I-I could never forgive myself, I could never-” 

“S-Steve I have to go...” 

In turn, now his eyes had swelled with tears. You rose immediately from where you fell, and reached for your bag off the grown, pacing straight for the door. 

You didn't dare to look back, not even feeling the temptation of wanting to. All you could hear was the broken, muffled cries of Steve, as he buried his face in his strong arms, rocking himself unable to stand his ground. 

He could nor would he ever forgive himself. From the start he vouched that hurting you, losing you, not protecting you would be his greatest downfall. And this day he’s actions had spoken for just that... 

Walking out of the building, stopping yourself by the door, you had no clue what step was next. Whether you’d ever see Steve face to face again would be a mystery. However it seemed that the tension of the world had just melted away for now. 

[minnesota-fats]

Do you have any more information or more characters about your miraculous ladybug circus Au

Yes I do!

Part 1, 2, (3)

I haven’t really been updating it but I had a few ideas.

Ivan Bruel

Strong man (in training)

Because of his big physique he is seen as strong

Like Gorilla he helps with the heavy lifting but not as much

Joined the circus because his family kicked him out

Loves Malène with all his heart but too shy to say anything

Gave Malène a flower he picked when he first arrived

Malène Haprèle

Her father is a mime in the circus

She helps with make up as lighting

Afraid of crowds

Usually stays up in the rafters or back stage

Got Marinette to cover for her once to help Adrien with his makeup

Has stage fright!

Thinks Ivan is sweet

Lê Chiên Kim

Is a trapezist

Actually monkey man™

Does an act with monkeys

Not the sharpest tool in the shed

In between shows try’s to make everything a competition

Usually sticks around Alix and Max because if left by himself he will cause chaos

Knew Marinette before circus but when his dad passed away he decided to earn money in the most fun way possible

Kim still thinks he can out run the panther

Alix Kubdel (stage name Bunnix)

Ran away from home because she was expected to just sit still and look pretty for her family

She noted the heck out of there

She loved her family she just wanted to be free

Daredevil

Need for speed

Keeps Kim and Max out of trouble most of the time

Tied Kim to a pole so he couldn’t try and free the monkeys once

Keeps Max from spewing information and techno talk to everyone so he wont get hit by the more grizzly of the crew (no one we know)

Max Kanté

Assistant technician

His mother works on trains and he picked up a thing or two from her

Mom said it was my turn to use the brain cell!

He is the smart one in the trio obviously

But cant read social ques

Man of science

Points out every illusion if given the opportunity

Nathanaël Kurtzberg

Resident Artist

Helps with makeup

Draws posters for the shows

Draws caricatures before shows and after for extra cash

“NO ONE KNOWS IM BI” energy

Crushes hard on Marinette for the first few months before he realized she wasnt into him

Story wise I’m unsure, i was kinda thinking it more to be a no magic au more than anything else but if people want to use this a a prompt they can and make it magical if they want.

I just wanted a found family story that has character growth for Gabriel to be a better dad to his son but after watching the more recent episodes I kinda lost hope for Gabriel…

That’s all i really got for now but if people really do like this au I will keep going!

[bekahdoesnerdshit]

ask Two for the angst ones this time: 13 for raini, 5 (possibly will be pertinent come the end of this minicampaign) & 29 (she literally has Any Weapon w/ her pact so it's fititng) for ayen, 7 & 10 (hehe I know there's trauma in this one) for cog, and then mix and match 4, 17, 18 between Caspian, Ryker, and Brilliance bc I don't know them as well and I would Like To

My life is just below readmores now, I guess. Will I ever learn to shut the fuck up? No! And that is a promise 

Raini

13. What does it take to make your character cry? Oh boy. Raini definitely isn’t a big crier, because she a) doesn’t really let herself get to that point and b) hard pivots into “angry” over “upset” and she isn’t an angry crier. She’s cried twice in game so far, and probably not many times before that. In both in game cases -and likely the always alluded to but never seen “before times”- the catalyst for her crying was being overwhelmed. In a good way, bad way, whatever, but that’s the trigger. Just- Looking at something, not knowing what else to do but let yourself cry about it, and not seeing any reason to stop yourself.  (shfjsdjkfh the funny answer is: during sex. But can you IMAGINE jskdfskjdf)

Ayen

5. Would they ever turn on someone they just met in order to save themselves? Oh for sure. Without question. Not without guilt, in fairness, but without question. She’s pretty well adjusted, pretty “go with the flow”, but she did grow up in a pretty cutthroat world. She was spared from having to make those kinds of brutal decisions from a super young age by Shadow Mom, but she definitely saw the fallout of those choices and learned that, while it’s all well and good to do the “right” thing, it’s much more important to do the right thing for you. If that means condemning some stranger to die so you and yours don’t have to? So be it. Better people have done worse, because that’s sometimes just how things go.  I’ll be honest! This character decision was a completely on the fly one when we were having that debate in the library about what we should do with the information we learned in the library. But I stand by it. In character, Ayen 1000% sees whatever’s going on as Not Her Business. It’s fucked up, sure! But, you know. Not her monkeys, not her circus.  29. What is their weapon of choice, and what weapon do they dislike using the most? Bro I love that Ayen doesn’t have A Specific Weapon SO much. Especially because Pact of the Blade specifically makes it so that, whatever weapon she summons, she’s proficient in while wielding it. So she sees somebody using a weapon, goes “oh! cool!” and summons it herself, and then just. Intuitively knows how to use is. How fucking funny is that conceptually??  Her go to if things are serious or she doesn’t have time to pick something obscure is a longsword. Dad uses a greatsword, and a longsword is pretty close to that! Image how cool they looked fighting off assholes, back to back, with two bigass swords? Is that the only reason it’s her favorite? No of course not!!!! That would- that would be silly. And childish. Swords are just cool is all.  She hasn’t used any in game, but I think she honestly just doesn’t like any kind of polearm. It’s like, is it technically safer to be a little further from your enemy? Sure. Does it give you a small tactical advantage? Maybe so. But they’re so uglyyyy and they look weird and you have to use both hands and the balance is weird and >:( Spears can stay because you can throw them but you’re on thin fucking ice.

Cog

7. If your character was allowed to murder one person without any consequences, who would it be and why? Thank GOD Alex I wanted this one for Cog SO bad!!! Valentine WastelandGame! If you can read this! You’re a dead motherfucker!! This is for a variety of reasons including but not limited to: - Is responsible for the deaths of at least 3 separate world leaders! Uh oh!  - Asked for my blood one time! To do Science on! Not cool! - Ace doesn’t like him. Enough said.  - Called Ace “hotheaded” and “brutish” keep his NAME out of your MOUTH - Is fucking Maelo’s ex I think? Honestly I lost that plot on that one a little bit - Keeps taking Sunny on dates! We’re protective and Jealous?? Hard to say! We don’t have time to unpack this one let’s keep moving - Is convinced aliens exist? And are coming to attack the world? OKAY  - Talks in fucking circles about philosophy and the greater meaning of “good” and “evil” in the context of the world. Like, no sir! Good is when you help people and evil is when you kill them! Except unless it’s me killing you which is going to happen because I can cast Finger of Death now and you better believe that spell has your fucking name on it. Freak boy. - Just like. Eats straight raw steak. Not Evil but really weird and probably not great for you? - Overall just a very bad slimy manipulative and stinky dude. 0/10 I’m gonna put an arcane bullet in his skull. Like. Everything Valentine does, everything she learns about him, convinces Cog more and more that the world would be a better, safer place if he wasn’t allowed to exist in it anymore. She was kinda neutral on the guy until he gave his grand speech in Cormir about how the only way to save the world is to ‘conquer and subdue it’ and tried to talk her in circles enough that she had to agree with him or seem like a hypocrite. Since then, it’s been a slow creep from “I don’t trust this man and don’t want to work with him again, even if it makes our lives harder” to “he’s dangerous and needs to be stopped” to “...if given the opportunity, I would kill him myself”. And now that she has our new friend the Shadow Demon whispering in her ear, telling her that “the world will tremble and change before her” and that she should “stride boldly, and fear not the consequences that may follow” honestly? The next time we see Valentine, he might be in trouble!  10. What were the character’s parents like? What was the affect the parents had on the character? Oh, is there trauma in this one? Is there? Alex? Is there? Maybe so!! We’re gonna talk about Cog’s dad first, because he’s a) still alive and b) I KNOW you’re fishing for more mom angst. Cog’s dad name is Conrad Grace! He’s the head of Lafaroh’s town guard, whatever that means for a town of maybe a hundred people. I feel like his day to day really consists more of making rounds to check on people than dealing with criminals, although he likely has to break up the occasional disagreement or toss somebody in the drunk tank for the night. He’s also in charge of making sure the Guardians -the gods that live deep in the swamp outside Lafaroh and protect the town in exchange for food, building supplies, the occasional corpse, and other resources- get their offerings (This is Important, because he does Stop doing that soon). He married into he Grace family (that’s RIGHT he took his wife’s last name because it’s 2021 and he’s Woke not because her family like runs the town okay moving on), initially because I genuinely believe he fell in love! They were probably pretty young, because Lafaroh is very much a Deep South Swamp Town Analogue, but I don’t think it was just a social power move. The most important Conrad fact? He told Cog that he became disillusioned with the Church when she left home, because he couldn’t imagine continuing to support something he could now see had so clearly been hurting her. And I, Rebekah, a homosexual who has had Words with my Christian parents about the way their religion has hurt me? OH buddy we were a little bit of a mess about it. DM Ryan! Don’t you know I’m projecting!! Please be more careful! (Editor’s Note: This is the moment that made me realize I was projecting. Whoopso!!) Cog’s mom name is Charlotte Grace Sr. because, I guess, we’re freaks. I hate that this makes Cog technically a junior because the thought of anyone calling her Charlotte Jr. makes me break out in hives, but it is, technically, correct. The distinction while Cog was growing up was, instead, “Charlotte” and “Charlotte Olivia” because, again, we’re southern as hell. Charlotte Sr. is, unsurprisingly, the head of Lafaroh’s church, which means she very much has more actual power than her husband does. She did love Cog, I think, but in a way that very much more felt like someone guarding an investment than raising a child, especially when Cog became a teenager. She had high, exacting expectations, and grew more distant from Cog the older she got. Whether this was an unintentional side-effect of Charlotte Sr. becoming more engrossed in the preparations necessary to allow Cog to become the “Conduit”, or whether it was a purposeful decision because she knew she would lose her daughter and wanted the sacrifice to hurt less is unclear. Cog’s dad is kinda just a dude, but we KNOW this bitch has mommy issues. I also think an important distinction to draw between the two is that while I’m willing to give Conrad the benefit of the doubt and say that he may have just wanted Cog to stay in Lafaroh when they party returned because he was worried about his daughter and wanted her home, Charlotte Sr. wanted Cog there because it was Where She Was Supposed To Be, because she had a destiny to fulfill. More than that, when Charlotte Sr. found out that Conrad had stopped sending supplies to the Guardians when Cog left and had instead been selling them to Bandits to get money to rebuild the town, she was not nearly so understanding. She accused him of heresy, and ordered for him to be, uh. Flayed alive. Which wasn’t great. It’s what got her killed ultimately; Cog had to choose between her parents, and after watching her Mama summon a shadow demon that very nearly choked the life out of Sunny? It was a choice with only one possible outcome. 

Caspian

18. Would society call your character a good guy or a bad guy? What would they say they are? Caspian is. Caspian is Just a person. Like she is just out here doing her best, trying not to get killed by, idk. Pirates or ghosts or w/e. This is an endeavor that, statistically, could be going a lot better.  I think the more interesting angle to look at this question from is the fact that she’s a monk from a well known monastery, and that there’s Expectations on how she conducts herself in the world as a result of that. She is Just A Person, but that’s not good enough. Not when she’s running around wearing Pelor’s holy symbol, representing his monastery, reflecting on him. For a long time, I think Caspian resented the expectation that put on her! Why can’t she just be a kid? Just a person? She didn’t ask to be raised by these monks in this kind of life. But when she left home and realized how suddenly lonely she was, there were quiet, sad moments it was easy to soften with prayer. Rekindling her relationship with her god was her way of staying connected to home, and I think it also made her want to go from being Just a Person to actually wanting to take pride in being a Good Person.  And then her campaign lasted for two fucking seconds lmao so it didn’t even matter hahah! :)

Ryker

4. Has your character ever been hurt or betrayed by someone they thought they could depend on? What happened? YEAH BOY rye-bread got his SHIT handed to him lmaoooo His whole “why are you adventuring?” deal is that he fell in love with the noblewoman he was hired to escort across the country to her betrothed’s estate, and she played him like a fucking fiddle and convinced him -after her wedding, after she was pregnant with her husband’s first child and therefore heir- that she was in love with him too. But of course, because she was married, her husband would never let them be happy together. She talked Ryker into killing her husband, and promised to meet him the night he did it with horses and supplies for both of them. Anyone reading along at home with even a shred of common sense probably just said, “uh oh!” And uh oh indeed; she fully sold his ass out. There’s something emotionally devastating about slipping out of the bedroom of the man you just killed, his blood still on your hands, to find the woman you love standing between two enormous guards, but I can’t quite put my finger on what.  Ryker figured out her plan in the following days he spent in a cell, awaiting execution. She didn’t love her husband, but by playing the role of grieving widow and anxious mother-to-be she could ingratiate herself with his family enough to be allowed to take control of the estate while her son, the true heir, grew up to run it. It was cruel, and clean, and if Ryker hadn’t managed to escape it would have gone off without a hitch.

Brilliance 

17. Is your character afraid of death? Why/why not? Brilliance isn’t afraid of death, she’s afraid for what she’d leave behind. One of the songs on her playlist really leans into this (and I’m very excited to be posting her playlist soon! Stay tuned!), because she is terrified of what her death might do to Sienna. She never planned to become an adventurer, much less travel to the Hells to try and save an entire city. She was content, more than content, to guard Sune’s church, to help the people that came seeking her goddess’ blessing and guidance. When her city faced a sudden influx of refugees from Elturel after its destruction, she was even happy to volunteer to help the Flaming Fist keep order and root out would-be troublemakers. She never meant to get caught up in a job that would take her out of her home city, much less out of her home plane entirely. Every fight she got into in Hell, every time it seemed like she may be staring down something that might kill her, Brilliance had to swallow down the overwhelming guilt of knowing that if she died here Sienna would never know what happened to her. The image of Sienna, worried and pacing, looking toward the door to their apartment every time there was so much as a whisper in the hallway, desperate for any sign that Brilliance had come home-- It wasn’t delusions of self-importance or self-preservation that had Brilliance taking Glasya’s deal to save her from the narzugon’s clutches; it was the image of Sienna collapsing onto their bed and sobbing because she finally admitted to herself that Brilliance was never coming home. Still. Sienna needs her, but her party needs her too. They’re counting on her to be there for them, to take the big hits that they can’t handle. First one in, last one out; she doesn’t leave until everyone else is safe. She wants to survive, she wants to go home and marry the woman she loves, but she couldn’t live with herself if she did it at the cost of the life of someone who was depending on her. Brilliance isn’t afraid of death; she would die for her party members, even the ones she doesn’t particularly like. She just knows exactly what the cost of her death would be. 

[graylinesspam]

The thing about higher brain function is that it often negates lower brain function.

Should any human being be able to ignore their own growling stomach for days on end? No. it's in our very nature to nurture ourselves. It's one of the first things they code into us. Eat/ sleep/ reproduce. That is the fundamentals of human process.

But supposed "geniuses" have this inhumane way of completely negating all other human needs in the pursuit of a fixation. The pursuit predator's short cut to higher brain function.

Some have deemed it a fascination. To watch someone in their fixation build, create, discover. To watch the most intelligent of us achieve.

That's what they say at least. Mark Virginia Potts down as unimpressed. In fact, watching the love of her life spill coffee down the side of his face because he forgot to turn away from the screen before sipping, makes her call total bullshit on that one. The fact that the coffee is also burnt and cold as ice, makes her roll her eyes.

Tony continues to type away at his holo-keyboard like he isn't tapping and sliding his fingers through a puddle of coffee. His bulging bruised eyes not taking even a moment to blink as they are locked to the screen.

It was bad when it was just Tony. When he was her boss and she wasn't morally obligated to make sure he didn't short his heart out on the saddest coffee she'd ever laid eyes on. It was bad when it was just him and his suites and a busted old coffee pot for days on end.

But now, now that Bruce and Peter have joined the shit show, it's so much worse. Those three might have papers and degrees and aptitude tests and shit to designate them geniuses, "the most intelligent men earth has to offer" but Peter has webbed his feet to a wall head dangling just high enough above the floor to shove a pillow under in order to, and she quotes, "let gravity hold his eyelids up". And Bruce has stripped down to his socks, undershirt, and lab coat sometime since last night. Though he's still sitting crossed legged in the exact same spot holo-screens encasing him in a done of pallid blue light.

They started out collaborating, she's sure if it. They'd been gathered around a table throwing ideas back and forth. Now however they all sat spaced apart. Only screens flicking from one person to another indicated any sort of interaction. They were all facing a different wall for God sakes!

The mini-fridge had run dry at lunch yesterday and from the looks of it, no one had attempted to find food elsewhere.

Intern at Stark industries, they said.

Take that position, they said.

It'll look good on your resume, they said.

Be Tony Stark's assistant, they said.

It's a once in a lifetime opportunity, they said.

They didn't say she'd be left in charge of an entire fortune 500 company and a hyperfixating man child with zero self-preservation skills and his enabling partners in crime.

But her time as personal assistant did equip her with an array of weaknesses to be exploited in the pursuit of finagling her husband.

The entire spread of burgers, pizza, Thai food, swarm, and eggplant parmigiana in the dining room was level one. Level two was Steve waiting in the elevator as back up if necessary. Level three was an auto generated text from aunt may to Peter's phone. And finally if all else fails, level four was to just grab the coffee maker and run.

She took a deep steadying breath trying not to focus on Peter struggling to unstick his eyelids from where they dried open. None of them had noticed her standing in the doorway for going on three minutes despite the elevator pinning doing her arrival. Just enough time to come to terms with the fact that this was her circus and those, those her monkeys.

[sweetheartjeongguk]

twitchy witchy girl

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: kiki’s delivery service au, fluff, minor angst

rating: pg

warning(s): oc is mean to jimin but makes up for it in the end, slight public humiliation

word count: 3.3k+

summary: maybe human boys aren’t so bad after all. 

a/n: here’s a late birthday gift to the loml park jimin 

masterlist | studio ghibli masterlist

“He’s here to see you again.”

Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Honey, stop slamming your head against the counter. You’re going to give yourself a concussion.”

“Sounds like a fun way to go.”

“He’s been waiting outside for quite some time.” The older woman hums, one hand on her pregnant belly and the other resting on top of your shoulder.

When you first arrived in the new beachside town, you had high hopes of being incredibly popular and staying in a fabulous mansion where you practically drown in luxury. Instead, you’re stuck living in a one-room apartment with your cat familiar, Mochi, and working for Lee Eunji and her husband as their very first delivery witch.    

While most of the townspeople saw witches as nothing but troublemakers, Eunji saw a new opportunity.

“Tell him I’m dead.” You rub at your forehead once the throbbing became too much.

“He said he’d buy a Ouija board.”

“Tell him I moved away.”

“He can literally see you.” Eunji scoffs, waving a hand towards the front of the store.

With a disgruntled huff, you lift your head to follow Eunji’s line of sight.

Park Jimin stands with his hands tucked in his front pockets and an exasperated look on his face. He paces in front of the doorway, muttering something to himself while glancing into the store from the corner of his eye. When he notices your staring, he skids to a stop.

To this day, you have no clue why he’s interested in you. Sure, you’re a witch who can do all types of magic and fly on a broomstick which is enough to entertain the grumpiest of fiends. But one thing’s for sure – you and Park Jimin are two different people heading down two different paths. He’s the stereotypical rich boy who’s loved and admired by all simply for breathing air. Meanwhile, you’re the scary girl who can’t hold a decent conversation with another person without them sputtering something about magic and witchcraft.

“See?” Eunji chuckles at your obvious discomfort. “Can’t back out of this one, bud. Just go see what he wants.”

“Do you think you can bail me out of jail after I charm him into a cockroach and squish him with my foot?” You lean your cheek against the crook of your elbow in thought.  

“How about…” Eunji brushes back the strands of hair that fall across your face. “…you not resort to murder and just talk to him like a normal human being?”

“You’re just saying that because you think he’s pretty. He’s cast a spell on you too.” You roll your eyes as Eunji motions for Jimin to come inside.

“You’re the only witch here, sweetheart.” Eunji winks before going to check on the freshly baked loaves of bread resting in the kitchen.  

Jimin glows brighter than usual, his swept-back blond hair hidden underneath a red beret that makes him look like a stereotypical French boy. You snort to yourself when you take in the rest of his outfit – black-and-white striped shirt tucked into slim-fitting slacks with sleek black dress shoes.

Talk about Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes.

“Why, hello there, Mr. Park! What can we do for you today?” Eunji peeps her head through the kitchen doorway.  

“Hi, Mrs. Lee.” Jimin replies smoothly, hands crossed behind his back in an innocent manner. “I was wondering if I could grab Y/N for a second.”

You could barely hold back your disgust when you notice Eunji melting under Jimin’s sweet façade. He has virtually everyone in town wrapped around his stupid chubby pinky finger, and you refuse to let yourself fall for one of his tricks. 

“Y/N’s not here right now.” You grit your teeth. “Please leave a message after the fuc—"

“Y/N! Be nice.”

You push off of the stool you were sitting in behind the counter with a grunt. Your muscles are still sore from your delivery yesterday. Thankfully, there aren’t any major deliveries that afternoon so you’re free to stuff your face with as many as chocolate pastries as your heart desires.

Jimin draws in a small breath as you approach, mentally preparing his little speech he wrote on his way to the bakery that afternoon. He starts to open his mouth but only lets out a pathetic squeak as you roughly brush past him on your way to the pastry tray on the other side of the room.  

“Y/N!” Eunji scolds before turning to Jimin with an apologetic pout. “I’m so sorry about her, she’s still trying to get used to everything.”

“Oh no, I understand!” Jimin chuckles awkwardly, a hand reaching behind to rub the back of his neck. “Anyways…Y/N, there’s s-something I wanted to ask you.”

You hum absentmindedly as you stuff a large creampuff into your mouth. You wonder if you could cast a spell to speed up his spiel so that you’ll still have time to catch the new episode of your favorite television show that’s scheduled to air in a half hour.

“My aviation club at school is hosting a party this Saturday.” Jimin announces, his voice wavering from subtle nerves. “I was wondering if you would like to come.”

You silently scold your heart for thumping a little harder than usual. Attending a party with Jimin as his…date. The word should have sent a disgusted shiver down your spine, but all you get is a flood of butterflies in your stomach.

For some reason, the thought of Jimin in a tuxedo didn’t seem so bad.

“Oh, that sounds lovely!” Eunji claps her hands excitedly. “It’ll be a great chance for you to make some friends, Y/N!”

“Oh yeah, definitely!” Jimin blurts out. “The rest of the guys are just dying to meet a witch. They’re really curious to learn more about how your broom works!”

Just like that, the mood dies. As a matter of fact, it doesn’t just die. It comes barreling towards the earth in a frenzy of fire and heat, striking the ground with tremendous force and destroying everything in its path.

He didn’t want you to go with him – he just wants to show you off like some circus act to his friends.

In that moment, you’re reminded of why you didn’t trust him. He might have Eunji and everyone else fooled, but you know better. Park Jimin’s just like everyone else, and you curse yourself for nearly falling into his trap.

Eunji watches inquisitively as you make your way towards the boy holding the invitation in both hands. There’s a tight grin that stretches across your face in a Cheshire Cat-like manner. The sight is quite unsettling to Eunji, but Jimin still beams at you as if he’s found the answers to his prayers.

“An invitation just for me?” You grab the invitation, ignoring the pleasant sensation of his soft skin brushing against yours.

“Yup! I saved one just for you.” Jimin nods excitedly.

“Oh really?”

“Yes! We’re really interested in learn—”

Rrrrip.

Jimin’s smile breaks as you tear the card in half. You barely hear Eunji gasping in the background as you shred the invitation into several jagged pieces. With a snap of your fingers, the slivers of paper burst into flames and float pathetically to the linoleum floor in a burnt crisp.

In an instant, your crazed smile transforms into a disgusted scowl. “Thanks for the invite, but I’d prefer company with people who don’t use me as their personal flying monkey.”

“Y/N!” Eunji hisses sharply.

You ignore her. “I know you think that you’re being cute and funny, but honestly, you’re just annoying and pathetic.”

Jimin stands frozen in the middle of the bakery, his bleary eyes fixated on the burnt strips scattered across the floor. Eunji rushes over from the kitchen to collect the mess with a broom and dustpan, glancing up when she notices your figure escape through the backdoor towards your living quarters.

“Jimin, I am so sorry about her.” Eunji sighs in exasperation. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

Jimin nods stiffly. “It’s n-no problem. I understand…”

Eunji opens her mouth at another attempt of a worthless apology, but Jimin’s already turning on his heel and heading out of the door, the tiniest sniffle betraying his quiet composure. Eunji watches in pity as Jimin disappears down the street with his shoulders slumped forward and his hands tucked into his front pockets once more.

He’s lucky that his route continues straight down the road. That way, Eunji doesn’t notice the tears dribbling down his cheeks reddened from embarrassment.  

Ever since you burned his invitation in his face, Eunji hasn’t spoken to you. After you escaped the bakery and hid in your room to watch tv with Mochi, she barged in with the pile of ashes in her hands. She promptly tosses the charred papers on top of your nightstand, turning on her heel with a repulsed sneer.  

“I’m disappointed in you. Honestly.”

Whether you like it or not, your chest twinges with guilt. Apart from being like a second mother to you, Eunji’s your best friend. When you faced the threat of living out on the streets with no food or money, she was the one who took you under her wing and offered you not only a job but a place to sleep and eat.  

Now, it’s as if the sight of you makes her sick to her stomach. This time, you couldn’t even blame Park Jimin for it.

“If he just left me alone like I told him millions of times before, we wouldn’t be having this issue.”

“That may be,” Mochi purrs. “But you did embarrass him by burning his invitation in his face. The very same invitation he had kept specifically for you and only you.”

“So?” You grumble. “He only invited me because he wanted me to entertain his dumb friends.”

The gentle evening breeze soars in through your open window, chilling you to the bone. You slightly curse at yourself for not dressing in warmer pajamas, but your earnings for the month wouldn’t give you much. You’d borrow from Eunji, but 1) most of her wardrobe right now are maternity clothes and 2) she currently refuses to speak with you.

You let out a long whine, sounding exactly like your five-year-old self who cried when a wave toppled her over during a family vacation to the beach. “Do I have to?”

Mochi stares at you without a word.  

“What if I fake my death?”

“Y/N…”

“Okay, fine…but if he doesn’t accept my apology, then can I fake my death?”

You feel silly.

Dressed in a white dress that molds tightly against your waist and puffs out at the skirt, you look and feel like a creampuff. After begging for her forgiveness for two hours straight, Eunji goes to work on preparing your party outfit. You pout about the centimeter-thick layer of foundation and powder, but Eunji shrugs off your complaints with an uncaring smirk. Perhaps it’s your punishment for not listening to her in the first place.

“It’s itchy.” You whine as the lace fabric continues to scratch against your skin.

Eunji holds in her laughter as you shift uncomfortably in your seat. “If only you focused on your special magic training and not on hurting the feelings of people who like you, you could have learned how to cast an anti-itching spell.”

“Spells are hard…” You pout. “And he doesn’t like me, he just wants to pretend to get to know me so that he can tell people that he knows a witch. It’s exploitation at its finest.”

Eunji shakes her head in disbelief. “I’d think you witches would have some type of clairvoyance about you, but you’re completely dense.”

“I’m not a psychic.” You roll your eyes. “I’m starting to think that no one in this town cares enough to educate themselves on witch culture.”

“Well, if you weren’t such a grumpy old troll, then maybe you could educate those people about witches.” Eunji pokes your nose with the end of a concealer brush as she finishes up the last touch-ups to your makeup.

“I shouldn’t have to.” You try to cross your arms, but you find it almost impossible considering how tight the chest of the dress was. “For once, I want someone to learn for themselves for once instead of using me for laughs and giggles.”

Eunji sighs in defeat. While the makeup and fancy dress did wonders to brighten your usual gloomy appearance, the frown marring your brow seems to remain there permanently.  

“Honey…” Eunji says quietly. “I might not be a witch, but I know a thing or two about love. That boy definitely likes you for you, not because he wants to cross ‘Meet a witch’ off his bucket list.”

You continue to fiddle with the lace of the skirt, nearly ripping out a stray thread before laying your palms flat in your lap.

“I’ve never seen a boy so adamant about visiting a girl everyday even if he can just get one sentence in.” Eunji laughs softly. “Reminds me of my husband when we were first dating. He wouldn’t let me go for one second.”

You try to laugh, but you end up looking like you swallowed something inedible.  

“I’m not saying that you need to date him or anything.” Eunji shakes her head. “I’m just saying that you should give Jimin a chance. You’d do good with some friends in this town, even if it’s just him.”

With that, Eunji holds out a clenched fist. You’re quick to grab whatever’s in her hands, but you instantly blanch when the substance fills your palms. While most of the invitation’s burnt to a crisp, one part of the paper remains semi-readable.

“Ms. Witch…”

A couple days ago, you’d be rolling your eyes and threatening to shove your broomstick where the sun won’t shine if Jimin had called you by that nickname. Now, all you could feel is a delightful warmth that spreads from your face down to your toes.  

You’re screwed. You’re definitely screwed.

“You might want to head off now!” Eunji yells. You lift your head in surprise when you notice that she’s already escaped into the kitchen. “It looks like it’s going to rain! Better not be late!”

Desperately shoving the remnants of the invitation into your bra, you barely spare a coherent farewell as you dash into the street and kicking off the ground with your broomstick between your legs. As you head southwest towards the party, you force several deep breaths as you settle the anxiety that plagues your veins and kickstarts your heart into overdrive.

“This better work.” You whisper to yourself, ignoring the tiny droplets of water that begin to fall from the cluster of clouds above.

Your jaw drops at the vast size of the house. Classical music plays on repeat as the guests mingle around the dining room that looks as though it could fit an entire country and a half inside. You observe from the outside, completely unbothered as the rain soaks through your clothes and streaks your makeup. While you take a moment to admire the decorations strung across the walls and on the ceiling, your eyes wander in search of one individual in particular.

“Excuse me.” Someone coughs.

Behind you, a boy watches you with a dirty look, almost as if he wishes to say, “You obviously look like you don’t belong here”. While he isn’t far from the truth, you couldn’t help but mirror his unimpressed glare.

“I’m sorry, but this party is reserved for members only.” He retorts snootily. “I’m afraid I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“Jokes on you, asshole, I have an invitation…” You answer quickly.

“Is that so?” He asks with a pretentious scoff. “Where is it?”

You choke on your words. You almost forgot that the evidence is literally shoved inside your cleavage. “U-Um…well the thing is…”

“Y/N?”

You, along with Mr. Stick-Stuck-High-Up-In-My-Ass, turn towards the new visitor. Your heart prickles with something foreign at the sight of Park Jimin in a suit and tie and a cute flower tucked inside his pocket.

“Hi…” You reply meekly, eyes fixated on the growing puddle on the edge of the sidewalk.

You completely miss the elated glint in Jimin’s eyes.

“She’s your guest, Park?” The boy asks warily, still viewing you as some kind of creature who escaped from the Black Lagoon.  

You’ll be sure to add a little something extra to his hors d’oeuvres when you get the chance.

“Yeah, she’s my plus-one.” Jimin answers confidently. “I didn’t get to give her the invitation, but her name’s on the list if you want to check.”

The boy watches Jimin carefully before rolling his eyes. “I’ll be sure to check the list. Be sure that next time, everyone has an invite before they just show up unannounced and unwanted.”

Oh, how you wish you could use your magic for bad just once. Sure, you might face lifelong consequences that could inevitably affect your future…but would one time really make a difference?

“Sorry about him.” Jimin scratches the back of his neck. “Jihyun can be pretty uptight sometimes…”

“I can handle uptight just fine.” You shrug awkwardly. “T-Thanks though.”

Jimin clears his throat. “Yeah, of course! Anytime…”

There’s a brief moment of silence that you wish you could break without looking like a complete fool. Thankfully, Jimin takes the initiative from you.  

“Y-You look really pretty.”

Thankfully, the foundation that Eunji caked onto your cheeks covers any sign of redness. Unfortunately, it did make you look like you took a dip into a giant frosting container.

“Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself.” You force yourself to playfully nudge at his shoulder. “You clean up rather nicely.”

“T-Thanks, my mom picked it out.” Jimin immediately clamps his mouth shut. You smile at the obvious embarrassment that floods his features and purses his lips into a demure pout.

It’s cute. In fact, it’s the type of cute that makes you want to drop everything and bring him back home to introduce to your entire family.

If only Eunji were here, she’d be getting a kick out of your emotional turmoil.

“Uh, a-anyways,” Jimin stammers nervously. “Why did you come tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, making Jimin quickly backpedal on his words.

“N-Not that you’re not allowed to come! You’re totally allowed to come, it’s totally fine by me. I j-just thought you didn’t want to…you know, after you…burned the invitation to a crisp.”

“Oh yeah! That reminds me…”

Jimin pales as you dig inside to collect the blackened scraps, your tongue poking through the side of your mouth in concentration. He quickly diverts his attention towards the large oak tree hanging overhead, trying hard not to think about how your breasts are half a foot away from his face.

“There we are!”

Hesitantly craning his neck towards you once more, Jimin meets your upturned hands that cradle the destroyed scraps of the invitation. He cocks an eyebrow at this – what’s he supposed to do with that?

Jimin swallows his retort when suddenly, the papers swirl around almost like in a mini tornado, fusing back together. With a poof, the paper transforms from a charcoal black to its original eggshell white, complete with the original detailing and “Dear Ms. Witch…” at the very top of the card. As a special treat, you add an extra touch that Jimin can’t help but crack a smile at.

There’s a crude stick figure drawing of the two of you sitting side-by-side with a tiny pink heart floating above your heads. It may have been a trick of the light, but Jimin could swear that your little stick figure presses a kiss to stick figure Jimin’s cheek.

“Ta-da…” You smile shyly as you slip the paper into Jimin’s hand. “It’s corny, I know, but…”

“W-What changed your mind?” Jimin asks bashfully as he presses the card to his chest.

You shrug teasingly. “You’re not as bad as I thought you were. Also, it helps that you’re a little cute.”

“And the truth?”

“Eunji threatened to steal my broomstick and sell it in next week’s yard sale if I didn’t show up.”

“Why am I not surprised?”