#my partner is right and i love that i am the one who gets these kind of smart funny texts
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xx-reverie-xx · 1 day ago
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🖤Sevika HCs🖤
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just random sevika hcs. broken up into categories for general, romantic, and nsfw headcanons respectively.
i didn’t try very hard while writing this, so my writing is probably subpar here but…yolo.
men dni. minors dni. men dni. minors dni.
safe for enby lesbians. ♥️
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general
* raging butch lesbian 🧡🤍🩷.
* her place is messy but in an organized chaos sort of way.
* she smells like cigar smoke (in a good way), leather, and peppery mahogany.
* collects bottle caps. i can’t explain it, i just have a feeling she would!!
* has very, very cool, gay aunt vibes!!!
* actually an excellent cook.
* her carabiner is on the left side. she keeps the basics on it, so just her keys and one or two old key chains she has.
* in a modern au she would be into classic cars and the process of restoring them. her dream car is a 1970 mustang boss.
* on the topic of vehicles i can see her as a biker too. like, imagine seeing her taking off that helmet … swoon! imagine being her backpack … SWOON AGAIN!!!
romantic
* loves hugging you from behind
* if you’re with her at the last drop, she has her arm around you constantly. if it’s not that, she’s having you sit on her lap.
* this woman is a capital F Flirt. will talk you up one side and down the other like it’s nothing. if you’re just someone she happens to lock eyes with at the bar, you guys could go back and forth with flirting and banter.
* BUT if you and sev have been together for a bit flirting can get her flustered from time to time. you know *just* what to say to her to make her short circuit a little bit. no one can get under her skin the way you can. /pos
* calls you baby. if you’re a femme, she calls you her femme.
* surprisingly soft lips.
* kissing her feels like a dream.
* sevika prefers a partner who can take care of themselves. after all, she’s a busy woman and she can’t always come to your rescue.
* her giving love language is acts is service. need something fixed? in classic butch fashion, she’s absolutely got you covered. do you drink coffee or tea in the morning? she’s got a cup ready for you in the morning, *just* the way you like it. she’ll do anything for you when she’s got the time.
* her receiving love language? words of affirmation. she likes to know that you think she’s *good*. that she’s doing a good job and that you see that.
* would be so fucking whipped for you. you’re on her mind all the time. smiles when little things make her think of you. memorizes every little detail about you every chance she gets.
* she doesn’t have a type. like, at all.
nsfw
* stone top. there. i said it.
* nipple piercings 🙈.
* oh, she is eating that thang. this woman is a munch. she would know just how to lick or suck you to make you come before you know it. it’s a very personalized experience.
* she learns you inside and out. knows every. little. thing that makes you tick.
* vocal. like, as in, she talks. she’s dirty about it too. all “oh, yeah? you like that baby?”, “be good for me, i know you can take it” or “i know what’s good for you, now fucking take it”. she talks you through it every time.
* has a collection of straps. different strokes for different folks, am i right?
* touching on one of her receiving love languages being words of affirmation …
* she loves to be praised.
* it’s something she would never explicitly ask you to do. it’s a subtle thing.
* it’s in the way she short circuits when you tell her how good she’s doing, how good she makes you feel. you can tell she likes that, knowing that she is good for you, in the way her hands tremble or her hips stutter or, if she’s going down on you, the way her eyes go soft.
* she will fuck you senseless and then be so, so sweet on you after. makes sure you’re taken care of, that there’s something for you to drink, has towels ready for you incase you don’t feel like showering for a while after you finish. seriously, it’s like two different people.
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okay thats it. i am obsessed with this woman and just wanted to share some headcanons i had for her while i finish up a fic i’m trying to write🎠.
cant believe my first writing here was some random hcs but whatever!!!
requests currently open for multiple fandoms, including arcane :).
dividers by cafekitsune
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meelusinee · 9 hours ago
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NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT ✦ M.R x READER
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in which mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time
pairing: lovesick!mattheo riddle x reader
tags: lovesick mattheo, fem reader, so tamino inspired
word count: 3.7k
warnings: just fluff again! along with easily flustered mattheo (+ teasing theo)
author's note: my second post!! i made a small playlist of tamino songs i used for mattheo in this. if you haven’t, please go listen to him (his music is so good). i based this off a small part of my first fic where theo sang to reader. as always, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)
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NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER
Mattheo didn’t know much about love. 
Between being raised by a dictator and his craziest follower, he already didn’t have a very good start. Especially whenever he would get in trouble, the Cruciatus Curse was definitely no joke. Not to mention everyone pestering him about the legacy he led. News flash to the Gryffindors who would try to pick on him, he found it quite obvious that he was Voldemort’s son.
Suffice to say that he didn’t know much about love. He never had a true showcase of it, never had an example of it to compare to anything. The closest he ever had being another stunted teenager by the name of Theodore that considered him his brother, but even then there was still distance.
That was until he met you.
You, the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire existence on this Earth. Anything he  lol looked at on you he would find absolutely perfect, from the color of your eyes to the way your hair bounced in the sunlight.
That alone made it hard to approach you. Your nice demeanor seemed to make it even harder.
So, he settled with admiring from afar. Mattheo knew your schedule, the classes that you would take and every time that it varied. He would subtly watch you in classes, hang around the same areas you did during your break periods, or even where you went for fun. And, to the best of his ability, he tried to avoid things that looked bad. No more fights or cursing, not unless he was truly provoked.
His mind also got its grubby hands on the idea of a journal. A place he could write about you freely, one he charmed so only he could read it. Entries, song ideas, anything he could think of. You made him an artist, you as his perfect muse.
And it all got even better when you two finally met.
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You had just walked down to the courtyard, Mary Janes clacking along the rocks as you made your way over to a small pillar.
Recently, you noticed someone sitting by the pillars a lot more than usual. He was tall, his face usually covered by his brown curls as he wrote inna small journal he always carried with him. Said tall man with a face covered by his brown curls was your current potions partner, you had both been assigned to create a Liquid Luck potion.
“Hello?” you called out gently. face tilted down just a bit as you looked down at him. His eyes locked with yours when he looked up, the most beautiful shade of molten honey you had ever seen meeting your eyes. “Hi there, stranger.”
“Hello?” he whispered back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. His face looked rather cute when it was all scrunched up like that, a light blush covering his cheeks.
“I’m your Potions partner.” you said with a smile, flattening your skirt before moving to sit down next to him. “For the Liquid Luck project.”
“Oh,” he whispered, nodding as he closed his journal. It had a rather pretty leather cover, the pages aged and covered in ink from what you could tell. “Yeah, I remember. Y/N, right?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. “And you’re Mattheo.”
“Yes I am.” he said, a soft smile coming on his face as he heard that. He looked at you with something special in his eyes, eyes that carved themselves deep into your soul with the most intricate patterns you could think of.
The trance both of you seemed to be stuck in was broken when he cleared his throat, fingers tapping on his journal. “Did you have any ideas for the project?”
“Oh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yes, yes I do. I was thinking that we head to the library and research different potion methods and whatnot. Based on Slughorn’s instructions, I’m assuming that the instructions in the books won’t help much.”
“You’re a genius.” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.
“What was that?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat as he began to sit up. “Do you want to go now?”
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Mattheo thought that he was dreaming, if he was being honest.
The girl of his dreams, the girl that he had wrote almost obsessively day and night about for almost six years, that same girl was currently sitting across from him. Laughing.
“You’re ridiculous,” she smiled at his joke, her voice sweet like a piece of cotton candy melting on your tongue. He didn’t even remember what he had joked about at this point, his mind turning to mush the moment he heard that sound pass your lips.
Those lips that haunted his dreams every single night, the image of them so plush and pure he wanted to worship them like one would a holy angel. They looked absolutely perfect.
“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling softly as he rested his chin on his hand. He probably looked like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t mind. 
“I found something really interesting in this book  by the way,” you said, Mattheo’s eyes instantly darting to where your hands were resting on the page. “It says in the recipe that we need to juice a squill bulb, which most people just cut it for. But this recipe here notes that squeezing ingredients over a funnel gets more juice out.”
“That’s really interesting.” he whispered, his gaze looking at your face as you spoke. 
“Isn’t it?” you asked with a smile. “And here it says that adding the entire Murtlap makes the potion last longer, rather than just growth.”
“That’s also really interesting.” he whispered again, gaze still stuck on your face. You looked so pretty whenever you were concentrating on things, the way your eyebrows furrowed making him think of a million different songs and rhythms. 
“Is it?” you asked with a chuckle.
“Well,” he muttered, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “I always found Potions an interesting topic.”
“Always is not a word. It’s more of a concept.” you said, humming as you continued reading the pages. Mattheo chuckled softly, looking at you like a lovesick puppy.
“You’re lovely,” he whispered. 
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Theo was sitting in his bed reading a book, his curtains almost completely closed as he flipped between page to page. At least, he pretended to.
Recently, he had noticed Mattheo’s obsessive journaling habits. How his hands would be covered in ink by the time he was finished, or how he’d write until his new candle burnt out. Sometimes Mattheo would write even when the candle burnt out, instead opting for yet another one.
It was rather concerning to Theo, to say the least. Out of all of the things Mattheo could do, he was changing who he was. Self-improvement was one thing, but it seemed like he changed an obsession from fighting to writing.
“I can feel you staring at me.” Mattheo mumbled, looking back over at where Theo was sitting.
“I’m surprised you can,” Theo said under his breath, closing his book and standing up. “With how much you’ve been writing, I’d assume you get sucked in by a black hole sometime soon.”
“Oh hush,” he whispered, looking up from the journal. His hands were stained black and red with quill ink, the candle beside him still burning brightly. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’ve been doing it all week.”
“Your journal.” Theo smirked, walking behind Mattheo and placing his hands on his Mattheo’s shoulder. “What’s inside?”
“Why would I tell you?” Mattheo grumbled, continuing to write in the journal. Theo’s eyes squinted as they tried to read whatever was on the page, but the words were too jumbled to make any sense to him. No doubt a charm.
“You charmed the journal?” Theo asked curiously, looking down at Mattheo.
“Like you care.” he whispered under his breath, the quill scratching loudly against the paper. The room was quiet other than that, nothing but the quill scratching and the candle crackling.
“I do.” Theo said, his voice a bit more stern. He pulled up a chair next to Mattheo, resting his elbow on the table. “Mattheo, you’re pushing everyone away. Even me, and it’s not healthy. All you do is write in this journal, it’s kind of worrying.”
“I just like writing,” Mattheo whispered, moving his legs to rest his knees near his chest.
“About what?” Theo asked, his voice more soft than teasing.
“You’ll judge.” Mattheo whispered again, flicking the quill back and forth as his eyes glanced over at Theo. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because you’re my best friend.” Theo whispered. “I promise I won’t judge.”
Mattheo sighed before turning to the journal, pressing his wand against it as the words came into view more clearly. His handwriting was a lot more cursive than Theo first remembered, no doubt changing the more he wrote. 
“It’s a journal about her,” Mattheo whispered, flipping through some of the pages. “Love letters, poems, songs and stuff.”
“Her?” Theo asked curiously. “Who’s her?”
“Her,” Mattheo muttered to Theo, picking at his fingernails as he spoke. He looked like a blushing schoolboy who found his first love, it was rather cute to watch. “It’s, like, she’s a girl I just really like. I think about her a lot, you know? And I’m just trying to improve myself for her.”
“What’s her name?” Theo asked, resting his head against his hand as he crossed his legs.
“Y/N.” Mattheo sighed, like the word itself was a part of some holy prophecy. “She’s so beautiful, you know? Like something from heaven, just beautiful. And I just can’t get her out of my head.”
“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Theo asked, a small smile on his face.
“We have this project together right now.” he said, chuckling softly as he spoke. He was so down bad. “She took me to the library to research more about potions. Merlin, she’s so smart Theo. She figured the reason why nobody could make the potion was because the instructions were wrong.”
“So you both started researching?” Theo asked.
“She researched, yeah,” Mattheo said, before chuckling again. His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I kind of just sat watching her the entire time.” 
“Mattheo,” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. 
“You said you wouldn’t judge!” Mattheo protested.
“I’m not judging.” Theo chuckled, looking down at the journal. “I’m just confused on how you think you’ll get your girl if you can’t even talk to her. Journaling can only go so far.”
“I know,” Mattheo whispered, looking down at his journal again. “But it still helps.”
Theo nodded, looking down at the journal again. “What are you writing about right now?”
“Uh,” he muttered, looking at the pages. “It’s a song. She said something at the library that made me think of a song, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”  
“What’s it sound like.” Theo asked, leaning back in his seat.
“Uhm,” he whispered, picking at his nails again as he pushed the journal towards Theo. He hummed softly as he picked it up, eyes squinting as he tried to read his handwriting.
Darling, just calm with your voice
Let your heart sing, how I always enjoy 
When you say “always” is not a word
You think love is a bit absurd.
“That’s really nice,” Theo said, looking up at Mattheo with a small smirk. “This is a lot better than I thought it’d be, to be honest.”
“What did you think I was writing about?” Mattheo asked confusedly.
“Dark magic or something.” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Like you were possessed by a ghost to figure out how to resurrect themselves.”
Mattheo chuckled at that, taking his journal back. “I think you’ll find someone like this, you know. It makes life really nice.”
“Being in love?” Theo asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Yeah,” Mattheo whispered. “In love.”
“Well, there’s always an opportunity for that. And when it happens, it’ll happen.” Theo said, patting his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “But until then, there’s cigarettes.”
“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Mattheo snickered at that, using the lit candle to light his own cigarette.
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It had been a couple of weeks since you and Mattheo had started working on your project. You had figured out how to maximize the efficiency of your potion brewing, including changing methods of brewing and preparing ingredients. After about three different trials, you had finally found the perfect way to brew the potion. 
“That’s perfect.” Mattheo smiled softly at you, chuckling softly as he scratched the back of his neck. In all honesty, it looked like a regular potion to him. “I think that’s perfect, right?”
“That is perfect.” you said, giggling softly as his reaction You found it rather cute, if you were being honest. He seemed rather nervous around you. “Thank you for doing all of this with me, the potion work and all. Most people would probably just leave it to me, you know?”
“Why would they leave?” Mattheo asked, eyebrows furrowing.
You shrugged, looking down at the potion still set in the cauldron as you spoke. “I don’t really know. I guess people consider me weird or something like that. Someone said that I was whimsical once, I don’t think it was a nice way though.”
“That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mattheo spat. He couldn’t understand the logic of that. In his eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He would give anything in the world to hang out with you more often than he got too, and people gave that up for free? The thought was absolutely ridiculous.
You chuckled quietly at that, smiling softly. “Yeah?”
“Definitely. I mean,” he paused, looking up at you like that was the most absurd thing in the entire world. He had a small flush on his face, no doubt questioning what he was going to say. “I mean, you’re such a nice person. And I think that hanging around you is comforting.”
“And I think that you’re rather sweet.” you chuckled, looking at him with a soft smile.
“I’m being serious!” Mattheo said, looking you in the eyes. You hadn’t heard him talk this much in the entire time that you had been working with him, and you especially didn’t expect it to be him defending you. “You’re just, like, you. Which is really sweet, you know? I really like you and your whimsy, or whatever they try to call you.”
You giggled again, smiling softly at him as you scooted a bit closer. “You’re rather nice yourself, if I do say so myself.”
“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raising a pitch as he looked at the potion. “Do we need to test this?”
“I think so.” she nodded. “Do you want to do it?”
Mattheo looked at the potion, a small frown coming on her face. If anything went wrong with the podcast, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt by it. Which led to him nodding, the best option for him obviously being him taking the potion himself. 
“I’ll bottle it for you.” you said, grabbing the small ladle and pouring it inside the potion vial. “Here, one vial of Liquid Luck for you.”
Mattheo smiled softly as he took a sniff of it. “Is it meant to smell like something?”
“No, just air. I mean, clean air. Not like toxic air or anything.” you said, before ending your small speel. “It doesn’t smell like anything.”
Mattheo nodded again, taking a swig of it before coughing. “That’s definitely hot.”
“It did just come off the cauldron.” you chuckled, fingers fidgeting slightly. “Do you feel lucky?”
Mattheo looked up at you with a look you could only describe as a lovesick puppy, a small flush covering his face as he admired you. You could only assume the amount of thoughts running through his mind were plenty, some very hard to sort through. 
“Yeah,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “Very lucky.”
You chuckled softly at that, your face flushing as you watched his eyes lock onto your lips. “Do I have something on my lips or something?”
“No,” he whispered softly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he spoke. “No, I just,”
“Something on my teeth?” you asked, shining your teeth to him.
“I want to kiss you.” he whispered. 
Your mouth closed again as you heard that, eyes locking onto his after he spoke. That didn’t last long though, as his eyes focused back on your lips again. “You what?”
“I want to kiss you.” he said a bit more clearly, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to kiss you.”
“You can kiss me.” you whispered softly to him, scooting a bit closer to him in return. 
Mattheo blinked for a couple of seconds, the shock of your answer plastered on his face. It filled you with a small sense of confidence, the blush on his face fueling your own. “I can?”
“You can.” you smiled.
Mattheo smiled brightly at that, the burn of it brighter than the sun sucking his lips in like a blackhole would. His lips immediately met yours, burning like fireworks against his skin. It was absolute bliss to him, burning through his skin and turning him into nothing but lovesick ash.
“Your lips are absolutely perfect, my love.” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with a gaze full of adoration. “So perfect.”
“Was your luck to try and kiss me, Riddle?” you chuckled softly at him. 
“This is the luckiest moment of my life.” he whispered. 
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“Theo!” Mattheo spat out, opening the dorm room door as he stormed in. His palms looked sweaty, and his face was absolutely covered in a bright blush. 
“Mattheo.” Theo said his name back, closing his book as he looked at where Mattheo had stormed in. He looked absolutely wrecked, almost drenched in sweat. “You look like you just got your ass kicked on the Quidditch field.”
“I just,” he whispered, walking closer to Theo as he paced around the room. “I just kissed her.”
“Y/N?” Theo asked, a small smile crossing her face. “You kissed her?”
“It was so perfect.” he whispered, laying down on Theo’s bed. “Like, it was like her lips had a magnetic pull on me. I couldn’t stop for the next hour. A whole hour!”
“That’s wild, mate.” he chuckled softly, patting Mattheo on the head.
“It was just perfect,” he whispered under his breath, sighing softly. “Like, I don’t know how else to describe it. Maybe like looking at a supernova for the first time.”
“You are down bad, Mattheo.” he chuckled softly at that, continuing to pat his friend on the head.
“And then we, after that right?” he said, the smile on his face only growing larger. “We snuck off to this broom closet. You know the ones. And we did, we had,” he paused, sighing in frustration as his words jumbled in his head. “You know?”
“I know.” Theo chuckled.
“I have a song idea again.” Mattheo said, sitting up again as he rushed to the journal he kept so dearly to his heart. “I will be dead to the world for the next few hours.”
“You want me to go tell Y/N that, lover boy?” Theo smirked.
“She can come in whenever.” Mattheo said, dipping his quill in black ink. “I already gave her our dormitory password.”
“You what?”
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“I have a present for you.” Mattheo whispered under his breath, a small smile on his face as he walked towards you.
It was the 6 month anniversary of one of the happiest relationships you had ever been in. There was communication and there was love. Small dates near the Black Lake at midnight, with breakfast you stole from the Great Hall earlier. Times where he’d take you into town and let you dress up however you wanted, all on the cards he stole from Malfoy. Or small get-togethers like this, hangouts at the top of the Astronomy Tower. 
And the presents were always lovely. Small poems that he wrote for you, or love letters that he hand wrapped himself. A small blush or dress you had been eyeing for more than two seconds, or room decor that went with your forever indecisive aesthetics. 
“You do?” you giggled softly, gasping softly as he pulled out a small guitar. “A song?”
“I’ve written a couple for you,” he whispered. “And I wanted to sing them to you. For our anniversary.”
“I love you.” you giggled, smiling as he sat down.
He cleared his throat as he made sure the guitar was in tune, strumming a few chords before eventually developing a melody. It seemed almost hypnotic the way his hands moved, his voice humming along as he figured out the rhythm.
“Yesterday, I was a word. Left with no voice to speak it,” he hummed softly, his voice and the guitar both vibrating through the walls. You smiled brightly as you heard his voice, not realizing how pretty his voice actually sounded.
“Now I am a happy song, placed on the lips of a woman.” he sang, winking at you. He continued for a few lines, a small smirk growing on his lips as he got to the instrumental part.
“What are you going to sing next?” you asked, watching him giggle softly. “Seriously!”
“Patience,” he whispered, chuckling as he strung the melody again, his eyes darting down at the guitar. “Now she has me, under her skirt,”
“Mattheo!” you flushed, slapping his arm and breaking the rhythm of his song. “My skirt?”
The both of you burst out into a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the cold night air that breezed through the alcove you sat in. Or maybe you just felt warm in his presence, a constant feeling of love rushing through your body.
“Can I finish my song now?” he smirked.
“I suppose you could.” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to sing.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
my second post oh my GOD this one took a hot minute to get through. beta-reading and proof reading is definitely not my jam, and there's definitely things that i missed in this. but i hope it still works out well, especially the whole lovesick angle i was going for. if you guys haven't already, please please please go check out tamino's music. it is actually so. good. if you listen to hozier or adrianne lenker, i think you'd really like his songs (my favorites are the first disciple and habibi)
as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!
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gravestrain · 13 hours ago
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gave you too much but it wasn't enough (qh43)
In which you wonder if your relationship with Quinn might end in death by a thousand cuts.
This is my submission for the eras tour fic challenge hosted by @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy! I am thrilled to be a part of this event. I received DBATC, and if you know me you know any kind of angst is not my wheelhouse, but I was thrilled to get this challenge and try to create something angsty. It will never be unresolved in my world but hopefully this does the trick :) 2.5k words, fem reader, no warnings that I know of, not proofread.
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When Quinn was named the captain of the Vancouver Canucks, you had never felt so proud.
Being with Quinn for two plus years at the time, you were over the moon to see the love of your life, your favorite person in the world, being given such an honor, an honor he worked so hard for, an honor you know he deserved. Quinn was one of the most dedicated people you've ever met. With that dedication of course, comes time. Quinn dedicated countless hours to improving his game, practicing with his teammates, working out in the gym, going on runs, anything he could do to be the best he could be, he was doing it.
Under the moonlight, as you and Quinn celebrated his accomplishment, he promised you that he wouldn't stray away. That his commitment to the team wouldn't outweigh his commitment to you. To being a loving partner. A companion. However, when you woke up, stretching your arm out to feel an empty bed yet again, despite knowing that it couldn't have been much past 7 am, you wondered what went wrong. What happened to cause those promises to crumble. His words to be empty, lifeless. Void of meaning. When did you and Quinn become a couple that told each other lies? Told each other things just because the other person wanted to hear them, not because they genuinely intended to fulfill them.
It was the start of Quinn's second season as the Canucks captain. At first, you thought it was too good to be true. Quinn was thriving in his new role, yet still being the perfect partner. Attentive and on time, compassionate and loving. Now, that version of Quinn is a distant memory, mocking you as you think of him.
It started after the holidays in Quinn's first season of being captain. You chalked it up to post holiday stress and all star weekend buzz, maybe even trade deadline drama. Then the all star game passed, and even the trade deadline. Shortly after you started blaming it on the playoff push, then the playoff loss. And now here you were in November, searching for answers, trying to figure out what happened to the love of your life who turned into a stranger right in front of your own eyes, with nothing you could do about it but watch it happen.
You got yourself ready for work, looking around in the bathroom, on the bedside table, and eventually the kitchen to see if maybe Quinn left you a note, a cup of coffee in your favorite travel mug, a bagel from your favorite bakery around the corner, a sign of his love, signs that he used to never leave the house without showing. Just as you thought, there was nothing. You couldn't even remember the last time you felt Quinn kiss your forehead before he left for God knows what. Another workout, another two mile run after the three miles he did on the treadmill, or locking himself in his office watching film.
Work came and went that day, taking the long way home, dreading going home to an empty house. You thought it would be worse trying to interact with the stranger you lived with, but the silence, the emptiness, the sterile, unwelcoming cold was always worse. You stared up at the traffic lights, wondering if others saw just how foolish you felt. Writing lines to a story that was long over. Grasping on to the book, hoping for a surprise ending, one that would make everything worth it.
To say you were surprised to see Quinn's Porsche in the driveway was an understatement. Usually on practice days he didn't get home until well after 6 pm. You unlocked the front door, not expecting much. Just because he was home, doesn't mean he wasn't locked up in his office, taking notes from last night's game. A game that you never bothered to go to anymore. You knew the other WAGs missed you, people speculated about your absence on the internet, always cruel and judgmental. You couldn't bring yourself to go. You had learned to despise hockey for taking Quinn from you.
You opened the door and were surprised to see Quinn in the kitchen, grabbing a snack. Quinn looked as surprised to see you as you were, almost like he didn't know where you were, or if he even remembered that you lived there. Quiet "hi's" were exchanged, Quinn leaving a soft kiss on your cheek then awkwardly brushing past you to go towards the fridge.
"I thought we could have chicken and pasta for dinner tonight. It sounded good on my way home, I hope that's okay," Quinn muttered out, but already getting a pot of water for pasta ready, as though it didn't matter what you truly wanted. "That's okay," you offered back. "I'm gonna go sit down and read my book. If you need me, just holler." You offered and Quinn gave a nod in response. You wanted to grunt and groan under your breath. How could this be okay with him? It was as though you didn't know him, despite him knowing everything about you.
You tried to distract yourself with your book, but frustrated tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped them away aggressively, not wanting Quinn to see you cry. He couldn't muster up simple greetings, and an I love you would be almost toxic coming out of his mouth. He didn't care anymore, that much was obvious. So why should you?
You didn't know how long time passed, but it was enough time for Quinn to come over with a plate of dinner, unaware of your state. Your heart swelled. Most days, you had been eating dinner at the table, the memories of the two of you loved up on the couch, enjoying your meal and watching your latest binge watch were long gone. It seemed that Quinn was looking for one of those nights, until he saw your tears. His face dropped, setting your plate down and kneeling in front of you.
"Everything okay, sweetheart?" He asked, trying to get you to meet his eyes. You shook your head. How could he be so oblivious? "Are you serious?" You ask and Quinn's expression changed, like you had hurt him. "What do you mean by that? Why would I not be serious?" he asked, causing you to shake your head. "Quinn, things haven't been right between us for months. You leave me everyday without saying goodbye or even kissing me goodbye, you act like spending time with me is the worst thing in the world. I never go to games anymore because I resent hockey for taking you from me. When you were named captain, I was so proud of you I could explode. Now I can't even bare to be in the hockey setting because it reminds me of everything you chose over me. Quinn, I don't even know if you love me anymore." You took a breath after getting it off your chest, but at the same time a wounded gasp came out of Quinn's mouth, like he was a wounded animal.
"You think I don't love you anymore? How could you think that?" he asked, clearly hurt by what you had said. "What else do you want me to believe, Quinn? I can't even remember the last time you told me you loved me. And beyond that, that you ever even showed that you might. I feel like I live with a stranger. You can't honestly tell me that you have felt satisfied in this relationship. That you feel that we love each other to the fullest, that we love spending time together. I haven't felt confident that you feel that way in a long time." At this point you both had tears in your eyes, Quinn feeling devastated by what he was hearing.
Of course Quinn wasn't 100% satisfied with your relationship. He wasn't delusional enough to believe that everything was perfect. He knew that hockey had been his number one priority lately, and he had been trying to make that not be the case.
"Baby, I know I haven't been putting you first lately, and I'm sorry for that. I truly am. But I feel like it's only been this way since the start of the regular season." This had you scoffing immediately. "You don't seriously believe that. Quinn, I could say I have felt this way on and off since January." This caused another hurt gasp to leave Quinn's lips. "Why didn't you say something..." he trailed off, hurt, but he knew the answer.
"I shouldn't have to beg you to love me, Quinn. I shouldn't have to tell you that you have been neglecting me, neglecting us. If you truly can't see what's been going on, I don't know how I can explain it to you. If you think that this relationship has been satisfactory for both parties, I can't change your mind of that. But I won't be treated like this any longer. I think we should spend some time apart." Quinn backed up as soon as the suggestion came out of your mouth, looking like he had been shot.
"You don't mean that, you can't" he gasped. "Quinn, I'm not saying I want to breakup. If I didn't believe this was salvageable, if I didn't believe you could fix this, I would just say I wanted to break up. I believe we can fix this, but I think some time apart would do us good. For us both to figure out what we're looking for and what we truly want. If we find that this is still what we want, that's great, I believe that we will make it work. But this, this... arrangement, this isn't working. I know you seem shocked and hurt, but I know you don't believe that this is working for both of us, or honestly either of us."
"I'll go stay with Petey, I don't want to be in your way," Quinn suggested and you shook your head. "It's okay, really. I can go stay with Brock's girlfriend. Since she lives by herself it won't be awkward for any of us. I do believe we can make this work Quinn, I just don't think we can do it in these conditions." You put your hand on his cheek and his face softened, leaning into your touch.
"Tell me how to fix it, please, I'll do anything," he begged, tears steadily streaming down his face. "I can't tell you that, Quinn. I want you to figure out. To understand where I'm coming from, and want to work to fix it. I haven't been perfect either Quinn, we can both work on this. I shouldn't have to tell you that spending time together once a month isn't enough. I don't know how it can be enough for you, either. If that's okay with you, then this just isn't going to work."
"I'll fix it baby, I promise, I'll do anything." he whispered, almost defeatedly but feeling much better. "I believe you, baby. I do."
-------------------
The flowers started on Mondays. Each Monday, a different bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers arrived at your office. The message was also different each week but it always ended the same way: " I love you, I believe in us." You texted Quinn every week when the flowers came to let him know you got them and to send your thanks. After four weeks of flowers, you were sitting in the front room of Brock's girlfriend, Bella's, apartment, getting stuff done on your computer on a chilly Saturday afternoon. A knock on the door sounded, causing you to pause your work. You had been staying with Bella long enough that you felt comfortable getting the door. Not to mention Bella liked to sleep in super late on weekends, meaning you would be the only one to even be available to open the door.
Your heart sank to your toes as you looked through the peephole, seeing Quinn. He looked different. If your gut was right, he looked tired, a far away look in his eyes, almost as though he missed you as much as you missed him. You didn't want to believe it, wary of getting your heart broken. He was holding something in his hands, fidgeting with it as he waited for the door to open.
"Y/N, hi," Quinn whispered out, taking a step towards you. "Hi Quinn, it's great to see you. How have you been? Would you like to come inside?" You asked, causing him to shake his head. "I can't stay, but thank you for offering," he stopped himself, wanting to keep boundaries in between you two in order for you to be most comfortable.
"It's been a while since we've seen each other, and I wanted to come ask you something. I was hoping you'd like to come to the game tomorrow night? I was hoping this would be enough time, but if not it's okay." His voice was shaky, unsure, almost like he was scared of your response. "I'm not sure, Quinn. Won't it be weird that I'm there? I don't want to cause any drama." You said apprehensively. You were also nervous of what that step in your relationship would be.
"There would be no drama at all, babe. You could just sit with Bell in the stands if you would prefer that, but I know the WAGs have really been missing you. I heard Millsy's daughters have been waiting for you to paint their nails on intermission again," he joked, causing you to smile. His heart melted at the smile on your face, finally feeling fulfilled, that he made you happy.
"I'll be there, Quinn. You can put me in the box. Don't worry about parking, though. I'm sure I can catch a ride with Bella." You both smiled, joyful at the step in the right direction for the both of you. "I can't wait."
________________
For all the time you had spent at Canucks games, you never thought you would be so nervous about what to wear, but here you are. Finally, settling on a stylish Canucks long sleeve with no distinction of Quinn on the shirt, paired with dark jeans and sneakers.
Quinn played a great game, getting a goal and an assist, the Canucks winning 3-1. You were ecstatic. Being back at the games, with your friends, cheering on Quinn, just felt right. It felt like where you were supposed to be. When you met Quinn after the game, he couldn't help himself either, jogging up to you and wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up off the ground. "Quinn!" you exclaimed, laughing out loud. "You did so good!" You laughed as he set you back on the ground. "It's because you were here, my good luck charm." He mused, causing you to blush.
Before he could stop himself, Quinn asked: "come home with me?" Your breath shortened, definitely not expecting that to come out of his mouth. "Are you sure?" You asked him, heart racing at the idea of going home with Quinn, truly where you belonged. "I would want nothing more."
It felt at times that no matter how much you gave to Quinn, it would never be enough. But as you both grew and learned more about yourselves, you both knew that all you could give would always be enough for the both of you.
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igglemouse · 3 days ago
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Simón stared at the product and wondered about it. He never used. He followed that old rule, don't get high off your old supply, but the thing is, this wasn't his supply. He was just the transportation. He brought the stuff in, he brought the stuff out, and that was it. Didn't pay much but it did pay enough but as he looked at it he wondered if it was time for a promotion. If they were going to drag him back in then why should he remain on the sidelines?
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It was something he had to seriously consider. If he had the blessing of the cartel, maybe, just maybe he could pull it off. But without their approval? He'd be dead. You don't run from Los Tigres, at least not for long, so if he were to become a dealer he'd have to be a partner.
Still, as he looked around his cramped rundown and dusty trailer he started to wonder if this was his only move. He didn't have many job prospects but he had a lot of ambition. Maybe this was his opportunity...
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Tuesday morning and yep, still doing chores. We're planning to hire a maid soon because honestly otherwise this place would be a little too much for me to handle. I do think it would be a temporary thing. I'm not sure if I want Flora growing up to be spoiled, thinking someone will always do her laundry and clean up after her, but who knows how I'll feel about it once the maid checks in. Maybe they will spoil me. It's hard to imagine myself as one of those pampered player wives but I feel like that's the path I'm going down.
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As for Flora I'm taking care of her the best I can which of course includes feeding her right from the source. There are a lot of benefits to it, health wise and I've heard it helps with bonding. Not that we'll need help with that because I feel like I've already completely connected with her! She's growing so fast too, every day I can see her getting just a pinch bigger, or maybe I'm imagining it?
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Overall, life feels perfect right now! I know I keep saying this but I really can't imagine that I would be in this spot a year ago. A beautiful baby girl, a beautiful house, and an umm, yeah, a good looking but somewhat goofy boyfriend! I just feel so good that even a plain apple salad gets me excited!
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I'm really pouring as much of myself as I can into this new social media thing when I do get free time. I want to feel productive and I know taking care of Flora is being productive but like I've said, I don't want that to be my only thing. I know being a mama means limited free time too but I'll manage. I think my new career is off to a great start as well!
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As for Pascal, well, you can probably guess. Yep. Working out and of course without his shirt. If you've got it, flaunt it, is what I always hear.
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And I'm trying to get it back with a little more free time given to me or at least enough time to hop on the treadmill. I have my mind set on losing this baby weight and I am also motivated by the fact that Pascal does this every single day so I can do it too!
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I did spend most of my day on the treadmill and got a solid workout in. I feel so much better! I can't head to bed though without checking in on Flora who was whiny and wriggly and needy and this time I bottle fed her. I also hang out with her a little, chat with her a little, and let her know I love her more than anything in the world. How could I not? Look at her!
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Pascal is out for a road game and that's why I've been here home alone for most of the day. I was going to slip into bed but I remember I have to check my socials before sleeping. Which means just seeing the reaction to my last video and interacting with people here and there and also checking in on Pascal's socials since I'm nosy and he's my guy so I have a right to be a little nosy. That's normal right?
Is it also normal that he's liking this woman's post?
Frida Varela - Next Episode 9.4
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generalluxun · 3 days ago
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I'm still trying to get my head around Chat Noir's complete sidelining not just in the finale, but pretty much the entirety of the show. Based on some of the tweets I've seen, Thomas Astruc is pretty hostile to the suggestion that Chat should have more of a share of the narrative.
So... why? Why make his family, his very existence, the fulcrum on which the show turns? If you want to be the show to only be about Marinette, with Adrien as a side character and "just" a love interest, then MAKE the show only about Marinette. Don't make the main plot about Adrien, and wonder why people are confused when he's not more involved in the main plot. It's such a self-inflicted wound.
Heck, the least they could have done was give Marinette SOME personal stake in her conflict with Hawkmoth, even if it's as uncomplicated as making Marinette a paragon-type superhero like Superman or Captain American who takes her duty to the people of Paris very seriously and feels deeply about the hurt Hawkmoth's is putting them through. But most of Marinette's personal conflicts are about romance or school dynamics. The closest any of her conflicts come to her actual enmity with Hawkmoth are those that deal with the stress of being a superhero/Guardian, in which Hawkmoth doesn't really feature as a person who is her mortal enemy but as an impersonal cause for the stress she's in.
While the finale tries to summon some emotional weight to Marinette's situation, the final fight, at least on Ladybug's end, feels less like the culmination of an epic rivalry and more like a contractual obligation Marinette needs to meet as Gabriel's assigned nemesis.
I mean, the unsatisfying but true answer is twofold:
1)TA never wanted Ladybug to have a partner. That was a requirement in order to get producers lined up to hand over money. It should be understood that I am NOT trashing the producers for this. It is their money. If you want to pursue your purely artistic goal then you secure other funding or self fund. If you want to get something MADE then you have to make what people want to pay to have made. A portion of the friction here comes from the fact that I don't think TA ever stopped fighting for his original version of the show, and that version conflicts directly with the version he was paid to write for.
2)In the context of the above- Adrien is a TROPHY. Gabriel is the DRAGON, and his home life is the TOWER that the KNIGHT Marinette must rescue him from. If Adrien were a side-character he wouldn't be much of a trophy, investment wise. Is it good to make a character purely a trophy? No. It's not good when it is done ot female characters, it's not good when it's done to male ones either. (Or intersex, enby, nongendered, etc) We've moved past the kind of storytelling TA is selling in his vision of ML. It feels like something out of the early 00's, which when you consider where he started his work, makes a lot of sense.
Should they have connected Marinette to Gabriel more? Absolutely! They both do fashion! SHE could have had an internship right along with Lila. Can you imagine the rivalry there? Can you imagine the conflicts with Gabriel?
At the VERY least they should have let Marinette actually track down abriel. Let her put all her planning and analysis to good use! Instead they just had Felix do it all and then some blind luck at the end. That's LAME, that's cheating Marinette out of a well deserved culmination story beat.
Punching has never been what Ladybug was about, so a final fight could never be a satisfying climax no matter how 'epic' it was.
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elliotthinkssometimes · 1 day ago
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I will never stop thinking about jayce and viktor they are such perfect characters oh my god
I think it’s so interesting how when we first meet them you think like ‘oh jayce is gonna get corrupted by the power of being a counsellor’ and it turns out that really viktor who gets corrupted which actually makes so much sense.
like you take this guy who grew up in the shitty part of the city who has to sneak into the academy and work so hard for everything, with a body that is literally falling apart and has been his entire life. And you give him this partner who confident and well off, piltovers perfect man of progress and perfectly likeable and healthy. And she loves him anyway. No matter whether you see the ending as confirmation of jayvik or not, you cannot say that jayce doesn’t care about viktor. In fact most things he’s done in the show have been for him or because of him.
But there’s no way to stop viktor from feeling inferior. and then you give him all this power and knowledge that can fix people, and fix him. After all of his work and research he can finally make an actual difference and actually help people. And how is he expected to see that he’s turning these people into husks? Everything is perfect and peaceful and working.
until jayce inexplicably blows him up. Which makes no sense right? Because we already know that he cares about viktor a ridiculous amount and it’s when we find out that he was on orders from viktor that it actually makes sense.
and jayce goes through this horrible physical version of what viktors life has been like: dragging himself from the depths of the undercity to the very top of piltover with a shitty leg and no one to help him. and that’s when jayce understands, and that’s how he’s able to talk him out of destroying everything. He was the only one who was ever able to show him the error of his ways in ever universe and possibility.
viktor told him. And jayce told viktor first.
they have only ever wanted to help each other and i am going a little bit insane cjskcnsnxgshs
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allwaswell16 · 44 minutes ago
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A One Direction fic rec of fics I think you should read twice as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers. You can find my other recs here. Happy reading!
- Louis / Harry -
🍒 This Multiplicity of Powers by @helloamhere
(E, 149k, X-Men au) Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside. But this isn’t that universe.
🍒 There’s Such a Lot of World to See by @crinkle-eyed-boo
(E, 125k, Doctor Who au) Louis has seen a great many things throughout his travels in time and space, but only one he can’t explain: He keeps meeting the same boy, who says the same thing to him each time.
🍒 And What If I Were You by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom
(E, 109k, blind Louis) For Louis, will losing his sight give him the clarity to realise what is right in front of him? For Harry, will losing the love of his life give him the strength to finally open his heart?
🍒 ghost of you by beckywritesthings / @beckydoesthings
(E, 109k, Star Wars au) when Harry Styles, esteemed Jedi Knight, finds out he has to work with the hot-tempered Mandalorian Duke, Louis Tomlinson, he’s prepared for it to go poorly. But it doesn’t, testing both of their boundaries of what they deem acceptable for a partnership.
🍒 Black with Autumn Rain by whimsicule / @baroness-elsa
(T, 93k, magical realism) Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren't exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.
🍒 Nothing But You On My Mind by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense
(E, 83k, royal) Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. 
🍒 Unveiled by @phdmama
(M, 65k, omegaverse) most surprising are the people. There is a crowd gathered, filled with men and women, some in what looks to be a military uniform, some in what must be the street clothes in this Land. There are no robes. And not a single one of them is veiled.
🍒 Old Photographs & Times I'll Remember by @jaerie
(E, 53k, time travel) H.S. was likely the man in the photographs as well as the owner of the suitcase. Who was he? Why had his suitcase found its way into Niall’s attic? Was he still alive and well somewhere in the world? A camera, a suitcase, and a relationship forged through time.
🍒 Tied to Fate by @littlelouishiccups
(E, 52k, ghost) After his estranged father’s death, Harry inherits a castle in England that has belonged to his family for generations and he knows nothing about. When he breaks up with his boyfriend, Harry decides England is the perfect place for a small vacation. He isn’t prepared to meet Louis Tomlinson
🍒 The Second Hand Unwinds by @kingsofeverything
(E, 51k, time travel) Louis Tomlinson is one of the first members of NASA's top secret Chrono Exploration Program. When things go wrong and he's sent further back in time than planned, he has no other option than to show up on his ex-boyfriend's doorstep.
🍒 Tied Down by HamPalpert
(E, 48k, crime) The most interesting case in Liam and Niall's careers falls directly into their laps, courtesy of an epic fuck-up of one Harry Styles, partner to the almost-infamous drug dealer Louis Tomlinson. 
🍒 take my hand (and my heart and soul) by bananasandboots / @anylessreal
(M, 45k, amnesia) the one where Harry hasn't spoken to his best friend in sixteen months and can't remember why.
🍒 And That's The Tea by @2tiedships2
(M, 27k, soulmates) the one where Louis loses his soulmate before even getting the chance to meet them, and he is in no way prepared for the kind of distraction his new friend Harry proves to be.
🍒 No One Like You by myownspark / @myownsparknow
(M, 19k, historical) Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.
🍒 I Am the Blinking Light by @dearmrsawyer
(G, 19k, ghost) There is a legend of a lighthouse far out to sea. It can’t be found on any map, and those who do find it never return. They say a ghost haunts the lighthouse, and you can hear it calling out in loneliness on the ocean waves.
🍒 Have Me And Hold Me by @letsjustsee
(NR, 5k, established relationship)  a wedding day AU in which Louis will let nothing stand in the way of a perfect day - especially a little rain.
🍒 No One But You Got Me Feeling This Way by runaway_train / @runaway-train-works
(E, 3k, camboy) The one where Harry has a particular desire that only Louis can fulfill
- Rare Pairs -
🍒 I Had Rather (series) by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships
(E, 261k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Nick and Louis like each other, but sometimes that's not enough.
🍒 Miss Missing You by harriet_vane
(M, 16k, Liam/Louis) Louis wakes up after an accident with a year of memories gone and something not quite right about his relationship with Liam.
🍒 Favourite Boy by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment
(T, 8k, Louis/Zayn) Zayn and Louis have been hook-ups for the past three years and Zayn is getting frustrated with it, but doesn't know what to do about it.
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chirpchirplol · 2 days ago
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hi! anonymous asker here, I made an account to post about why I initially thought I was Lion. This is going to start off like me trying to argue it's wrong but that's not what it is. It's also long af, sorry for that, I wrote it out for myself to process it then went back and realized there was a literal question it was in response to. longafness after link, tl;dr: I value and rely on my gut feelings heavily, can't make myself ignore them, but I want them to be predictable and it's uncomfortable when they get out of line
So I felt confident about Lion, and with Badger or Snake, it was "I wouldn't like it but I could see it." Like with Snake, I love me some hedonism and struggle with selfishness - had assumed both those characters were huge Snakes lol - but find it as a whole to be a very "fuck you, I got mine" mentality. Sucks for those strangers in need with no one to come through for them! Like I have STRONG feelings about this, I don't understand how people don't find it horrifying. I actually have a weird opposite thing where I can get FURIOUS on behalf of strangers being mistreated, even hypothetical or fictional ones, in a way I don't for people I know well or even myself. Which is why I thought Badger was possible and maybe I just was resistant due to being burned or because I thought it was boring, but the unpersoning group thing creeps me out. "All people matter… except the ones that don't." It's so close to being really beautiful!
With Bird it was more, "who even does this?" Like with the Bird answer on the "lack of objective truth" question, "it's OK, I thought about it and reality is close enough to the model in my head", that is literally incomprehensible to me as a way a person would think. (My answer was "actually there is objective truth." That was my answer before I even got through the question.)
The main reason why I thought Bird was impossible is the "choosing to care about something" part. I can't do that. Caring about things is not something I can turn on or off at will, even if I want to. At least not important things as opposed to say hobbies, but even then I can't just go "ok self, you're gonna like football now because I said so" and then actually do. It's an organic process, I can kick it off but ultimately I either care or don't care, and if I don't then the farthest I'm gonna get is pretending, or lying to myself while knowing it's a lie. Definitely can't talk myself into caring about a job, god knows I've tried lol. My likes and dislikes are so fundamental to who I am as a person, so sacred even, that the idea that they are deliberately malleable for other people is just, whaaaaa?
Where this really kicks in is friends and relationships, I cannot deliberately make myself like someone I dislike or dislike someone I like, people generally don't grow more attractive to me over time. and it'd make me sad, like relationship-foundation-shakingly sad, if I found out my friends/partner felt that way with me. like they had to try to like me rather than just like me.
I'm not really a logical person either. I start with the conclusion, which is generally based on feelings, and then hope I can justify it in case I ever have to talk about it. (because arguing is stressful enough when I do have a defensible stance let alone when I can't explain it) I have this irrational but unshakeable assumption that my feelings and thoughts should just agree completely. When they don't, that feels bad, but my gut has veto power. To fully talk myself into or out of opinions I have to actually feel good about them, they have to not feel viscerally wrong, or else things get into an uncomfortable self-judging place where I know I should believe something but don't actually, truly, deep down, believe it. Or where none of the stances feel right, that's even more "fun".
A good example of that is actually the "past self is a different person" thing. My past self is still me, the things I did or thought in the past do not disappear just because I've changed nor do their permanent effects on me. I absolutely feel guilty about things I used to believe, and sure some of that is just the cringe of people knowing about it, but even if no one else knew I'd know and that's enough. And yet… I also theoretically believe in rehabilitation and think it's wrong not to, but apparently I actually don't, because that sure isn't something a person who believes in rehabilitation would say! I'm being flippant but this legitimately bothers me, especially because the idea of not believing in rehabilitation feels even more bad.
What convinced me ultimately: I'm not a Trump supporter, obviously. I would like to think it is absolutely impossible for me to become a Trump supporter. But that's what they all say, people become the things they would never EVER become all the time. Which led me to this question: Would it be worse to deliberately choose to do something wrong, or to slowly stop believing it's wrong without realizing? Or does that distinction even matter? Feel free to substitute something less extreme, like working for an evil company, bullying, cheating, selling out, betraying a friend, whatever line you would never cross.
And my answer is actually that the latter is wayyy more disturbing. I'm really big on owning and naming your beliefs and desires. It's a great way to get your conscience to kick in, to actually say it out loud then see how good or bad that felt. Same principle as how, if someone makes a racist joke, you act confused and ask them to explain it to you.
So the former would be gross, like fuck any person who would do it; but at least I could be conscious of the fact that I am choosing to do an evil thing for the sake of, I don't know, stonks. I would be engaged in the process, my conscience would be involved despite being ignored, and I would hope I would feel disgusted with myself forever. (Even considering the possibility is kind of disgusting.) But slowly having your beliefs erode over time into something bad… how do you stop that? How do you do ANYTHING about that? Shit what if it's happening right now? Even if the shift was in the opposite direction and I slowly became a better person without trying… I guess that's good? Can't argue with it being a net positive? But it feels unearned and unreliable, if you can sleepwalk forward you can sleepwalk back.
So that's conscious vs. unconscious I guess. Also I wrote and revised a ton of words to answer the question so there's that too.
bird primary + burnt snake secondary
 tl;dr: Fairly sure I'm Lion primary (maybe burned Badger since I sort of envy the idea of close communities, or hedonistic Snake, not sure where that line is)
(the way that divide works out is that basically, Burnt Badgers look like Snakes. They have the Snake's small community, but wish they could cast their net wider. Hedonistic Snakes tend to be more solo, and much more focused on /stuff/. Also, both options make pretty good short-term coping mechanisms.)
but unsure whether my secondary is Bird, Snake/burned Snake, or burned Lion.
I love researching and reverse-engineering and my immediate response to situations is to Google advice, but reactively, not proactively. I am allergic to planning, and prepwork feels stifling and unnatural.
Ooooh, have we got a single-player Environment Snake? (I also think of these as MacGyver Snakes.) Basically just pulling at the things around you in order to solve the problem at hand.
I studied math in college then did a coding bootcamp, and I always felt adrift because both only taught memorizing solutions to individual problems/proofs, not how to solve unfamiliar ones -- i.e., really learning. 
However, I neither consider myself flexible nor want to be, and singleplayer Snake is wayyyyyyyyyyyy more comfortable than stuff involving other people. (Complicating factor: not neurotypical.)
I think I can say, pretty confidently, that this system works just fine if you're not neurotypical. :) There's no reason you have to use the multi-player version if you don't want. The most dramatic single/multi player divide is probably Bookkeeper Badger vs Courtier Badger, and there are lots of people who prefer being just one or the other.
I do the "faces" thing reflexively, in the moment, but it doesn't feel like "shifting" or "becoming" anything: just me, lying.
That's Snake. "Becoming" is more of a word that a Courtier Badger would use, they kinda do have to believe it, or it doesn't work. Snake secondaries are a lot more aware of what they're doing, in the moment.
It's interesting that you are just straight-up using the word lie though. In my experience, Snakes are more likely to conceptualize that particular problem-solving strategy as "say it in a way they'll listen to," or something like that. You might just be super direct (and/or like hanging out in Neutral) buuuut... the negativity of "lie" can sometimes point to a Burnt secondary. No sign of that yet, but I'll keep an eye out for it.
I don't have a moral problem with lying; it's often even right since a) telling the truth often hurts people, and b) people do prefer it: most people want to hear what they want to hear, and if that happens to be the truth that's great.
Hmmm. This is sounding like primary stuff. And it's quite reasoned out, which makes me interested in hearing why you went for Lion primary instead of Bird.
But deep down, I guess I resent it. I wish that when I say what I mean it would convince people rather than create problems. I try to ration that to only things that REALLY matter to me, but tbh many things do. I hate arguing.
What I'm hearing here is the Bird primary fantasy of "If I was only able to explain it exactly right, in precisely the right words, then everyone would agree with me." And as you say earlier, it doesn't actually work like that. It sounds like you're feeling a bit cynical in regards to other people a the moment, and I can't exactly blame you.
I would love to be an inspirational secondary but I am bad at inspiring people.
There is definitely some burnt secondary talk going on here.
Family: I'm not close to my father -- he’s a terrible person, serial cheater, racist, etc. I'm closer to my mother, and don't think she's a bad person, but both parents were hypercritical and have horrible tempers, so my childhood felt horrible to live through since I was always getting yelled at or having corporal punishment used for doing something wrong.
Definitely seeing where the burned secondary energy is coming from, if so many of your formative experiences involved being told that the way you were doing things was wrong. I also see why you might have at least a fascination with the confident, firey, speak-your-truth-and-damn-the-consequences Lion secondary.
(On paper this could be called abusive, and anyone else being subjected to this makes me furious, but I'm not fully comfortable with the label for my situation, even though I know that's inconsistent.) 
I understand, and I appreciate that. I also appreciate your carefully articulated position, and it's slanting me in the direction of Bird primary. Even though this is obviously a topic you are very emotional about, all those emotions are arranged within the framework of thought. You're aware of and okay the fact that you feel all kinds of different ways about what happened.
Any secondary model came from my mom, but I don't know about primary. She always says my sister and I are "the most important things in her life." (One of the reasons I don’t want kids is that I don’t think I could ever believe or promise them that.) She ostensibly also hates my father and their divorce was vicious, but she kept working for him until he retired, goes on trips with him to see my sister or me, and pressured me for years to un-estrange him because “after all, he’s family” until I gave in and now pretend to have a relationship just enough to placate them. I don't have any ethical problems doing this, it's just irritating.
That is very, very unusual family dynamic. Have to get my head around that. Your mom may have some very intense Badger going on, especially with the the whole "after all, he's family" thing. That could fit go with a nasty divorce, especially if she thought his presence was a threat to you and your sister. On the other hand, she might just be able to compartmentalize to an insane degree, which would probably point to Bird secondary.
I don't understand this aspect of my mom; I observe it happening, but I don't understand it. It feels kind of sad, in an existential way. 
Honestly, I agree.
(Another way my dad sucks is that he played favorites with my sister and I, me being the favorite.
Being the Golden Child sucks just as much as being the Problem Child.
The shitty resulting dynamic is I only "care about" his approval to avoid him creating drama that ripples to everyone around him -- he's gotten better but he has literally started shit when I didn't end emails with "love" -- but my sister actually cares about his approval, and it hurts her.)
Secondary-wise, my mom would always harp on me to "pay attention to the people and things around you," and whenever I tell her about solving problems in Snakeish ways she's like "way to go, [me]!" But she also is meticulously planned and scheduled and organized, and hates surprises and not knowing exactly what will happen. She's the kind of person who gets frustrated in April when I haven’t told her my Thanksgiving itinerary, which, like... I don't want to think that far ahead.
She could be either Prep-work secondary, Bird or Badger. If she's a Bird, "pay attention to the people and things around you," points to a a Rapid-Fire Bird (which can look *very* Snakey.) Or it could be a way of describing Courtier Badger. Being that scheduled is more often a Bird thing... but I could also imagine a Badger manifesting like that, especially if she is so concerned with specifically planning holidays.
Low-stakes/high-stakes problem that felt good: This is a high-stakes problem containing a low-stakes problem. I'm rolling them together because they illustrate both aspects of my problem solving.
Higher stakes: That coding bootcamp required being on Zoom 8 hours every day. But I had 3 roommates (part of why I did it was to not have 3 roommates), and they didn't want me there that much. I can't go to coffee shops because either they're loud, or I will make them loud by talking for 8 hours, thus becoming the problem. Coworking spaces are expensive af. I even consider renting a storage unit but I don't think they have power and wifi. The idea I settle on is sneaking onto a nearby college campus: preferably the CS building, to blend in. I scour the college subreddit for posts about what buildings let students in without ID, then scout them out (this is March, the thing doesn't start until May, I'm just high on must-solve-now energy). After ~15 minutes (lol) of walking through campus I decide I've had enough, seems doable. The day of, I leave early in case I have to give up and go home, but that turned out to be completely pointless because tailgating in is shockingly easy. Like it's scary how easy it is. One day a security officer stopped me but even he eventually let me in after I acted increasingly frazzled and panicked -- not ENTIRELY an act but I definitely was playing it up.
I like this story. And I feel good about saying that it is QUITE snakey: what do I have immediately around me, and how can I use it to get what I want in this moment? Even little details like - you're not bothering to come up with a cover story or borrow/forge someone's ID. If you're caught you'll talk your way out of it. You did a little research, then scoped the place out, then were good to go.
Lower stakes: I usually did classes from an empty auditorium (students weren't supposed to be there but no one checked, and also I'm not a student right?). The whiteboard's eraser stand was a few inches away from the wall, and one day I drop my phone in the gap. Shit. The gap's way too high to reach down. I can't ask anyone for help because I'm already 2 layers deep of being somewhere I'm not supposed to be. The stand screws to the wall, but I don't have a screwdriver because who just carries a screwdriver around? (For whatever reason, going to a hardware store didn't occur to me.) I stare at the thing until I realize: I am literally in the ENGINEERING building. I search various offices, ask people for a screwdriver, but no luck. Then I see a board listing the departments. One floor has a "makerspace," and somehow, its door is wide open (the student lounge is locked down but the room with deadly power tools isn't, ???) I grab 5 sizes of screwdriver, then also grab duct tape and a ruler to fish my phone out in case the screwdrivers don't work, which turned out to be a good idea because they didn't
Sounds to me to me like you just MacGyvered a solution :D
One thing I am picking up on is your subtle critique of the existing rules/systems. Getting in via tailgateing is easier than it should be, talking your way past the guard was too easy. The door with the powertools really should be locked, etc. It's making me (again) think Bird primary for you. You've very tuned into the way things run, and how well designed (or not) that is. There's also just a little bit of Birdy rules-lawyer in "Students aren't allowed in this room, but I'm not a student (because I snuck in.)"
Hard decision-making process…. I don’t know. I don’t experience many decisions as hard. I often know what I want to do right away; the difficult part is doing it.
In the language of this system, that's a Burnt secondary.
Or I know what I should do, am obligated to do, have no choice but to do, etc., though sometimes it feels miserable or wrong, like resignation.
Unfortunately that is what it feels like to have a Burnt primary - you just use whatever problem-solving strategy you can at random, since they all feel like a chore and it doesn't really matter.
I can feel proud of making certain "right" choices in an abstract self-congratulatory way, but I never like it or really feel good about it. I either act on something immediately or put it off until the decision makes itself, a drop-dead deadline approaches, I get bored/impulsive enough to do it on the spot, or I suddenly swerve my life toward something I like better.
You're definitely an Improvisational secondary. Which is really fine, even though I know it doesn't feel that way all the time when you come from a family of intense Prep-work people. Just keep an eye on that 'wait until the deadline' impulse. It's very, very common for neurodivergent people to use that last-minute stress adrenaline to kind of hack their brain, and it's not sustainable.
I'd wanted to change careers for years but the actual decision to do the bootcamp was an impulse based on ~3 hours' research the day I encountered it.
That can absolutely work though. You *are* working on the problem and mulling it over in your head long term, even if you are (in the words of another snake secondary) "waiting for the opportune moment."
This is all healthy and well-adjusted, and it definitely has never caused any predictable problems! (Did get a job though.)
Hey, if it's stupid and it works, it's not stupid.
My fantasy: To be successful and well-known in my field; to create the kind of art I want to create and have it be respected/influential. To live the life I want, with the aesthetic I want, and the opportunities from others and follow-through from me to achieve that. The details vary based on the field but that's the general template. 
I'd say that's a very human fantasy, without too many details that slant me one way or the other, in terms of this system. There's definitely a focus on the community around you and how you relate to it/integrate into it. And that makes me think Bird (the external primary) is more likely than Lion (the internal primary.)
Characters: I relate to characters who are flawed in the same ways I am -- they feel like cautionary tales -- or sometimes via empathizing in a way the story doesn’t (Carlotta from Phantom got done DIRTY).
It's interesting that you respond to characters who the narrative framing doesn't support, because the narrative framing doesn't support them. I guess that does fit with your interest in constructed systems, and if they're useful/functional or not. Which points to Bird.
On that big pop culture character test I always get Hannah from Girls and Gaius Baltar from Battlestar Galactica: harsh, but not wrong.
(I always get Inara from Firefly and Céline from Before Sunrise.)
It's been a second since I've seen Girls or Battlestar Galactica, but I do think that both of those characters are Bird Snakes, which is honestly impressive since Bird Snakes are easily the least common fictional archetype.
Baltar is clever, adaptive, reactive, he pulls from around him. He also bluffs and will *act* like he's an expert when he really isn't. A lot of his internal conflict revolves around extremely Bird primary rationalization - is this situation really his fault? and if it is, what is he morally/rationally supposed to do about it (if anything?) "Voice of *a* generation" Hannah also has this way of getting caught in her own feedback loops when trying to figure herself out. One of my favorite moments is the bit where she loses her purse on the way back from the wedding, and then rides the train all the way to Coney Island, sits on the beach and eats the slice of wedding cake while watching the sun rise. I think that's beautiful, and a very Snake secondary response.
I also gravitate toward a specific archetype: Blanche from A Streetcar Named Desire, Madame Bovary, Violetta from La Traviata. People who desire an impossible thing deeply and unshakably, temporarily achieve it, and are taken down dramatically.
Now that, I'm thinking is a story structure that you like. And/or you're drawn to these tragic great ladies, living most of the way in a fantasy world. It's a good, cathartic archetype.
What makes me feel powerful: I don’t really resonate with that framing. The closest is that feeling like I have no options is the same for me as feeling powerless.
Okay, "not feeling powerless," I'll take it. And we're back to that Burnt secondary again. I'm hoping you'll leave your Snake a little more room to breathe and play, because it seems like you're a pretty capable person. You manage to do the things you want to get done, and you have an excellent awareness of what are good and bad situations, both for you and just in general.
Thank you to anonymous for such an excellent submission. If you'd like a Sorting of your very own, commissions are open on my ko-fi. :D
If you'd like to read more about the system I'm using, my explanation is right here.
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thegildedfantasy · 5 months ago
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I love it when Malekh, my vampire lord, will kill multiple people in the blink of an eye and apologise when he's done something to hurt those he loves.
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onyourstageleft · 6 days ago
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I'm going to be a certified library professional in a few short weeks, I have a solid understanding of the need to read broadly and should have a strong personal commitment to doing so, but more often than not, I end up reading fanfic for the one relatively obscure YA universe that has engrained itself into my very being rather than reading literally anything else and I don't know how to feel about it
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kaerinio · 12 days ago
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also, i'm taking my mom to london for christmas, and we're spending it with my partner's family. but !!! i'm putting together a list of things for us to do together, and i am so heckin' excited because she never got to visit me while i was living there, and now i get to show her what my life looked like and why i loved living there so much. 🥹
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giantkillerjack · 2 years ago
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BBC Ghosts: This is the Captain. As a former commanding officer in WWII, he has a need for control humorously juxtaposed with the inherent impotence of being a ghost. His buttoned-up nature also serves as a metaphor for his repressed feelings as a gay man, masking a sensitivity that comes through in his gentle kindness toward others.
American version of Ghosts: Remember Tobias Fünke from Arrested Development? Imagine if he was constantly shitting himself.
Posted with permission from a text my partner sent me.
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a-deceived-pigeon · 7 months ago
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5/6/24 12:17pm
I can’t post this on the other account because she’ll see it but do you ever have a conversation with a bunch of your friends about risk and money percentages to which your actuarial friend says that your risk is lower if you were married
THEN you say you wouldn’t mind a marriage of convenience and think about fake proposing to your other friend beside you who feels, though you are both whole by yourselves, like the other half of you, that you’ve had several dreams about marrying or being in a relationship with, and that you would happily spend the rest of your life with because each parting is tortuous and long and maybe can’t be fully explained by Midwesterner’s goodbyes but then you decide “No I can’t do that.”
THEN you turn to her and she took off her fidget ring and is holding it out to you asking you “Do you want to marry me?” as a JOKE, which you were going to do but STILL
And you really REALLY want to say yes and your eyes feel alight and you feel a smile but instead you go along with the joke and say “I was going to ask you the same thing!” And just laugh with her but then feel incredibly off put, thinking you were going to say “yes” and mean it happily to live and go through life together and wonder if any of it felt real on her end? Or maybe what that means for you?
Anyway!
~Nico
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binders-and-beanies · 20 days ago
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Not being able to vote makes me extra sensitive to discussions of the election tbh like. People who don’t have to fight super hard to vote don’t see the value in it, *because* their vote isn’t suppressed. So I wish that people who do have that privilege would use it to help out those of us who can’t (both within and outside of the US). But instead eligible voters just yell at us for even *trying* unsuccessfully to vote blue. Like are you happy? Are you satisfied about marginalized people not getting to vote? What is the result you’re hoping for
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secondpersonpoetry · 1 month ago
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you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 
oh. oh.
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#don’t think i’ve read this kim addonizio poem and it just blindsided me like a truck thank you so much#i. oh god. like yeah.#pour me shitfaced into your car i feel like you own a comforter extremely dysfunctional only in surface details like which person was the#black hole and the distant spark in space that might’ve been a star there’s something too with unrelenting mist / many-headed mist / missed#who knew mis(t)/sed had undone so many. while you keep an eye on the burner here’s hoping this flame doesn’t go out#the flame as in the spark as in don’t let me have pinned my hopes on you to watch it burn out again but also me. like please let me not go#and i think there’s something there too with the repetitive ‘i have just met you’ and i already love you that reminds me both of a story#colman domingo told abt meeting his partner i cry everytime i hear it right when he says ‘i think i love u &you’re about to change my life’#and i KNOW there’s another poem. and i feel like it maybe has a dog and it talks about how they don’t even know you but they love you#OH IT’S ALSO. OH MY GOD THAT’S IT. i mean not exactly so maybe i have read this before & it’s what has been haunting me for so long but#the opening line to tim seibles naïve is ‘i love you but i don’t know you’ - mennonite woman#the odds of that dog poem being a carl phillips poem is non-zero btw. his poems about dogs make me see shrimp colors (bertuzzi thesis)#ANYWAY. agreed. this is incredibly hockey and incredibly hurtful because they DO bond like this in 0.0001 seconds because if you can’t#you’re fucked. you have to just find somebody and fall in love with them and it’s the salmon and the triple cream brie like they got taken#out to some fancy meet the donors team night in their suits and one of them is dealing with a heartbreak and a trade and are the things#they think true or are they just missing what the used to have. jamie who used to empty and refill the ice tray YES sorry i have been a#little bit thinking that about the trevor dealing so poorly with the breakup and i wish i had another narrative (which i do) but it fits#trade deadline tragedy#and also the formation of a codependent rookies like. two guys that get drafted and brought up together and suddenly they’re doing#everything together and it’s your first time in the big show and none of your old college friends understand because they’re not there#and you can’t get it. like you think you know but they can’t understand and the loneliness and it IS guys taking care of each other#(alexa play harriet by hey rosetta! but specifically the bridge) and it’s just. i just!!! trying to fill up the missing pieces of your life#like i cannot convey WHOMST i am trying to pin this narrative to this is going to rotate for a long while i think#because it’s not a wild i fell in love with you at first sight it’s a you were kind to me when i was broken. and i love you for that.#like who is FALLING APART &happens to fall into someone else’s arms. purely for the partygirl aspect the devil (old hrpf) says ‘13 bennguin#who among us hasn’t fallen mildly briefly brilliantly in love with a stranger and imagined a future where you get everything you want#sometimes we love people for who they are and sometimes we love them for what we’re not and sometimes for who we think they’ll be#this was a very long way to say thank you for sharing <3 i will also be making this about my hockey guys <3#OH MY GOD IT’S DPAIRS. WHO’S BEEN THROUGH SEVERAL DPAIRS#nonny <3
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tumblingxelian · 1 day ago
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Oh I have been looking FORWARD to this!!!
Excellent in media res opening, you get us into Fu's insecurities & head-space so smoothly and his ensuing logic, along with setting up Trixx's gambit which I am super curious about to say the least!
As before, more excellent in media res, flashbacks are hard to use but you set it up so smoothly without disrupting the frantic nature of the fight or how off balance Marinette is without a partner this early in her career. It makes sense Marinette's just been low key happy but also not noticing Chloe's absence from her life and is only keying in now, the little details are nice touches as Marinette is a very detail oriented person but one with a heavy reliance on her gut.  Chloe's continuing meltdown outside of the façade Purrge allows her to keep up came off really well, the "I know, I suck!" aspect was especially telling, I like Bustier making an effort though clearly being out of her depth given the circumstances. Also gosh, Chloe hissing XD
Adrien: So the Cat Miraculous does make us behave more like cats! Plagg: No, no I do not, don't pin this on me kid. Chloe: (Climbing to the highest place to hiss at people more)
Also nice to see the rest of the class showing some agency and activity on their own without prompting from the MCs, and that whole bit with Marinette nominating Alya only to realize Alya wasn't gonna nominate her was great, I loved their dialogue exchange they are so witty and fun and oooh the confused ball of Adrien feelings, I love it!
Solid break out from the flashback too, and a very smooth introduction with Fu, I love her not realizing his age due to the Miraculous mask effect and his dialogue. I dunno, I just really like how you write his manner of speech. Also more Adrien feels! Fu's method of just leaving Miraculous with people who's vibes are right may come back to bite him XD
"That which was not known could not be pursued, much less caught."
As before I love the distinct manner in which he comes off with, everyone has their own voices, but Fu's is perhaps the most distinct which makes sense given his age and life experience. Sewer Hat Boy, another victim of the Miraculous mask effect and I love the manner in which Chloe is described, very much feels like a feline in human form. The fight itself was awesome, Fu's general nervousness really did not serve him well (Overall) in this fight, constantly over-thinking and fretting and then losing himself in a flashback while Chloe's turned off everything but fight mode. The swapping of the Cataclysm was an inspired idea and gods:
“Five minutes left to show you just how big of a mistake you’ve made.”
Is such a badass line and mental image!!!
Great intro with Adrien's scene, smoothly setting up Nino's upcoming presence and I love the Marinette ramble slipping out as Ladybug! Also gosh his minimal self worth and wow, thinking he can get the Black Cat back even without a Miraculous of his own, optimism bordering on delusion there I'm afraid.
Very swift intro with the Snake and Aspik, it makes sense to skip it even if I was curious, also love Marinette oscillating between her LB person and Marinette vibes. Also oh dear, he went with the bald cap again and aaaah you fools why did you separate, that didn't work out last time now did it!?
Holy fuck that was brutal, easily her most heartbreaking Adrien chapter, this whole experience is borderline cosmic horror in terms of vibes as a thousand truths overlay and his perceptions crumble, heavy stuff! "Would that have been what made her give it back?" That is still your focus my boi?!
Nino is such a ride or die guy, I love him, great sensation work for Adrien and oooh setting up a future conversation that I really wanna see!
& Trixx is here, to make us all cheer, because oh so many questions now rear! I lost the rhyming scheme but suffice to say excellent lead out location, loved all of this! 
Crossing Blades: An ML Fanfic Chapter 1 of 3
Next installment in my Chloe goes back in time AU! Link to AO3, then full text of the chapter below the cut.
Crossing Blades
The warning continued to blare on the ancient radio. It almost overrode the sounds of panic coming through the thin windows and walls of the backroom apartment. Wang Fu paced like a caged animal, twisting the bracelet on his wrist over and over. Beside him Wayzz hung in the air, concerned but silent.
Master Fu stopped in place, eyes narrowed at some unseen ghosts of the past, or future. “I must act. Wayzz, shell on!”
In a flash of green, casual clothing was replaced with armor and mask. Jade Turtle stepped up to the gramophone with determination in his manner. Tap, taptap, tap. Out came the miracle box.
Ignoring the two that remained on the top layer, he reached into a side drawer and took out the snake miraculous. He paused only once, turning away with the green band in hand. Is this the correct path? A life of running had not prepared him for a fight.
Without looking back, Jade Turtle closed the miracle box. The snap of the lid renewed his flagging conviction. This was right. He could bring things back under control and set them in balance once more.
If only he had looked back, he might have seen the fox tail necklace judder and bounce. He might have seen it hop from the box and hook itself to the back of his belt. He might have seen the little fox kwami blinking into existence, the culprit behind the jewelry’s odd behavior, then blink out again.
But, he did not.
-----------------
Ladybug ducked between two buildings. She had no idea if the narrow alleyway was a dead end, she just needed breathing room. Squads of black armored knights marched up and down the streets, attacking anyone caught outside at will. Dark clouds painted the sky, casting everything into deep shadows.
She believed the source to be at city hall, a new akuma -of course- but she needed more to go on. She also needed a partner. She was *this* close to wishing for the Miraculous thief to show up, just to have someone watch her back against the legion of minions this akuma commanded.
To think, this morning had seemed like such a big deal only a few hours ago.
“Good morning everyone. Before we start for today, it’s time to elect your class representative.” Ms. Bustier had spoken in a chipper but uncertain tone. She gestured to Chloé in the front seat, “Chloé, I haven’t heard from Sabrina yet, but can we count on the two of you again this year?”
“What?” a muddled reply came, “No, ugh. I don’t want to be stupid representative anymore. Someone else do it.”
That had brought Marinette out of her own thoughts. Chloé had been weird lately, but Marinette had had her own problems to deal with. However, passing up prestige, not being the bigwig in the room? That was something else entirely. Marinette looked down at the back of Chloé’s head. Was the ponytail frizzed today? There was body language there that felt off, the set of her shoulders wasn’t right. Marinette had gotten good at reading Chloé’s moods in self defense.
Ms. Bustier’s lips made a surprised ‘oh’ and she looked up,”Well does anyone else want to run for the position?”
The kind of absolute silence that can only come from asking for a volunteer echoed back at her.
Ms. Bustier clasped her hands and tried again, “Chloé, why not be representative again this year? You know the most about it. You’re right here at the front of the room too. If things are a bit hectic, I’m sure we can work something out…”
“I said No!” Chloé slammed her palms down on the desk and stood up so fast Sabrina fell off the bench as it moved. “If being at the front means I have to do it, FINE!”
She grabbed her bag and stalked back to the rear of the room. All eyes followed her but no one dared say a word. Rose scooted closer to Juleka. Ivan’s brows lowered as she passed. Nathaniel’s eyes began to widen as she approached his desk.
*Thump* She shoved her bag onto it. Nathaniel’s eyes darted, he seemed paralyzed. Chloé’s face flushed for a moment then she grabbed his sketchbook from the desk.”You sit in the front now!”
The hurled sketchbook opened in mid-flight like a wounded bird, flapping and spinning until it landed on the front desk then skittered off the other side to the floor. Ms. Bustier’s eyes tracked its entire flight. There was one more beat of silence then she looked up.
“Ms. Bourgeois, that is no way to-”
“I know I know. I suck, whatever. Shut up. I’m in the back now, I can’t be the rep. Someone else do it.” Chloé dropped herself onto the bench beside Nathaniel, who fell off the other side, scrambling to escape.
He scuttled down to the front. Ms. Bustier met him and handed him his sketchbook with a gentle, ”Please put this away during the lesson, Nathaniel.” before looking up to the back. “Ms. Bourgeois, see me after class.”
An honest to God hiss was her answer to that.
Ms. Bustier quickly replaced the serene mask she normally wore, “So, it appears the field is indeed wide open. Would no one else like to take the reins and lead our class to the future?”
Alya’s elbow dug lightly into Marinette’s side. “You should do it,” her friend whispered.
Marinette bit her lip. It would be work, more work on top of Ladybug. She didn’t want to let anyone down either. She was always late, even before the miraculous. Surely someone else could do it, right?
“I don’t have time. Why don’t you try it?” Marinette whispered back.
“La-dy Blog,” Alya sing-songed. “Come on, maybe you could get Adrien to be your assistant.”
That sparked a whole ball of feelings. Imagined black cat ears popped into being atop Adrien’s head in Marinette’s mind. Adrien, Cat Noir, a chance to be partners again?
“Mylene!” Alix broke the silence that had settled again.
The redhead gave the girl beside her a friendly shove.
“You’re always into political stuff. Why don’t you do it?”
Mylene smiled for a second before shrinking in her seat. “I umm, don’t know. I’ve never actually been in charge of anything before.”
Alix leaned grinned down at Ms. Bustier, “I nominate Mylene! We can do that, right?”
The relief was clear on the teacher’s face, “Yes! Yes of course, nominations are allowed, though they need to be accepted.”
“Cool. Then that. I nominate. Come on, Mylene. Show us what you got.”
After a look towards Ivan, and another downcast fidget in her seat, Mylene finally nodded.
Marinette sagged with relief. That was taken care-
Alya’s voice, “Well, I nomi-”
A storm of images hit Marinette. Pressure, uncertainty, working with Adrien, not working with Adrien. Mylene working with Adrien, of all the oddball things.
She shot to her feet, “I nominate Alya!”
There was a general classwide blink.
Ms. Bustier nodded, “Alya, would you accept?”
Alya missed a beat, but recovered. “Yeah, sure. That way we get an election, right?” She leaned around Marinette, “We’ll highlight important issues with our speeches, right Mylene?”
Mylene brightened, “Yes, of course!”
There was a general murmur of excitement. Marinette took her seat again, giving Alya a smug look before whispering, “Beat you to it.”
Alya raised an eyebrow. “Girl, I was gonna nominate Adrien. You already said you didn’t want to. I figured it could work the other way too.”
Marinette’s triumphant smile melted into sadness. She slumped face first onto the desk. Alya patted her gently on the back.
“I dunno what about Mr. Modelpants does it for you, but I was trying to help.”
Marinette mumbled against the wood, “You got my vote.” She pushed herself upright and looked down to the row in front of them. “He just seems… nice. I think he deserves a chance.”
Alya’s snort was anything but subtle, “A chance with you, that is quite a reward.”
Marinette went instantly red. “I didn’t- I mean-”
Alya laid a hand on her shoulder, “Relax, girl. I got you.”
“You can speak at my funeral when I die of embarrassment,” Marinette groused.
“I will move the crowds to tears.” Alya nodded solemnly.
Much needed giggles slipped from Marinette’s lips. A sharply cleared throat cut her reply short though.
“Miss Cesaire, you will be ready to deliver your speech in the morning?” Ms. Bustier asked pointedly.
Alya saluted. “Yes Ma’am.”
At the time it had all seemed so important.
Breather over, Ladybug considered her options. She wasn’t even sure where the akuma was. City Hall seemed a good bet. The roving packs of armored warriors were a risk. One on one, she trusted her miraculous enhanced reflexes, but five on one? Ten? She wished for Cat Noir. In a moment of weakness she even felt she would settle for the thief. She needed someone to watch her back. She needed a partner.
A flash of motion -above!- Ladybug lashed out and dodged.
Spang!
Her yo-yo rebounded off the wide-brimmed metal hat of a green glad warrior. “Hold, Ladybug! I am ally, not foe!”
Ladybug kept her yo-yo at the ready. “Ally? Who are you?”
He raised his head, revealing the green mask and a smile. “I am the Guardian of the Miraculous. You may call me Jade Turtle.”
She sized him up quickly. Her height, her age? It was impossible to tell much from behind a mask. He held himself with poise, but also hunched like his namesake, as if awaiting a blow. “Guardian? What is that? Do you know what’s going on?”
He bowed his head a fraction, “I do, and I will share what I can with you once the crisis has passed. I have brought you the means to garner an ally in this battle.”
He unhooked a small box from his belt and opened it. Inside lay an unassuming bracelet of Jade.
“This is the Miraculous of the snake, which holds the power of intuition. It will allow the wearer to loop time, up to five minutes, to find the correct path to victory. Give it to one you trust.”
Adrien. The name popped instantly into Ladybug’s mind. She could have her partner back. She reached for the box but paused. “Will you be fighting with us too?”
Jade Turtle shook his head, “I am here to reclaim what is lost. I expect the black cat will make an appearance, and I will be ready. It is vital the miraculous not fall into the wrong hands.”
Ladybug took the box. Something nagged the back of her mind, but it didn’t translate properly and only, “Are you sure?” left her lips.
Jade Turtle nodded and ran his fingers along the brim of his metal hat. “Yes, almost as sure as I was in choosing you to be Ladybug.”
With that he turned and vaulted up out of the alley to the rooftops.
The box was heavy in Ladybug’s hand as her eyes lingered after the only person with any answers to her questions. Adrien. I can get this to Adrien. No rooftops for me though. I can’t risk being seen and followed.
Ladybug checked the end of the alleyway and then scurried back towards school, and she hoped, an ally.
--------------------------------------
Jade Turtle moved quickly as possible, keeping to the shadows. Avoiding being seen was still an ingrained habit. That which was not known could not be pursued, much less caught. The city swarmed with units of armored knights marching in formations. They were a concern, but also, he suspected, the perfect bait. His instincts proved correct. Commotion, running soldiers, and sounds of battle drew him to his quarry. 
The new holder of the black cat stood in a swath of carnage. Fallen knights littered the ground like leaves, but there was a lull. Only one knight still stood, sword held robotically en garde against her.
Jade Turtle's eyes scanned the scene quickly. He broke cover, “No! Wait!”
Too late. The black cat moved, slipping the knight's stiff guard and lashing out. Claws tore metal and everything beneath with equal ease. The knight crumpled into the pile.
“You! You! They are being controlled by the akuma! They are innocent people!”
She seemed to register only slowly. Feline disinterest painted across her sharp features. “Who are you supposed to be? Sewer Hat Boy?”
He raised his own guard as he approached. He knew better than to trust the languid curiosity in those mismatched eyes. “My name is unimportant. My purpose is to reclaim the black cat from you. You are not the one destined to hold it.” He directed a pointed glance down to the fallen bodies. “And you paint yourself unworthy by deed as well.”
She tilted her head slowly, then kicked the body at her feet. “They’ll be fine once stupid Ladybug does her thing. As for my miraculous, oh just you try to take it.”
Jade Turtle steeled himself and dropped into a fighting stance. “As you wish. These bones may be old, but they know many secrets.”
With the moment at hand Jade Turtle hesitated, how best to attack? He must strip the ring from her hand. Protection would be the key. He cou-
There was no warning in her eyes, no tension in her stance, none of the things he had learned to look for. She dropped into a hunched run, legs powering her into a lurching drunken charge that devoured the space between them.
Jade turtle jerked backwards. A clawed swipe slashed through the air where his throat had been. Another lunged for his eyes.
Block. Block. Redirect. Turn. Clear roo- no she was on him again. Catch. Twist. Her whole body moved as bonelessly as her namesake, spinning her whole body in the air around the pivot of his wristlock. Her claw toed boot scored lines in his metal hat.
Jade Turtle tried to disengage. He just needed space, time. She dogged his every move. He was being chased again, chased across the street just as he had been chased his whole life. Flashbacks warred with reality. His foe lunged and it wasn’t a child, it was a grown man in a black leather uniform with a very different meaning. Jade Turtle had been helpless then, he wasn’t now.
He lashed out and struck the man a deeply deserved killing blow to the sternum. Contact evaporated the memory. The child collapsed the ground in its place, but rebounded impossibly.
“So that’s how it is…” She gritted through clenched fangs. “Cataclysm!”
He’d lost control! Dodge. Dodge. Stagger. Dodge. Dodge. Backpedal. Something in that heterochromic gaze dredged up every fear from his two centuries of running. He couldn’t- he needed- She wouldn’t give him room.
“Protection!”
Instinct took over when reason fled. He met her next swipe and caught her just inside the wrist. The turtle Miraculous did the rest. A bubble of Green around that black death-clad hand.
He panted, keeping her wrist held firmly. ”Now… I’ve got you. Surrender. You can not-”
The Cataclysm vanished.
Motion.
Jade Turtle flinched and it saved his life.
Her free hand came around, sparking with destruction. It met the dipping edge of his shield hat and blasted it apart in an instant. The feedback robbed him of his senses and strength. Jade turtle fell. He sensed more than saw the shadow looming over him.
“Five minutes left to show you just how big of a mistake you’ve made.”
----------------------------------------------------------
The difference five minutes could make; a million times over.
“Adrien!”
Adrien skidded to a stop at the sound of that voice. He cast a quick glance back over his shoulder, it looked like he had finally lost them. He turns his gaze skyward just as Ladybug landed beside him.
She unclipped a small box from her hip as she straightened up, holding it out.  “Am I glad to see you! I looked at your house first and you weren’t there, so then I checked the school. You weren't there either, so I tried all the streets in between and-”
She paused, withdrawing the box slightly.
“What are you doing out here?”
Adrien looked down, rubbing the back of his head. “Well, I thought, I mean I hoped, maybe I might still be useful. If I could, maybe at least find the akuma and report back.”
Or find Chloé and get the cat back. Or anything just to not be a disappointment. Well, not a disappointment to her. He was pretty sure Alya and Nino wouldn’t be happy with him for running off. He had glimpsed Nino running after him, even.
Ladybug made a soft sound in her throat, “Adrien, you’re amazing,” his heart swelled, “I don’t want you to be running around without a miraculous though. It’s dangerous out here. It’s a miracle you haven’t been caught and turned into one of these knight-zombie things. That’s why-”
Adrien looked up, sure the axe would fall now. He couldn’t account for the color on Ladybug’s cheeks, or the softness when she held the box out again.
“That’s why I’ve got something for you. It’s the snake Miraculous. With it you can help me again. We can defeat this akuma, get back your miraculous, and stop Hawkmoth!”
She’d laid out the snake’s powers. Sass had been more reserved than Plagg, but polite. When Adrien had transformed into Aspik he’d thought he’d caught Ladybug giggling behind her hand, but she flashed him a big smile nonetheless. She even rubbed his new costume’s smooth head ‘for Luck’. The plan was simple, split up and circle City Hall north and south. See what could be seen and meet up on the other side.
That had been less than ten minutes ago.
It had been months ago.
Aspik had spotted Chloé midway through his sweep. She ran on rooftops, wielding the power of the black cat, his power. The power he’d lost. He had the perfect chance to get it back, as many chances as needed. Aspik had activated Second Chance and altered his course. He couldn’t fail.
Reset. Come from the right. Reset. Try the left. Reset. Try reasoning. Reset. Threatening. Reset. Bargaining. Reset. Fight. Reset. Angry. Reset. Screaming. Reset. Go for the ring. Reset. Go for a knockout. Reset. Try to call Ladybug. Reset. Ladybug arrives on her own and catches a cataclysm. Reset. Reveal who he is. Reset. Again. Reset. Again. Reset. Reset. Reset. He’s hanging over the edge of a roof, danglinging from her grip on his wrist. The last light is blinking on the bracelet. He can’t reach- She smirks and twists the bracelet for him. Reset. Reset. Reset. Something is happening. Reset. The world feels thin. Reset. Spots at the edges of his vision. Reset. No, spots in the sky. Reset. Destruction. Reset. Cataclysm lingering. Reset. Wearing away these five minutes like a thread pulled back and forth through the eye of a needle too many times. Reset. He can’t fail! Reset. He has to prove- Reset. To Ladybug. Reset. He is-
Falling…
He can’t remember what he said this time. He can’t remember who threw the first punch. A thousand thousand truths overlap and spill out, covering his senses.  There’s only one consistency. He lost, again.
Aspik hits the pavement hard. A storm of black lightning tears at the sky for three, two, one. The snake Miraculous chirps one last warning and powers down. The storm vanishes. Time, no longer abused, marches on. It leaves him behind again. Chloé didn’t even spare him the benefit of a backward glance this time. Would it have even mattered if she did? Would seeing him defeated by her hand again have been the right or wrong thing to do? Would it have made her pause? Would that have been what made her give it back?
He feels numb. The street is a too-hard bed but he feels like he could sleep for a decade if he just closed his eyes. The overcast clouds no longer threaten the end, but are still a reminder of the akuma at large.
“Adrien!” Nino’s voice is so out of place it takes a moment for Adrien to recognize it.
Adrien turns his head, still not ready to move beyond that, to watch his friend rushing headlong down the empty street. Nino? Why are you here? It’s dangerous. Too dangerous.
“Dude! Are you okay? Can you stand?” Nino drops to one knee and tries to haul Adrien to his feet.
The answers quickly present themselves. No, and No. Adrien is beyond exhausted. His legs won’t hold him. He stumbles into Nino. His throat feels like sandpaper. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you, dude.” Nino loops Adrien’s arm over his shoulders and tries to take on more of the weight. Adrien’s legs still aren’t cooperating.
Ha. Hero saved by a civilian. But then, what’s the difference? Adrien found the strength to push Nino off gently, but not the strength to keep standing once he had. He sat down hard, but pulled the Snake Miraculous off his wrist.  A weary Sass sprang into being, hovering low in the air.
Nino blinked, ”Dude?”
Adrien waved him off with a floppy hand. “No time. Ladybug needs help. Defeat the Akuma. Tell Sass ‘Scales Slither.’ Bracelet resets things. Five minutes tops. Help Ladybug.”
Nino’s eyes darted between Sass and the bracelet Adrien was holding out in a trembling hand. Shock and fear each had a turn, but determination was right on their heels. He took the bracelet from Adrien’s hand, “I’ll try.”
Adrien remembered, “Get the cat back for Ladybug, if you can.”
Sass managed to perk some, and the transformation worked. Snake-clad Nino turned in the direction Adrien pointed, but before leaping away called back over his shoulder, “You have so much explaining to do, dude.”
And with that, he was gone.
Adrien fell back onto his back, ready to let the darkness of sleep take him, hopefully before more knights showed up.  Instead a new, high pitched, scratchy voice reached his ears.
“Hey. Hey you. I’ve got a proposition for you. We can both help each other out.”
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