#no i am not mad at you for making this because it's so brilliant don't mind me being a BITCH AND SCREAMINGAIUSJDIUASKJDSJADAUYSHD

[acid-ixx]

I have a question, well 2 questions to be exact that’s been rattling around in my head since I started reading platonic yandere batfam fics, why would reader stay in Gotham? I’d be sneakily stealing as much money as I could without getting caught as soon as I reach a “fuck these guys” mentality. Like, asking to have some money for groceries or something and just pocketing it so that I could get a bus ticket and leave the city. Would you do it if you were reader? It just makes sense to me “this place sucks, these people suck, I’ve gotten enough to leave”, this is with me assuming that reader has the means of course, if the reader doesn’t then okay, yeah that makes sense

And my second question, do you ever feel resentful towards Alfred when you read batfam photonic yandere content? I do sometimes, especially when the reader is neglected. I know this might sound odd but when I read these fics I recognize that Alfred could do more, out of everyone in the manner, I think Alfred’s word carries the most weight, especially with Bruce due to him raising Bruce. I also notice in some batfam fics that the reader doesn’t get mad at him due to him giving them attention, but idk it feels kinda like a slap to the face, knowing that I don’t have the power but he does and yet not exercising it until I’ve burned every last tie to that family.

I know my thoughts are a more “well you’re on the outside looking in” type takes, but idk, it hurts my heart knowing that if reader stays in that city, it will be far more easier for the batfam to find them, where if they were outside the city, they’d have a fighting chance to make a new life for themselves

On a side note, I think we are underutilizing the angst potential of reader legally changing their name and the batfam not knowing until months or even years later when reader leaves. Like Bruce and the fam would just have to sit and realize that reader hates/dislikes/doesn’t care about them enough to legally change their name from Wayne to whatever reader chooses. Jason was Batman’s greatest failure, but Reader would be Bruce’s greatest failure, and what a delightful public failure it would be if the tabloids were to somehow find out that one of Bruce Wayne’s biological children changed their legal name

I’m loving your batfam content btw, like it makes me want to create one of those “screw therapy, I need to fist fight my dad” tiktoks and tag Bruce Wayne, that’s what I can phenomenal writing!! And sorry for making this so long! Hope you have a great existence!

slight spoilers for future chapters.

this is one of my favorite asks... anon, you are so brilliant because your two questions tie into the reader's character so well and the flaws that they (you) conjured from years of neglect, so i hope my answers would suffice (i am answering based on the perspective of the reader from my series: again & again with a bit of my own perspective). tysm for sending this in, i actually really enjoy long asks and appreciate it when people take the time to send me these things!

why would the reader stay in gotham?

chapter one wasn't all the detailed about why they stayed in gotham. firstly, their self-worth had them reason that in no way, shape, or form would their family that basically estranged them would come running to them, especially not when the only time the reader could even stumble across them is by some miracle of coincidence. this also ties into their lack of knowledge about their family. sure, they know that babs is the oracle but do they know just how much access she has across gotham? not really. they know tim, like bruce, has a tendency to collect information about other people, but they don't know that they have contingency plans to be creeped out enough to get away from gotham and from their reach.

"it's not like tim or bruce or barbara considered you important enough to be stalked. hah, as if!"

and the third point is, despite bruce being a billionaire of some sort, it was stated that the reader was too well-behaved and quiet. how does this make sense? as you've stated, they wouldn't simply have the means to get out. seeing as they were sheltered by alfred and never really explored the concept of traveling far away, they never asked for money; the only advantage of being a wayne is having quite a lot of things served on a silver platter.

they have this sort of toxic bond for staying with the people who have hurt them and it materialized to them physically staying despite knowing it would only cause more pain than anything else, and they don't know that. plus, they'd rather not have the wayne name associated with them and getting money from cheques or credit cards would be too risky for the reader's safety.

they've only realized just how shitty their family is after more than 10-13 years of staying in the manor, and saving up to move to an entirely different place would be difficult, alongside college and the jobs they have to take. so the next best thing they could do is rely on any means of advantage they could get whilst also moving on to the path of self-discovery and recovery.

but that doesn't mean they're staying in gotham forever, definitely not. the moment the reader realizes that dick gained some sort of interest towards them, they're booking it out of gotham. preferably to metropolis or central city or even somewhere far, far away— they're naive, but not stupid. sudden interest towards them means danger rather than anything else. and they're aware that alfred is capable enough to pull strings, so that's why spoiler alert: they have a secret stash of money hidden somewhere and like any children of bruce, they inherited the capability to be smart enough to already back up their contacts and everything on their phone, buy a burner phone and even change their entire identity in one quick go right after they move into an entirely different city or country.

gotham is merely their practice course.

do you ever feel resentment towards alfred?

quite frankly, yes. the reader in the fic feels resentment towards everyone for a reason actually, but alfred's part was stated vaguely as to not spoil a future chapter that focuses on his perspective. they know that he has the more power inside the manor more than bruce has. everyone, and i mean everyone respects alfred, and it doesn't take a genius to know that if you mess with him, you're messing with an entire family of crime fighters.

it's not obvious, but the reader's narrative in chapter one is them trying so hard to delude themself into thinking things can be better until it's too late. so in a sense, there's false narrative coming into play.

"alfred would be too busy sometimes to attend your school ceremonies because he had to assist bruce with missions. of course, you understood his priorities. after all, he tried his hardest to make you feel less lonely inside the mansion, it wasn't enough but he was there at least."

at some point in time, alfred had also neglected the reader emotionally with the same reasoning as the others; he was busy with their father. and this all could've been avoided if alfred had tried to confront the entire family about it. i'm not delving deeper into this to really avoid spoilers other than pointing out some details in the first chapter.

just know that alfred relishes in your newfound favoritism towards him, and that he may or may not have pulled some strings himself from helping you become closer to the family.

the part about reading changing their name from (name) wayne to (name) (last name) is what made me so drawn to this ask. you have pretty much predicted one of the chapters that explored (name) wayne to the public eye. they're not so much of an internet celebrity because of their rare appearances in public, but that's what causes immense curiosity about their identity to uprise in gotham, and their fame was one of the means to get to you.

there was one news article published that was the reason that made bruce distant towards you.

but let's focus on what yan! bruce would've felt once he turns a full 360.

because the first thing he would do once he has you in his grasp is to change your last name back to his. you are not the child of a (last name), you are a wayne first and foremost, bruce's third child and his greatest mistake, quite literally. you were a product of a one-night-stand, and because he was drowning in despair from jason's death, he had failed to notice you. all his years of neglect, and he doesn't even know a single thing about you, simply because he refused to acknowledge your presence.

and you rightfully hated him, he should've accepted that. but your diary entries and the way you innocently thought of him destroyed any sliver of hope for a peaceful reconciliation. he hates how you were experiencing the same type of despair as him when it comes to battling your own monsters— you truly are a wayne at heart. he couldn't afford to let you get away any further. just like dick, he needs to fix it now or further sever the already broken ties you have with him.

it's not batman now, but rather bruce. bruce wayne had failed to save another one of his children, not as a vigilante, but as a father.

knowing bruce, he's quick to take into action and search for you.

holy shit, this is a really long post but i hope it does answer the questions ! im so grateful that you like my writing enough to write a really long ask, and i hope to see your messages more once the new chapters are published <3

[lunarriviera]

I'm watching Guardian right now but the god awful CGI is making me laugh during serious moments. help.

legit reaction tho, almost all the CGI is truly hilaribad, especially during the first few episodes (that whole water demon/spirit thing? wow. just…wow) (and chu shuzhi's puppet ksdhfksfd whyyyyyyy)

BUT. here's the thing about guardian: 1) try to think of its kitsch as a feature, not a bug. just go with it, lean fully into all of the cringe. shen wei's dorkiness. dixingren being meteor-mutated aliens imprisoned underground. snake lady. talking cat. zhao yunlan's terrible hair (that at least will change). just EMBRACE it. that way when the very sharp knives suddenly come out and start flashing, in classic cdrama style, you will be completely taken aback and gasp in shock, and, not long thereafter, begin to weep and not stop until 3 days after you've seen the last episode. because, if you truly accept the initial lunacy of guardian, eventually it WILL gut you like a wriggling fish.

also 2) it's much easier to accept the rocky production values if you make mental allowances for how the company went utterly bankrupt midway through filming; the only reason guardian ever got finished AT ALL was that the cast and crew basically decided to work for free on an insanely accelerated schedule, during which all the actors are having to wear their own clothes. (fortunately for zhu yilong he had kept a bunch of pieces from modeling shoots, so he's able to fabricate some kind of more or less consistent Look for shen wei—like the painted-on blue suit with its inexplicable ass chain. mad drip.)

like. everyone knows this already so i'm sure you do too but there's a reason they have one (1) good piece of music (the opening song) and that's about it: they just flat ran out of money. this had some good results (we never have to see chu-ge's puppet again) and some not so great ones (i won't spoil you but let's just say it involves internal organs). ultimately, guardian only knows how to do three things but it does those superbly well: a) zhu yilong and bai yu staring at each other with ravenous desperation, like they're gonna die if they can't breathe the same air forever, b) a time-loop script that really comes through in the back half, and c) related to both of these, an ending that WILL make you throw objects around your home and then immediately read the novel/a bunch of fanfic. the good news is it's an amazing novel (though very different) and the fanfic is sine qua non. (also you get two ships for the price of one so don't sleep on chuguo.)

these are my 7 am thoughts on guardian. i wasn't sold on it at all until about a third of the way through but by then i was clutching it to my face sobbing and begging it to never end. guardian is weird like that—either you're gonna fall for it so hard it will change your entire media life (the way btvs or x-files did for fans in the 1990s) or you'll wind up dropping it. which is fine! for brilliant cgi you can watch like, idk. the expanse or something. (and fwiw i laugh at serious moments ALL THE TIME, my film students really hate it. i feel like it's a gen x coping strategy but they're alpha and very Earnest and Sincere.)

tldr watch guardian at least until you get to the kitchen scene before you decide. then you'll know if it's right for you. love you madly!! <3

[just-shairahhh]

Wings and Venom; Part III

Pairing: Theodore Nott X Fem!Reader

Part: Three of Three (?)

A/n: Hi, everyone. I went overboard with the word count again. I was also thinking of keeping this series a trilogy, I don't know. Let me know your thoughts on this. And a tiny clarification, in the previous chapter flashback, second year Theo was not smoking. He was only staring at an unlit cigar. I am sorry for not clarifying that. While we do know that our Teddy dearest does have a habit of smoking, I would not like to believe it was the second year. And who knows, maybe Y/n is the reason for that. Well, I hope you enjoy reading this chapter.

Part One | Part Two |

Binns dismissed the class with his usual monotone, but you barely registered it. The low hum of students shuffling their books, and chairs scraping along the floor grew louder with each passing second, but you barely registered that too. For the remaining yet fleeting seconds, you did not move from your seat and neither did Theo. The warmth of his shoulder against yours had become something steady, grounding, like it had been there all along.

Then, without a word, Theo reached for your book bag. He slung it over his shoulder, standing up as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if he had always done this.

You blinked, thrown by the ease of it. “I can carry my own bag, you know.”

Theo didn’t look at you, already weaving through the students toward the door. “I know,” he threw back at you.

You scowled, quickening your pace to keep up. “Then why are you carrying it?”

Theo barely spared you a glance. “Because I felt like it.”

You huffed. “You felt like it?”

“Yeah.” A pause. Then, with the faintest smirk, he added, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You complaining?”

You opened your mouth, then shut it. Damn him. Because, really, what were you supposed to say to that? Let’s all be honest. You were totally, in no way, complaining. Your book bag was heavy and you were so tired after all your classes. But that doesn’t mean you need to let him know that. You were gonna carry that bag to your dorm, if that was the last thing you did today.

“…It’s weird,” you finally settled on.

Theo shrugged, the motion making his knuckles brush against your arm again. “You’re weird.”

You scoffed. “Brilliant comeback.”

“Thanks.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Still taking it.”

You glared up at him, but he was maddeningly composed. Smug, even. You weren’t sure when this had started—when his teasing had shifted into something more playful, something that made your stomach flip instead of boil with frustration.

“Give me my bag, Nott.”

Theo hummed, considering. “No,” he responds suddenly. “I don’t think I will.”

You reached for it, but he dodged you easily, moving the bag behind his back. You tried again, lunging forward—and this time, he shifted fast enough that you stumbled straight into him.

Oh.

You caught yourself just in time, hands against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your palms. He was close—so close, the scent of him clouding your thoughts. Your breath stuttered.

Theo tilted his head, gaze flicking between your eyes and your mouth, his voice low and entirely too pleased.

"Careful, sweetheart. You keep throwing yourself at me, people will talk.”

“Theo—” you started, a little annoyed.

“You’re cute when you’re mad, you know that?”

Your stomach flipped violently.

“Oh, shut up,” you muttered, shoving at his arm—not nearly as forceful as it should have been and as he deserved. But just enough. You pushed yourself off of him slightly before dramatically rolling your eyes at him.

Theo’s smirk deepened. “That’s not very nice.”

“I’m not nice.”

“I know.” His voice dropped slightly, his gaze flickering down to your mouth before he looked away. “That’s why it’s fun.”

You felt hot all of a sudden. Wasn’t Hogwarts supposed to be temperature modified? What’s with all the stuffiness... and the... and the warmth seeping through your cheeks. And...

Before you could formulate a response, a voice called out—

“What’s this, Nott?” Mattheo mused. “Carrying books for our sunshine now?”

You turned to find Mattheo lounging against the corridor wall, flanked by Blaise and Enzo.

Theo, to his credit, didn’t so much as blink. He just dropped your bag unceremoniously at your feet (okay, rude!) and said, “Shut up, Riddle.”

But Mattheo’s grin only widened. “Didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

You simply rolled your eyes, not bothering to answer. You picked up your book bag with a huff, already walking away for lunch.

Before you could reach the Great Hall, footsteps sounded behind you. Moments later, Mattheo and Blaise flanked you on either side, Enzo and Theo falling into step just behind them.

“You’re coming tomorrow, right?” Blaise asked, his tone making it sound less like a question and more like an expectation.

You frowned. “Coming where?”

“The match,” Mattheo said in an obvious tone, throwing an arm around your shoulders like this was a casual chat and not an ambush. “Then, of course, the party after.”

You gave him a look. “Bit premature, don’t you think? You haven’t won yet.”

Blaise scoffed. “Yeah, we have.”

You let out a laugh. “Oh, of course. Silly me for thinking Hufflepuff might actually have a chance.”

Mattheo gasped, clutching his chest. “The disrespect.”

“They might as well hand us the Cup now,” Blaise said smugly. “We’re just being polite, sweetheart.”

“You lot don’t know the meaning of the word polite.”

Mattheo smirked. “And yet, you’re still walking with us. That’s very interesting.”

“No, I am not. YOU are walking with ME. I am merely tolerating your presence. And get that hand off my shoulder!” You finish, shrugging his hand away and increasing your pace slightly. A Slytherin party is the last place you wanna be caught up in, ranked in your places to never visit right below Azkaban.

“Sure, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could fire back, Theo spoke—not cocky like the others, just… casual. “You should... come.”

You glanced at him, caught off guard by how unassuming it was. Not a demand, not a challenge—just… a suggestion.

“Oh?” You tilted your head toward him. “Are you inviting me?”

He shrugged, but there was something else in his eyes. You were just about to respond when Mattheo groaned from your side.

 “Alright, enough of the pining.”

“We’re playing Exploding Snap at the party,” Blaise announced just when you reached the Grand Hall. “Loser takes a shot.”

You scoffed, already scanning the Great Hall for Elena. You spotted her at the Ravenclaw table, eyes fixed on a letter, completely absorbed.

“Are we pretending like that’s some grand challenge?” you said, turning back to the boys.

Mattheo chuckled. “She’s cocky. I like it.”

With that, the three of them sauntered off, already blending into the sea of green and silver at the Slytherin table. But Theo—he didn’t move. He lingered just behind you, close enough that you felt the warmth of his presence before you turned to face him.

His gaze flickered over your face, something unreadable in his expression. “So… you’ll come?”

It wasn’t quite a question. More like a quiet hope. A crack in his usual indifference.

You hesitated—just for a second. Then, with a tilt of your head, you smirked. “If you win.”

His lips curled into something softer, something just for you. And as he stepped past you, he leaned in, voice low and right at your ear.

“The theme is Hello Kitty.” His voice was breathy, like he was trying not to laugh. You on the other hand, snorted out a laugh. Imagining Theo and the other Slytherin Boys wearing tunics and pretty bows does that to a person.

And then, with a chuckle, he was gone. Leaving you with the ghost of his words and a heartbeat that refused to settle.

Theo had taken a seat next to Enzo, effortlessly slipping back into their world. Across from him, Mattheo leaned in, whispering something that made Theo huff a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he picked at his food.

You exhaled, forcing yourself to look away. With that, you turned and made your way toward Elena.

.

.

.

You stood in front of the mirror, frowning at your reflection as Elena lay sprawled across your bed, flipping through a book.

“This is stupid,” you muttered, tugging at the hem of the green sweater you were trying on. It was beautiful but it wasn’t really you. Sighing, you pulled off the sweater entirely.

From the bed, Elena didn’t even look up. “Tell me again why this won’t do as well?”

“It just won’t,” you said quickly. You grabbed another sweater from the pile, slipping it over your head. The fabric was soft, familiar—one you’d worn a hundred times before. The royal blue threads enveloping you into a comfortable hug. You picked up your favourite pendant, the locket, a pair of wings and clasped it around your neck.

Elena finally glanced up from her book, smiling when she saw what you were wearing. “Perfect,” she whispered.

You smiled back at her before groaning, and throwing yourself onto the bed beside her. “It’s just a Quidditch game. It really does not deserve this much thought process.”

“You are preaching to the choir, sister.” She turned a page lazily. “I spent the past hour choosing between two very similar jumpers, to the point that I questioned why I felt the need to buy both. But look at us acting like the outcome depends on our outfits.”

You huff out a laugh at that.

“But for you, hun, the outcome might just depend on what you wear.” She gave you a suggestive look, wiggling her eyebrows.

You scowled, pressing your face into the mattress. “I don’t know how to do this, Elena.” You said suddenly. “Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

Elena smiled kindly at you, her tone no longer playful but serious. “You’ve danced around him for years, Y/n and he has done the same. Both of you pretending like nothing was there. But I think everyone else knew that something always was. Maybe an even deeper connection than attraction. I saw it the night you came back from the Astronomy Tower, second year. The way you talked about him. Don’t let it go because you are scared. Only let it go if he is a dick.”

Your laughed softly before the tension was back, settling at the pit of your stomach. “What if I don’t know how to do this?” you asked, voice small. “What if it’s too late? Too much risk?”

Elena rolled towards you until she was beside you. She looked you in the eye, her expression more serious than you’d ever seen it. “You’ve already started, Y/n. We talked about this the other day. You wanted to do it then. And I think the hardest part is already done.” She gave you a small, almost bittersweet smile. “And I think you both deserve this. Even if it’s terrifying.”

You felt your chest tighten, unsure how to respond to the weight of her words. There was so much you wanted to say, but nothing felt like it would be enough. You turned to face her fully, a sudden surge of emotion rising in you.

“What do I do now?”

Elena took your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “You get your cute ass up from the bed. We are already late. The game has started. And you try to have fun with it.”

 “You’re right,” you whispered.

 “Duh,” she teased.

You chuckled, a little breathless at her words. You were both headed toward the door, when you suddenly stopped. “Oh, and there’s a party—”

“Of course there is. We are going. We come back, get some rest and diva up! Oh, by the way, I have a Gryffindor date tonight,” she added with a grin. You gave her a look, an eyebrow raised, “Come on, now. Just a date. It’s Cameron Sinclair, Gryffindor Quidditch team? Yeah.”

You smile, a little surprised at the revelation. “Wait, Cameron Sinclair? Seriously?”

“Yep, that’s the one.” Elena laughed, her tone light and breezy. She winked at you and you chuckled at her expressions. But then paused by the door before leaving. “Um, Theo said the theme was Hello Kitty...”

“Haha, sure. A Hello Kitty Slytherin Party but you know what? I think we can do something about it, now that I think about it. Show Theodore Nott we can play at his game. I am thinking ....” She goes on about how the two of you can dress up as you make your way to the match.

.

.

.

The game had reached its fever pitch, and the stands were filled with roaring fans, their voices blending into a thunderous wave of sound that seemed to shake the very air. You had always enjoyed these matches. No matter how hard your schedule was, you had always managed to take out time for the matches. Usually, you were always cheering for the Hufflepuffs, some of your friends were in the team. But today, you chose to be a silent supporter mostly, clapping and cheering whenever any of the houses scored. The Slytherin team was far ahead this time, but the match was still alive with excitement, the energy buzzing around you as the players swirled on their brooms. Yet, no matter how chaotic the game got, your eyes only looked for him—chasing, gliding, completely in his element—as if he was the only thing worth watching.

The moment Theo took off for another pass, you couldn’t help but stare (again). He looked... powerful. The way he darted between the other players, the slight glint of determination in his eyes—it made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t quite explain. He was different from all the others.

There was something hypnotic about the way he moved—sharp, deliberate, yet so effortlessly fluid. It was as though every muscle in his body knew exactly where to be, and every part of him was focused on one thing: the snitch. But you? You were distracted—utterly, terribly distracted. Not by the game, but by him. It was impossible not to notice the way he kept glancing in your direction, those sharp green eyes catching yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. The first time his eyes met yours, a spark shot through you, breath catching in your throat. His gaze held yours longer than it should have. Eyes that were meant to look for the snitch felt that they had won already. A soft smile took over his sharp features, unwavering, and in that moment, everything else seemed to disappear for you—sounds, thoughts, even time itself.

Well, sort of. The world didn’t really fade away, not when there was someone standing a few stands down, trying their best to grab the attention of the eyes that were rearranging your insides ever since he looked at you for the first time today.

Selene Mulciber.

She wasn’t hard to miss. A striking figure in the Slytherin stands, perched at the very front with her long, dark hair pulled back into a sleek, sharp ponytail that highlighted the elegant curve of her neck. Her features were sharp, almost ethereal—high cheekbones, full lips, and eyes so dark they almost seemed black in the sunlight. Every inch of her radiated an undeniable, almost dangerous beauty.

Her eyes were locked on Theo as if he were the only thing that mattered in the world, and every cheer, every shout seemed designed to draw his attention, to remind him of her presence. She leaned forward with an almost predatory grace, her long fingers gripping the railing in front of her as she cheered relentlessly. "Go, Theo!" she called out, her voice loud, unmistakably directed at him. Each shout was infused with a possessive edge, as though the victory didn’t belong to Slytherin as a whole, but to him alone.

Every time he made a pass, a particularly impressive dive, or even just flew past, Selene’s voice would ring out, cutting through the crowd. “That’s my Theo!” she yelled, her words dripping with an almost possessive pride.

It started as a trickle. The first few times, you told yourself it didn’t mean anything to you. She was just supporting her house and her friends. But then it happened again. And again. Every time Theo made a move on the pitch, Selene was there, a shout, a cheer, her eyes glued to him. And it really irked you for some reason and you grew even more annoyed. You did not like the fact that it irked you or the possessiveness of her tone, for the matter.

“Look at him go! There he is, my champion!” she called, practically bouncing in her seat. The way her gaze followed him—devouring him—made your chest tighten. It was as if she was trying to lay claim to him in front of everyone.

And that was when it hit you.

Her presence wasn’t just loud—it was suffocating. She wasn’t just cheering for Slytherin; she was cheering for Theo. Every second of the game felt like she was trying to draw a spotlight onto herself, showing off how close she was to him. And every time she cheered, every time her voice broke through the noise of the crowd, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

You clenched your jaw, trying to shake off the feeling, but the knot in your stomach wouldn’t loosen. Selene’s voice was like a constant hum in the background, grating against your nerves, but you refused to let it show. It shouldn’t have mattered. None of it should have mattered. 

But then—everything else faded. 

Because Theo was moving. 

A flash of gold glimmered in the air, just out of reach, and he was already closing in. His form was sharp, controlled—every motion was precise, a hunter locked onto his prey. The stadium roared around you, but you barely heard any of it. Your breath hitched, chest tightening as your eyes stayed locked on him.  

Come on, Theo. 

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides, a silent plea pressing against your ribs. The wind whipped through his dark hair, the sharp angles of his face tense with concentration. His body dipped, muscles taut as he leaned forward, pushing his broom harder, faster. The snitch darted left—he followed without hesitation, cutting through the air like he was born to do it. 

You could see it now, barely an arm’s length away. Come on. Come on. Come on...

Selene’s voice rang out again—louder, more insistent. “That’s it, Theo! Take it!” 

Your jaw clenched tighter. 

But then, in a single, breath-taking second, his fingers closed around the snitch. 

The stands erupted into deafening cheers. Slytherin colours blurred in a sea of green and silver as people leaped to their feet, screaming in victory. Theo skidded to a halt mid-air, holding the snitch high as his teammates swarmed him. 

You exhaled, the tension leaving your body all at once. But coming back soon after, when you caught his eyes searching the crowd. 

When his eyes finally found yours—when that small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips—your breath caught in your throat.

And just as you were about to return his smile with one of your own, the cheer rang out once more, and it was Selene, her arms thrown wide as she beamed in Theo’s direction, her voice louder than anyone else's. “That’s it! You did it, Theo! You’re the best!” The possessiveness in her tone made something inside you twist painfully.

“Does she always do that?” you leaned into Elena, your voice tight.

Elena, who had been standing beside you, didn’t look up from the field at first. Her face remained expressionless, but you could tell from the way her jaw tightened that she was aware of Selene’s presence too. Slowly, she leaned in closer, her voice a low whisper.

Selene’s had her sights on Theo for years,” Elena said quietly. “They... they’ve been involved before. Nothing serious. A fling. But she’s always kept tabs on him. She’s always been this... possessive.”

You blinked, the words sinking in slowly, but the turmoil in your chest wasn’t easily erased. You had never been one for drama or entanglements. Your ideology of love was not really a messy, complicated dynamics. You liked things simple, straightforward. So why did the situation with Theo feel anything but that? Especially when there are no situations to begin with?

You’d never been the type to go after someone who was already involved, and while you were far from naive, the uncertainty gnawed at you. Was this just another one of Theo’s fleeting flings? Something he’d brush off once it lost its charm? The idea unsettled you more than you cared to admit, but it wasn’t just that. It was the fear of falling—of stepping into something you couldn't control and ending up with nothing but a tangled mess.

It would be easy to walk away now, while you still can, to ignore the electric pull between you and him and avoid the chaos entirely. But your instincts told you that was exactly what it wasn't—a passing thing. You knew better than to give in to reckless desires, but it was hard to ignore the rawness of the connection between you two. Was it worth it?

Before you could second-guess yourself further, Elena’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You’re smarter than this. Don’t let her get in your head. Theo isn’t hers if he’s still looking at you like that.”

Her words hung in the air, both reassuring and frustrating. Because you wanted to believe her. You wanted to trust that what was between you and Theo was real, that it wasn’t just some fleeting moment in the midst of all this noise. But still, the insecurities floated around. And you knew it would be a difficult cat to put back in the bag.

But then, just as you were about to spiral again, you heard the loud cheer of the crowd and felt a slight shift in the atmosphere. Theo had landed with the snitch, his victory sealing the game, but your heart was still racing from the moments before. His eyes found you instantly, as if he was searching for you in a sea of people, his gaze locking with yours in a way that made your breath catch. And just like that, again, everything felt suspended—everything except him.

But Selene was quick to re-enter the scene. You didn’t even see when she left from the bleachers and made her way to where Theo was standing right now, in the centre of the field. You couldn’t tear your eyes away as she appeared from the crowd, moving toward Theo with a confident, purposeful stride. She threw her arms around his neck, her body pressed against his, her lips brushing his cheek in a way that made the hair on your neck stand up.

And yet, despite everything—the closeness, the way her arms fit perfectly around his neck, the warmth of her body against his—Theo didn’t push her away. He didn’t step back or give her any sign of hesitation. No. He simply... stood there, letting her do it, his attention fully absorbed in something else.

He was laughing, his back to you, his focus completely on his friends who had just joined him at the centre of the field. Theo was chatting with them, his voice carrying through the noise of the crowd, and every now and then, he would cheer and pump his fist as if Selene wasn’t there at all.

Your pulse quickened. Is this what I’m getting myself into? Was Theo the type of person to always have someone around, to never truly let anyone in? The thought stung. You weren't in the habit of chasing after men—or their attention—but this felt different. This felt like something you couldn't quite walk away from, even as it made you question everything you thought you

And when you couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in your chest, you knew that if you let things proceed between you and Theo, you were about to walk into something that could tear you apart. With an air of finality that still pricked at your heart, you turned towards Elena. “I’m not going,” you finally said, the words coming out stronger than you expected.

Elena’s face softened, but there was a glint of disbelief in her eyes. “Are you sure? I don’t think that is the right choice here.”

“I can’t, El” You whispered softly. “I don’t know what this is, and I’m not going to put myself in a situation where I don’t even know where I stand.”

Elena shook her head, clearly torn. “You’re one of the smartest people I know, and I get that you’re thinking this through, but don’t let fear control you. I really don’t think he is going to hurt you. If anything, he’s the one who’s been afraid of this for way too long.” Her eyes softened. “But if you’re sure…”

You nodded, feeling the weight of your decision settle inside you. You didn’t have all the answers, and maybe you never would. But right now, you needed to protect yourself. Maybe later, when you weren’t so tangled in your emotions, you’d go. But not tonight. Not like this.

Elena raised an eyebrow. “If you are not going, I am not going. What are we thinking? Ice-cream? Movie-night?”

You gave her a real smile then. “I’m fine, El. Go. You have a hot date waiting. I want you to go. And have a good time.”

As she hesitantly walked off, you watched her, the noise of the crowd feeling distant, as if you were in a bubble. You had made the right choice—at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

But part of you couldn’t help but wonder if walking away from Theo meant walking away from something that could have been. You didn’t know yet, but for now, you had made your peace with staying out of it. At least for tonight.

.

.

.

The first thought that crossed Theo’s mind when he started ascending the stairs to the Astronomy Tower was that he wasn’t supposed to be here. Truthfully, he did not want to be here. He wanted to be at his party, celebrating with his friends, and spending time with you. You, who he had hoped with all his heart, would show up. You, who he thought, he would spend the evening listening to. And you, who he was hoping to ask out on a date, finally. But when hours passed by, the party was in full swing and you hadn’t showed up, his doubts started creeping in.

When he saw Elena, dancing along with her date, he was sure you weren’t here. And that you weren’t going to come. Unbeknownst to most, Theodore Nott does not let himself have expectations. When he learnt at a very young age that he could not expect his own father to not harm him and keep him safe, expecting things from others around him did not seem very wise to him. It was the only way he knew to protect himself. Yet, as he stood now, on top of the Astronomy Tower, gazing at you with the same adoration you gazed at the stars, he knew he was a goner.

He wasn’t prepared, for the way his heart twisted when he saw you standing by the railing, gazing at the stars as if they held all the answers.

You turned around swiftly, the sound of footsteps breaking through the silence of the night. Your heart stuttered in your chest, but you relaxed when you realized it was him.

Theo stood there, just a few steps away, his presence heavy in the air between you. His eyes found yours instantly. There was an ocean in them—waves crashing and pulling, full of things unsaid. The sadness was there, unmistakable, like a storm cloud that had settled too long. But there was something else, too. A quiet desperation, a yearning that seemed to come from deep within him, something raw and vulnerable.

You met his gaze, your own eyes reflecting back the same heaviness, but with a depth he couldn't possibly understand. You were scared, unsure, your thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and longing. Yet, when you looked at him, it felt like the world shrank into nothing but the two of you, and you couldn't look away.

“You don’t make this easy, do you?” Theo’s voice was a mix of frustration and something else—something deeper that he wasn’t ready to confront. He took a step closer but you still didn’t acknowledge him.

“I was hoping it would be easy. Clearly, it is not.” you replied.

The words left you before you could stop them, colder than you meant them to be. You didn’t want to be cold. You didn’t want to be so distant. But what was the alternative?

Theo’s hand flexed at his side, as if he wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. “You think this is easy for me? That I’m not a mess inside? That I am not trying to sort through whatever is happening in here,” he lets out, pointing to his mind, “so I can sort through whatever is happening inside that smart as a whip yet overthinking mind of yours?”

“Yes, I do see you at work, in action. Sorting through our insecurities while kissing your girlfriend.” The words left your mouth before you could process them, sharp and accusing.

“It was a kiss on the cheek, Y/n,” he said, his voice low but sharp, the words cutting through the air with a mixture of confusion and irritation. “And I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. I was celebrating with my friends, I did not even notice and the one person I did want to celebrate with, ran away from me. So, I don’t see how I am the problem here today."

You flinched, the words cutting deeper than you expected. The hurt flashed across his face before he quickly masked it with frustration. His voice lowered, but there was no mistaking the raw emotion in it now.

“You have no idea how hard this is,” you said, your voice quieter now, as you stepped closer to him. “I’ve never been good at this—at the... Heck, I have never even done this. And next to me is the person who is apparently so used to this, he does not even notice it now. But let me tell you what I won’t do. I won’t be someone’s second choice.”

Theo's eyes widened, his chest rising and falling quicker now. "You think that’s what I want? For you to be anyone else’s? For me to be anyone else’s? Gods, Y/n."

He paused, not knowing what to say or how to start, for a minute. Neither did you. He began again, his voice was thick now, his emotions pouring out with each word. “I’m sorry, Y/n. You were never second best, not from the moment you walked in the astronomy tower on our second year. Not ever. I’ve been so caught up in my own mess that I did what I could to not feel the things happening around me... I’ve let so many things get in the way—Selene, others, my own insecurities—everything. But it was always you. You have to know that.” He paused, eyes softening, as if he couldn’t quite believe the words himself. “I’m not asking for an easy way out. But I know... I know it’s you.”

And just like that, everything inside you cracked wide open. The words that had been trapped in your throat came rushing forward.

“I don’t know what to do with all of this,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “I don’t know how to handle this... us. It was easy when we’re at the tower all those years ago, it was easy when I knew you needed those herbology notes last year. It is easy when I see you across the hall and smile. It is easy when I see you happy. But this is like we’re standing on a cliff, and I don’t know if I should jump or turn around and walk away.”

Theo's eyes softened, his heart in his gaze. His voice was quieter now, like he was speaking directly to you, his words carrying the weight of all that had been unsaid.

“I’m not going anywhere. I can’t... But I can’t keep pretending like this isn’t real. The smiles across the halls are not enough. The notes are not enough. The faraway glances of being happy for the others success from standing afar are not enough,. It has never been enough for a long time. I need you. More of you, all of you,” His hand reached for yours, the warmth of it sending a wave of relief crashing over you.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn’t fight it anymore. The yearning, the pull toward him—it was stronger than any logic, any caution.

When you opened your eyes, you met his gaze, the storm of emotions in both of you palpable.

“I’m... I am scared and I don't know how to do this. And my best asset sometimes comes back as my worst enemy. I will mess up, you know.” you said softly. To which he shook his head. “But maybe... maybe we can figure this out. Together?”

And in this moment, that was all he needed to know.

Theo’s lips parted, and for a split second, you thought he might say something else. But instead, without warning, he surged forward, his hands grabbing your waist with a desperation that matched your own. The air between you crackled with something dangerous—something raw. His body pressed against yours, and suddenly, the entire world felt like it was collapsing around you, the only thing that mattered being the way his mouth collided with yours.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, voice barely audible, but there was a raw honesty to it, a promise that you weren’t backing away anymore.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a storm. Wild, urgent, filled with years of pent-up frustration, confusion, and need. His lips were firm, almost bruising, as if he was trying to pull all the words, all the emotions, out of you with one touch. There was no hesitation now, no space left for doubt. It was chaotic, the kind of chaos that made your pulse race and your body burn with a fire you didn’t know you were capable of.

You could feel the heat radiating off of him, his chest pressing against yours with every breath you took. His hands were everywhere—around your waist, on your back, pulling you closer, until you were both so tangled up, you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. The kiss was frantic, hungry, like you were both trying to make up for lost time, for all the things you’d never said but had been feeling for so long.

And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it ended. You pulled away, your lips swollen, your chest heaving. Your breath came in uneven gasps, the world spinning around you. Theo’s forehead rested against yours, his hands still holding you tight as if you might slip away from him.

You let out a shaky laugh, the sound foreign to your ears in the quiet aftermath. You felt him smile against you.

Theo pulled back, his chest still rising and falling rapidly, hands loosely wrapped around your waist. “So ... that happened.”

You blinked at him, trying to gather your thoughts, but the only thing that came out was a half-laugh, half-sigh. You stand on your tip toes and loop your hands through his neck. “Yeah. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Theo raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “For what? The kiss? I thought I was doing you a favour.”

You shot him a look, barely suppressing a smile. “Oh, please. If anything, I just saved you from a lifetime of wondering what ‘what could’ve been’ would taste like.”

Theo snorted, a laugh escaping him. “Is that right, bella? I guess I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll cash in on it later,” you teased, crossing your arms, promising to give back just as good you got it.

.

.

.

Taglist: @nottinmyheart @whosyourgnomie

Thank you for being the sweethearts with the kindest words and for your constant support. I hope you guys like this one <3

[doki-doki-imagines]

hello! I am the person who requested that reader with a cat who likes the boys a lot if u remember that request.

may I request (if ur not uncomfortable with it) some period comfort with an afab!reader (they/them pls) just taking care and helping reader with their period? if it's not too much can u also include reader sleeping a lot and craving lots of food (typical ik) and how reader just gets mad rlly easily.

characters: bi-han, syzoth, shang tsung, kenshi, raiden and liu kang

thank u and have a good day :) (smiling through the pain)

author note: I'm super late, but I suppose it's better than never. Hope you'll like these! Link to the cat post

Kenshi Takahashi: -He…He can smell when you are on your period. -Actually Kenshi can even tell when it is coming so he is always ready with food when it finally comes. -He tries to keep your pelvis warm and treat you softly since your body gets sore way more easily. -Kenshi goes a bit insane when you're ovulating, so now he is more calm and soft. -He'll try to make your mean comments slide, but it is hard for him, so it's better not to exaggerate, or Kenshi will snap back.

Raiden: -Really sweet and understand your needs. -But Raiden won't be a sticky boyfriend. He has work to do and won't take a day off. -When he finally understands how this period works for you, he will be prepared for the next one. -Your fave food? Check. Warm beverages? Check. Cover and 3 different kinds of movies to match your current mood? Check. -When Raiden gets home tho he is all for you. He likes to put you in his arms and draw circles on your hand, waiting for you to fall asleep on his chest. -Mean words are nothing to him. A king of taking the hit and making it slide off him.

Liu Kang: -"You bastard! Couldn't you erase menstruation while creating this world?" You whine into his arms, cramps making you curl in his body.

"Would you rather lay eggs, dear one?" Liu Kang replies, with a smile on his face, forefinger lifting your chin up to make you look into his brilliant eyes.

"You are just a meanie." You snap back, pushing his face away from yours, making a laughter blossom in his throat. -He tries not to make you eat too much junk food, but he'll back off when you look at him with fury in your eyes. -His body is better than any cover.

Bi-Han: -I'm sorry, but he would be pretty cold. -He was raised in a way that even if you were dying, you should take care of yourself without the help of anybody, so at max, he'll send your way a doctor. -Bi-Han has to work A LOT on being a normal human. He really doesn't know how to work around normal feelings that are outside his field of work. -And the future grandmaster lessons he has been given as a kid never focused on helping his partner out. It is already much that he decided who to be with. -Bi-Han probably knows very little about how menstruation works, mostly because they taught him not to care about other people and just think about how to be the perfect Lin Kuei's leader. -First work on making him act as a decent human, then Bi-Han will even make you a special tea to make your cramps less painful. -And if you look particularly pitiful he may snuck junk food too…

Syzoth: -The first time he saw you losing blood, he panicked because "Why are you losing blood?!?!" -After you explain how things work, Syzoth will let out a breath of relief. -Surprisingly, he understands pretty well that losing blood is a pain, so he doesn't mind following your order like a butler. -Syzoth is gonna snuggle under the covers with you, btw. -Not used to you being mean tho, even if he understands you aren't fine, he still takes those words personally.

Shang Tsung: -Actually, he'd make a potion to make your cramps fade. -But he doesn't do anything for nothing…are you ready to try his next experiments? Maybe the potion isn't as safe as he says. -Shang Tsung satisfies your cravings, but don't nag too much, or he'll get annoyed. -Also, don't be mean, or he will snap back, then you'll start to cry, and actually Shang Tsung has a weakness: your tears. Then he'll have to try to make you stop, but sadly, another mean word slips…it's an endless cycle that makes him think just "Hope this will end soon."

[measureyourlifeincake]

just watched the first two eps of the new murderbot show and i'm still figuring out how i feel about it. i'm just gonna bullet point some thoughts/first impressions (under the cut bc spoilers)

despite my initial reservations about casting, i think skarsgård is doing a pretty brilliant job as murderbot

oddly enough, i do have some reservations about mensah's actor. her portrayal of the panic attacks didn't feel super believable to me, but to be fair it could just be because her panic attacks don't look like my panic attacks, and it's not like i make a habit of observing other people's panic attacks so idk. i do think she recovered more quickly than is realistic for an actual panic attack, but that's more of a writing/directing choice than an acting choice

overall, we're getting a much better sense of who the PresAux survey folks are as people than in All Systems Red, which is the correct call for a tv adaptation

i was surprised at how gurathin-heavy it's been, but i'm not mad at it. gurathin isn't really how i imagined him but i do really like the choices they made for him

specifically, the Eye Contact scene was soooo awkward, which i have mixed feelings about. like yes. this makes sense, we're getting a great sense of these characters and that's very well done but also hooo boy was it hard to watch

overall, it's a pretty jarring switch from being in mb's head all the time to, yknow, being in a visual medium where you can't be in a character's head in that way and i'm still getting used to it.

in re: that last point, i had mixed feelings about seeing stuff that murderbot can't see and thus getting information at a different rate than a book-reader would, but that shot of deltfall was delicious so i'm here for it

also mixed feelings about the pronoun-correction scene. having gurathin, the one who emphatically does not like murderbot, be the one to do the whole "it, not he," makes it seem like he's using it/it's pronouns to be a dick/emphasize that secunit isn't a person, rather than yknow. that it doesn't do the whole human gender thing. also it feels incongruous with the more expansive view of gender that exists in the world of the books for a character to default to he/him, even for a character with a body that most 21st-century humans would view as masculine. idk, i hope they explore the whole pronoun thing a little more, though i am worried considering that i've noticed cast members he/himming murderbot in interviews

a little skeptical of the portrayal of presaux as almost cartoonishly "silly hippies," though that could just be coming from mb's perspective in the corporation rim. i did find it pretty funny that they brought a cajon tho ngl

ok those are all the thoughts i can put words to atm, there's definitely something about the show that i feel like is rubbing me the wrong way but idk whether that's just the whiny little nerd baby in me going "wah wah they changed things when they adapted the story i like into a different medium! how dare they!" or if it's something actually legitimate i dislike. i definitely did like a lot of the choices they made and scenes they added, but there's just... something that feels off. maybe its just me tho. idk. i'll have to keep watching to see

my pettiest issue is that murderbot mentions watching worldhoppers despite the fact that it watches it for the first time with ART iirc, but i recognize that this is petty.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Dolonia

Dolonia is defined as: a state of unease prompted by people who seem to like you too much, which makes you wonder if they must have you confused with someone else—someone flawless, selfless, or easy to understand from a distance.

Potter rolled over, pressing his too hot, too sweaty body against Draco's. And in spite of the fact that he was altogether too hot, that he was sticky, and still breathing too heavy, he couldn't find it in himself to complain.

"That was good," Potter said, trailing his fingers over Draco's ribs, brushing back and forth lightly and leaving trails of electricity shaking through Draco's chest.

He hummed, hoping it sounded aloof and noncommittal, like he wasn't trying too hard and didn't care too much about Potter's opinion, anything to convince himself that that was the truth.

"Do you want to order in some food from the Thai place down the street?" he asked, "or maybe we could go out? There's that diner a couple of blocks away, y-"

"You want to eat with me?" he asked incredulously, because fucking was one thing and occasionally sleeping in the same bed after being too tired to move made sense. But going out and eating together was something else entirely.

"Yeah," Potter said, shrugging like it was no big deal. "I'm starving, aren't you? We haven't eaten since lunch and that case was no easy thing to solve."

"Yes," he conceded, "That's what the celebratory sex was for."

Potter laughed, that bright, delighted sound that made it seem like nothing in the world was wrong. "Sure, just." He sat up, looking down at Draco, eyes impossibly large and impossibly green, "do you not want to get food with me? It's fine if you don't," he added, "just say so and I'll leave you to it."

"It's not that I don't want to get food with you," he said with a frown, staring at the mole on Potter's neck to avoid looking into his eyes. "It's just that you seem to be making this into something that it's not."

"What do you mean?" he asked, fingers carding through Draco's hair and brushing the loose strands back off his face.

He rolled his eyes, trying to make himself seem less vulnerable than he actually felt. "It's like you don't remember who I actually am sometimes."

Potter laughed, "Of course I remember who you are. You're my annoying, prat of a partner, too brilliant for his own good. You're the idiot that I come in to work with every morning wondering what sort of chaos my day is about to hold because even simple robbery cases turn into something that has years of ancestral battles and blood magic tied into it. You have very particular tea habits, and you like everything just so. I drive you mad but you still put up with me in your bed anyway."

"You're a good fuck, Potter," he said flippantly.

With a laugh, Potter leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose, like casual affection was the sort of thing that they did. "I know you."

And that reminded Draco of where this had all started, "right, but it's like you don't remember all the other parts, all of the things that came before."

He shrugged, "Why would I? You aren't that person anymore, you don't believe those things, you've turned your entire life around."

"But I am still those things," he said, shaking his head. "Sure, I don't believe what I used to, but that doesn't change that I was raised in that culture, it doesn't change that I still go to have brunch with my parents at the manor every other Sunday, or that I know how to get my way in the Ministry, or that I'm an expert manipulator-"

"Hey," Potter said, cupping his cheek. "Hey. Relax. Take a breath," he said, lips pressing to the crease between Draco's eyebrows. "You're okay. We're okay."

"I'm don't-"

"I know who you are, Draco."

"But-"

He shook his head, "I know who you are. I remember all of the things there are to know about you. I know who you were, I know all of the work you've done to be different, I know who you are now. I know you," he repeated. "Just like you know me. It's what makes us such good partners in the office and out of it." He let out a soft self-deprecating chuckle, "Please don't think that you're the only one of the two of us who's spent the past fifteen years meticulously watching the other. I know you, Draco."

He frowned up at him, uncertain where this could be going then, if Potter consciously chose Draco with all of his faults and flaws instead of just for the convenience of it.

"I know you," he repeated, "and I want you." He shrugged, "I've just been waiting for you to be ready to hear it." He grinned at him, "So, what do you say? Dinner?"

And how could he say anything but yes?

[beneathtreemomo]

Names Amongst the Dead

I got another commission from @sakura-rose12 of Kit!!! Beautiful boy and 3/4ths of his qpr (plus also his eventual boyfriend. No, I will never make a straightforward relationship. It's too fun to make them deep and meaningful, unable to be explained through words. Law is the last fourth if you were curious lol, he just didn't fit in with the theme) Have a one-shot to go with it :D -----

Kit's back hit the wall hard, causing him to stumble from the awkward angle as his and Alvarus’ legs found purchase on the steps.

Cold metal pressed against his skin; Kit froze, making the wise decision not to move.

"Oh?" Kit asked, fighting the urge to tilt his head. "I thought we'd gotten past you pulling a sword on me."

“Highness…” Alvarus breathed, a shaky awe to it that never really went away.

It made Kit huff as he smiled down at the ex-knight. “Hi, Alva.”

Brilliant sapphire eyes melted, Alvarus' sharp-edged smile turning into something softer. The distance between them was already small; Kit could feel Alvarus’ breath against his skin, knew that if Penguin or Shachi caught sight of them, he'd never hear the end of their teasing.

“Are you well?” Alvarus asked, without fail.

“Better than ever.” Kit replies, always.

A beat passed as Alvarus’ gaze studied Kit. He always made sure Kit wasn't lying to him, especially after the one time Kit had genuinely tried, and Kit could never find it in him to be mad about it.

He sighed as he determined there was nothing amiss; Kit chuckled as Alvarus seemed to collapse against him, knocking their foreheads together.

“Stop worrying me, please,” Alvarus mumbled, rubbing his nose against Kit's. His body was warm, a comforting blanket against the chill of the winter island's sea. “You’re one of few things I have left from our home. I don't think I could handle watching your vivre card try to burn a second time.”

“I’ll do my best,” Kit said after a moment, feeling the sword drop away as Alvarus sunk into the embrace. “But I can’t make any promises. You know that.”

Now that he could properly move again, Kit lifted a hand to tangle it in Alvarus’ hair, fingernails lightly scratching at the base of his neck. He returned the nuzzle, pressing his cheek against Alvarus' before pushing back his hat with a gentle hand.

Alvarus' eyes closed as he leaned into the touch with a soft sigh. “Why must all of you Lagthas be so difficult?”

Kit chuckled, pressing his lips to Alvarus’ temple. “Runs in the blood, I’m afraid.”

----

“Hey, Sabo, I—whoa!!”

As soon as Kit stepped foot into the room Sabo had chosen during their stay, a hand had wrapped around his wrist and yanked him inside.

The door was shut with a muted thud, though Kit barely managed to notice as he was slammed into the wall just next to it.

“You!”

For a moment, all Kit could see was Sabo’s jacket and the frills of his cravat. Then Sabo leaned down, caging Kit in, and his eyes were like fire.

Kit’s heart skipped a beat, unease settling low in his gut.  “…Me?”

“Were you ever going to tell us?” Sabo asked, voice low. “About who you really are?”

The unease turned into lead, sinking and pulling Kit down with it. “This is who I really am.”

“Liar,” He hissed, leaning in closer. Kit felt rather than saw Sabo’s hand moving, and with a jump he raised his hands between them to try and placate the fuming man. “I know that you’re a prince!”

Shit. He’d been afraid of that answer, even though he’d expected it. Kit really should start to know better.

“Well, sure, but—"

“Is this just a joke to you?” Sabo asked, hand pressing just enough into Kit’s side to keep him pinned. Something slipped in his voice, cracking and splintering with the confirmation his findings had been right; Kit hadn’t looked away from Sabo’s gaze at all, but only now could he see the grief and panic at the edges of his eyes.

Kit’s heart sank. “What? Sabo, no. Why would I be joking about any of this?”

“Because that’s what all nobles do in situations like this,” Sabo hissed, lips curling into a snarl. “Lie and trick us, just to hurt us behind our backs.”

“I’m not lying!”

“Then why didn’t you tell us?! If you hurt my brothers the way you hurt your people, Prince, I swear—”

Tears pricked Kit’s eyes at the low blow, heart hurting like he’d been stabbed. He shoved Sabo away and was, admittedly, a little shocked that Sabo let him. “What the fuck is your problem?!” He shouted. He knew it was too quick of a flip, but he'd thought Sabo of all people would understand, and instead he was being accused of wanting to hurt his friends.

Sabo merely stared at him, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Kit didn’t move away from the wall, but now it was his turn to snarl at Sabo. “Look in the goddamn mirror! You’re a nobleman from birth, too!”

“Watch what you say next.” The harshness in Sabo’s voice sent a shock of fear down Kit’s spine, but he didn’t stop.

“Oh, don’t be such a hypocrite.” Kit snapped back, standing tall even as Sabo’s glare sharpened back into something dangerous. “I’d already run by the time the kingdom fell; your research showed this, I know it did. Everyone knows Prince Rori disappeared three years prior."

He scoffed, feeling words he didn't want to admit spill from his mouth without his say. “What, would I be in your good graces if I had stayed to be Haesgard’s toy? Or gone back to be a lamb to the slaughter the second I caught wind of Valstasia’s fall? Forgive me for doing what my mother and Lavi sacrificed themselves for.”

He didn’t notice the way Sabo’s anger faltered as he spoke, eyes growing wide with dread as the implications of things not even the Revolutionaries would have found out slipped from Kit’s lips.

“I thought we were friends,” Kit continued, glaring at Sabo through watering eyes. “You said you trusted me because Ace and Luffy trusted me. Didn’t realize it was so easy to lose, too.”

Fed up with the conversation—annoyed because he’d actually been excited to see Sabo during this mission of his, only for it to turn into this mess of a shouting match—Kit shouldered his way past Sabo to the door.

“I’m not like those nobles you grew up hating. Don’t talk to me again until you figure that out.”

Sabo stared at the door, almost wishing Kit had slammed it shut. It would make it easier to dispel the anger still thrumming in his veins, maybe even get rid of the guilt that started settling in his chest.

That… wasn’t what he expected to happen.

Looking back, it should have been.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, fingers lingering on his scar. “Shit... I just messed up, didn't I?”

....He really should have known better.

---

Kit headed back to his room, a slight skip in his step. He’d managed to convince Law to lay down and nap, finally, and Cora had promised to keep him there until their captain could form coherent sentences again. Tang had surfaced for a while, as well, to let in some much needed fresh air and get the crew some sun.

Mostly, Kit was just glad they were headed away from Wano, and he could spend one more day not thinking about the situation looming over his shoulders.

Except, now he was thinking about it. Dammit.

His steps slowed. It… was okay to wait a few more days, right?

It was too nice a day to think about existential dread, and he didn’t want to worry Law when he woke. After that whole mess of an island, none of the crew needed to worry about him and his decades-old problem. It had waited this long—it could wait a little more.

But there had been that letter….

“Hey, Kit, what’s got you all broody?”

Kit startled, a tiny little yelp managing to leave his lips before he shut it down just as fast as he looked up.

Ace stood there across from him, hands in his pockets and an easy smile on his face. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Ace!” Kit breathed out a sigh of relief, leaning back against the wall. “Don’t startle me like that!”

“Sorry,” He said, completely unapologetic, “Being a ghost does that to someone, I’ve learned.”

Kit laughed, having to admit he had a point. “That’s fair. But your fire’s usually a lot louder than that, so I’m surprised you hid so well.”

“Hm.” Ace came closer, concern creasing his brow. “I don’t know about that, Kit. I think you’re just… distracted. You okay?”

No, but Kit’s pretty sure he hasn’t been for a while.

“It’s nothing,” He promised, tasting ash on his tongue. “Just thinking, is all.”

“Ahh, I see.” Ace nodded, humming thoughtfully a moment later. Kit raised a brow as he stepped into his space, resting an arm above Kit’s head. “Well, how about I help you stop thinking for a bit, hm?”

As he spoke, Ace brought a hand up to take Kit’s chin between his forefinger and thumb, stroking Kit’s bottom lip. Kit huffed a laugh at the action, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh? And how are you going to do that?”

“I’m sure you could come up with something, eh, Enchanter?” Ace all but purred, eyes locked onto Kit’s. It made Kit’s heart race, excitement thrumming to life in his veins as Ace leaned ever closer—

Only for Ace to yelp as he suddenly fell through both Kit and the wall.

Kit burst out laughing while Ace let out a dismayed cry, covering his smile with his hand as Ace righted himself. He turned back to Kit, all charm replaced by a sheepish smile and heavy flush down to his chest that had Kit’s heart turning to mush.

“Guess that didn’t really… go well, huh?”

“No,” Kit disagreed, still giggling as he lowered his hand. “No, I think it worked exactly how you wanted it to.”

Ace pouted as he readjusted his hat where it had fallen askew. “But I wanted a kiss.”

With a smile Kit walked past, flicking the string of his cap up to Ace’s nose as he did. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you back in your body eventually. I’ve got a lead.”

“Wait—really?!” Perking up much like an excited dog, Ace cheered and ran to give Kit a giant hug.

Only to fall flat on his face as he, once again, went right through. Kit’s laughter was heard all the way up to the sundeck.

[savannahsdeath]

Is there a chance you can toxic Ellie x reader. Where Reader was leaving Ellie for good and she never came back.

just a drabble since im still really busy but i had to write it because we all deserve something better than toxic!ellie!! i know i know we love ellie just, please, not the toxic one🩷

: ̗̀➛ the scene was going on for hours. you kept packing your things, she kept taking them and placing back on the shelves. your shirt had wet stains in places where your tears dropped and soaked into it.

"you're so dramatic." she smirked, taking a step forwards.

: ̗̀➛ you shook your head and wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand. "no, i am not. i won't let you ruin me. not anymore."

"who told you i ruin you?" her amused smile faded as she put her arms on her hips. "can't you see that this person, whoever it was, is manipulating you? they know you're nothing without me so they're trying to separate us. they're praying on your downfall and you? you're just helping them."

"why would my own best friend do something like that? no, ellie, you're just— insane, crazy, a fucking psycho, whatever!" you zipped up your backpack and picked it up.

: ̗̀➛ she watched as you carefully walked over the stairs. "you haven't even packed like... half of your things."

"oh well!" you sarcastically laughed. "you'll have a souvenir."

"so you don't plan on coming back for them?" she frowned, finally realising that, this time, you're serious.

: ̗̀➛ you didn't answer, putting your jacket on. she walked over to you and tried to kiss you, but you dodged her with a hiss.

"come on, babe" she sighed. "y'know how i can make it up to you..."

"just leave me alone" you begged and took a few steps backwards, until your back hit the door.

"don't make a scene" she bit her lip as she watched you make your way through the doorstep. "come back inside and we'll figure something out."

: ̗̀➛ you shook your head and finally turned around.

"okay" she nodded. "have a day off. but i'll find you. you know i will."

: ̗̀➛ you chuckled through your tears. "good luck"

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

: ̗̀➛ two days later you were in a train to a different state. this decision was spontaneous and you could as well end up being homeless but you were sure you'll survive, somehow. your friend - luccy called you, waking you up from a nap.

"she paid me a visit, to put it politely."

"god" you fully sat up and straightened up, immediately waking up. "how bad was it?"

"i expected worse" luccy chuckled. "it was kinda hilarious, actually. i didn't want to let her in but she, of course, made her way inside anyway. she quickly realised it's too late."

"but she didn't..." you paused, thinking of all the possibilities. your girlfriend, now ex, was capable of a lot of crazy things. "...uh— hurt you or anything?"

"oh, she was mad" luccy laughed again. "but no, she didn't do anything. i'd say we're safe, for now."

: ̗̀➛ you hummed. your plan wasn't too brilliant, but you did everything you could to not leave any clues. she won't find you, you knew she won't. and eventually, she'll completely give up and stop trying. maybe she'll even move on and find someone else? maybe even a healthy relationship?

let's hope so.

[ssentimentals]

hii! can you please do woozi with soft prompt #28 ><

the way this is sososo about woozi is making my head spin!! thank you of course for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

fluff prompt: 'look at you, so small and cute.' 'shut the hell up.'

when they said costume party, you immediately thought of paired costumes with jihoon. you also immediately thought of how he's going to hate it, but girlfriend privileges are strong and you are not above of exploiting them for your advantage. 'we have to go, baby! please!'

jihoon shakes his head without even looking. 'no.'

puppy eyes are a dirty tactic, but they always work; you try to use them only in extreme situations and this situation is extreme, because you really want to go and you want to go with your boyfriend.

'look at me. jihoon!' when he finally turns around, you attack him with your best puppy eyes. 'please?'

jihoon's left eye twitches. '...okay.'

jihoon likes to pretend that he's hating it, but in truth he doesn't even put up much fight. if he really didn't want to he'd make sure to let you know, so when all he does is just whine, you continue with your pursuit of finding best matching costumes. jihoon is obviously being dragged along as well, because it's more fun that way and because you know he's never going to wear something that he didn't approve before hand. 'are you done baby? come out?' you ask, twirling in your pretty blue dress. 'i'm ready, take a look!'

when jihoon walks out, you instantly coo despite his annoyed expression. 'look at you, so small and cute!'

jihoon grimaces. 'shut the hell up.'

you are meant to be alice from alice in the wonderland and jihoon is dressed as a mad rabbit and it's... brilliant, in your opinion. costume looks great and bunny ears on top are really doing the god's work of making him look adorable. too bad he doesn't agree though. 'i am taking this off.'

'nooo,' you whine, coming closer. 'but it looks so well and we're matching, see?'

jihoon rolls his eyes. 'i look horrible.' he then takes a good look on you and his frown gets replaced with a small smile. 'you look beautiful, baby.'

you grin, wrapping your arms around him. 'thank you, i really like it. don't you want to match with me?'

it's puppy eyes, of course. it's dirty and you promised to use it only in extreme situations, but this is one. jihoon tries to reject you, you can tell. his jaw is clenched and he looks like he's battling hard, but it's a lost battle, you both know it. with a resigned sigh, he nods. 'yeah, okay. let's buy this one.'

jihooon may act all grumpy, but when you cheer and kiss him, he's smiling into the kiss because your happiness is contagious and because your happiness is his priority. 'let's go to the cashier.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[desipotterhead18]

Another try in @ginnystrophyhusband

prompt : tongue-tied

Neville was leaning casually on the corridor wall in break rummaging his school bag. He saw Harry approaching towards him.

''Hi, where's Ron?''

''Went to do some prefect duty with Hermione , first years caused a ruckus , By the way have you-''

Harry was interrupted mid-sentence when they heard some rustling of feet behind them. They saw fifth years making their way smeared with dirt and dried mud , surely finished their Herbology class.

He saw Harry focused on one pretty redhead amongst them, aka Gryffindor's best chaser. He had seen so many boys looking, quite staring, at her, but there was something different in Harry's eyes when he was watching her.

Intresting

'' What were you saying harry?''

''ohh yeah...umm....'' ,stammered harry as if he just registered that he was too standing there.

''Hey Weasley''

A voice echoed in the corridor, making everyone turn their head to the speaker, but not as quickly as Harry did, though.

Neville saw that fifth year Ravenclaw boy, whom he had met once when he was sitting beside him during one quidditch match.

''Did you give it a thought on what we spoke earlier'', the boy said flashing her a very cheesy smile.

''I told you I am not interested, Mark.

Neville quickly gathered he asked her out now that she is single. He looked at Harry who was looking quite shocked.

''Maybe you could just give it a try'' said Mark.

''How about I give it a try for my hex'' came back her response.

''Well , I am here when you decide'' said mark , ignoring her previous retort and went away with his friends.

She had a disgusted expression on her face but quickly smiled when she found them. Harry was suddenly adjusting his position.She greetted them both while walking towards them.

''Hii , I was looking for you Neville'' she said opening her bag and withdrawing the herbology notes she borrowed from him.

''Thanku , it helped so much''

''Anytime''

''So, what's up , captain?'', she said while keeping her arm on his shoulder.

''Nothing much'', he managed while blushing at the proximity or at her comment , maybe both.

''Well , Have you booked the pitch today, weather is amazing''

''I am so sorry , ranvenclaw booked it already'' he said looking so disappointed in himself.

''That's second time ravenclaw has made me mad today'' said Ginny with a grimace.

''Was he bothering you'' said harry looking concerned.

''Nothing I can't manage'' she said giving him a wink.

''Of course''

Neville saw harry's eyes twinkle , lips crooked up a dazzling smile and cheeks flushed. Basically a very rare sight of The Chossen One.

''OK then I have to go , see you later'' said ginny turning on her feet and harry watched her go till she was out of sight.

''I guess ginny is used to all this , she is quite famous at school'' said neville " she is good person "

"She is brilliant, brave, so pretty and..."said harry hastily.

Neville smiled at so obviously lovesick harry.He actually hope they soon will get together because they make a good pair.

''One day I'll ask her out'' whispered harry with a sigh.

Neville obviously gaped at him but harry doesn't seem to notice at first but then took neville's sight. He could see the shock covering his face.

''Did I said that out loud''

When Neville nodded , he turned red and swore under his breath.

''So can you just forget that''

''No''

He looked absolutely mortified.

''Please don't tell anyone'' begged harry.

Neville just smirked at him , enjoying this.

Haery was left tongue-tied.

A/N : I think it turned out pretty well , plz leave your thoughts.

[bwat5-blog]

**Spoilers for all of Arcane**

WHY THIS SHOW MATTERS FOR ME

"Why do we tell Stories? To try and make sense of a world that can be terrifying and enormous.. I don't know that your story will be long be known.. but it did happen- and it did matter"- Brennan Lee Mulligan, Critical Role, EXU Calamity

Arcane has become a true phenomenon. With record breaking viewership transcending various countries, age groups, sexual orientation, and more. You need look no further for an example than the fact that Heimerdinger's song was recorded more than 25 times by the various voice actors representing our favorite absent minded professor, in different countries and languages around the world. So I suppose the question then, is why?

This is hardly a simple question. Like any media, people are enjoying it for all kinds of reasons. There are die-hard LOL players who love seeing these characters and worlds brought to life. There are people reveling in the enormous diversity of representation in the characters. There are those who love the story of the sisters, Caitlyn and Vi's love story, or the sinister mystery that unfolds as the Arcane itself wakes up in this world. The list of reasons people love this show is endless and rightfully so. So I am writing to explain mine because, primarily, the opportunity to share my thoughts/feelings on this incredible story and discuss, and learn and interact with you all has been a true pleasure as we celebrate the achievement this tale has been. As always, for anyone bored enough to read these I appreciate you.

For me, the best stories have and always will make you look deeper into the humanity of our own world through the lens of the story itself. Don't get me wrong, Arcane is FULL of epic spectacle. incredible fights, beautiful animation and music, and more. It's a tale of magic unleashed and warlords and mad scientists. And please do NOT misunderstand me, I LOVE all of those things. It's just that for me, that's not why this story will always live on long after its over.

Vi is a bad-ass brawler who from a young age is literally holding her own with armed adult thugs and able to throw hands wearing Vander's gauntlets. She is tough and brave and an absolute hardass..She is also a young woman who never knew romantic affection before being thrown into a dark, terrifying prison for seven years.. Who is terrified of losing the last family she has left to the point that she cannot put herself first ..and who just needs her dad

Silco is a brutal crime lord who experiments on the vulnerable of the under city and does not hesitate to kill anyone who crosses him. He takes a scared little girl who is in so much pain and twists her up, and weaponizes her grief to the point that she becomes someone new.. someone darker.. He is also a broken, lonely, maimed man who was almost killed by someone he loved as a brother and is desperately trying to hold on to the young woman he loves as a daughter

Caitlyn is a sheltered but brilliant and wealthy woman who is "an excellent shot" ,and becomes a leader of soldiers and someone willing to sacrifice herself in the name of the greater good.. She is also a young woman who has to learn to see herself in the woman she hates/who killed her mother, learning to set aside that hatred, and rage, and grief in order to move on and keep living, and find peace.

I could go on about other characters or expound on the ones I just mentioned, and have in fact done so in other posts. But you get the idea. These characters (and the others) are so rich, dark, nuanced and beautiful. And when you strip away the magic, and the mutated beasts, and the colorful smoke and music what is left? The struggle of the oppressed against their oppressors, a young woman overcoming her inner demons to become a hero to her people, a warrior who had her childhood stolen from her learning that she deserves happiness and peace. I could go on. There are so many of these examples and they all make up the tapestry that is this show.

This is why I continue to champion understanding and accurate recognition of this show. Because it deserves it. Because the stories of these characters and their fight against the darkness of the world in ways grand and small, are the stories that have illuminated our path forward as people for all of time. In today's age of instant-gratification and flash and noise it's easy to forget the impact of things like this on who we are.. But to those of us who believe in the importance of such stories, it always has mattered. And it always will.

“It's like the great stories, Mr. Frodo, the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn't want to know the end because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad has happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing this shadow, even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer. I know now folks in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going because they were holding on to something. That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for.”

― Samwise Gamgee

[thevindicativevordan]

Hi, hope you are doing well. I am the anon who asked this question about the Maker (post/730144525324009472/im-conflicted-about-the-maker-as-a-character-on) and I wanted to know what are your thoughts on the Marvel Universe as remade by the Maker? I understand that most of it is a comentary/analogy to real life events, with technocompanies rulling the USA, the USA doing experiments in the Pacific with radiation, basically everything Midas stand for, etc. But, looking from the Maker point of view, how do you think it fits with what he wants? And what do you think he wants, in the end?

Perfect time to ask me this because after I got temp banned from the CBR Forums recently, I decided to read all of Ultimate Fantastic Four. I need to amend my earlier post regarding the Maker - he does actually feel like a believable evolution on the flaws that were always present in 1610 Reed:

Even before he became a homicidal maniac, 1610 Reed Richards was a dick. There was a mean streak and petulancy that I had forgotten about. A willingness to walk riiiiiiiight up to the moral divide that was present from the very beginning. Millar, Bendis, and Ellis all established Maker as having a darker side. Using torture against Doom was on the table, he flat out rejected the possibility that he had made a mistake, he did messed up science experiments for fun. The pieces were all there! Alas the execution sucked. I still stand by what I posted here regarding the Ultimate Doom trilogy:

Bendis' depiction of his "fall" was awful and incoherent. Under Bendis, Reed instantly becomes the type of guy willing to commit cold blooded murder against both his family and other heroes for no real reason. If Reed is pissed about the military controlling everything, why is he trying to kill Peter Parker? Shouldn't he be trying to kill Nick Fury and destroy SHIELD? That at least would make sense, Ultimate Nick Fury is a fucking awful person. Instead he murders his entire family instead of just his asshole dad because... I don't know, he's just evil now. A writer can't write someone smarter than them, and Bendis is just not the guy for tackling the world's smartest heroic mind descending into villainy. Reed's plan is dumb and paper thin.

Coldly murdering his mother and sister Enid - his sister whom he went through all the effort to save from Psycho-Man in one of the final UFF arcs! - reads even more egregiously out of character. Why did he kill those two and not just his asshole dad? No clue, Bendis never bothered to give us an explanation. Trying to kill all of SHIELD after the UFF fall apart makes perfect sense to me after reading Ultimate Power for the first time. 1610 Nick Fury is evil. Fury is a monster whom even Dick Cheney would have to kneel in awe before. Asshole deserves to die and SHIELD should be destroyed. Sending suicide bombers to murder Spider-Man and his other heroic peers on the other hand?

No Bendis, you need to actually explain WTF Maker was thinking there because that makes no sense AND it doesn't line up with his previous characterization! Maker didn't want to kill the zombie F4 despite them 1. Being undead and 2. Planning to infect and eat everyone on his Earth. He wasn't willing to kill Doom even after Ultimatum. Then suddenly off-screen he becomes the kind of guy who murders his sister who only ever looked up to and worshiped him, and his mother who tried to support him and showed him nothing but love? Terrible writing, and it makes me so mad because everything else is brilliant setup unintentional though it was.

Pages like this one floored me. You read this knowing they were not setting up Maker yet somehow it perfectly does just that. The other Baxter Building kids breaking off to form their own perfect society in a secret city tucked away from private eyes? Being sick of how they were forced to serve the military? Commitment to the idea to the point they're willing to kill the F4 and any military personnel sent after them? In-universe this, and other events like Psycho-Man's utopia, likely served as the foundation for where Maker came up with the idea of the City. Everything fits! It's a natural result of Maker having an enormous ego, having seen others make their own attempts at building utopias, tossing morality aside, and going "they failed but I'll succeed. I don't make mistakes like they do."

Begs the question OP asked: why did he make Earth 6160 into the way it is? Fantastic question especially considering that both as a hero, and during his initial fall to villainy, Maker hated the "corruption" of science into a force that only served the elite.

Yet the world of 6160 is exactly what he claimed to hate! America collapsed into a realm ruled by technocrats who abused science to enrich themselves. Freaking Midas is in the White House using cosmic energy as a power source for his war suit and the electric grid. What gives? Is it just Maker being a hypocrite? Maker offers two justifications in Ultimate Invasion. First, that he ran civilization models in the City and humanity cannot accept perfect peace. If you've ever watched the Matrix you know how that argument goes. We aren't built to live in paradise. Our human natures are too fallible, when offered the option we reject it. Given Maker's god complex it does suit him that he invokes the Biblical explanation for why evil exists - human nature demands it.

However, there's a second justification. Maker treats Earth 6160 as his playground, his laboratory. He's the Emperor of the World, and with that comes those who would covet his throne. Keeping the world full of conflicts and evils keeps people divided. They're so busy fighting each other that they can't unite against him. Hitler, Genghis Khan, Bismarck, Stalin, Mao, history is full of dictators who employed similar logic to maintain power. Yes it makes him a hypocrite but Maker is beyond caring about the "small minded" dreams he had back before he jumped off the slippery slope.

Regarding what he wants power for, there are two likely motives to parallel his two justifications. I believe he is trying to create the "Ultimate Earth", an Earth that lives up to what he wanted 1610 to be. Time travelling to the future indicates that he is at the very least invested in this Earth's well-being. He saved it from Galactus, he kept the Council from spiraling out of control as they now threaten to do in his absence. He supported scientific and technological advancements that did improve life for everyone. Howard mentions curing cancer. Maker's Ultimate Earth appears to be a technologically advanced society where the peoples lives are improved at the cost of their freedom. In a single word: Latveria. Fitting for a Reed who has gone the way of Doom.

Unsurprisingly Maker's other motive is much more selfish and narcissistic: he wants to screw with Earth 6160 Reed.

Mentioned this before somewhat in my previous post:

My theory is that it's because Maker is trying to take a Reed who is similar to 616 Reed and transform the guy into a monster like him. It's his middle finger to 616 Reed. Maker wants to prove that 616 Reed isn't better than him, if Mr. Fantastic had lost his family and been put through hell like Maker had, he would break too. That 6160 Reed is, so far, not a monster like Maker pisses Maker off. It's not logical to keep 6160 Reed around, and doing so leads to Maker's fall.

Additionally there's some clear self-hatred going on.

Note the callback to UFF with the "I don't make mistakes" line. People talk about Sue rejecting the marriage offer as being the big divergence point between the 616 and 1610 Reeds. I think it goes back even further. 616 Reed was the one who messed up his friends lives. 1610 Reed however was blameless. 1610 Doom, not Reed, was the one who caused the accident that gave the Four their powers. In Ultimate Power it was Doom's meddling which was revealed to have killed millions of people despite Maker initially being blamed. Maker never had to feel the guilt that Mr. Fantastic has to live with. Always when it seemed like he had screwed up, a reveal came to absolve him of any responsibility. Arguably his two greatest pre-Maker screw-ups were teleporting to the zombie Earth and creating the Cosmic Cube and guess what? Both of those were because of external agents in the forms of zombie Reed and Thanos meddling with his head.

So having done nothing wrong his whole life, never having screwed up with nobody to blame but himself, when Sue dumped him and his whole life fell apart because he put saving the world over his personal desires in Ultimatum? Knowing, thanks to zombie Reed, that there were Reeds out there who got married and had families and kept the Four together despite making mistakes? My headcanon is that's what broke him. Also that's why he made Doom's life hell. 6160 Reed was supposed to live the life 616 Reed got, the kind of life Maker wanted. Instead he lost everything. Why? Because from Maker's point of view, Doom doesn't deserve that kind of happiness. Why should Maker, a Reed who never made mistakes, be the one Reed denied that joy while all the Reeds who are responsible for transforming their friends get to have that?

So Maker took 6160 Reed and gave him the life he thinks Mr. Fantastic should've gotten. 6160 Reed made the mistake of not double checking his notes and lost everything. He ended up with the burnt face and Doom moniker because from Maker's point of view, that is what should have happened to 616 Reed. Maker should be the beloved hero with the fantastic family as befitting a Reed who never made mistakes, not the unworthy Reeds who are fallible. In Maker's mind, 616 Reed should be the one whose Sue rejected him and became a villain. His words in Ultimate Invasion about having thought about what he and 616 Reed would be like if they swapped lives support this.

There's a beautiful symmetry going on here between Maker and Doom. Dooms usually blame Reeds for ruining their lives by sabotaging Doom's experiments. Here is a Doom for whom that belief is valid, and his obsession with Maker completely justified. Except it's himself that he's obsessed with, just as Maker is clearly obsessed with Mr. Fantastic. A grand ouroboros of Reeds chasing after one another. Fitting, for Reeds have always been their own worse enemies.

[topazadine]

Extremely controversial writing opinions that will make you mad (but I'm going to say them anyway)

I don't know why but I am in the mood to be pilloried. Before I start, I will show you a picture of my dog so you realize I'm not a heartless monster.

Anyway, obviously this is just my opinion and you are perfectly free to disagree.

None of this is some hard-and-fast rule or even a universal truth.

It is just my opinion as someone who has 15 years of experience, has written about 2 million words, has an English degree, tutored dozens of students, etc etc etc.

Even if it seems like I am universalizing, I am not. Take what you like and leave the rest. Ignore it all if you want. That's your right.

Here we go. Please, don't throw your tomatoes until the end of the post. It distracts me.

Your first book probably sucks (with caveats).

Ideas are pointless if you don't do anything with them.

You are not a writer unless you consistently write.

Making moodboards, playlists, etc, before you have started the project is a form of procrastination.

No one cares about your idea as much as you do and never will.

Most people in your life will not care about your book.

A lot of peoples' opinions about writing are useless to you.

You need to develop healthy self-esteem if you want to be a good writer.

You also need to be humble and have a beginner's mindset forever.

Being mentally ill doesn't make you a better writer. It just means you're mentally ill.

Your real actual life matters more than your writing.

You will burn out if you don't have other hobbies.

Okay, okay, let's make you hate me.

Your first book probably sucks (with caveats).

If this is your first ever long project in writing, it is likely not going to be publishable (or, perhaps, even readable). It takes years, sometimes decades, to learn how to write well.

Do not think that because you have one singular idea and have slapped a book together that you can publish it to widespread acclaim. People who do this are deeply overestimating the quality of their work, seeing it through rose-tinted glasses.

One of my first long-form writing projects as sort of an adult was utter garbage. You can read it if you want; it's a BBC Sherlock fanfic. And it's fucking awful. I had written a lot of smaller things before this, but nothing to this scale. That much is quite obvious.

I'm grateful I started my journey writing fanfic, because otherwise I would have thought this was brilliant life-changing stuff.

In fact, I actually put together a copy of all my Sherlock fanfics called 11 Ways of Playing a Stradivarius that is probably floating around somewhere on the internet (though it got smacked down for copyright infringement eventually, because I was stupid). It sold absolutely zero copies, and rightly so. It's bad.

And that is okay. Shitty writing is par for the course when you are learning. It doesn't mean you'll never be good. It just means you're not there yet.

I have, to my great relief, improved immeasurably over the years, to the point where I have felt confident selling my work for real human money. You can purchase the culmination of that hard work right this instant, if you so choose. Should you do so, I am certain you will see exactly how much I've grown as a writer.

Ideas are pointless if you don't do anything with them.

I know I have said this before but I just need to drill it into your heads. Your idea means nothing unless you actually write the damn thing.

Millions of people have story ideas. Most of them will never do anything with those ideas. At best, they'll daydream about it but make up a billion excuses why they can't. At second-worst, they will badger actual writers to do the idea for them.

At worst worst, they will use AI to do it for them and call it a day. And we will all hate them for it.

You do not need to be protective of your idea or hide it, because someone has already thought of it and then made excuses as to why they can't be bothered to execute it. You have to be the one who doesn't fall into the trap and does the damn thing.

Look, I'll give you all the story ideas I have if you want. I don't care. In fact, I share them frequently and encourage others to give it a shot if they want to.

I'm not hiding any ideas because I know you will not do it exactly as I will. My voice is unique and it doesn't matter if there are dozens of people with the same idea: my story will be mine, and no one else's.

You are not a writer unless you consistently write.

This doesn't mean writing for five hours every day, or even doing 100 words every day. When I get to the tail end of the project, I tend to start slowing down because I have to think more critically about how to tie everything together. During the active drafting phase, I might do 2,000 words per day, but things ease up at the end, both because I'm sad that this phase is almost over and because I don't have much left to do.

But you don't get to call yourself a writer if you write like 100 words a month and spend the rest of the time doing moodboards and talking about your ideas. Whatever your rhythm, you need to stick with it and develop discipline, or you just have an idea and nothing else.

Making moodboards, playlists, etc, before you have started the project is a form of procrastination.

Note I said before you have really gotten into the meat of your project. Moodboards are a great way to promo your project and get peoples' attention, because visuals are more interesting than a wall of text. (That's why I start these kinds of posts with a picture.)

Oh, there's another one!

The thing is that a lot of would-be writers get trapped by the "oh this is research, this is plotting, this is giving me ideas, this is inspo." It's not. It's visual daydreaming and nothing more.

Any time that I have done a moodboard before starting a story, I give up on that story, because then I feel like I've done most of the work when I categorically have not. When I do moodboards once I get to the halfway point, I'm already in the home stretch and have no reason to stop. When I do a moodboard after I am already done and in the revision stage, then I'm good to go and building hype for my project.

Do not waste your time doing moodboards and playlists and visuals before you do the real stuff: worldbuilding, plotting, hammering out characterization. Get started before you start playing around with pretty pictures because it's not really getting you anywhere.

No one cares about your idea as much as you do and never will.

This is pretty self-explanatory so I won't expound too much. Your writing is the most important thing to you, but everyone else has their own stuff going on. If you're building hype with other writers, they have their own projects and are not going to be your free promotional team. They want your attention for their stuff, not yours.

Most people in your life will not really care about your book.

Again, everyone's got their own things going on. Also, most non-writers don't really understand how difficult it is to write a whole book. They are consumers and see the finished project; it's content to them. They care about you, to be sure, but your book doesn't really click as a big accomplishment because they're not familiar with the process.

You may notice, and seethe slightly, that relatively mundane things like weddings, graduations, and baby announcements will get WAY more attention than your book. A friend showing their ultrasound pic will get dozens of likes and comments and congratulations, while like 1 person will say "good job!" when you announce your book.

This is because these kinds of announcements are more relatable to the average person. They may have gotten married, or graduated, or had a baby (and of course probably know dozens of people who have) so they are aware of the challenges and joys.

Unless you are friends with exclusively other writers, your achievement is abstract, and your friends can't really sympathize. Your book is just a way to pass some time.

A lot of peoples' opinions about writing are useless to you.

I do not really like getting beta readers from places like r/betareaders because I have no idea how much that person actually knows about writing. Being able to visualize and suggest ways forward requires an understanding of the craft, but many people think that because they like to read, they know how to critique, when they are completely different skills.

Yes, unknowledgeable beta readers can give you a "man on the street" perspective of your book, but they tend to forget that beta readers are meant to help you fix your book as it is. Not turn it into something they personally would enjoy reading if they are not the target audience.

This requires recognizing audience and putting aside one's own preferences to focus on how the book would come across to an imagined ideal reader. Not everyone can do this. Actually, most people can't.

Some of the dumbest comments I've gotten about my work are from people who want to wrest control away from me and make it their preferred genre/plot/etc. These are useless suggestions.

Wonderful beta readers help to enhance your story, and they are golden. Instead of demanding you do something different, they offer their honest reactions of the work as it is and suggest opportunities to enrich the writing, tweak it, deepen the characterization, and so on.

Helpful beta readers are typically other writers regardless of their specific writing level. Newbie writers can be an excellent resource! And you're helping them, too: they will see your mistakes and know what not to do, and they can learn from your strengths. It's a positive experience all around.

Writers must come to understand what is good advice and what is not. Essentially, anyone who suggests things that are completely out of left field and totally unrelated to what you're trying to do is giving bad advice, and you should ignore them.

You need to develop healthy self-esteem if you want to be a good writer.

When you constantly put yourself down, complain about how bad your first draft is, say you have no idea what you're doing, and insist that no one will ever enjoy your work, guess what: you're right.

But you're right because you're essentially telling other people that your work sucks and they should not give it a chance. What you say about your writing will influence how readers interact with your work. You are priming them to dislike your writing and telling them what to think.

Imposter syndrome strikes all of us at times, but you need to push through it. One of the best ways to do so is to just continue writing. Keep going. Soon enough, you will develop experience, and experience will create confidence, and that confidence will shine through in your work.

When you consider saying something self-deprecating about your work, stop. You're going to make it come true.

You also need to be humble and have a beginner's mindset forever.

Doing so means understanding the difference between being self-deprecating and being humble.

Self-deprecation is when someone says your work is great and you immediately go "oh you're saying that to be nice, it's awful, I hate it."

Humility is when someone says your work is great and you go "Thank you!" and leave it at that.

You're not gloating or bragging by saying thank you, but you're also not cutting yourself off at the knees and making people uncomfortable by self-flagellating.

Honestly, the best thing you can ever say when you get a compliment about anything, including your writing, is just "thank you." Nothing else. Maybe an "I appreciate it" or "I'm glad you think so!" You don't need to go into detail.

But humility also means acknowledging that no matter how long you have been writing, there is always something you can do better. You will always be learning and making mistakes. Thinking you've peaked is when your writing gets stale and boring.

I have been learning rock climbing, and one of my favorite things to do is to watch pro climbers critique their own technique. They're not self-deprecating or saying they're horrible, but they're also not claiming they are perfect and can never do anything better.

Magnus Midtbø is incredible because even though he is a truly masterful climber, he posts a lot about his fails or when other climbers make him eat shit. This is an amazing video of him getting wrecked by an Olympic climber and taking it on the chin! He doesn't whine about how bad he is, he's just like "hmm, yeah, I can see where I screwed up, I'm so glad that I got to watch you climb, this is an honor."

That is the perfect blend of confidence and humility. He knows he can improve, but he doesn't deride his own skill. This is the mindset you need as a writer.

Being mentally ill doesn't make you a better writer. It just means you're mentally ill.

Anyone can be a good writer. Mental illness does not give you a super-secret advantage. It actually puts you at a disadvantage because your brain is expending so much energy staying stable that it does not have the same capacity as other people.

Fix your mental health issues instead of using them as a crutch or deluding yourself into believing they make you special. Like half of the population will develop some type of mental illness during their lifetime, and insisting that you need your mental illness to write is trapping you by making you not want to get help.

I have severe bipolar. This does not necessarily make me a great writer. In fact, it can make my writing suck ass if I am not stable. And no, you are not somehow exempt from having consequences for refusing to take care of your mental health. I promise you that you will be a better writer when you have sorted out your mental health issues.

Your real actual life matters more than your writing.

This is related to the above point. Your mental health, your stability, your social circle are all crucial elements of being a good, productive writer, and you can't ignore them in favor of suffering for your art.

The quality of my work has skyrocketed at two significant points in my life: once when I got out of a relationship that was hurting me and once when I ditched a toxic friend. The first one was when I started writing fanfic again, and the second was when I finally began The Eirenic Verses.

I would not have written 2 million words if I still had those nasty influences in my life, and I would not be living my best life. I likely never would have found my favorite hobbies and started going to therapy if I was still trapped in those negative cycles. Attending to my real-life problems both enhanced my writing and made me a better, more likeable, more functional person. I expect you will find the same thing.

You will burn out if you don't have other hobbies.

Hobbies. I cannot stress enough how important it is to have other hobbies that have nothing to do with writing. Yes, it means you have less time to write, but it also means that when you do sit down and write, you have better focus because you've fulfilled your other needs.

I picked up horseback riding again in February of this year and go once a week. I can't stress enough how good this has been for my writing and for my overall well-being. I have pretty bad agoraphobia, but since I started riding again, I have been less scared of leaving the house and less worried about what people think about me. My world has become larger and friendlier.

Now I'm doing rock climbing too. The physical and mental stimulation helps me focus better when I write, and I get way more done in less time. Plus, the quality of that writing is better because I'm getting more bloodflow into my brain and nourishing the tissues. There's also the fact that when I do have time to write, I'm not burned out and frustrated because all I've been doing all day is writing.

I look forward to my writing sessions more because they feel like a treat, and I have gotten a self-esteem boost by doing well in the gym. I am happier, calmer, and sleeping better due to the exercise.

Well-adjusted humans need social outlets, physical movement, a strong support network, good nutrition, and opportunities to relax. Our horrible capitalist system makes it very hard to balance all of these, but you must at least try.

Your hobbies don't need to be expensive. It can be something as simple as drawing, or going for a long nature walk, or learning origami, or buying a used camera and learning photography. Go to your local library and take a free course! Join a cheap gym and go a few times a week. Teach yourself something using YouTube. Buy secondhand equipment on Craigslist. There are so many affordable options.

Again, caring for your overall well-being is a true godsend when it comes to writing. Having something else to fulfill you will help you push through those hard days when nothing is coming to you, and it offers your brain a break from plotting, writing, revising, etc.

So that's it. If you read this to the very end, you're quite the gem; I know this was excruciatingly long. And mean.

Since you're here, maybe you will consider purchasing my debut novel, which was written by applying all these tips. (And not using AI - fuck off, NaNoWriMo.)

9 Years Yearning is a coming-of-age gay romance set in a fantasy world with poetry magic. It follows two young men as they grow from sorta-enemies, to frenemies, to friends, and finally to lovers.

If you do read it, please don't forget to leave a review!

Even if it's mean. Don't worry, I won't be mad. Reviews are essential to getting visibility on Amazon, so every single one is golden to me.

[darlenicy]

Light Rock Driven AU

I only wanted to reply shortly to ren's @redfountainpostin 's question under her post:

which was about my previous tags:

but it turned out longer than I thought:

So, in the Light Rock au, Darcy stays there when Darkar shows up because a) she has endured enough instability and sees the time at Light Rock as a chance to start new. Part of her simply wants a normal life. Power is nice, but she just cannot live as an ostracized. And b) because she doesn't trust Darkar? She's a bookworm she might have already read about the legends of the Shadow Phoenix. There is no fucking way she'd go with such a shady guy. It hurts leaving her sisters, but as I said before. She can't life like this forever. She regrets so much. She regrets using Riven as her pawn. She regrets that she couldn't get enough. She regrets that so many people had to die because of their mad plan. She has nightmares of the old times. She hates how the excellent student she was has turned into a criminal because of an idée fixe.

So long story short. She stays and Icy and Stormy leave with Darkar. Icy is pissed that Darcy wants to through "everything away". Stormy is fkn sad, that her bestie leaves them. She gets very emotional later on and cries later when Icy isn't around. But this au is not about them. It's about Darcy and Riven. So what happens next?

No, Darcy doesn't warn anyone. In fact all the guardians of Light Rock saw Darkar in his phoenix form. It's reported straight away. (So Faragonda knows again and DOESN'T TELL THE WINX LIKE SHE ALWAYS DOES). She simply stays. Of course she gets interrogated but it turns out that she really doesn't know anything. The fact that she stayed makes the gurardians and monks more favourable towards Darcy. But they also make sure that she gets no informations from outside Light Rock. They make sure that she can't read her sisters under any circumstances to support her redemption. It's hard for her and her mental health suffers a lot. When it gets worse and worse, she is invited by the nuns (yes they live there too, I decided that) to visit the big library of the monastery. Darcy is a bookworm and she is also an excellent researcher. So she helps the nuns researching important texts and historic documents. She loves doing something she is really good at. In fact she is brilliant not only in researching but also in interpreting. This gains her the respect and fondness of the nuns who actively support her. These activities helps her a lot and also firm her decision to stay there. That is also when she decides to cut of her hair. She wants to become a new person and leave the old Darcy behind. So in the end she wears a short bob and becomes a novitiate of the monastery.

This process took about a year. And then suddenly one day she meets Riven again. He doesn't know shit and just came there to visit the library, because it contains important ancient old scrips about a material art he wants to research.

The scene is like this: He comes into the library and Darcy is there too. On a ladder to reach some books of the higher shelves. She looks at the books as she hears footprints. Not the silent ones from the nuns and novitiates. Firm steps. And then he hears his voice, asking her where he can find the books XYZ and ZYX. He only sees her back and doesn't recognize her. She also wears a light veil. She recognizes his voice immediately and oh the overthinking is back: It's Riven. What is he doing here? Why did he come here the moment I am here? What will he do if he recognizes me? How will he react? Will he be mad? Will he be embarrassed? Does he hate me? He should hate me after all I have done. So she stiffens and says: The XYZ books are over there in the other part of the library.

Riven: "Wait, I know you."

Darcy, whispering: "I doubt it."

Riven: "I'm sorry, I don't want to be rude to a novitiate... But your voice..."

Darcy: "You know my old self, Riven." And turns around.

Riven gasps. He gasps because he didn't expect to see Darcy here. Because he didn't expect Darcy with her beautiful hair cut short. Darcy with a veil.

Darcy, embarassed, brushing a brand of her now short hair behind her ear: "The books you are looking for are over there." She points in the opposite direction and wants to pass by. But she stops. He is reaching for her hand at the same time.

Riven: "Sorry... I just didn't expect you here like..."

Darcy: "Like this?"

Riven: "I mean surrounded by books is totally your thing but..."

Darcy: "I know. It's okay. We can just pretend that we never met. You go research your things..and leave again."

Riven: "Darcy - "

Darcy: "But before you go, please." She faces him, her eyes blurry. "They don't tell me anything from outside. What did happen to Icy and Stormy? Are they... alive?"

Rivens, stiffens too. Firstly because he knows where they are. The Omega dimension. Bad news and secondly…because she didn’t ask about him. But in the end what could he tell her about himself? Hey, I’m dating Musa now. It’s hard because I can’t forget me and you did so much shit to me that I can barely heal…. So he just says: “After Darkar was defeated they were sent to Omega Dimension.”

Darcy steps back, her eyes widened in shock. “Omega dimension…”

Riven: “Darcy, I’m sorry but they’re probably –“

Darcy: “No it’s okay.” She brushes a tear from her cheek. “That time is over for me anyway.” They are not my business anymore and still… they were my sisters. She rushes to the door. “Farewell.” She doesn’t want he to see her crying.. again. Darcy hates being weak. And yet Riven was one of the few persons she showed weakness towards. The other two were freezing to death in Omega right now.

Riven, yelling: “Wait.”

Darcy stops at the door but doesn’t turn around.

Riven: “Are you here often?”

Darcy, shrugs: “Every day.”

Riven: “Then we’ll meet again.” A spark of a smile on his face.

Darcy doesn’t know how to deal with it and leaves, trying not to burst into tears. Once she reaches her cell, she breaks together crying. Over the missed chance she had with Riven and the possible death of her sisters. The sisters she had given everything up for. Even Riven.

When Riven returns to Red Fountain after their first meeting he is pale and serious so Brandon jokes: “Did you see a ghost.” And Riven replies. “I did.” And then he tells them about their encounter. And the boys are: Don’t you dare see her again. But he can’t help it and returns to Light Rock from time to time…more and more regularly. They will meet more often. And each time they get closer again. But by bit.

Maybe after I finish “Our abyss” this will come next! <3

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Get to know your moots.

Thanks for the tag @almostempty and @probablyreadinsmut 💗

what's the origin of your blog title?: “When it comes to love I don’t choose sides” y'all know where it comes from, right? Oberyn 💗 it represents me well heheh

favorite fandoms: PPCU and I used to be a huge GOT fan.

OTP(s) + shipname: Braime, Jaime Lannister + Brienne of Tarth (don't talk to me about that shitty ending, it still haunts me in my sleep)

favorite color: black. But also red, white and pink.

favorite game: I don't play videogames since I was a child but I used to love Tetris and Pac-Man lol

song stuck in your head: currently Messy - Lola Young and another couple of songs I'm using for a ff I'm writing so no spoilers heheheh

weirdest habit/trait?: I have a closet full of clothes but I often tend to wear the same ones in rotation (I obviously wash them regularly 😂) out of convenience and habit, especially if I have to go to work. I only make an effort if I have dinners/birthdays/special occasions and things like that lol

And I regularly think that people hate me, so if I don't write to you often it's because I'm afraid of bothering you, not because I don't want to know you 🥲

hobbies: writing, reading, watching show/movies, I used to have a bullet journal and I used to practice hand lettering (can't keep up with it anymore but I still love it)

if you work, what's your profession?: I am the secretary in a medical office. I also have another job related to customer satisfaction.

if you could have any job you wish what would it be?: I'd love to be a writer (lol not skilled or even talented enough but hey, what do you expect from someone who shares her birthday with Emily Brontë?)

something you're good at: I’m quite good at cooking. I’m Italian, baby, it’s in my genes.

something you're bad at: I’m messy. I can draw like a 5 years old kid lol

something you love: concerts. I’ve been to 100+ concerts in my life and some of my favorite memories and trips are related to concerts I've been to.

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: I could still rant about Braime and GoT ending for hours. lol Also, concerts memories, I have some good stories 😂

something you hate: Lies. God, just tell me the truth ffs. And the majority of cis men. They just suck, you know.

something you collect: nothing. But I love stationary stuff. I could buy everything, I don't do it because I would waste my savings LMAO

something you forget: If I don't write things down on my phone it's very easy for me to forget them because my memory sucks.

what's your love language?: Cooking for someone, calling people a variety of pet names and/or finding a special one for them, being a great cheerleader, shower them with compliments and love. Just being there when they need help, I am a reliable person.

favorite movie/show: too many, jeeez. How am i supposed to choose? Some movies: When Harry met Sally, Parasite, Almost Famous, Fried Green Tomatoes, Brokeback Mountains, Stand by me, Aftersun, Past Lives, Promising young woman, 10 things I hate about you, Love me if you dare, Rear window, Le conseguenze dell’amore (The consequences of love, it’s an Italian movie by Paolo Sorrentino).

Some shows: Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, Friends, Fleabag, Jane the Virgin, My Brilliant Friend, When they see us, Sense8, Peaky Blinders, Mad Men, The Handmaid’s Tale, Grace and Frankie, Bojack Horseman, Normal People.

favorite food: sorry to be such an Italian clichè but pasta and pizza. I could eat them all day everyday lol I also love a good risotto, sushi and Pad Thai.

favorite animal: dogs. I love all of them but especially mine (obviously lol).

are you musical?: I can sing quite decently (I sing in in my car all the time hahahah) but I never studied music and I can’t play any instruments.

what were you like as a child?: I used to be bold and chatty, I always loved reading and writing.

favorite subject at school?: Literature and Art.

least favorite subject?: Math. I’m the worst at it.

what's your best character trait?: loyalty and respect. I never make unsolicited judgments about anyone's body or comment on it, I never ask those shitty questions like "when are you graduating, when are you getting married, why are you still single, when are you having a baby" you know, right? I hate them, I hate them deeply and I think people should mind their own fucking business.

what's your worst character trait?: Lack of self-esteem, laziness, my poor memory. And I don’t give second chances, once you hurt me you’re out of my life permanently and I totally forget about you like you meant nothing for me (I kinda love that about me but I know it can be brutal lol)

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be?: I wish I was damn rich and not have to work hahah I would like to be more sporty but I hate doing sports lol I promise I’m going to try to force myself to do something for my well being.

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet?: The first person that comes to my mind is Artemisia Gentileschi, (b: 1593 d: 1656) she was an Italian painter. Read something about her, she’s fucking great ♥️ Also, my grandpa, I loved him so much and he passed away when I was 15. I would love to meet him again.

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!):

I love so many so I’m going with last ones that I read and I thought WOW, this is amazing and deserves so much more attention:

Yes ma’am - @sizzlingcloudmentality

Law of attraction series - @baronessvonglitter

Pretty boy - @joelmillerisapunk

Npt: @joelmillerisapunk @milla-frenchy @baronessvonglitter @aurorawritestoescape @thundermartini @schnarfer @sizzlingcloudmentality @cvntclip @evolnoomym @msjarvis @arcanefox207 @gothcsz 💗

[lucien0501]

LETTERS (Wolfstar Oneshot)

Summary: Letters from Sirius Black to Remus Lupin from Azkaban. He isn’t allowed to send the letters so they’re only one sided, which definitely makes it sad. There are a few mentions of fun past Marauders moments/pranks!:) Harry Potter Marauders Fandom

Note: I do not support the views of the author (I am a trans person so....no🤬) but I love these very gay characters so much that I had to write about them!

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Hints of mental instability, losing memories because of dementors, definite angst, mentions of Lily and James’ death, brief mentions of sex, swearing, Sirius’ hate for Peter Pettigrew, death threats towards Peter Pettigrew, and overall kind tragic because Sirius is stuck in Azkaban.  Let me know if I missed any!!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Moons

I'm not sure why I'm writing to you--we're not allowed to send or receive post from Azkaban, but you know that already. You always seem to know everything, you're smart as hell.

I'm not going to waste parchment explaining everything, I already spend too much time rehearsing what I'm going to say. Lily and James, Remus. I still can't make myself believe it, I'm not sure I want to.

I want to ask you not to forget about me, not to believe I'm a traitor. No, that's a lie. I want to ask you to wait for me. I'll come back to you one day, I promise. It’s selfish of me, to hope you won't move on. But I've always been a selfish bastard, you know that too.

I can't remember your eyes, Remus. Or your laugh. I try, every day to conjure you up from my memories, but the Dementors are slowly sucking you from my mind, one day at a time. I'm terrified of losing you--our years at Hogwarts, for good. I'm scared that one day I won't remember what you taste like, your oversized jumpers, the sounds you make when you come. I love you, Remus, and the Dementors prey on love, it's a feast to them.

But they can't take away my hate, my need for revenge. I fucking hate him, I hate him I hate himIhatehimIhate--

Pads

*

Moony

Do you remember the time we shagged on the big couch in the common room and James found out? He was so disgusted he didn't sit there till Christmas.

Do you remember the time that we all got drunk and played Seven Minutes In Heaven and I charmed the spinner so I'd get you? That was our first kiss. I remember.

Then there was that time that we slipped Snivellus a potion that turned his hair pink for a week. We thought it was the most brilliant thing we'd ever done. Did he retaliate? I'm not sure anymore.

Remember when we snuck out to Hogsmeade through the secret passage and almost ran into Professor McGonagall? Did we get caught? I don't remember.

I'm trying to remember. I have to remember

Padfoot

*

Rem

Half my bloody family is in here, you know. It makes for a wonderful reunion, lots of cursing and threats of murder-- just like old times! 

I wonder if my parents are proud of me now, after what they think I did. After what everyone thinks I did.

I'm sorry. I'm so damned sorry for all of it, for the way I must have hurt you. I wish I could actually send these letters and wish I could talk to you again. Just for a few minutes.

There are so many things I should have done differently. So many things.

Sirius

*

Remus

I wonder where you are, now? What you're doing? 

It's been five years now, for all I know you could be dead or married or finally realized you're better off without me. I wouldn't blame you for the last one. 

That thought haunts me every day, that I'll get out of here and I'll find you and you'll say that you've moved on and none of it matters now.

Cause I will find you. I'm getting out of here, one day.

Sirius

*

This will be my last letter, I'm almost out of parchment and there's no way in hell they'll bring me more. Maybe I'll write on the walls to keep myself from going mad. 

I'm so sorry for everything that I did. For everything that I failed to do. I never told you enough how much I loved you and now it's too late.

I'm going to get out of here, I promise. I have to. 

I'm going to kill him, fucking rip him apart with my bare hands, damn my wand. 

And then I'm going to find you. And everything is going to be alright because then I'll be in your arms.