#my family physical forced me into biting the cake that was funny

[jumjum-crafts]

Idk what hour it is over there but right now it is my birthday! Yippie!

[i-just-love-spop]

For the OC asks, could you do 2 for Clover, 26 for Arrow, 14 for Sagi, 34 for Thorn, 48 for Finn, 38 for Leo, 71 for Angie, and 3 for Willow? Also, thanks again for sending me asks for my characters.

For context: Arrow, Angie and Sagi are my Glimbow-kids, Leo and Finn are my Catradora-kids and Clover, Thorn and Willow are three of my Scorfuma-kids.

Other characters mentioned: Kohana is another one of my Scorfuma-kids, Sirena is one of my Seamista-kids and Eira is Frosta’s adopted daughter.

Here are the questions again if anyone wants to ask anything else.

2. Do they have a fear of an animal? If so, what animal?

Yes, he does. Clover is afraid of birds, especially really big ones. There’s no specific reason for this, at least none he can place, but he just finds them kind of terrifying for some reason. He had a lot of nightmares about being pecked at as a kid, and he’s still startled by big birds when he grows older.

It also takes him some time to get used to Angie because of this. When she’s flying around, the sound of her giant wings flapping freaks him out quite a bit.

26. Have they ever been in a physical fight before? If so, with who? Who won?

Arrow actually gets into a lot of fights – most of them accidentally. She’s not one to deliberately pick fights under normal circumstances, but she often ends up in situations where they just can’t be avoided, especially when she’s with Sirena. They’re both sensible people most of the time, but Sirena is very inquisitive and keeps probing people even when it’s obvious that they don’t appreciate her digging into stuff that’s not really her business, and she’s also not good at biting back sarcastic comments when they’re out of place, which gets her in trouble often, and then Arrow gets in trouble along with her most of the time. The fact that Arrow has a tendency to be a bit too sassy for her own good usually also doesn’t help defuse the situations they get into.

Who wins might depend, but she’s more likely to loose, at least when it comes to physical fights – she has won a couple of times, but she’s not that great with hand-to-hand-combat outside of training situations (she and Sirena fight in training regularly, and whoever looses will not hear the end of it for at least an entire week, but that doesn’t really count because they just kind of know the way the other moves after a couple of years, which of course isn’t the case in regular fights). She’s more the “if possible let’s blind them and get out of here before things get serious”-type of person, and if that’s not a possibility, she will still choose using magic to fight from a distance over brawls any day.

There’s one particularly bad incident when she’s about sixteen where she and Sirena investigate some strange activity in the Crimson Waste, and once again Sirena cannot keep her mouth shut and they end up in a fight, which is especially problematic because there is no water anywhere near them that Sirena could use for self-defense. The criminals corner them pretty quickly, forcing them into hand-to-hand-combat. And the two girls lose. Badly.

14. What is a pet peeve of theirs?

People. Being. Mean. To. Willow.

Also, Sagi really has an issue with unreliable people who don't follow through on promises. He takes promises very seriously and is genuinely hurt when people say they’ll do something for or with him and then don’t do it.

If someone promises too meet him, he’ll expect them to show up and be really upset if they don’t. Being late is fine, but not showing up at all really hurts, even if it’s just out of forgetfulness rather than out of malicious intent.

And sure, he’ll forgive someone after they broke a promise and maybe put on a fake smile, but once you’ve broken a promise without having a good reason to (sometimes things don’t happen as planned, and if the person just couldn’t keep the promise because of something out of their control, that’s fine), he’ll possibly never trust them again the way he used to.

He also doesn’t forgive being lied to very easily, at least if it’s a serious topic.

34. Have they ever broken the law?

No. Thorn I think is the one that’s the least likely to break the law out of all of my characters? She’s the teachers’ favorite student, good-girl kind of person and would never do anything that could potentially harm someone else. She wouldn’t hurt a fly – aside from accidentally stinging people out of reflex if they startle her –, which is ironic, since she’s definitely one of the most powerful kids and also the one that could potentially cause the most damage out of all of them because she’s the only kid that’s connected to more than one Runestone.

The only thing she’s ever done that might be considered law-breaking would be the cake-‘heists’ Arrow pulls with her (and sometimes also Sirena if she’s around), where they sneak into the Bright Moon-kitchen and ‘steal’ cake if one of them is upset for some reason... but nobody actually considers it stealing since Arrow is the princess, and the kitchen staff often just... pretend not to see it when the kids are young but actually deliberately place some cake somewhere they can reach it easily so they don’t climb the furniture and get hurt.

48. What does their room look like?

Finn has a huge bed. Don’t tell anyone, but it actually has the softest mattress in the entire palace because they genuinely like sinking into the mattress unlike their moms.

When they’re practicing a scene for the first time, they spread out the pages in order all over the bed and read every page in a different position and with a different voice.

They also have a really large wardrobe. This is because they have tons of different clothes – both regular and costumes – because they love dressing up in different ways to play different characters. It’s not quite Double Trouble’s shapeshifting abilities, but it’s close enough. If they can fool someone in Bright Moon into thinking they’re someone else than Finn, they’re extremely happy for the rest of the day because that means their acting skills are actually kind of good. They also have the biggest, weirdest wigs and hats you could ever imagine, both because it’s funny to see other people’s reactions to them and because they’re good for cheering people up and making them laugh when they’re in a bad mood, which can be found all over the room. (Honestly, they have so many different clothes that they try on regularly spread out across the furniture of the room that sometimes you wonder if anything is actually inside the wardrobe).

There’s also about three different lamps on the ceiling for different kinds of lighting for when they need to practice scenes – one was a present from the Seamista-family and sort of imitates Mermista’s ‘lightning when I need it for dramatic effects’, one is a mood light that can change color that their moms and their older brother got them together, and one is a straight up spotlight from Double Trouble. Pro tip: don’t turn them on all at once, especially not in addition to the regular ceiling light, unless you want to go blind or crazy or both.

They also have a meditating mat hidden under the bed somewhere that they’ll absolutely only ever use when they’re sure no one is around because they’re too embarrassed to admit they actually kind of enjoy it, as well as tons of childhood toys that are kept in a treasure chest for good memories.

Finn’s also pretty sure they misplaced a knife in the room somewhere because they ‘borrowed’ it from Arrow’s knife throwing target when they needed it to practice for a scene (nobody was hurt, thankfully), and after that, it just kind of... disappeared and was never seen again.

They have a family picture in the nightstand drawer that’s way more precious to Finn than any of the toys they got as a kid could ever be, and beside it is a bracelet that Bow and Glimmer gave them for their very first audition when they were still a little kid that they’ve since worn to all their auditions as a good-luck-charm.

They also have some crafting and sewing supplies lying around because if they can’t find the exact clothes or accessories they have in mind, they might as well make them.

Some posters on the walls cover the burns left there by Kohana when they trained in the room very poorly.

And there’s a waterfall, because this just seems to be a thing in Bright Moon. Finn also has no idea what it’s for.

38. Do they get along with others easily?

Leo has a hard time making friends because he’s pretty shy, and he’s also very shut-in for a while after he’s adopted because he’s pretty traumatized from losing his biological parents.

Aside from that, he is a very sweet little kitten that most people like once they get to know him, and very unlike his parents, he doesn’t really pick fights – although he does sometimes end up in some anyway – or ever make actual enemies (which, admittedly, is kind of easier without the Horde around to ruin everyone’s day).

Sure, there are people who don’t like him – I mean, really, having literally everyone like you would be kind of a reach –, but his friends love him to pieces, and he’s one of those people that rarely ever fight with their friends.

So in general, I would say yes, he does get along with others pretty easily, as long as he can actually bring himself to start a conversation.

There is an exception, however, and that’s if someone he meets is rude to him or his friends right off the bat for no reason. He will not try harder to get this person to like him. He‘ll forget his shyness for a moment, hiss at them and move on.

He won’t waste his time and energy on trying to get along with someone like that.

71. Who is their ride or die?

Angie is actually kind of a fun person for this question because she’s not close with many people – nor does she want to be, she’s never been very comfortable with the idea of a huge friend group – and if she ever lets anyone get close, there’s a good chance she would go to great lengths for them.

Out of her family, her ride or die is definitely Sagi. She gets annoyed by his clinginess sometimes and his enthusiasm can get exhausting to her – especially because she’s not a morning person and she doesn’t appreciate him talking her ear off at seven in the morning because she doesn’t even want to be up already can he please shut up, but they are really close because they’re so close in age and she loves him dearly and is very protective of him. He gets insulted from time to time because a bunch of people find his endless babbling annoying, but while the insults fly over his own head most of the time, there’s a chance said people might get their ass kicked by her later if she overhears it. She also tries to keep a bit of an eye on him whenever she can because she knows how much of a klutz he is and that he has a tendency to get himself into dangerous situations by accident.

Out of her friends, Eira. These two are a bit of an odd match because Angie prefers to go on adventures alone and Eira doesn’t like to go on adventures at all and would rather stay inside all day... but when they met they just kind of clicked. Eira is the only one Angie will actually stay inside and read a book with, and Angie is the only one that can really bring Eira to take risks.

3. What do they wear to bed?

The most important thing for Willow is comfortable clothes. How they look doesn’t matter as much as how they make Willow feel when worn – the fluffier the clothes are, the better. They also prefer long, warm clothes over short ones.

Willow doesn’t get hot very easily, and either way, they prefer being hot at night a lot over being cold (they can’t sleep at all when they’re cold), so they’ll still wear long woolen clothes all through spring and at least during parts of summer.

They really like colorful clothes, especially when they’re a kid, and despite eventually growing to like simpler colors when it comes to the clothes they wear in public, their pajamas always stay really colorful.

They also have a glow-in-the-dark-pajama with stars and planets on it that helps them cope with their fear of the dark.

[marchioness-caprina]

Know Your Tumblrist

> What Do you Prefer To be Called?

- I prefer to Be Called Caprina or Brie.

> How Old Are You?

- My age range is 16 - 18

> When is Your Birthday?

- Dec, 25.

> Your Pronouns?

- She, Her, Miss

> Do You Have a Pet?

- Well We Have tons of Domestic Pets, 4 Dogs, 3 Puppies, 4 Cats.

> What Is/are your Favorite Color?

- Sky Blue

- Red

- Violet

- White

- Gray

- Orange

- Blue

- Black

> What Is/are Your Favorite Food?

- Anything Spicy

- Chocolate but I Don't Like Chocolate Cakes for some reason. Especial Cupcakes.

- Sour Food

> What is Your Favorite Subject?

- English, The Only subject that I could easily go with the flow without having any headaches.

> What is Your Favorite Sport?

- Badminton, I'm not a Very Athletic person and Going outside is already a chore for me. But I do enjoy playing Badminton.

> What are Your Hobbies?

- Drawing

- Writing

- Journaling

- Reading Books

> Which Subject is Your Least Favorite?

- Math, The Main Reason why students want to go back time and destroy Calculus along with the evolution of Mathematics.

> What Is Your Favorite Animal?

- Dogs, Always have and always will be fond of Dogs No matter how They violently Bark and Growl at Me.

> Favorite Ice Cream?

- Bubblegum, Vanilla and Cookies and Cream.

> Favorite Super Hero?

- Iron Man, I Like his Sass and He is my Ideal Father Figure.

> Favorite Fruit?

- Grapes, Apple.

> Favorite Dessert?

- I'm not Picky with Desserts but I Have a special spot for Pudding.

> Favorite Holiday?

- Christmas, My B-day

> Favorite Season?

- Winter, It gives me ankyuer solid Reason to stay home and do nothing.

> Zodiac Sign?

- A Proud Capricorn.

> 3 Fears I Have :

- The Ocean

- Lizards

- The Death of My Favorite Anime Character.

> 5 Turn On's :

- Neck Kisses

- Submissiveness

- Timidity

- Soft Bois

- Possessiveness

> Gender?

- Female

> Sexual Orientation? :

- Straight

> How Tall am I?

- I'm not Proud of It but I'm 5'0 , I still have hope in my height....

> Do I Have a Crush?

- it's Tiring and Unnecessary. but If Fictional Characters Count then Yes.

> Eye Color?

- Black

> Hair Color?

- Black

> My Current Relationship Status :

- Single, My Whole Life I've been Single.

> Addiction?

- Collecting Stationaries

> Coffee or Tea?

- Tea is Life

> Fruit Tea or Milk Tea?

- Fruit Tea is also Life

BNHA Corner

> Favorite Male Character?

- Tamaki Amajiki

> Why I Like Him?

- I don't Know, Maybe because he Fits some of my preference in a Boy? Also because he has this unusual Pull over me that attracts me in a manner that is borderline obsessive. But Fortunately I haven't crossed that dark path just yet.

> Favorite Female Character?

- Rumi

> Why I Like Her?

- She Remind me of that One Neighbor everyone Likes.

> My Top 10 Character Preference?

- Tamaki Amajiki

- Keigo Takami

- Todoroki Shouto

- Bakugou Katsuki

- Shinso Hitoshi

- Izuku Midoriya

- Neito Monoma

- Tomura Shigaraki

- Dabi/ Touya Todoroki

- Taishiro Toyomitsu

> The First Character I First Fell In Love with?

- Bakugou Katsuki ( Boomie here is my First Choice then Poof Tamaki decided to be a Sweetheart and Fucking Made me do a back flip towards him)

> Would I want to Be a Hero or A Villain?

- I think a Hero would be a More stable Job than a Villain. Stability is My goal.

> Favorite Teacher In BNHA?

- Aizawa Shota ( Don't deny it you Love Dadzawa too )

> Favorite Pro Hero In BNHA?

- Hawks ( Kentucky Chicken Mc Birdman is my main boi when it comes to Pro Heroes )

> Favorite Villain?

- Daddy---- I mean Dabi ( Tho Handfuck ain't bad either)

> Why I Like Them?

- dO I EvEn NeeD a ReAsON WhY I Like Him? umm Cause I Like Burnt Food???

> What Quirk Would I Like?

- Actually it's not decided yet since I have a whole Journal about Quirks that I researched and Designed.

> Favorite Class B Character?

- Neito Monoma

> Why I Like them?

- He's Kind of a Sore Loser ( For a Copycat) but His Character really spikes up the dullness like he's funny; Being all serious with his mockery while everyone else just gives off a look that's says : ' Oh look it's captain Bullshit trying to be cool again but he's failing shit '

> Which Class 1 A Character would I like to Spar With?

- Honestly I'd Like to Spar with Hagakure; Truthfully speaking she's by far one of the most Harmless Characters. ( I ain't betting by life to fight Boom Boom Kid cause I have no Physical Talents whatsoever )

> Which Class 1 A Character I Never want to Spar with?

- It's either Boom Boom kid or Icy Hotty, But mostly Boom Boom Kid. He's an absolute brute at the field and he could fly with sheer anger alone. He's aggressive and I don't want to have his firework quirk blowing up my Face.

> Which Character I would Like to Befriend First?

- The Most Tame one of all ; Midoriya the Broccoli and being friends with him has a lot of benefits. I get to be part of the Protect Deku Squad and I can ask him to copy my notes since the kid is a literal copy machine. Heck he puts a copy machine to shame. You know I think that may be his quirk----

> If I Base it on my Personality would I be A Villain or a Hero?

- No Doubt I'd be a Corrupted Hero; I'm not a noble or a righteous person and Things that aren't my problem has nothing to do with me at all. I don't like it when people bark at me cause I know I tend to Bite Back I don't bark I bite.

> Would I Join an Agency Or Make My Own?

- I'd make my Own if I was given a Chance to.

> Which Characters Would I Like to Work with?

- Hawks ; He may not be the safest but he knows how to carry on one sided conversations and with precise movements and speed he could take out any villain on his own without me having to worry about hiding to the nearest pole.

> If I were To Build a Team of 7 Characters who would Be in my List Explain. ?

- Midoriya : His Quick wit and Adaptable Analysis Skills could come in Handy in Making On the spot Strategies since he always seems to look at things in a logical and rationally beneficial way.

- Bakugou : The Kid is a menace and he is made to be an aggressor so when it comes to face to face combat Having a spontaneous yet calculative Bakugou to sweep the floor clean and be the Main front liner wouldn't be a Bad Idea. He knows how a fight works and he is very resourceful with his moved and paired with his sharp mind he'd definitely be a force to be reckoned with.

- Todoroki - He is excellent at being an object of distraction and destruction. Having the enemies frozen in place is helpful in most situations and by using his fire quirk he could easily wipe out and distance the villains or enemies that's surrounding the area.

- Tamaki Amajiki : The perfect 2 in 1 combo. With his quirk he could serve as an attacker and a defender. Though picking the right food he consumes would be the key to success and his entire performance on the field will mostly reflect to the food he eats so it's wise to prepare a handful of food at a time .

- Hawks : He was built for this, Though he may not be the strongest it terms of strength but he makes up a lot when it comes to speed and agility; his fighting abilities is beyond average and it wouldn't take a genius to know that he has gained mastery over his quirk. Plus his feathers can serve as sensors to know more about the surroundings including the enemies that are present and probably their location. And he'd definitely be my main man during a chase or escape type of scenario.

- Aizawa : With Aizawa's erasure quirk and keen eyes it would be a powerful addition for the team. Plus he possesses incredible combat prowess and ingenuity with or without the use of his canceling quirk and his ability to restrain his opponents is another advantage.

- Taishiro Toyomitsu - My ultimate Defense Character. I don't think I have to explain any further with how his quirk works and the advantages of him being in the team.

> Do I Have an Oc?

- As for the Moment the OC that I have released in public is Rui. But yes I do have ongoing Oc's.

> How Many Oc's do I Have?

- The number is still undecided.

> A Character That Is The Most Similar to me Based on Personality?

- Well I asked a family of mine to answer this for me and she replied that My Personality Corresponds With Shoto's with a Mixture of Keigo. ( Even tho I don't act like it here )

> What Hair color would I Like?

- As Long as It has Sky Blue in it.

> What Eye color would I like?

- Lavender or Silver

> Which Skin tone would I Like?

- I don't know skin tone doesn't really matter for me but if I had to pick then I'd choose maybe tan or olive?

> My Top 10 Student Characters?

- Tamaki Amajiki

- Midoriya Izuku

- Katsuki Bakugou

- Todoroki Shouto

- Eijiro Kirishima

- Mina Ashido

- Tenya Iida

- Shinso Hitoshi

- Neito Monoma

- Fumikage Tokoyami

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Mysterio

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

In one of the greatest twists in all of cinematic history, it turns out that Mysterio, the man who in the comics is one of Spider-Man’s most iconic foes and who was heavily hyped by marketing as TOTALLY a good guy, is in actuality… a villain. Bet you didn’t see that one coming!

I think the real twist is that, despite how obvious the twist is and despite how much they change going into this character, they really managed to make him one of the most enjoyable antagonists in all of the MCU. And trust me, the fact that he is yet another villain that Tony Stark inadvertently helped create is a big hurdle to overcome, not to mention Beck is coming right on the heels of one of the MCU’s greatest villain so far, Thanos. But somehow Quentin Beck manages to not only be great, but a villain who takes the cake as one of the most terrifically amoral douchebags in all of cinematic history.

Actor: Jake Gyllenhaal plays Mysterio, and while it is literally impossible to make this man ugly like his comic counterpart, they not only managed to give a good reason why Quentin Beck should be sexy but they gave it to the perfect actor for the role. Gyllenhaal manages to sell Beck as a charming and likable fellow, a “cool uncle” figure to Peter as he has been described, to the point where the inevitable reveal that he’s just a scumbag who is lying out his ass about everything sting all the more even though it is so obviously coming. And when Beck’s true nature is revealed, Gyllenhaal manages to use that natural charm Beck seems to exude to make him at once completely hilarious with how he treats everything his team does as a primadonna actor would as well as utterly terrifying with his extremely blasé attitude towards killing children, treating it less like a contemptible crime and more like an annoying speedbump in his career he’d really rather not do. Gyllenhaal absolutely nails it, and while this Beck may not be in the film business like in the comics, he still manages to be one Hell of an actor.

Motivation/Goals: As it turns out, Beck was the guy who made B.A.R.F. If you don’t remember what that is, don’t worry; the movie gives a flashback to the scene where Tony debuts it in Civil War. Beck was fired by Stark for being too dangerous and unstable, and giving his hard work a stupid acronym was the last straw for Beck, who proceeded to round up disgruntled Stark employees to utilize illusion technology, drones, costumes, and special effects to essentially do what Syndrome wanted to do in The Incredibles: create fake world-threatening problems that he could solve with ease to make himself out to be a hero, all the while causing untold amounts of death and destruction in an attempt to make things realistic. You know, just like how a totally normal, mentally stable person would do it. This might actually be the one time where Tony made a good call in firing someone and it still somehow comes back to bite the people he cares about in the ass.

Personality: Quentin Beck, when acting as a hero, exudes the sort of charm and charisma one would expect of a hero, though occasional hints at his ego and lack of modesty do pop up; however, all of that is subdued by the general air of cool, friendly affability he exudes. He’s a kind mentor to Peter, giving him good advice, and in general seems to be a genuinely good guy…

...But obviously it’s all an act. Beck is very much an egomaniacal sociopath who has no care for anyone, not even his own henchmen; he threatens them after a screwup, though it is a bit justified seeing as how they were brushing off something that would blow their ruse wide open. Just as Beck revels in being a hero, he too revels in his villainy, as one can see during the scene where he gleefully breaks Peter’s mind with a series of traumatizing hallucinations. While he does give some indication he wished he could just have let Peter go, his behavior indicates that unlike someone like Vulture, all of this is just him never turning off that surface-level charm he puts up. He’s absolutely not sorry he has to kill Peter, he’s gonna have fun doing it, but he has to at least put forth that token “I really wish he didn’t have to do this” as if for the sake of some unknown viewer he wants to convince of his nobility even as he tries to brutally murder high school students.

Final Fate: Beck is apparently shot by one of the drones under his command, and dies shortly after Peter manages to break through his illusions… or is he? Considering this is Mysterio we’re talking about, and considering the mid-credits scene, there is a high chance that Beck faked his own death and used one last illusion to escape from under Spidey’s nose. But for now, we can only assume he’s dead. I’m definitely updating this if he comes back, trust me on that.

Best Scene: The scene in Berlin where Beck subjects Peter to a series of illusions that look like something ripped straight out of a comic book, or even a Scarecrow sequence from Arkham Asylum. It’s filled with utterly nightmarish imagery, tons of fakeouts, lots of references to the Spider-Man mythos, and even a few allusions to Mysterio’s video game appearances. In a film where Mysterio has no end of fine moments, this is easily his finest.

Best Quote: Beck has so many great lines that really ring with truth nowadays about people and their desire to believe even the most blatant of lies just so they can have something to believe in. But his greatest quote is perhaps when he weaponises that, with a little bit of edited footage he sends to a seedy, sensationalist news site called The Daily Bugle…

“I managed to send the Elemental back into the dimensional rift but I don't think I'm gonna make it off this bridge alive. Spider-Man attacked me for some reason. He has an army of weaponized drones, Stark technology. He's saying he's the only one who's gonna be the new Iron Man, no one else. Spider-Man's real... Spider-Man's real name is - Spider-Man's name is Peter Parker!”

And with this doctored footage, broadcast live on the news for all to see, Mysterio cements himself as one of the most absolutely scummy pricks in the entirety of the MCU, second only to Ego in sociopathic kick-the-dog cruelty.

Final Thoughts & Score: I just want you all to know that Mysterio is my absolute favorite comic book villain; I love his costume, his concept, that time he fought Daredevil, his gimmick… Mysterio is a villain who is a lot of fun but who rarely is handled well by comic writers, never getting to truly show off the full extent of his greatness. As you can imagine, this meant my expectations going into Far From Home were pretty high… and they were blown out of the water. Mysterio is just that good.

It helps that the MCU really managed to utilize the sort of paranoia and distorting of the truth a guy like Mysterio can bring to the table to its fullest extent. It’s to the point where, yeah, it’s easy to believe that he survived his supposed death; he’s shown us so many other moments where it has seem The day is saved prior that turned out to be BS, why should this be any different? Then there’s the fact that Gyllenhaal is able to fully sell this super-cliched bargain bin hero fantasy involving dimensional travel and world-ending elemental monsters, complete with wooden acting, cliché one liners, and an oh-so-obviously manufactured heroic sacrifice and make it cool in universe and out, that it all goes above and beyond to not only wash the bad taste of him being another villain Tony created out of your mouth, but also the sheer clunkiness of his expository bar scene where he literally explains everyone's role in the Mysterio ruse for the benefit of the audience and seemingly no one else in what might be one of the most awkwardly done scenes I have ever scene. He is so legitimately good that he somehow manages to walk away as a 10/10 villain despite being in a scene that bad.

I think what really makes him work is how psychological he is. Obviously, he has no real powers beyond a dedicated special effects team backing him up, and yet he still manages to be a serious obstacle to overcome by just how good he is at utilizing the illsuions he can create to mentally torment Spider-Man. He taunts him over Iron Man’s death, he plays on his fears of not being able to save MJ, he pretends to be trusted authority figures to trick him into endagering his loved ones... he just goes all out and really delivers a different kind of villain, one who poses a far more intriguing threat than simply a physical one and forces Peter to grow as a person and come to terms with himself in order to beat him.

When I compared him to Syndrome earlier, it really was more than just in terms of his plan; he’s equal to Syndrome in terms of quality as well, and portrayed by an actor who is able to inject just as much charm and personality into the role. And much like Syndrome, by the end of the movie you will think Quentin Beck is one of the must insufferably smug, sociopathic, and scummy villains you will ever love to hate. He outed a child’s secret identity to the world out of spite, for Christ’s sake! That really is up there with “I put a tumor in your mom’s brain” in terms of deliciously hateable dickishness in the MCU, in my opinion.

He may not be the most complex villain out there, and his backstory is a bit played out  (which is funny, considering the cliche hero story with destroyed worlds and dead families his team constructs ends up being more original in comparison), but what he lacks in depth he makes up for in charm, charisma, brilliant acting, and just delicious evilness. I seriously hope he comes back, because if any villain deserves more of a thrashing from a hero they fought, it’s this guy.

[houseki-no-suffering]

summary: Cinnaphos iwanttobelieve, 1960s AU, slow burn. Unhurried burn. We stopped for a ten-minute break and now it’s been 5 years burn. but hey, i can see a spark? a tiny little spark??

hello fellow deceased rock enthusiasts. ‘tis i, your friendly local ghost, here to deliver... FLUFF! 

okay, not quite but kinda. cute things. nice things. pretty things. take this, chapter 77  so, thanks @lapishead​ for betaeing this and enjoy!

After Diamond left, Phos excused themselves as well, saving Cinnabar from the awkwardness of being the one to end the conversation. If it were up to them, they’d probably never leave that table continuing to ruminate on possible questions to ask Phos-─ half waiting to muster enough courage to mumble them out loud and half-expecting Phos to read Cinnabar’s thoughts and answer them by themselves.

Cinnabar’s mind moved back and forth over the following days, relentlessly, in an effort to remember exact words and gestures, recall inflections and posture of a subtlety that they might have missed. Their mind supplied unhelpful distortions where it could find no evidence, until Cinnabar’s social performance had become a miserable, offensive attempt.

Their words had been too strong or not strong at all, harsh when they should have been soft, weak where they should have been asserting. Did they look at Phos too much or too little? Did they show the correct amount of empathy? Had they been sufficiently sorry, but still resentful enough to show Phos that they had not been forgiven simply because Antarcticite passed away? And what did Dia get out of Cinnabar’s conversation with Phos? What did they think, what could they infer? What did Cinnabar want Diamond to infer?

Thousands of small, insignificant thoughts gnawed each at Cinnabar’s self with tiny, unpainful bites. And yet, the sum of all of those bites was eating away Cinnabar’s resolution from the inside, tearing apart the handful of certainties that Cinnabar had left. They had spent five years trying to hate both Phos and Antarcticite, and it had all been for nothing. It made Cinnabar feel like the most pathetic of assholes.

Was it okay to hope that Phos would open up about Antarc and about their past with Cinnabar? Or would this make Cinnabar a pushover? Or a fake friend who was only curious about the mystery that surrounded Phos? They wished they could help, even after everything, but they didn’t know if it was their place to.

Following their thread of thoughts, Cinnabar had almost reached the gate of the institute. A small crowd of family and acquaintances was gathered in front of the building, all people that Euclase had skillfully assembled to help in the preparations for Bort’s party. Cinnabar noticed that most of them had come with bags and groceries, which only added the anxiety of being empty-handed to Cinnabar’s trail of worries.

A few heads nodded as they spotted Cinnabar approaching, waving them good-morning. Cinnabar held their attention only until they recognized Diamond’s face, next to Jade, then they cast their gaze to the ground and made their way toward them quickly, holding their breath as they skirted through the crowd.  

“Is it true? Phos is really coming?” Jade greeted them. Diamond could easily have answered their question and Cinnabar kept wondering why other people thought of Cinnabar as the number one Phos-facts’ source. They brushed a lock of hair behind their ear, avoiding Jade’s eyes.

“Mhm,” they nodded, reminding themselves to unclench their jaw.

“Wow. It’s been... wow, it’s been so long.”

“Isn’t it great?” Diamond’s enthusiasm still gave no signs of wavering.

“Ugh, to be honest they made such a mess last time. My back still hurts remembering all the tables I had to clean up.”

“I’m pretty sure we all helped,” Euclase joined the conversation, resting their hand on Jade’s shoulder. They were wearing a floral shawl wrapped around their head, holding their thick, distinctive bunch of keys in their other hand. They graced Cinnabar and Diamond with a smile and greeted everyone else with pride.

As Euclase walked to the gate and opened it with the confidence that comes from habit, Cinnabar felt as if their body was shrinking under the weight of everyone’s gazes and expectations.

The institute was calling them back, with its comfortable, prepacked routines. A trail of identical days and experiences still tied tightly around Cinnabar’s wrists like old ropes. Too soft to be a chain, they were like lax, comfortable shackles, made so that it would be easy to shake them off, then feel guilty about leaving them behind.

As Cinnabar crossed the rusted threshold to the small courtyard, they could feel the gaze of the dormitories looming over them. A three-story building with tidy, squared windows and severe walls of grey-blue plaster. With each step, Cinnabar was walking deeper in a limbo of memories, in a house that used to be home and that was urging them back with fond resentment. It reminded Cinnabar that they had no place to be here today. They had left, much like Phos, but the institute could welcome them back mercifully, Cinnabar only needed bow their head low enough.

The bushes of sleeping hydrangea, the dull, tiled path to the gym, the soft chitchat of other people, intermingled with Euclase’s crystalline laugh, were a foggy, distant echo of regrets. Cinnabar noticed that they had been twisting and scratching their fingers only when they felt Diamond’s hand on their shoulder, a warm presence that the institute’s aura would quickly swallow.

“Let’s go to the gym,” Diamond offered and Cinnabar nodded out of reflex.

As they ran their eyes around, they noticed that half of the people had already disappeared; Euclase had probably recruited them for kitchen duty.    

The largest room in the complex, the gym had long since been consecrated the chosen location for parties and gatherings. It was among the oldest buildings in town, a remnant of the Regime, and the only part of the institute that Sensei didn’t build. Its high ceilings were decorated with ancient flakes of dust and spider webs, weaved when the war broke out, when the place had been converted in a temporary refuge for the wounded.

Fragments of that austerity clung to the thick walls of the gym, like in the way the room would always be cold, even when bursting with activity. This was the case now, as Cinnabar could hear voices and directions bouncing off the walls of the gym in echoes that reverberated through the entire institute. Even if the spider webs had long been accepted as integral part of the building, it didn’t mean that the floor and windows weren’t in need of cleaning.

Yet, most of the noise was coming from the metallic choir of chairs and tables being picked up and arranged in symmetric compositions. Sphene was in charge of directing this loud orchestra while Jade, sleeved rolled up and hair tied in a ponytail, took on themselves most of the heavy job, lifting and moving around pieces of furniture as Sphene saw fit.

As the chilly humidity of the gym clung to Cinnabar’s coat, they realized that they had been hanging around like a misplaced piece of furniture, out of synch with the frantic rhythm of the people around them. It was all too familiar.

Diamond took hold of Cinnabar’s arm just as the umpteenth existential crisis climbed its way up Cinnabar’s consciousness.

“Geez, look at the mess those tiles are. Will you help me fetch a broom and a rag? How can Sphene hope to arrange the tables like this? Did they even clean them? I’d never place a cake on top of them, no no, Bort’s gonna hate it.”

Mixing complaints with detailed plans about the party and how they were going to help, Diamond dragged a dazed Cinnabar down the high-ceilinged corridors of the dormitories, the echoes of their shoes on the tiled floor getting lost in the cacophony of voices and activities. Cinnabar was wracking their mind to come up with something they could help with. Something quiet and that wouldn’t be physically demanding and that they could preferably do alone and unsupervised.

Dia was already offering a terrified Cinnabar a broom when, out of desperation, Cinnabar thought of telling them they’d help Red Beryl with the decorations. No amount of glue and glitter in their hair would be worse than have everyone judge them creeping their way back into the group. Or be forced to clean. Yet, Euclase’s voice cut them off their plans.

“Shinsha, can you help us with the potatoes?”

“Wha-“

“Aw, looks like someone needs you more than me,” Dia complained, “I’m gonna go ask Benito, I think I saw them around. See you, dear,” and, waving a goodbye, Diamond ran back to the gym, leaving their friend to drag their way into the kitchen.

The clanging of pots and pans filled the room, just like the smell of tomatoes and onions would do in a couple of hours. The first wafts of warm air were raising from the old stove in wood-scented, invisible spirals, a welcomed change from the cold of the gym.

With small steps, Cinnabar walked into the kitchen, careful not to cross anyone’s gaze, and waited for Euclase to notice their presence. At least they would give Cinnabar’s hands something else to do than twisting and scratching.

“Hey,” and of course the first person to notice Cinnabar would be Phosphophyllite.

They were carrying a huge pot in their arms, shoulders curved under the weight, and if Cinnabar had not been so uselessly surprised, they’d offer some help.

“Oh, Shinsha, here you are,” Euclase finally made their appearance. They put their hand on Phos’ shoulder, in a possessive gesture that the height difference between them made funny. “Hope you’re doing well, dear. We really need a couple more hands to peel and cut the potatoes, Phos is already taking care of the sweets, aren’t you dear?”

“Well, I, uh, I haven’t done anything yet.”

Euclase chuckled.

“Then let’s get to work. I’ll bring you the knives.”

Cinnabar went to pick up a box of potatoes, their eyes following Phos as the younger one put down the pot and began to gather the ingredients to make a dough.

Euclase had turned on the radio and they were humming a soft tune as they worked and Zircon and Morga had joined them. Cinnabar still felt like an off-key chord, so they kept their mouth shut, but they nonetheless dragged the potatoes to the same table Phos was working at. As they sat down, they noticed that Euclase had placed the knives exactly there, as if they had known.

Phos was eerily silent. They weren’t singing, they weren’t focusing on anything else that wasn’t the dough, their eyes forcefully cast downwards, as if the whole kitchen could catch on fire if they barely crossed Cinnabar’s gaze.

Phos’ arms were still clothed and now they were white up to their elbow, sticky pieces of dough and egg dangling from the fabric of their shirt. Yet, as nervous as they looked, Phos’ hands were stirring the mixture with energetic confidence, in smooth, precise motions. It was hypnotic almost, completely different from the way Phos used to be and from the way Cinnabar still was, Cinnabar realized eyeing the potato they had been torturing for five minutes.

“You’re good,” they mumbled, more out of fairness than to break the ice.

Phos looked struck.

“Oh, thanks. It’s nothing, really.”

“When did you learn?”

Phos shrugged.

“Practice, I guess.”

“Oh.”

“It’s just relaxing.”

Phos’ cheeks dimpled in a soft smile, which Cinnabar mimicked. Somehow, the silence that followed wasn’t as heavy as usual.

An hour and no more than two potatoes later, the first batch of cookies was done and Cinnabar, despite the high levels of social activity, was still alive.

The kitchen’s air had become a bizarre concoction of sweet and sour smells that spanned from the tomato sauce still on the stove to the umpteenth jam tart.

Cinnabar wasn’t sure they liked the smell, they thought as they munched on a milk cookie, but it was warm and not unpleasant. They even smiled in Zircon’s general direction as a sign of appreciation, portioning the sweet in impossibly small bites just to keep their mind occupied.

Euclase on the other hand was ecstatic. They looked like they were floating rather than walking, their feet never resting on the same spot more than a couple of seconds. Like an experienced conductor, they would direct everyone’s activities until they flew together in seamless harmony.

Even when they left the kitchen to supervise those in gym, Euclase’s presence never really left the room. Maybe it was in the way the music coming from the radio still filled the bubbles of silences that arose when Nepti or little Morga had nothing more to say. Maybe it was in the way Zircon’s attitude mimicked Euc’s perfectly. Cinnabar reprimanded themselves for never noticing: Zircon would even put their hands on their hips with the same constructed gentleness of Euclase.

Small talk soon filled the room with its unobtrusive presence. Like Cinnabar had expected, most of the questions and the comments were directed at Phos and Phos dodged them all with artistry. Cinnabar wondered if the others knew about Antarc or how much Euclase had filled them in on Phos’ past. Judging by the number of sheepish smiles and whispered comments, everyone knew. It was the same brand of fakeness that Cinnabar had been trying to run away from.

It made Cinnabar’s heart sink, especially when they looked back at Phos and absorbed the way their hands and eyes would be focused on work, as if they didn’t care, as if other people could never reach them through the bubble that they had created for themselves. Phos must know too that they were the talk of town and somehow they had accepted it with a smile.

Rolling down the sleeves of their flowered chemise, Euclase waltzed back inside the kitchen. Their eyes gleamed with a new question for Phosphophyllite.

“Oh, dear,” they began, “I can’t begin to imagine what we’d have done today without you. You’re such a dear, you should really come by more often. Actually, why don’t we set up your room again? I’m sure everyone’ll be so happy to have you back.”

From their position right in front of Phos, Cinnabar could notice the way Phos’ hands tightened around their spoon.

“Oh, that’s so… nice, thanks. I’ll think about it.”

“Which reminds me,” Euc ventured further, coming closer, “you still haven’t told us where you’re staying.”

Cinnabar’s eyes darted to Phos’ face, along with everyone else’s. Cinnabar would lie if they didn’t admit their own curiosity, but once again Phos didn’t answer, which left Euclase to soften the edges of a heavy silence with more words.

“I’m just worried,” they said holding a hand to their chest, “are you okay? Do you need anything? Is there anything we can do for you?”

This time, Phos offered Euclase one of those soft, distant smiles Cinnabar was becoming used to.

“I’m fine,” they said.

Euclase placed their hand on top of Phos’ shoulder, like they had done a few hours ago.

“We’re here for you, okay? I just want you to know that. We’ll always be here for you.”

A chorus of soft approvals and smiles seconded Euc’s words and Cinnabar thought that Phos looked relieved for the smallest second.

Phos nodded, smiling with more conviction than before.

“Thanks, guys,” they said.

One potato at a time, everyone retired. Some went back to their rooms in the dorms, others went back home or just around town, to spend some more time together. Only Euclase, Jade and Diamond lingered to tidy up. When Phos insisted to help, they shushed them off and shoved them out of the building in a chorus of polite pleasantries.

Cinnabar had no idea why they had waited until Phos was leaving to come back home. Sometime between Dia’s cleaning frenzy and Euc’s speech, they must have elected Phos as their designated buddy to cling onto.

The sky had darkened to a gloomy blue and the air was chilly. It pricked at Cinnabar’s nose like mint, humid and fresh like the season that had just begun. Cinnabar breathed in deeply, reveling in the fact that they were still alive, that their clothes would smell of onion for days, and that it was okay. To their surprise, they realized that they weren’t in a bad mood.

Phos was shoving their hands inside their coat with affected emphasis, as if noticing just now that Cinnabar and them were alone together. They had the eyes of a lost puppy, which was relatable, and they followed Cinnabar in silence as they made their way past the gate with slow, quiet steps.

The first stars were peeping through a soft curtain of clouds and the metal of the gate was a comfortable presence behind Cinnabar’s back. It was like the institute had spit them out, refusing them but also letting them go, free to live as they pleased.

Phos’ goodbye interrupted their train of thoughts.

“Thanks for coming,” Phos said, “I’m sorry I made you but it was… nice. I mean, I had fun and I hope you didn’t hate it and you’re not too angry with me.”

“’twas okay,” Cinnabar mumbled.

Phos raised their shoulders sheepishly.

“That’s good then, I’m happy,” they smiled. “I should be going, I’ll leave you be.”

Cinnabar looked at them, then at the pebbles that crowded the sidewalk behind Phos and that had suddenly acquired incredibly interesting shapes and colors. Rather than exhausted, Cinnabar found out that the day had made them braver. They shoved their hands inside their pockets, tightening their fists.

“Walk me home?” they said.

[sonderlivra]

Eremika White Day - Day 3: Non-traditional/Free

In which Eren finds out that brides crave burgers, among other things.

~2200 words, Modern AU, rated T for tiny bits of swearing

Read on Ao3

By the time Eren walks into the burger place, he's bone tired. The day had been longer than any he'd ever lived in the recent past, and the smell of fried foods and ketchup had almost physically swerved him into the kitschy little place. He hadn't eaten all day.

But the moment he steps inside, he freezes in surprise. Sitting at one of the little tables is a vision in white. She is wearing a beautiful flowy white gown, with accents of lace at her throat and shoulders. A pink satin ribbon is twined around her waist, and little pink flowers curve up the sides of either ear, crowning her silky black head with a translucent veil that flutters just past her shoulders. She is so gorgeous it feels like the wind is knocked out of his chest.

He is walking towards her before he can even think about doing it.

“Hey, are you -uh, are you alright?”

She is in the middle of peeling off lace gloves when she looks up at him. Her eyes are steel grey and mesmerising.

“Do I look alright?” She asks him, and she sounds tired, numb, exactly how Eren feels.

He shakes his head and gestures at the chair opposite her. “Can I-?”

She looks him up and down for a moment before shrugging. Eren sits down slowly, feeling as if making sudden moves would spook her. A thin, bored server brings him the menu and he orders the first burger on the list, along with fries and a coke. And all through this the bride doesn’t even look at him, instead staring at the discarded gloves that she is still holding onto.

The server moves away, and silence remains at their table. Eren flounders for several minutes, wondering what to say, where to begin.

“Okay, so, I’m Eren,” he says finally, wearing his most winning smile. “Nice to meet you.”

She flashes him a glance as if she is measuring him up again. “Mikasa,” she says finally, and Eren mentally pats himself on the back.

“Bad day?” He asks her, and she startles him by scoffing a laugh. “What do you think?” She gestures aggressively at her outfit.

“Hey, I don’t wanna make assumptions,” Eren says quickly. “You could be a fashion model or something, for all I know.”

That earns him a snort. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”

Eren grins, leaning forward. “Does that surprise you?”

“Are you flirting with me?” She demands, and he backtracks immediately. “Sorry. Bad timing.”

She simply grunts and goes back to tracing the lace pattern on her gloves. Their food arrives in another minute, and they both dig in wordlessly. She practically inhales her burger and is lingering over her fries, when Eren musters enough courage to try again.

“So… you wanna talk about it?”

She looks up at him, blank and dead-eyed. “Why would I talk about it to a stranger?”

Ouch.

“Fair point,” Eren concedes, waving a fry in the air. “Except that I’ll be listening from an objective point of view.”

She raises her eyebrow as if she finds the idea incredulous. But, to his surprise, she pops her fry into her mouth and shrugs. “Fine. As you can see, I snuck out of my wedding.”

“Because…?” Eren prods her.

“I’m…” She looks down and her voice sounds so forlorn Eren has to force himself to stay in his seat. “I’m not sure anymore.”

Then he tries to make sense of her words. “Not sure about-?”

“Why I ran.”

He stares at her. She twirls a long fry idly in a pool of ketchup. “It’s not really too late.” She glances up at a wall clock. “I should be saying my vows right now, but I could still go back. It’ll only be a little delayed.”

“Then why don’t you?” He asks her gently.

The fry drops onto the plate. “I don’t know,” she says in a small voice.

The desire to step up and hold her is strong again, and Eren says thickly, “Is it because you don’t love him-”

“I thought we both wanted this,” she interrupts him, talking quickly all of a sudden. “I thought we were ready. We were talking about this for so long. We were so excited. And-” She sends him a despairing glance that goes straight to his heart. “And h-he seemed to want this, too. We planned everything the way I wanted​ it. He let me pick out the colour scheme and the cake and the guest list, and-” She looks down at her hands again. “It was perfect. I thought it was perfect.”

She is silent again, and Eren has to force himself to say, “But…?”

“It… hit me when I put this on.” She touches her veil glumly. “That it’s my wedding day. And -and of all things, the colour scheme of my own wedding is pink!”

Her voice breaks at the last word, and Eren can't think of anything to say other than, “You don't want it to be pink?”

“No!” She cries, and to his horror, he can see tears gathering at the edges of her perfectly lined eyes. “I don't! I don't even like it that much! My favourite colour is green, his is red! And my wedding is pink!”

“It's… it's not a bad colour,” Eren murmurs, confused, and she nods emphatically. “Exactly! It's a pretty colour!”

“So then-”

“It's not my colour. It's not important to me in any way! This entire wedding belongs on the pages​ of a magazine and nothing about it is mine. Not the food, not the music, not even my vows-”

“Then why did you plan it this way?”

“Because -because I wanted it to be perfect.” The tears finally make it past her long lashes, and Eren clenches his hands into fists to keep from leaning forward and wiping them away. “I -I wanted it to be a perfect wedding for him, and I,” her breath hitches, “I never wanted any of this. I don't…” She ducks her head in shame. “I don't even want to get married.”

Eren's eyes widen. “Oh,” is all he can say.

Mikasa sniffs, her head in her hands. “I -I thought I did, but it's just what everyone else wanted for us, for me. I still think we’re too young, I still don’t like it… but I just wanted to do the right thing, the perfect thing, and -and I'm a coward because I couldn't even go through with it-”

“Hey, you're not a coward-”

“You're a total stranger,” she snaps, looking up at him. “How would you know?”

Eren ignores her words and asks instead, “Why didn't you say anything?”

“I just told you I'm a coward, didn't I?” Her voice is gruff.

“That's not even remotely an excuse,” he points out. She simply shrugs, wiping her face, and Eren is glad that she has at least stopped crying.

They are quiet for a few moments before Eren asks her again, his voice softer, “Why didn't you say anything?”

“Would you have understood?” It almost sounds like a challenge, and Eren blurts, defensive, “I would have!”

She simply looks down at her plate again, and he repeats, “I would have.”

They are silent again, this time for so long the server apparently thinks it safe enough to come over and clear their table. Mikasa picks up a large handbag from the floor that he missed seeing, but he flips out his wallet before she could even open it.

“My treat,” he says quietly, and while she looks like she wants to protest, she relents after a moment with a quieter “Thank you.”

She waits while he pays, and they climb up the exit stairs together. When they finally step outside, they linger at the entrance.

“So what now?” Eren asks her carefully.

She swallows. “Everyone probably hates me now, so… change my name and move to Florida, I guess.”

“Funny,” Eren comments. “I thought that was our contingency plan? Together?”

Mikasa is avoiding looking at him. For the first time since he found her sitting at that little table, he feels a thrill of fear and despair.

“You -you still want to be with me, right?”

She finally looks at him, eyes wide and sad. “Do you?”

A whole day of not touching her has taken a toll on him and he grabs her hand. “Of course I do.” He strokes her lace-covered knuckles with his thumb. “Why wouldn't I?”

“I -I thought you'd hate me…” Her voice is hushed and Eren is forcibly reminded of the first time they'd met -years and years ago in kindergarten, when he had first befriended a shy, sensitive little girl.

“Mikasa, nothing would make me hate you,” he tells her seriously, taking hold of her other hand. “Well, except one thing, but I've already told you what that is.”

She snorts, and Eren feels a sudden jolt of joy. “Beating you at Mario Kart,” she mutters.

“Beating me at Mario Kart,” he confirms, and pulls her into his arms, sighing with relief when she moves without protest and leans her head on his shoulder. “Actually, you know what, that's not true anymore,” Eren murmurs, stroking the soft chiffon back of her gown. “You can kick my ass at Mario Kart as many times as you want and I still won’t hate you.”

He can hear the smile in her voice. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’s true love, baby,” Eren grins, laughing softly when her arms tighten around his waist.

A sudden buzzing from his pocket interrupts them, and they break apart as Eren fishes for his phone, his other hand still holding one of Mikasa’s. Armin is calling, and he turns the screen to her, frowning when her smile dims.

“What will you tell him?” She asks him, looking worried once more.

“Whatever you want.”

Mikasa bites her lower lip anxiously. “I-”

“Okay, look, Mikasa, we really don’t have to get married today, not if you don’t want to.” He lets go of her hand and strokes her white cheek instead. “We can just go and have a nice, fancy party with all our friends and family, hmm?”

“They came to see a wedding,” she says, still frowning.

“They came for a party, and we can give them a hell of a celebration, with or without a ceremony.” He smiles encouragingly at her. “What do you say?”

She still looks unconvinced, and he feels a split second of panic wondering what to do. But then- Eren has always been termed ‘oblivious’ at best and ‘fucking dumbass’ at worst by his friends -but now, for once, for once, a brilliant stroke of inspiration hits him.

“Besides,” he says casually, fishing in his pocket, “there’s something else we could celebrate today.” Mikasa only raises an inquisitive eyebrow, and Eren finally finds it. He offers his palm towards her, and sitting on it is a single, silver-wrapped, heart-shaped milk chocolate.

“Happy White Day,” he smiles.

Mikasa gasps audibly. “You -you remembered?” Her breath hitches and her voice goes higher. “You keep forgetting birthdays and you remembered White Day?”

Eren shrugs, still smiling.

“You-” She looks completely stunned out of words, and suddenly, she is back in his arms, her breath fanning his neck, her strong embrace forcing an “Oof!” out of him.

“Eren, god, I love you.”

He feels laughter bubbling up and feels her smile on his skin when his chest trembles with it. “Idiot,” she murmurs fondly, and he laughs out loud.

“So we’re doing this?”

Mikasa leans away, and looks up at his face. He feels another jolt of love and admiration: she is so goddamn gorgeous.

“Yeah,” she grins shyly. “Let’s go have the biggest White Day party anyone has ever seen.”

“Hell yeah.” Eren kisses her forehead and gives her his fist, which she bumps with a giggle. “Let’s do this!”

He explains everything to Armin quickly, who seems completely unfazed by the change of plans, and actually sounds excited. Eren hangs up, thinking privately that he couldn’t have asked for a better best man, when a cool spring breeze blows down the street and Mikasa shivers reflexively. Without even thinking about it, he shucks off his tuxedo jacket and drapes it over her shoulders. Then he realises she is staring at him, and he asks her, “What?”

“You look so lovely,” she says almost wistfully. “Are you sure you don’t want to…”

“Hey,” he interrupts her gently. “I told you, I can wait. Today is not the day I become Mr. Ackerman, and that’s okay.”

She lets out a low, amused huff. “How long will you wait, though…”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he reaches into the inner jacket pocket next to her hip and pulls out a familiar old, ratty red scarf. Mikasa gasps softly, wide-eyed and speechless as he wraps it around her neck.

“Forever and ever,” Eren murmurs, leaning in until their foreheads are touching. “As long as you like.” And Mikasa presses her smile onto his.

(This is the closest to Mikasa I could make in this Wedding Dress Dollmaker at azaleadolls.com. The doll’s customisations are mine, but full credit for the lovely art and features goes to the amazing Azalea!)

A/N: Full disclosure, I had this written in full, with a vague idea of inspiration from Day 2′s prompt ‘Sneaking Out’, before I even knew what White Day was. So I had to edit and quickly add the bit about White Day to fit the theme. :) Hopefully it doesn’t seem too choppy!

My HC for this AU is that Eren and Mikasa sometimes pretend to be strangers to deal with issues, since they’re both very sensitive, impulsive people and it helps taking a step back and looking at things with a different perspective.

Hope you liked it, and thanks for reading! <3

[theoreticallyawriter]

Chapter 12: Tracks

Read on Ao3

A week later is our field trip to the fence. We’re all wiped from training; this whole five days straight of sparring is really kicking our collective asses. Even Edward is covered in bruises. Thankfully, the week passed without some sort of terrible and nearly fatal incident. Not to say that there haven’t been injuries, we’re literally beating each other into unconsciousness, of course there are going to be injuries. However, no one has been hung over the Chasm and Tris hasn’t had to fight Peter again. Surprisingly enough, I haven’t had to fight Peter either; though I’m sure I will soon. I’ve been trying to go in early most days and sometimes even after hours, though I don’t do that second part very often at all because I do want to still be able to hang out to my friends. Though we’re never especially energetic after training, we have tried to enjoy ourselves in the Pit and try to act like the Dauntless that we’re trying to become. I must say, I’m still not entirely used to just the general atmosphere of it all; it’s so different than everything I’ve ever known, but I guess that’s just Dauntless in general.

We don’t have to be at the tracks until eight-fifteen, but most of us wake up at six anyways because that’s what we’ve gotten used to, with the exception of Tris. She’s still recovering from her fight with Peter on top of the constant grind of day to day training. She’s not doing so hot in her fights, mostly because she’s constantly sore and has absolutely no time to recover. We’re all pretty banged up, but Tris has been taking a beating pretty much since we started sparring. Almost everyone but her has managed to eke out at least one win. I don’t really think that it’s something that any of us really like, except for maybe Peter, I’m just not sure if I’ll ever really get used to the idea of striking my friends and future faction members who are supposed to be like a family to me, who are supposed to replace my actual family, and for what? What is the point of having us fight until we’re passed out on the mat? It’s not fun for anyone really; I mean, I guess that Eric and Four might think that it’s fun to watch, but it’s not like anyone’s really benefiting from this. I guess in theory the pressure of it all is just supposed to force a change in us that will make us dedicated to learning the techniques so that we aren’t constantly winding up in the infirmary, but I think the exact same pressure comes with the constant knowledge that people are going to be cut. It’s nerve wracking, knowing that I might lose out on my spot in Dauntless at the end of these first five weeks because I couldn’t win enough fights. Erudite cuts people too, but the challenges were never physical and none of that even happened until the end. I’m not even sure how we’re being scored so that I can adjust my habits to accommodate that to rack up the maximum amount of points possible to make up for my slightly subpar fighting skills.

And there’s the Erudite in me, I think. Good to know that’s still around. Not. Better make sure that nothing close to that ever comes out of my mouth.

The most terrifying part of being…that is that I don’t recognize how weird some of my thinking is until after I’ve thought it; which I find concerning to say the very least. At least when I mouth off it’s with people that I know aren’t all that important. Four’s my initiation instructor, but for all of his faults I seriously doubt that he’s going to fail me because he finds me to be mildly irritating. Eric though, I really try to stay out of his way as much as I can and when I can’t I’m polite as humanly possible. After what he did to Christina for something as benign and understandable as forfeiting a fight she couldn’t win, I don’t want to imagine how he might react if I spoke to him the way that I speak to Four. He laughed when Four mentioned I was one of his ‘problem students’ but I don’t ever want him to see for himself that I am. I am even wary about talking back to Four within an earshot of him, Four may not like Eric but I honest to god have no idea what Eric’s relationship to Four is and I don’t want to get myself in trouble with Eric by insulting Four.

Christina, Molly, Myra, and I all get ready in mostly silence. We don’t talk to Molly much, Christina especially ever since the incident, but it’s not like she makes any effort to befriend us either. I’ve already decided that I dislike Molly based on what she did to Christina and the fact that she associates with Peter, but I see no reason to be openly mean to her until the opportunity presents itself. I’m sure that she already knows I don’t like her, as the Candor are pretty in tune with other people’s emotions despite how tone deaf most of them act, and I’m sure that she’s no fonder of me, I would rather that we go on silently hating each other rather than loudly. My hateful relationship with Peter (and basically most everyone’s hateful relationship with Peter, because I know for a fact that Edward and Myra think he’s an asshole too and the other initiates tend to avoid him whenever possible) is enough tension for the dorm room, I really don’t think that his friends also need to get involved.

Today is the first day that I can wear makeup again and actually bother with my hair, because I won’t sweat it all off or get punched in the face for the first time in two weeks. Though I know that this isn’t technically a break, and I’m sure that Four will find a way to suck any traces of fun out of it, I’m still excited; it’s still the first time that I’ve left the Dauntless compound as a Dauntless (well, Dauntless-in-training) and the first time I’ve had the full sun shine on my face in two and a half weeks. There are skylights in some of the public areas like the bridge over the Chasm and the Pit, but that’s not really the same.

But as I’m getting ready, a thought occurs to me. Today is Jeanine’s birthday, and this is really the first time that I haven’t been around for that. Like I said, she’s kind of part of our family; we care about that sort of thing and every year without fail my parents do a dinner thing for her that takes hours to prepare and days to plan, but they still do it. I used to help frost the cake, because that was really the one thing that I was good at, and a few days in advance my mom or my dad and I would go out shopping for gifts. I miss her; I miss being around my family. I don’t even have my phone to send her a quick text because I left that at home and I’m sure that even if I wanted to, it would probably be frowned upon because ‘faction before blood’. It’s still bullshit, I mean I can sort of appreciate wanting people to form a bone-sunk loyalty to their factions but I don’t think that has to come at the expense of your family. I know better than anyone that freedom and family don’t cancel each other out; I’ve seen it happen with Mark and Minerva and now I’m experiencing it myself. They’re still my siblings, they’re still my parents’ children, I still love them and they still love me. We see each other every year on Visiting Day even though that’s only supposed to be a one or two time thing. It’s not like other families don’t do it; I know very specifically of a few of my parents’ friends’ children who, rather than their parents going out to see them on Visiting Day, they go back to Erudite. Despite what some would have us believe, continuing to love your family after the Choosing Ceremony is not quite the taboo that some people make it out to be. I wish that I could impress this on Al, who still sometimes cries at night. I feel so awful for him, but I know that he doesn’t want us to comfort him. He’s acknowledged that we can hear him, but I’m sure that he finds it at least mildly embarrassing. I really don’t want to meddle in his personal life like that. Close as we’re becoming, it’s not really my place.

“You go on ahead.” Christina waves me off in the direction of the dining hall when we get out into the hallway. We usually wait for each other and then Tris, Will, and Al so that we can all go to breakfast together.

Will comes out of the bathroom a minute later, seeming to have the same idea that I did with the makeup thing.

“I’m going to go check on Tris. Make sure that she’s up and whatever, it might take a while.”

“Al also said he’d catch up with us later,” Will says.

Christina disappears into the dorm and I turn to Will as we start walking. “And then there were two.”

“Gotta say, that eyeshadow really brings out the yellow in the bruise on your jaw,” Will says, gesturing to my face.

“You’re funny,” I say in a deadpan voice. “I really like how your poorly done concealer almost manages to cover up your black eye.”

Will chuckles. “Yeah, I know. If you think that you can do better, be my guest. I would seriously appreciate it.” I roll my eyes but don’t respond, mostly because I probably couldn’t do better.

He gives me a proud smirk like he’s won something. I guess in a way he has; my silence. As mean as Will and I pretend to be to each other, we really do get along exceptionally well. We kind of just click, like how I do with the others but also in a way that I don’t feel like I ever have to explain anything to him because he just gets it. We have exactly the same sense of humor, that deadpan bite that Christina took to pretty quickly but Al and Tris understand but don’t really participate in. They’re too sweet for the teasing insults, and in turn I try to avoid insulting them because I remember when Tris and I were just getting to know each other (though in a lot of ways we still are) and she thought I was serious about her not knowing anything and that it was some sort of dig at her, and how it seemed to genuinely upset her. I don’t want to do that again; Tris is my friend and I can understand how that sort of humor wouldn’t translate with people who have never encountered it before.

But Will and I just kind of feed off of each other’s energy, and yeah sometimes we sort of slip off into our own conversation totally separate from the group because we share experiences just like Christina and Al do. It’s just another example of how our birth factions never really leave us, and how we can’t just be expected to let go of it all the moment we transfer out. There are aspects of my life and parts of me that exist specifically because I was Erudite and Will, Edward, Myra, and the other Erudite transfers too I guess – though I’ve never really bothered to talk to any of them – can understand that in a way that the others can’t. Nothing against them, of course, they have their own unique and shared experiences specific to Candor, Amity, and Abnegation respectively that I could never hope to gain a full grasp on.

Will nods. “That’s one of the things I love about you, I never have to explain that I’m joking. Mostly because you’re a lot meaner to me than I am to you.”

I roll my eyes. “What a convoluted way of admitting that I’m smarter than you.”

“In your very egotistical dreams.” He gives me a light shove.

“Ooh, ‘egotistical’. Wow, you used a big word.” I laugh and shove him back.

“Oh, shut up.” He snickers. “We can’t all be walking dictionaries; and you, dear friend of mine, are not even close to the,” he clears his throat and starts talking in a voice obviously meant to mimic the high society Erudite, “proper and well-spoken lady,” his voice drops back to normal, “that you think you are. We’re all Dauntless now, and if you’ve ever heard any of them speak I’m sure that you know there’s no room for anything like that here.”

“Won’t stop me from trying,” I say. “I’m not about to reduce my vocabulary to pebbles because fucking Four has never opened a book in his life.”

“You’re so goddamn mean, you know that right?” We enter the dining hall and move through the line to get our food. “Like, I know that it’s no secret but you will literally jump on the people you don’t like for everything at every opportunity.”

I shrug as I pick up a muffin. “If I see an opening than I’m going for it. It isn’t even a thing with him specifically; Peter and Eric are just as easy to make fun of, he just happened to be the first name to pop into my head while saying that particular sentence.”

“Hey, you don’t have to justify yourself to me. It’s just an observation. Better them than me, right?”

I nudge him with my shoulder. “The difference is that I actually like you.”

“Aw.” Will touches his hand to his heart, nearly splashing his coffee on his shirt. “I’m touched. I can almost see the ice around your heart starting to melt.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m already regretting that statement.”

We sit down at the table next to each other, both of us propping our feet up on the chairs across from us in near unison.

“So,” he says, “excited for our first time outside the compound as Dauntless?”

“Excited to not be breathing the same stale air anymore. I mean it’s cool I guess, but I don’t really expect to be stuck out guarding the fence at any point.”

“Oh really?” Will tips his chair back on its hind legs and takes a sip of his coffee. “Why am I not surprised? So what do you ‘expect’ to do?”

“Leadership.” I lower my voice, “I’d actually like Eric’s job if I can find a way to swing it.”

“I’m pretty sure that he would disembowel you if he heard you say that.”

“Who’s disemboweling people?” Al appears with a tray in his hands. He sits a few seats down from me.

“Eric, if Mimi keeps openly talking about the fact that she’s gunning for his job,” Will says and Al almost spits out his orange juice in response.

“Is that why you’re so nice around him?” he says after he swallows. “Because you don’t want him to know?”

“I figure that I better make a good impression now before he’s my boss. There’s plenty of time to be mean later.”

“Can’t wait to see that,” Will says. “Dude’s going to mount your head on the wall of his office.”

I shrug. “You have such little faith in me and I am, frankly, very insulted by it.”

“That’s not true.” Will takes another bite of his food and the uses his fork to gesture at me. “I think you’ll make a great leader if you somehow manage to avoid getting disemboweled and/or decapitated by the guy who’s job you want.”

“Thanks?” I shoot him a confused look over my coffee. “If that was indeed a compliment?”

Will nods. “It was.”

“Gee,” I say flatly. “Thanks.”

“You are welcome.” He grins as he takes another bite of his potatoes.

When we’re done with breakfast we head up to the train tracks. We’re early, save for the few other initiates milling around. I’m learning quickly that there’s absolutely nothing to do in the mornings at Dauntless, it’s a good thing that I’m so dedicated to training otherwise so much of my mornings would just be spent standing around doing nothing. I sit down on a crate next to the building and let a small smile spread across my face. It’s nice to be above ground again, to look up and see the bright blue sky and breathe in the fresh air. It’s cold for September, or maybe I’ve just grown used to the heated Dauntless compound.

“Where are they?” Will puts his hands on his hips and looks around. “They should have been here by now.”

“Do you think something’s wrong?” Al says. “Should we go check on them?”

“Guys, chill. I’m sure they’re fine,” I say. “Tris has been pretty messed up since her fight with Peter. I’m sure that she’s just kind of ache-y.”

Not a minute later, Tris and Christina emerge from the compound right as the train arrives.

“What took so long?” Will shouts over the noise of the train.

“Stumpy legs over here is going full old lady on us.” Christina jabs her thumb at Tris.

Tris rolls her eyes. “Oh shut up.”

We all break into a slow run together. Four jumps into one of the last cars and I suppose that we’re all meant to get in that one too. I notice him lingering almost in the doorway, catching Myra as she slips and pulling her up. It’s a step up from the last time we jumped on, I guess now that we’re all here they really don’t want us missing the train.

Behind me, I can hear Tris already breathing heavily. It’s not exactly fun for any of us, we’re all sore after two and a half weeks of training, but she very recently got the hell beaten out of her. This must be killing her.

I jump on after Will; it’s much easier this time probably because I’m not running on a platform that’s two feet wide with a hundred or so people and in high heels. Doesn’t stop Will from giving me shit about it though.

“Ay!” He claps me on the shoulder. “Look who made it on without twisting her ankle.”

“I’m going to fight you,” I say flatly.

“You already did, remember?”

“I’ll fight you again.”

Al helps Tris on, basically leans out the door and plucks her off the ground, setting her back down once she’s safely inside the train.

“How are you feeling?” I ask her.

She gives a halfhearted groan in response and gazes warily at Peter, who is giving her a very predatory grin.

“Feeling okay there?” he says while trying not to laugh. “Or are you a little…Stiff.” He howls with laughter at his own joke and then Drew and Molly join in.

“We are all awed by your incredible wit,” Will says with zero inflection to his voice whatsoever. “Truly you must be god’s gift to sass.”

“Are you sure you don’t belong in Erudite, Peter?” Christina joins in. “I hear they don’t object to sissies.”

Without thinking about it at all I say, “Oh come on, Christina, I think it’s pretty damn obvious he’s not cut out for Erudite; I mean you can count his IQ on a single hand. Erudite does have standards after all. But comedy in general…his complete joke of an existence could probably get a chuckle out of the audience.”

Peter’s upper lip curls. “Maybe if you ran like your mouth you’d be doing better in training, Ice Queen.”

“Peter, I don’t really think that you’re in any position to talk about anyone being better when you’re so disliked across the board.”

“Am I going to have to listen to you guys bicker all the way to the fence?!” Four snaps before Peter can retort.

We don’t say another word for a while but Christina laughs under her breath, only growing worse at hiding it when she notices Peter, Molly, and Drew’s glares.

Eventually, Tris breaks the silence. She turns to us and says, “What do you think is out there? Beyond the wall, I mean.”

“Wind and solar farms,” Will says. “Actual farms.”

“No but,” she makes a gesture like she’s throwing something, “way out there. Past all of that.”

Christina wiggles her fingers. “Monsters!”

“Nothing probably,” I guess. “No civilization, no life; just a whole lot of empty space.”

“But then what would we need the guards for?” Tris says. “If it’s really just a bunch of cattle, crops, and solar panels then what’s the point of having a whole team of people watching it all the time?”

“Well we didn’t even really have most of the guards out by the wall until like five years ago, remember?” Will says. “Don’t you remember when most of Dauntless police used to patrol the factionless sector?”

Tris and I both nod. The choice was left up to the Faction Council alone and I remember my mother being less than pleased with the outcome, something about it being a waste of resources or something. She’s probably right, but I don’t mention any of that now.

“Oh right,” Will says to Tris. “You probably saw the factionless all the time, right?”

“Why do you say that?” she says, suddenly defensive.

“Because you had to pass the larger part of the factionless sector to get to school, right?” As he explains, Tris seems to soften.

Christina snorts. “What did you do, memorize a map of the city for fun?”

“Of course,” Will says, his eyes flicker over to me. “Right, Mimi?”

“Oh no.” I laugh. “You’re on your own in this one, you fucking nerd.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. I forgot, you were probably swallowing entire dictionaries whole; my bad.”

“You two are both nerds.” Christina shakes her head.

Our conversation is cut short as the train comes to a stop, the breaks squealing and all of us lurching forward. Most of us manage to keep our balance, but Will, who was leaning against the wall, almost falls over and Christina tries to catch him but her smaller stature leaves her unable to right him on his feet. He caught himself with his hands behind her neck and she grins, putting her hands on his waist.

“Careful.”

“Oh,” Will dramatically closes his eyes and puts his hand to his forehead. “I’m swooning. Thank you, fair Lady Christina, for–” She lets go and he shrieks but Al catches him at the last second.

“Cool it on the theatrics maybe,” he says with a laugh as he rights Will on his feet.

“An astute point, Sir Al.”

“Shut up.”

We all get off under an awning. Out here there’s practically nothing, just a lot of field and a near forest of overgrown flora that’s been there for so long it’s little more than just another part of our environment. Ahead of us is the wall, which is even taller than the Hub. The bottom half is made of solid concrete and the top is metal and wire with gangplanks running across it. I’d imagine that the metal must have once been shiny gray and new, but five hundred years have rendered it a tired rust color. That said, it’s not anywhere close to being in disrepair. Most of the guards are around the upper part of the wall, little black dots high above us, but we’re near the gate as well where about eight surly looking Dauntless stand, all straightening as they notice us. The gate is twice the size of my house and that same rust color as the top half of the wall. I can’t imagine how it ever opens, but I know that it must every so often so that the Amity farmers and Erudite technicians can check up on the setups out there.

“Follow me,” Four says. He leads us up toward the gate, none of the guards speak as we approach; they hardly acknowledge we’re even here at all, they just stare off into space.

“If you don’t rank in the top fifteen at the end of initiation than it’s likely you will end up out here,” he says, walking backwards so that he can look at us as he talks and a not so small part of me hopes that he trips. Sue me for being a little petty. “Once you become a fence guard there are a few opportunities for advancement but not much. It’s mostly just things like going out on patrols beyond the wall or accompanying the farmers and techs that have to go out. For-”

“Wait,” Will interrupts him and Four not at all subtly rolls his eyes. “Patrols for what purpose?”

“I guess you’ll find out if this is where you wind up. As I was saying, for the most part those who guard the fence when they’re young continue to do so into the rest of their adult lives. If it comforts you, some of them insist that the job isn’t as bad as it seems; it’s steady and not all that difficult.”

“At least we won’t be driving busses or cleaning up other people’s messes like the factionless,” Christina mutters.

“Your Candor is showing,” I whisper back and she glares at me but smiles when she does.

“What rank were you?” Peter says.

I don’t expect him to give an answer, going off of the conversation I had with him my first night in Dauntless the guy seems to enjoy being cryptic and vague for no discernable reason. I’m surprised for more than one reason when he says, “I was first.”

“And you chose to do this?” Peter says incredulously. “Why didn’t you get a government job?”

Though I hate to admit it, I can actually agree with Peter on this one thing. The ways that leadership is better than training a bunch of teenage idiots are pretty obvious.

“I didn’t want one,” he says flatly.

Okay, that’s actually understandable. Politics really isn’t for everyone and I can’t possibly imagine Four doing especially well in that environment. Eric is bad enough, but the thought of Four sloughing through an ocean of paperwork and exchanging niceties with other prominent faction members, dressed to the nines and a smile plastered on his face, is almost laughable.

Me though, I would do anything to get there. I would give anything to be one of the greats and it’s why I’m so determined to do well during initiation. I can’t help but be enchanted by the idea of it all, though I haven’t got a clue what sort of version of that life Dauntless might hold for me. But more than that, I just feel like there’s something that I can offer this world. I want to help people but not as a police officer or anything, I want to make an impact that will last.

We stop up next to the gate and one of the guards gestures for us to move back. They punch in a code and activates some sort of mechanism that opens up the massive gate. Upon it rising out of the ground I can clearly see it’s thicker than I am and there’s a place where it’s worn into the ground from resting there over the centuries. Two vehicles pass through, a silver car that then immediately accelerates away from us, and a truck with an open back.

A man with a straw hat and beard gets out of the driver’s seat and begins talking to one of the guards. In the back of the truck other Amity sit on crates talking and laughing. Most of them are young, my age, maybe even this year’s initiate class. But none of them are Casey.

“Mimette?” My eldest brother, Mark, stands up and stares down at me. He jumps down from the truck bed and walks over to me. It’s been a little while since I’ve seen Mark long enough to actually speak to him. Nine years ago he left Erudite for Amity and now he’s the faction representative. He’s another part of that legacy that I just have to live up to.

“Hey, Mark.” He hugs me before I can think stop him. I’m aware that there are people watching me, and that faction before blood is kind of a big deal. But Mark is a faction representative, I don’t exactly think that anyone’s going to call him out.

“What have you been up too?” he asks when he lets go of me, but I remain in his shadow. Mark is really tall, almost a full foot taller than I am, he might be pretty intimidating if he weren’t such an easy going and positive person.

I shrug. “Initiation, uh, obviously.”

He gives my upper arm a light squeeze and I have to fight the urge to wince. “Your arms are starting to feel like Minerva’s.”

I chuckle. Minerva would have a much easier time in Dauntless than me; because she’d be pretty adept at the physical stuff, but also because she has less patience for bullshit than I do and is considerably more intimidating than I am.

“Mimette,” Mark tips his head to the side, a slightly concerned look on his face, “is everything going alright?”

I force a smile, one far more confident than the way that I feel. “Just fine.”

“Mimette?” A very, very annoying voice repeats right on my heels. “It’s that a little uppity for someone who looked like they crawled out of a ditch.”

I all but roll my eyes into the back of my head and turn around slowly to face Peter, who is smirking in a sort of way that makes me want to punch him.

“Wow,” I drawl. “’Uppity,’ how impressive, Peter. You used a big word and managed to string more than ten words together in a sentence. Keep working at it and maybe someday you’ll be off giving speeches about the meaning of life and generally enlightening mankind.”

“Mimette.” Mark puts his hands on my shoulders and smiles down at me. “Don’t.” Then he turns that smile on Peter, but it’s cold and unnatural looking. “You must be one of Mimette’s fellow initiates. I’m Mark, her older brother; and you are?”

Peter scoffs. “Suddenly need big brother to protect you?”

I move out of Mark’s grip, wishing that my cheeks didn’t flush the way that they do. “No. Don’t you have something better to do than bother me, like go kick puppies or something?”

“Now, now there’s no need to be rude.” Mark is still smiling but he looks like he could deck Peter. He takes a step closer and the shadow that he casts passes over Peter. “I don’t think that I caught your name.”

I guess that Peter finds it as unsettling as I do, because he leaves without another word.

“Mark,” calls the older man with the beard, “we’re leaving.”

Mark hugs me again quickly. “I love you, Mimette. I’ll see you on Visiting Day.”

I hug him back this time. “I love you too. If you see Casey Diarmond tell her that, uh…that I send my love.”

We part and he climbs back into the truck, where one of the younger girls begins strumming a banjo. I watch them as they drive away, and only when they’re hardly more than a blip on the horizon do I remember that I never even got the chance to mention to Mark that I changed my name.

“Who was Big Mc-Large-Huge?” Christina walks up next to me.

“My brother.” I’m still staring off into space, but out of the corner of my eye I notice Four glaring at me over Tris’ head as he talks to her. He must not have approved of the conversation, not that I actually care in any capacity.

“That’s your brother?” Christina gives me a quizzical look. We begin to walk to the train as Four waves us back.

“One of them,” I say. “I’ve got two.” As much as it shouldn’t, it feels like a bit of the weight in my chest has been lifted. It was just so nice to see Mark again, to just be reminded that no matter how far away we are our family is never really gone. Honestly it was kind of something that I needed; I still feel a little bit homesick and I do wish that I could be back in Erudite to spend time with Jeanine.

Christina looks at me, still looking a little confused. “You’re not going to get that tall, are you?”

I laugh; and for once I don’t bother to forcibly remind myself that I’m supposed to be happy here. I just laugh and let my mixed emotions stir around inside of me. I take one last look back at the fence before getting back on the train, and just like that our little day in the sun is over.

[aethelar]

Yo- what about Newt being the protective one of Theseus? I mean, everyone is drooling over the war hero and eye catcher Theseus but no one knows of stormy winter nights when he is doubling in pain over the table because cold weather stirs his old wounds, or early mornings when he is sweating bullets and screaming during nightmares, or New Year celebrations he tries to avoid because fireworks remind him of explosions too much... Except for Newt. Newt is always there, an unmovable rock, a

root in the ground, steadying Theseus amidst the storm. Newt is a ray of sunshine and smell of flowers in the dark room, he is the herbal tea and chocolate warming the body and banishing the cold, he is the soft voice guiding Theseus out of his feverish dreams. No one pays much attention to Theseus’s younger awkward brother but they don’t know that he is the one keeping Theseus alive. And when Grindelwald attacks a Ministry of Magic reception and Theseus is caught in the middle, it is Newt who stands tall and shields him from the spells, and it is Newts patronus that guides Theseus out. IDK i have lots of Theseus-Newt feels but it goes both ways- Theseus is very protective of his sunshine noodle of a brother, and Newt is very protective of PTSD-suffering Theseus.

Can I just say this is perfect and I love it. I have very little experience of PTSD so I wouldn’t know how to write Theseus to do it justice, but please consider:

Theseus’ first girlfriend was called Kate and Newt, in theory, has nothing against her. She’s a year younger than him, generally happy, smiles a lot, and Theseus is so delighted to have any relationship at all that he trips over himself to give her anything she could possibly ask for.

Newt is wary of that last part because Theseus gives pieces of himself away with never a thought for what it costs him. He gives and gives and never expects anything back and one day he’s going to run out if Newt isn’t there to watch out for him, but for now, for his first crush and his first love, Newt will allow it.

He allows it up until Theseus graduates and Kate is left at Hogwarts for one last year; he allows it until he can see Theseus stretched thin between his training and his work and Kate still expects to be front and centre in his life and have on permanent call if she needs him; he allows it until Theseus begs off drinks at the pub and stops going to quidditch matches because she doesn’t like it when I’m out without her; he allows it until Kate accuses Theseus of seeing someone else behind her back because she feels he’s never there for her when she needs him anymore despite Theseus running himself to the bone to try and keep her happy.

“Perhaps if you didn’t have four breakdowns a week about how Lizzie’s prettier than you,” Newt remarks idly, shamelessly eavesdropping on their private conversation. “I mean, it’s not like he’s got his own things to worry about that actually matter or anything.”

“Newt,” Theseus growls, “Piss the fuck off.”

Newt shrugs, still infuriatingly casual in the way that only younger brothers can be, and saunters out. “Just saying,” he says as he goes.

“Well don’t.”

She and Theseus break up three weeks later. Theseus is, outwardly, devastated - but Newt’s better at reading him than that and he can see the way Theseus settles, focuses on his studies and relaxes without the stress of a relationship gone sour.

“No need to thank me,” he says, swanning past and stealing the last bite of Theseus’ sandwich.

“Pain in the ass!” Theseus calls after him, and that’s the first one.

The second one is called Paul. He seems nice - he’s a warder, and Newt doesn’t hesitate to pick his brains for all the runic knowledge he can find. He claims to be doing it to test Paul’s patience, and Paul actually seems to hold up pretty well. He also makes a decent cup of tea which is one up on Kate, and when Theseus comes home late Paul’s already got started on dinner, so that’s excellent too.

Then Paul has the audacity, the absolute fucking audacity to get sent on assignment to Wales and fall in love with the son of a client and that’s it, his heart is getting carved out with a rusty spoon, Newt is on the war path and he knows no bounds because how dare

“Newt,” Theseus says tiredly, interrupting Newt’s progressively more high pitched rant. “It’s sweet of you, but I’m fine.”

“Shut up,” is Newt’s eloquent retort. He piles another slice of chocolate cake on Theseus’ plate and replaces his cold cup of tea with a fresh one, because broken hearts require chocolate and tea and vengeance. “If I ever see him again I’ll trample him with a hippogriff for you.”

“It’s probably a good thing then that he’s moved to Wales,” Theseus says drily. He wilts under Newt’s aggressively caring attention and dutifully eats his cake.

“Hippogriffs fly,” is Newt’s only answer. “I’m sure Mum won’t mind.”

“Newt, no.”

Newt grumbles and contents himself instead with setting the timer on the oven for the next batch of cake.

Number three is a nameless douche of a one night stand that drops Theseus the next morning, then swings round again two months later because his wife is out of town again so does Theseus want to pick up where they left off?

Theseus spirals himself into a small ball of agony about accidental adultery and Newt force feeds him hazlenut dacqouise and loudly discusses the several ways - several ways Theseus, take your pick, Newt is more than happy to do multiple if you feel like it - that he could commit murder and get away with.

“You can’t just kill my exes,” Theseus protests, but it lacks his usual conviction.

“I’m not killing your ex,” Newt says hotly. “I’m cleansing the earth of scum, that’s what I’m doing. Will you at least tell me where he lives so I can release a swarm of doxies in his bathroom?”

Theseus laughs wetly and doesn’t tell Newt, because he’s not entirely sure if his brother will go through with it or not.

Number four is called Ameena, and for a while there, for a good couple of years Theseus thinks she could be the one. She’s studying to be a lawyer and she’s quick and funny and makes Theseus laugh; she also stays up with him until three in the morning debating world problems and how they’re going to solve them when Theseus runs the auror department and she runs the legal side. She’s never less than sweetness and light to Newt and, though she and Theseus have the odd argument, she never hesitates to say sorry after and buys him a dozen red roses each time to make up.

She’s almost suspiciously perfect, in fact. Newt goes to her graduation and sits in the back with Theseus and squints at her, trying to find her flaws. It’s not until she’s moved from college to job that he spots it - and even then it’s a frustrating one, because Ameena’s flaw is that she works too hard.

“Being a lawyer is a demanding job,” Theseus points out, setting both bowls of pasta on the table.

“Yes,” Newt says, awkwardly balancing two glasses, a fistful of cutlery and a bag of grated cheese in his arms, “But so is being a girlfriend and I just think you matter too.”

Theseus rolls his eyes and rescues the cheese. “Do you want me to start whining at her that she comes home too late and doesn’t spend enough time with me? I love her, and part of that is supporting what she wants to do as much as she supports me.”

Newt carefully doesn’t point out that from where he’s standing Theseus is doing a lot more of the supporting. It’s not like being an auror is an easy job or anything.

“Besides,” Theseus adds. “If Ameena didn’t work late we wouldn’t have brother-nights so often and then what would you do with your time?”

“I have a social life!” Newt sputters. “I totally have things to do!”

Theseus raises an eyebrow and Newt makes dramatic, over the top hand gestures to illustrate how very busy and in demand he is at all points in time (lies, all of it lies) and Newt resolves to try to be nicer to Ameena, because if Theseus loves her this much then she can’t be all bad. Newt is probably just being overprotective.

When Theseus firecalls him at two in the morning it takes Newt a second try before his bleary sleep fogged mind can process.

“She left,” Theseus repeats. “She said - she said it was for the best, she said she didn’t have time for a relationship and it wasn’t fair to me, she, she said -” his voice breaks and he stops, and Newt physically pushes his head back into the fire so he can crawl through and provide emergency hug.

“Rusty spoons,” he promises darkly, patting Theseus on the back and staring murderously into space.

“Newt, no,” Theseus protests. “What if I tried harder, what if - we were talking about kids, what if I promised I didn’t want kids, maybe that’s what it was.”

Newt snorts and hugs tighter. “You so totally want kids,” he says. And Theseus should so totally have kids, because Theseus is the perfect kind of person who’s made to play tiny games of cricket and run a barbecue in socks and sandals and embarrass his family with really bad jokes. Theseus has been handling his wild younger brother all his life, he’s had two and half decades of practice at this whole parenting thing and Newt won’t let him give up his dream for someone else. He won’t.

“But -” Theseus starts and Newt holds a hand over his mouth to stop him.

“It’s the shock talking,” he declares. Theseus makes wide, heart-broken eyes at him and Newt relents. “If you still want to win her back in a week then maybe we can win her back for you but for now, you are going to sit here and I am going to make brownies and then we’re going to watch a film and eat ice cream. Understand?”

Theseus nods miserably.

“You can’t always tell me what to do, you know,” he says when Newt removes his hand.

Newt rolls his eyes at that and goes to pull out the baking pans. “I’m your younger brother,” he says. “It’s what I’m for.”

[sicklyscribe]

an AU

It was impossible to surprise anyone in this house without turning to the magical arts. Elijah must have turned on the blender as soon as she stretched herself awake five minutes ago, because there he was, pouring a strawberry-banana smoothie into a milkshake glass. He looked over his shoulder for a moment and smiled. “Happy birthday, Hope.”

Hope yawned and smiled, though the latter was a bit forced, as she sat down at the kitchen table. Elijah grabbed chocolate syrup from the fridge, drizzling it over the smoothie like it was gourmet (she was the only one she knew who drank strawberry-banana smoothies with Hershey’s syrup, but she was also the only vampire-witch-werewolf twice-over New Orleans princess she knew, so.)

“Where’s Dad?” she asked as he stabbed a straw into the drink and brought it over to her with a plate of warm beignets. 

Elijah pursed his lips, fighting some sort of revelation that could be found if he did not restrain his expression. “He’s getting your surprise.” 

His brows rose after a moment, prompting her to eat, little one. She took a bite of beignet and a sip of smoothie (he always made it with so much sugar, Hayley and Aunt Freya always scolded him) and didn’t even try to pry the surprise’s details out of him. Her uncle leaned up against the counter, sipping a giant cup of coffee. He was already in full Elijah-mode, hair coiffed and slacks pressed and tie tied, though his sleeves had been carefully rolled up while he prepared the birthday girl’s breakfast. 

He watched her with eagle eyes, and she tried to avoid the sincere concern in his gaze. Eventually he put the mug down; unrolled his sleeves, clicked the cufflinks back into place. Air chugged and sputtered through the smoothie straw in the awkward silence. He looked away from her, giving her a reprieve, she thought, except he spoke. Gently, almost a whisper. “You don’t have to go tonight if you don’t want to.”

The newly-fifteen-year-old shrugged into herself, picking at the last corner of beignet on her plate. “It’s a tradition.” She put her feet up on the chair and leaned into her knees. “It’s important to Mom.” 

Her uncle gave her a sweet, sad smile before looking back at the counter again. “You’re more important to your mother than any tradition, Hope Andrea Mikaelson.” 

She sighed. “Mikaelson. So many of them hate me, Elijah. Because of dad. And you, and... everything.” She thought about a forest a few hundred miles northeast, ten hundred years in the past, when an uncle she never met died and a grandmother that tried to kill her in the cradle cursed her children with a lust for blood. “Mom always says they don’t matter, that they’ll get used to it...” 

“She’s right.” 

“But-”

“You listen here, sweetheart, there’s no buts about it.” He looked over at her halfway through his sentence, with a steely cold adoration that could only make sense on her uncle’s face. “You will never meet other’s expectations of who you should be. Because there has never been anyone in the world like you, there has never once and never will be someone that could compare.” He cracked a wide, proud smile. “People will hate you for that, and blame it on the vampire in you. Others will blame your grandmother’s blood, others still will blame your mother’s. What is it they say now -- screw them. Every fifteen-year-old deserves a happy birthday, especially when that fifteen-year-old is my niece.” 

He had walked over to the table as he spoke, and she could smell his sharp aftershave as he gave her a kiss on the crown of her head. “You want to watch old movies with your uncle tonight, or invite your friends over to do God knows what kind of teenage witchy mischief, your mother will understand.” 

Hope knew that he was right, that she would understand, but she would be sad, too. 

The faint sound of a door clicking open from the courtyard was followed by a split-second of whooshing air before a gorgeous blonde stood outside the kitchen doorframe. “Where is my niece!” she shouted with a laugh, designer sunglasses threatening to fall from where they were tucked up on her head. The following moments for Hope were all jingling bracelets, fancy perfume, and a soft, not-quite-physically-warm but very emotionally-warm hug. 

“Look at you! Elijah, look at this beautiful little woman! Can you believe she’s Nik’s?” 

“Very funny, Bekah,” her father wrapped an arm around their embrace. “Happy birthday, my littlest wolf.”

“Thank you, dad,” Hope really smiled for the first time that morning, giving him a tight hug. 

Uncle Elijah and Aunt Rebekah detangled from their own greeting, Elijah making some comment or other about Rebekah’s new hair cut. “Just because you choose one cut per century doesn’t mean we all must, big brother.” 

“Is no one going to help me with all of these bloody suitcases?” 

Hope gasped, quickly catching the cheshire-cat grins of the others in the kitchen as they watched her realize that there was more to the surprise. She bolted to the front courtyard and into her other uncle’s arms, making him drop the Coach duffels and Santa-esque bag of what had to be presents for her. 

The two laughed and her Uncle Kol kissed her cheeks. “You better be happy to see me. I had to survive a whole eight-hour flight with your Auntie just to get here.” 

“I heard that!”

“How long can you stay?” she asked, grabbing one of the suitcases and rolling it to the staircase. 

“As long as Nik and your dear wolfy mother can stand to have me, I suppose,” he said with a wink. 

As long as the Quarter can stand having all of the living Mikaelsons in one place, the pessimist in her translated with a frown. There was too much blood in this compound, too much blood in the name. They tried not to talk about it, but Hayley had made them promise never to lie to her. Recently the vague, sparing answers had become more detailed. Aunt Freya had somberly given her old accounts, a history that never made it into a human’s textbook.

Hope never quite got used to the way her dad’s family looked at her, like she was some Messiah, like she could do no wrong. She knew it had spoiled her, she knew it had made her act out. She knew she could never understand what it would be like to live a thousand years of violence without ever dreaming that a new generation could ever exist. And they could hardly remember what it was like to be human, much less a teenage one. 

Not long after the newcomers were settled and Hope had been absolutely interrogated about her friends and hobbies and everything under the sun and moon, Hayley Marshall came home from the Bayou. 

“Make way, I have cake!” she called throughout the compound. “Where’s my baby!” 

“We don’t have a baby anymore,” Her father cried out mournfully from the couch. “Only a mischievous young lady who is far too good for the lot of us!”

“Speak for yourself, Nik,” (Aunt Freya had come to visit with her new wife not a half an hour before.)

Hope had made her way down the stairs from the living room at this point, meeting her mother in the courtyard and giving her a sheepish smile. 

“Come here, little moon,” the hybrid woman said, gathering her in her strong arms and tucking her head against her shoulder. “Happy birthday, baby.” 

They all went out to lunch after that, because Hayley was adamant that Hope should have a dinner out with her Quarter friends before being trucked down to the swamp, no matter how fun the party was going to be. 

They each gave her one gift (the rest would be at the Bayou, they said, in case she thought they would each only get her a single gift). 

Among them was a handmade leather-bound tome, with a card in the wrappings from Freya. She didn’t understand why Freya had tears in her eyes as she had handed her the gift, she had only felt the rush of excitement to see a new spellbook, gasping and leafing through the -- empty pages.

For a moment she sat at the table in the fancy French Quarter restaurant dumbstruck, mouth hanging open and tears filling her own eyes. 

“I figured it was time,” Freya said, trying not to let tears creep into her voice. 

Her own grimoire. 

Hope closed the book now, to run her fingers over the exquisitely wrought leather on the cover. Her heart nearly stopped when she realized what it depicted.

“Your father helped me design it,” Freya whispered, but her voice seemed fuzzy and far-away. 

In the glyphs of her grandfather’s tribe, Hope read the symbol for witch, large and central amidst the nordic knots snaking throughout the leather. 

Inside the central symbol, right at the heart where two filled circles usually sat, was the symbol for Hybrid. In the uppermost circle, the rune for H was embossed. In the Vampire symbol, the A, and in the werewolf, the M. Her fingers shook as she traced the indents of the lines, and her mother’s hand covered her own, grasped it lightly. 

Suddenly it all seemed right. Her parents met because her father lived a thousand years as a vampire, which could not have happened if her grandmother had not been a powerful enough witch to make him so. She was born because of the living werewolf blood in each of her parents, she was alive because she was all three. 

And that wasn’t a bad thing. 

She was all her own, and she was proud of it for the very first time, looking down at the symbol her father had sketched, no doubt, to give her a place in the history that had given her to him.

There wasn’t a word for what she was, not in English, not in a modern tongue. But now there was a title, even if it existed only as an image from an ancient culture. 

She would go to the celebration tonight, the celebration for a Crescent princess, and she would dance her ass off and Mary would let her have more whiskey than the shot her mother had promised her. And no one could tell her she didn’t belong. 

Screw them. 

[fanfiction-writers]

HANDCUFFED|Billy Hargrove x reader//Part One//

What happens when the Girl Next Door gets dared to be handcuffed to the baddest boy in town? 

‘‘Your turn Y/N. Truth or dare?’‘ 

‘‘Tru-’‘ 

‘‘Come on don’t be a boring bitch,  pick dare’‘ 

‘‘Hey? I was not a boring bitch tonight? I did fun stuff, right?’‘ you gave Steve a look causing him to have a forced nodd. ‘’Singing a song in front of five people doesn’t count’’ Carol said as she tried to light her blunt. 

‘‘Alright fine, dare’‘ you gave in because Carol was never going to give up. You could tell that she had been waiting for this moment all night. And judging by the devilish smirk on her face you had just signed yourself up for trouble. 

‘‘I dare you to be handcuffed to Billy for three days’‘ she said without stuttering. Of course, good old Carol was trying to get someone to fuck you. It had been her personal mission ever since you two became friends. 

‘‘Fuck off, Carol’‘ you said as you lifted yourself up off the ground, ready to leave. ‘‘Hey, you can’t bitch out of this one!’‘ she reminded you. Bitching out of a dare would drain your pockets seeing as you had to pay every participant $100 bucks. 

‘‘It’s not like I bite flower cake’‘ Billy had decided to swoop in, not minding this dare at all. You and Billy had probably said two sentences to each other in the two months that you knew him. Though physically he was your type his personality was not. You often found yourself questioning why you were friends with Tommy and Carol, they were decent to you but horrible to others. But Billy was an absolute nightmare, straight out of hell he came.Nothing about his personality flattered you. As a matter of fact, he reminded you of Jake, the abusive stepdad you had. Same dark jokes, same anger issues and same fucked up vibes. 

‘‘Nance? Care to inform these morons that this won’t work? We have classes, I have a singing gig and how on earth do you have basketball practice handcuffed’’ you ranted. 

Nancy wanted to speak up but was cut off by Billy who was giving you a funny look. ‘’I’m not getting cuffed to this girl. She really is boring’’ he pointed out, staring at Carol to confirm her previous remarks.  ‘’You’re both doing this. You’ll skip the activities you can’t do and do the ones you can’’ Carol tried to compromise. 

‘‘That means no school for three days? Three days Carol? And how am I supposed to explain this- you pointed at Billy- to my family?’‘ you didn’t understand why Carol wanted you to do this. Especially since she knew about your past with sexual abuse. 

‘‘You’ll tell your parents that you’re sleeping over at my place but instead, you’ll sneak into Billy’s house. It will work, he practically has company over every single night and he never gets caught’‘ Carol answered back. 

‘‘If I get caught I’m suing you all’‘ you said as you grabbed your bag. This get together was over. 

A/N: I was going to make part 1 longer but I don’t know if people actually dig this concept so if you do please leave a like or reblog and commented to let me know. Next part will definitely be longer if this is well received. 

[jezabellgirlandfriends]

Van (Cold Fury, Book #9) by Sawyer Bennett 

Release Date: November 28, 2017

Synopsis

Score one for the Carolina Cold Fury hockey team as a stone-cold badass melts for a woman who makes his blood run hot.

As one of the league’s toughest enforcers, Van Turner is ruthless on the ice. He plays hard because it’s the only way to channel the rage boiling inside, and a reputation as an A-hole is better than everyone knowing the truth. Van has spent his entire life running from a secret that’s kept him from getting involved in relationships—or accepting lucrative deals with East Coast teams. Then the Carolina Cold Fury makes him an offer he can’t refuse . . . and Van meets a woman he can’t resist. Simone Fournier is the stubborn one in her family—and that’s saying something, considering her brothers are two of the Cold Fury’s biggest stars. Simone gets what she wants, and what she wants is Van. Still, there’s a part of him Simone can’t reach, no matter how hard she tries. In private, he’s all fire and passion. In public, he freezes her out. Van may want to push her away, but Simone won’t let him go that easily. Because this time, she’s playing for keeps.

Sawyer Bennett’s New York Times bestselling Carolina Cold Fury series can be read together or separately.

Links

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35018727-van

Purchase Van (Cold Fury, Book #9): 

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2zm018j

B&N: http://bit.ly/2pUfkB2

iBooks: http://apple.co/2pB0YqS

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2qG2XeA

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2pPNkkK

Audible: http://adbl.co/2BgeVOC

Review

I really do enjoy reading this series and I’m so glad it is going to continue with Reed’s story.

Despite being a series following a team of ice hockey players, each book is unique and refreshing. I have read stories about characters that I’ve loved, and some that have challenged my opinions about certain behaviour, including bullying.

We were introduced to Van during Lucas, as Lucas’ quiet, brooding and grumpy housemate. As a result, Van runs in parallel with Lucas for some of the story as we finally find out just what went on behind closed (bed)room doors between Van and Lucas’ sister, Simone.

It’s not the first time I’ve been called rude. I’ve also been described as closed off. Introverted. Asshole. Weird.

I wasn’t prepared for such a determined and dominant character for a 22-year-old but Simone really is a force to be reckoned with, in and out of bed. With her eyes firmly set on Van, she does everything in her power to win him over, even if their connection is based purely on sex. Whilst Simone’s antics came across as funny on occasion, she also smacked of desperation at other times. Van was determined to keep Simone at arm’s length for numerous reasons, the main reason becomes clear as the story progresses, but despite her being his teammates’ sister, he struggles to keep away from her after a while.

I’m rotten, mischievous, and completely flirty… in a nice way, of course. I could no more leave a man like Van alone than I could ignore aspirin the morning of a hangover.

After finally winning over Van’s “affections” (that’s affections used in the loosest possible term), Simone and Van have copious amounts of extremely physical sex. And whilst, their connection is explosive, the story became mostly about their coming togethers rather than anything else until we find out the real reason that Van is closed off. At this point, we find a softer side to both characters, which I really appreciated, but despite a tender and heartfelt moment when Van opens up to Simone, the scene ends with them once again banging the hell out of each other!

He’s a total bad boy, and I want him. I foolishly, petulantly want him. He’s the type a good girl goes after so she can tame him, except I’m not such a good girl.

For me, the lighthearted side of Simone was lost when she sold herself short with her sexual exploits. Van, also didn’t come across as a dominant character that you could fall for but instead, he was cruel and disinterested and remiss in ignoring his feelings towards Simone until everything comes to a head.

Whilst I enjoyed this story, I didn’t love it, which disappointed me as I was really looking forward to revealing the man behind the secretive persona. Sadly, the story becomes more erotica than romance, ie more sex and than substance, for some of the book which pulled my interest away from the storyline at times.

That said, this is a book which will be a hit with other readers and I guess that’s the beauty of this series, it really does have something for everyone.

This ebook was kindly provided by the author, publisher and Netgalley prior to release date in return for an honest and unbiased review.

We are proud to provide honest and unbiased reviews written from the heart.

About the Author

Since the release of her debut contemporary romance novel, Off Sides, in January 2013, Sawyer Bennett has released multiple books, many of which have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestseller lists. A reformed trial lawyer from North Carolina, Sawyer uses real life experience to create relatable, sexy stories that appeal to a wide array of readers. From new adult to erotic contemporary romance, Sawyer writes something for just about everyone. Sawyer likes her Bloody Marys strong, her martinis dirty, and her heroes a combination of the two. When not bringing fictional romance to life, Sawyer is a chauffeur, stylist, chef, maid, and personal assistant to a very active daughter, as well as full-time servant to her adorably naughty dogs. She believes in the good of others, and that a bad day can be cured with a great work-out, cake, or even better, both. Sawyer also writes general and women’s fiction under the pen name S. Bennett and sweet romance under the name Juliette Poe.

Connect with Sawyer:

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