#sorry if i got a little snappish in the answers

[on-wine-dark-seas]

/on-wine-dark-seas/774411642688700416/fanfiction-writer-asks

1-50! Palate cleanser continues! Hope you're having an awesome day, Muse!

Mer, thank you for the homework! I'm having an absolute normal one. 🥲

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fanfiction?

I was 8. I started of drawing and writing comics for Marvel stuff [I was big into the Silver Surfer], then moved onto Sailor Moon. I even wrote fanfic and drew comics for The Fifth Element.

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favorite if you write for more than one?

Right now, I'm only writing for Jujutsu Kaisen, but I can already feel my interest in it waning [the fandom has not exactly been kind and welcoming as I expected]. I've been yapping with @sandwitchstories about writing for KNY since that's her wheelhouse. Picking her brain on how best to seduce and love Sanemi hehehe.

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.

I only write OC x Canon. Reader-insert is just Diet OC to me so there's no point when I can just go all-in and make an OC, fandom be damned. The Invitation will be my first time writing a true self-insert.

4) What is your favorite genre to write for?

Fantasy and Sci-fi of course.

5) If you had to choose a favorite out of all of your multi-chaptered stories, which would it be and why?

Despite my never intending to create content for Dragon Age ever again, Maledictus will always withstand the test of time as one of my greatest fanfic achievements. The headspace I was in writing that story was not great, but the love and intention I poured into it was...profound.

6) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why?

I've already been doing that. Mostly because I am making an effort to be intentional with what I publish.

7) When is your preferred time to write?

Late at night because it's the only time I can be guaranteed no interruptions of any kind.

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?

Music, movies, books, TV. The usual. Life experiences inform my narrative choices too.

9) In your xxx fic, what’s your favourite scene that you wrote?

Assume you wanna know about The Invitation.

My favorite scene has a rough draft and it's the first time Sukuna and I get intimate. Not fucking, per se, but the first time I actually let him touch me intimately. The song I wrote it to is so sexy too, can't wait to drop the playlist.

10) In your xxx fic, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternative ending in mind?

Uh...Daughter of Disgrace? Well, I didn't intend to end it like that, but it was the most logical outcome for all the ideas I had to dovetail together.

11) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?

No. Fuck them people.

12) Who is your favorite character to write for? Why?

Nadja. Like slipping into my favorite hoodie. Love me a bad bitch antihero.

13) Who is your least favorite character to write for? Why?

Gojo. His sense of humor is so cringe lol.

15) If you write OC’s, how do you decide on their names?

How it feels on the tongue, how I want them to act, the characteristics I want them to embody.

16) How did you come up with the idea for xxx?

The Invitation was born from me brainstorming while I was on stage for a performance for a...very important dignitary at an event. And then I was like "what if this...but with Sukuna" and the rest is history.

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.

There’s the sound of bells tinkling as Šetû shifts in her seat. “We should play Hankali,” she says with a grin. Amadou and Yusuf look momentarily startled, but Ajani and Ajamu seize on that opportunity. “Great idea!” Ajani says, getting up. “I’ll grab my tama, eh?” Šetû claps her hands together excitedly, kicking her feet and making the ankle bells jingle prettily. Sukuna watches her with an amusement one would expect from a normally impassive deity. “What is this…” he thinks for a moment, then says the word slowly. “Hankari?” “Hankali,” Šetû corrects with a grin. “It’s a children’s game we usually play after a good night. A test of rhythm, memory, and word association.” Sukuna snorts. “And how is it played?”

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

I abandoned and deleted Highball. I lost interest in continuing it and the two chapters I did post didn't seem to be getting any kind of feedback. Literally crickets. So I took it down. I'm not going to waste my time posting longfic if no one is responding it. Keeping that shit tucked in the drafts along with so many other abandoned works.

19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

Already doing The Godsoul Project which is the sequel to Daughter of Disgrace but I don't even think I want to write that anymore either if we're being honest.

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?

I honestly wish I never fucking wrote most of the fics I've posted sometimes.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

I admire a lot of writers. Their ability to tell tight and complete stories and draw such devoted readers is something I wish I could do. I try my best, I suppose.

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?

No. I just delete it and it's like it never happened at all! :D

23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence?

I do listen to music when I write now, I used to not be able to do that but now I need something to keep my brain focused. Music helps.

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes?

I wish that's all I could write but I need to build a whole story for why they're fucking because whatever.

25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?

Yeah. Either because it made me sad or because I was frustrated.

27) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow?

Outline. Always outline. Otherwise I won't be able to get anywhere.

28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction?

How much people hate Black female characters being centered in stories. And how much fandom hates Black people in general. I never would have posted fic ever if I knew just how deep it goes. And I can see why a lot of Black people in fandom don't post at all.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

Literally all of my fanfics. Like three people are reading and engaging with my writing but I have thousands of followers. So what the fuck are the rest of you doing on this specific blog, exactly? Sorry, today is not a good day for me and I'm frustrated.

30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

No because I don't get any real feedback on anything I write. I posted some short and sweet Sukuna smut and folks are acting like???? I don't know man. Fandom is a fickle place.

31) Send me a fic recommendation and I’ll post it for my followers to see! (The asker is to send the rec not the answerer)

Check my #fic+rec tag.

32) Are any of your characters based on real people?

Yeah, my selfship.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

@amacabrefairytale compliments Nadja and Sundari and Sukuna's dynamic all the time on AO3 and I really appreciate them for seeing and recognizing my efforts to write something beautiful.

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

Most of the criticism I get is racist as fuck so...

35) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest?

No one fucking cares except like three people so they get to hear me ramble for hours about these ideas.

36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s?

No.

37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written?

I am bad at humor but Pasagewa was a funny one. Hadiza [my DA Inquisitor] pegged her husband for the first time but it was her cousin [a mutual's own Inquisitor that we had in a shared crack universe] who designed the strap she used. LOL

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it.

@sandwitchstories because she and I are usually on the same brainwave. Also she's one of the only people who have been truly receptive to friendship and collaboration so it's been so fun yapping with her.

39) Do you prefer first, second or third person?

Third person limited or first person. I have written (1) reader fic just to see if I could. It wasn't great, but folks liked it so whatever.

40) Do people know you write fanfiction?

Yeah, but I'm skittish about linking people to it because I don't know what they're into or if they're even the same fandom as me.

41) What’s you favorite minor character you’ve written?

Khadija. She's such a sweetheart. Just an old auntie protecting her neighborhood from curses...and dating Yaga.

43) Has anyone ever guessed the plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it?

No because no one is that invested in my stories to begin with. It's just me and void out here.

44) What is the last line you wrote?

“What do you think we should expect at the shrine?” Šetu murmurs from her pallet. Amadou snorts. “More of the same: servants, a few priests and priestesses, and Sukuna himself, I’d imagine. Likely he’ll only want us there for the night, so it should be safe.”

45) What spurs you on during the writing process?

I want to read something that makes me happy.

48) What’s your favorite trope to write?

Two people who don't think they can ever be loved for whatever reason end up falling in love.

49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?

It was a Ronin Warriors fanfic called The New Generation by She-Ronin. Sticks with me till this day. I wonder if she's still writing.

50) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Angst and smut is my wheelhouse.

[incaensio]

katniss offers a nod, unsure of what to say. her experiences with mothers from town are far and between, and often awful, like with madge's dead mother or peeta's witch of a mother. her eyes does widen a little at the mention that mrs. cartwright talks well of her — what's up with these townies and being a cunt in her face and then praising her to her kids like she's some sort of example? "i ain't sure 'bout me but she did seem to like peeta." but then, who doesn't? katniss presses her lips together. yes, delly was talking a whole bunch, but it seems she does that a lot; katniss has the experience tuning herself out if necessary, so she offers a small shrug. "yeah, i think that's the difference. they've got heart. and ain't super pinchy." capitol shoes aren't made for stalking prey in the woods, after all, just for you to look pretty while wearing them.

she hums, lost in her own diffidence. so she is a bit surprised when an apology comes, seemingly from nowhere, and it shows on the way her face furrows; katniss also feels it growing hot at the realization delly was trying to comfort her for something that, indeed, she had nothing to do. and that she was so quick for apologies, when it's not even her place to do that. "the games changes things." it had changed her, and her relationship with everyone. people in town, people in the hob, gale. maybe she is wrong for not trying to involve herself in peeta's life more — though she sees it as kindness, when she thinks of that at all, not to impose anymore than she already has — but she can only wonder what has changed. "i'm glad you ain't thinkin' i got peeta under lock and key. he can go if he wants to. he goes to yours when'ver he wants." i don't want to change him, she means. keep him from anything that makes him happy, when i can not. "'s fine. ain't no need for sayin' sorry." she decides, a soft shake of the head to assure delly of that — truth is, she wasn't sure how to apologize to delly either, for being so snappish. people who know her know this, but delly doesn't.

"gale." she answers at once, but doesn't want to linger on him, much less with delly. "yes, they think twelve is some exotic little gray in the middle of nowhere or some shit." which, well, wasn't entirely untrue, but katniss would rather swallow nightlock than to agree with a capitolite's opinions about her home, and she scowls now, even at the thought of it. mostly, truly, katniss didn't mind the calm from twelve — if she was able to go beyond the fence again, make herself useful somehow, she'd feel much better. she finishes off a skewer and takes another, trying to keep her mind from what could possibly be happening in twelve. "there is fish, just not crab or shrimp. but it's sweetwater fish, it tastes a little different." she likes it better, if only because it's what she had grown up eating, grilling it with katniss roots or throwing it into a stew by her father's river's edge. "the sea at four is pretty. annie cresta said their peacekeepers can't really keep them locked in. no fences at open sea." can you imagine? she wants to ask, but she's not there yet with this girl. they don't know each other. she's just a town girl whose entertainment comes from town parties, not sneaking out of the district and climb trees and swim around in rivers. "it's a pineapple. we don't have 'em, it's too cold for growin'. keep testin'." she points to the several other options of food on the table. more eating, less talking, she wants to say, but stops herself just before the discourtesy comes out.

Delly was not just surprised by the revelation that her mother had been talking her up to Katniss but that her mother had never mentioned that Katniss came into their shop. Ever since Katniss and Peeta's win her mother had spoken very highly of the District Twelve victors. Delly sometimes wondered if her mother wished that she had a daughter like Katniss instead of a daughter that she had. "Huh. I believe you, it's just a surprise. My mom isn't super...complimentary, you know? I don't think she means it to be mean or something, she just has really high expectations," Delly explained. "She always speaks highly of you, I was just surprised she didn't mention that you came in. She's very proud of you and Peeta." She paused. "I'm talking too much, aren't I?" Delly realized she was probably oversharing and Katniss probably didn't care about her family dynamics. "I will have to tell her you said that. We work really hard on our shoes, I think that's what makes them different. Everyone is handmade instead of made in a factory."

"Yeah? I think so? I mean most of us are probably related in some way at this point, so it's not really a big deal, it's just kind of a running thing between them?" Delly shrugged. She had never thought about why the kids from the Seam didn't mingle with them, or why they didn't mingle with the kids from the Seam. The kids in the Seam were struggling with hunger while the kids in the Merchant part of town were bored and looking for something to do on Friday nights. It was reassuring to hear Katniss say that she only knew her to be Peeta's real friend, but that revelation didn't make her smile either. Delly knew that their friendships had shifted since the Reaping, but she had been in denial about just how much things had changed. Last year she had thought that they were all best friends and they would be that way forever. That nothing would change that. But now, a year later she knew the truth. They could drift apart far easier than she had ever imagined. "I'm sorry for saying those things, Katniss. It's me...not you. You're right that mine and Peeta's group of friends...it's changed and I guess I'm having a hard time accepting it. That's not your fault and I don't blame you for not trying to be friends with them."

"Oh yeah?" She asked curiously. "Who?" Delly didn't fully realize that the things that she was saying could get her in trouble if she were talking to someone else. She had never felt this way before, but maybe because she had ignored what was in front of her the entire time back in Twelve. It was only coming face to face with the true luxury of the Capitol to realize that the way that they lived back in Twelve was wrong. If you lived like this would you want to change? "No," she admitted. "I guess you have a point. Who would want to trade any of this in for a life back in Twelve? I'm sure they would be so bored if they came to see us there," she mused. There was really nothing to do there, which was probably why she spent most of her Fridays at Ash's house having parties to try to pass the time.

Even though Peeta had told her everything he could about what was happening, she didn't fully understand it because she hadn't experienced it. She felt like she was finally kind of understanding it, seeing it here in the Capitol. It was just hard for her to wrap her mind around, but now that she was seeing it, and seeing the way that they treated Peeta, it was odd to her. She took the shrimp skewer from Katniss and tried it. "This is one of the best things that I've ever tasted," Delly laughed. "I guess it would be hard to get fish like this in Twelve, I think we're pretty far from the oceans and Four." Delly had never paid much attention to the maps of Panem in school, had never felt a need to. She glanced at the pineapple. "I have never had that before." She tried it. "It's...different than the fruit we have."

[amazingmsme]

Nandor and Guillermo holding hands 🥺

Thank you for this, I’ve been dying to write something for wwdits! Nandor is v soft for Guillermo but he tries to hide it. Slight spoilers for season 3.

Guillermo couldn’t believe this. After everything he’s done for them! After all the slaying to save their lives, they stick him in a fucking cage like some animal that needs to be feared. On one hand, he could understand it, but on the other, he knew they were dillusional jerks. There was no way he’d ever consider hurting them, but he was seriously considering swapping out some of their jewelry for real silver.

Sure the situation wasn’t so bad. At least he could leave to go get some actual food, and now he had all the time in the world to binge his shows. He was laying on his bed in the middle of an episode of Gilmore Girls when he got a visitor.

“Hello Guillermo. I just wanted to check up on you and see how you are doing,” Nandor said, announcing his presence. Guillermo didn’t look at him, only taking one earbud out.

“Oh hey Master. I’m fine.”

Nandor stood there, looking slightly lost. He walked over to the cage, resting his chin on one of the bars as he looked down at his familiar.

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm. Just peachy,” he answered, tone a little tense.

“… Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m watching Gilmore Girls. Do you want something, or did you just come down here to stare at me?” he asked, his frustration slipping through.

“Progress is slowly being made in deciding your fate. I think I’m starting to convince them not to kill you,” he said, offering a small smile.

“Yippee,” he said in a monotone, raising one hand weakly in the air.

“Guillermo are you mad at me? You know it wasn’t my idea to imprison you.”

“No, whatever made you think that Master?” he asked, sarcasm clear in his voice.

Nandor stuck his arm in the cage. “I’m sorry about all of this. Give me your hand.” Guillermo paused the episode, looking at him skeptically.

“Why?”

“Because I’m sorry about all of this. And I really think you could use a-“ he paused, visibly struggling to say the next word. “Ffffriend right now.”

Guillermo couldn’t help the small smirk that graced his lips as he placed his hand in Nandor’s. “Wow, that was really hard for you to say,” he teased. Nandor nodded, not meeting his eyes.

“Look Guillermo, I miss having you around, and not only for chores. I promise that things will work out. Do you believe me?”

Guillermo let out a heavy sigh. “Well it wouldn’t be the first promise that never came through.” Nandor gave his hand a slight squeeze.

“Hey none of that. I’m serious, I’m going to fix this.”

“… Okay.” He sounded tired and dejected. Nandor gave a small pout.

“I haven’t seen you smile at all since we stuck you in here.” Guillermo scoffed.

“Well gee, I wonder why.”

“You know it wouldn’t kill you to smile every once in a while. Just go “hi Nandor, it’s great to see you,” or “hello Nadja, you look lovely this evening.” It might help your case.” Guillermo looked at him with an unamused expression.

“Why, so she can just hiss at me and throw more raw chicken at my face?” he sassed.

“Hey I thought you loved your chicken! You always eat it all by the time we give you more.” Guillermo shot an annoyed look towards the cameraman outside the cage. Nandor reached in with his other hand and turned his head to look at him.

“Hey, I’m really trying here. And I just wish I knew how to make you happy.” Nandor dropped his gaze to the ground, tracing light shapes on Guillermo’s wrist. His lips twitched up as he gently tugged on his arm. Nandor’s grip tightened so that he couldn’t escape the touch. His brows were furrowed and he had an adorable pout.

“Heey, I am trying to be nice here!” he scolded.

“S-sorry master,” he stuttered, watching as Nandor’s larger hands wrapped around his own.

“Some of my wives would do this when I was upset to try and calm me down. It never worked, but I would pretend it did,” he admitted. Guillermo let out an amused snort.

“Of course you did master.” He wore a small smile that wasn’t quite genuine.

“Mhm. So could you at least pretend like I did?” he asked, a little snappish. Guillermo rolled his eyes. He then flashed a clearly fake smile, all teeth and dimples.

“Okay that was a bit much,” Nandor deadpanned.

“Hey, you said to pretend,” he teased.

“Yes, but you ruined the mood!” he said, throwing a hand up in the air. Guillermo arched a brow.

“There was a mood?” Nandor sighed, running a hand down his face.

“Yes, there was, but you ruined it now!” he whined, crossing his arms and pouting. Guillermo had to fight off an amused smirk.

“I’m sorry master. Here, try again,” he offered his hand through the bars of the cage. Nandor took his hand once more, tracing spirals and shapes from his wrist to the palm of his hand. Guillermo tried to stay still, he really did, but his palms were incredibly sensitive and Nandor’s tracing was driving him mad. Giggles bubbled up his throat and his fingers tried to curl in a fist as he tried to twist his hand away.

Nandor smirked, scratching at the center of his palm. Guillermo shrieked and fell into a giggling fit, nose scrunched adorably. “Nahahandohor don’t!”

“You never told me your hands were ticklish! That’s so funny,” the vampire teased. He blushed and hid his face in his other hand.

“You nehehehever ahahasked!” he shrieked.

“Well I’m certainly going to do this more often now that I know,” Nandor declared as Guillermo descended into bubbly laughter. And he really didn’t mind.

[littlethie]

In Safe Hands - Draco Malfoy x reader

You and Draco are in a relationship. The two of you have a fight but still go to a party. Draco is still angry and reserved until someone drugs you and you seek out his help.

A/N: this was FUN! Thank you for a lovely request  ❤︎

Warnings: Angst, fluff, alcohol, drugs, swearing, puking, mentions of death/killing, fainting - this sounds like a horror movie, I swear it isn’t 

Requested: Yes / No ; By: starcross16

Words: 1,9k 

picture’s not mine

“Fine, then I´m not going!” you screamed at your boyfriend and dramatically sat down on the sofa, your voice echoing through the manor. The two of you had been fighting this whole day. You couldn´t even remember why, anymore.

It had started in the morning. You both had woken up a little annoyed, snapping at each other every now and then. You were visiting him at the Manor since his parents were away on a fancy Malfoy-style vacation. Everything had made you irritated and you hadn´t even been able to make breakfast in peace. Draco had been answering you unpleasantly and acting as if you were an obstacle in his way. This hurt your feelings, since you had been invited by him.

You didn´t fight much in the relationship. But today was different. You both could have dealt with the irritation. But when Blaise Zabini had invited you to join him and the others at a party happening at his place, Draco had said something about you not being able to handle liquor and something about you embarrassing him.

So you had been screaming and fighting. You had done your makeup and hair. You both wanted to go, perhaps, let off some steam. It was kind of funny, how you had fought but still got ready. You didn´t think you had a problem with liquor, and honestly, you both knew, somewhere deep under your layers of egos, that this whole situation was just an unfortunate outcome of bad sleep or a bad day. But you were also stubborn. And resigning was just too anticlimactic for the both of you.

“Don´t be such a fucking child, Y/N,” he scoffed at you, evidently now more irritated. “Perfect, now I´m a child. If you don´t want me to go, then just tell me. I may just fucking stay at the Manor and bore myself to death,” you rolled your eyes and put one leg over the other, while your head fell behind, leaning against the backrest.

He was fuming. You knew you both had to go. Everyone knew you were visiting him. “Don´t make me angrier. Get up.”

Oh, how you didn´t want to. Again, standing up would scrape your ego. But you did it anyway. Draco huffed and walked to the door with your unbothered body behind him. He grabbed you by your arm but didn´t look at you. Firmly and a tiny bit painfully. His brows were furrowed and mouth upside down in a scowl. He could never hide his discomfort.

You apparated in front of Zabini´s huge Manor. All you knew was that his mother was also somewhere on a vacation. You were a expecting a peaceful evening, maybe some other classmates. But when you arrived you could hear loud music coming from the inside. Draco let go of your arm and made his way inside. There was one thing you couldn´t deny, though. He looked extremely attractive in his tux.

You followed your snappish boyfriend inside and got immediately greeted by already drunk Blaise, Theo, Pansy, the smell of alcohol, bodies and perfumes. “Heeeeeey, the favourite couple has arriiiived!” he slurred.

“Merlin, Blaise, how many people do you have here?” Draco asked, totally perplexed, looking at the mass of people dancing and drinking. “I have no idea, man. Some people have invited people and they have invited more people,” he laughed and this was the first time Draco gifted you a look. A confused one. But he did. Others quickly rushed you into this huge saloon.

“Come on Y/N!” Pansy had a strong hold on your wrist while dragging you to the bar. “What are you drinking?!” she screamed through the music. You looked over at Draco, who was not far behind with Theo. “What are you drinking?” you asked him, the annoyance leaving your mind. “Don´t care about me,” he growled and your heart sunk. “I just asked…,” you explained but his face stayed stern. He walked through you, leaning slightly over the counter asking for a firewhisky. He usually asked for your drink too but tonight… not a chance. “Oh, trouble in paradise?” Theo smirked and Pansy hit his arm. “Stop being an asshole and leave… and take your drama queen with you,” she pointed at Draco with her head.

Theo squinted and mimicked her, but Draco swiftly turned him around by his shoulder. “You alright Y/N? What happened with you two?” she snooped a little and you just shook your head.  “It´s nothing. We had a bad day full of fighting. We both got up on the wrong side of the bed,” you sighed. “Oh, I´m sorry. A little drink and dancing will always help! We can start lightly. Hey!” she turned around to face the bartender. “Two gin-tonics please!” she yelled at him. The bartender looked at her then you. He blinked at you. You were petrified. “Did you see that?!” you came closer to Pansy. “Yea, I heard he´s a prick, don´t mind him,” you obeyed but this feeling in your gut just wouldn´t go away.

You looked behind you to see where your boyfriend had gone, and you spotted him sitting in a booth with the boys and some other classmates. You turned back the moment you heard the bartender. “This one´s for you…” he handed one drink to Pansy, “and this one is for this beauty I hope I can see later,” he handed you the other drink. “I´m sorry, I´m here with my boyfriend,” you gave him an uncertain smile. He raised his eyebrows and looked at you strangely. What the heck? “I said, don´t mind him! Let´s dance!” Pansy grabbed you again and dragged you right into the middle of the dancefloor.

You took a sip from your gin-tonic and let yourself go. You noticed Draco walking behind you towards the bar, probably for another firewhisky. “Hey…” you grabbed his arm lightly. He shot you an angry glance and wriggled out of your hold. “Can´t you leave me be for just a few fucking hours? This doesn´t help me calm down.” You were looking at him totally blown away. He continued in his way and you were now looking at Pansy, who was about to rip him to shreds. You stopped her. “Just leave it. Let´s dance!” you were trying your best not to cry. So you finished your drink as quickly as possible.

After a while your body started feeling weird. And so did your mind. It was only one gin-tonic. You said to yourself. Out of the blue, you could see not one, but two, three, four Pansies. You stumbled a little and Pansy quickly got a hold of you. “You didn´t eat anything before this, did you,” she laughed. You couldn´t answer. Your eyes were circling around the place. The lights were too light, music too loud and people too many. You wanted to tell her something was wrong, but your mouth felt like powder sugar and you put your fingers up to your face to feel it. She was dancing like crazy, turning away from you to dance with this cute tall boy.

Your steps seemed heavy as rocks. You felt like puking. Every time you made a step forward it was like your direction changed or the room turned around. Your sight was blurry and music made you flinch. It was even worse when different bodies hit you while dancing or walking. You tried to steady your mind, focusing on the platinum mop of hair. You were well aware of your situation and what was happing.

You thought it had been at least an hour. It had actually been five minutes. Your eyes landed on his tall body. He was standing, his back facing you. His hands were on the table supporting him. You were getting closer.

“Draco…,” you breathed out as soon as you reached him. He turned around with an extremely annoyed face. “Fuck, you´re already drunk?” he frowned, “you only had one drink, Y/N, this is what I was bloody talking about,” his friends were looking at you with raised eyebrows but you couldn´t care less. You felt the panic attack washing all over your body.

“I can´t. I... Draco, there´s something wrong with me,” that was all you had managed to let out before collapsing, Draco catching you just in time. His annoyed face turned into a worried one. “Y/N?! Hey! Baby! Come on!” he shook you gently, but your eyes kept going backwards. You had fainted. The boys didn´t wait a second and helped Draco take you out for some fresh air.

You had woken up by then and you steadied yourself, holding onto Draco and Blaise. They helped you sit down on a bench outside of his manor. You knew you had to get it out of your system. You put two fingers deep down into your throat and puked. Theo was quick to bring you some water. Boys let the two of you alone. You were sitting on the bench for a solid hour. Draco didn´t mind though. It helped him calm down, to gather his thoughts and to realize what an actual ass he had been this whole time.

Draco pulled you into him, kissing the top of your head. You closed your eyes, feeling a little better now. “What the fuck happened, Y/N?” he murmured into your hair, slowly rocking the both of you back and forth. “I think the bartender drugged me. I am not sure, though,” you answered him honestly, taking in his sweet and masculine scent. And just as you said that, Blaise stormed out.

“Guess what. The bloody bartender has been selling drugs in my own fucking manor. He shat his pants when he saw Y/N, so he confessed. The boys are taking care of him now.” He said and squeezed your shoulder softly as he left to deal with the sucker. You could see Draco´s urge to go and hex the guy, but you held him close to your body. This was more important and he knew it. “I´m so sorry, Y/N. If it weren´t for my stupid stubbornness, this wouldn´t have happened,” Draco cupped your face and placed a warm kiss on your lips. “I´m going to hurt him anyway, though. Who does he think he is?!” he growled and you placed your palm on his fiery cheek. “Hey, just let it be. Let the boys deal with him. Don´t get your hands dirty,” you smiled and shifted closer to him. “I want to kill him. This is all my fault,” he pressed a kiss onto your forehead.

“It´s not your fault, Draco. We are both stubborn. I was acting like a child today and I want to apologize. I am a little emotional at times and you are really the only one who can handle me,” your noses were touching, foreheads pressed against one another. He moved his nose gently along yours and kissed the tip. “I love you, Y/N. I promise I´ll take care of you. I promise I´ll keep you safe. I don´t know what I´d do if you were…,” he gulped, “you know, if you ended up in a worse condition, just because I am too proud to let things go.”

“Stop, Draco. I am here. Thanks to you. You know that I love you too.”

“I think it´s time to head back home. There´s no other place I´d rather see you than in my bed with my clothes on. What do you think?” he smiled beautifully.

“Let´s go,” you whispered and kissed him once more.

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Alex + Julie "You didn't deserve that... You deserve so much better."

you sent me this prompt a million years ago i'm sorry it took me so long to answer it. warning for friendship breakup angst. there's no carrie redemption arc in this fic but there IS alexjulie friendship.

with love on their throats | g | 1.7k | alex&julie, past julie&carrie

ao3 link in reblogs!

--

Julie doesn’t mean to ignore the boys all afternoon, but Carrie’s birthday was hard last year and so far, this year doesn’t seem to be getting any easier.

She has the foresight to turn her phone off, at least, this year. She can’t handle the social media posts from everyone else at their school. They’re probably in Carrie’s pool, in her kitchen, in her living room. Probably throwing around the throw cushions that Julie’s mom taught her and Carrie to sew covers for when they were ten. Maybe even smashing the glasses Julie used to drink Trevor’s homemade iced tea out of when she would come to visit before Carrie got home from sport in the evenings. The idea of seeing these familiar spaces still just… out there, existing, rather than stuck in the past along with her and Carrie’s friendship, makes Julie nauseous.

Plus, there’s the added bonus of not being able to text Carrie something reckless she might regret.

So her phone’s switched off. Her dad knows not to bother her today anyway, since he had a front-row seat to whole Carrie mess when it happened. He just shot her a sympathetic glance over breakfast and hasn’t spoken to her at all. Carlos is at a friend’s house, and wouldn’t bother her even if he were home.

It’s just the ghosts Julie is avoiding, locked her bedroom door, perched on her window seat with her headphones on, watching YouTube on her laptop.

Which means it scares her half to death when Alex waves a hand in front of her face.

She yanks her headphones off and curses, sharp and a little louder than she means to, and Alex jumps back like he’s been burned. “Julie! Uh, hi, hey. Sorry to scare you.”

“Why didn’t you knock?!” she demands, still breathless. “It’s you, you know better! Boundaries!”

At least Alex has the decency to look shamefaced. “I know, listen, it’s just -- we were worried about you! And we did knock, a lot, actually, but I don’t think you could hear us? So I said we should give you space but Luke and Reg started psyching each other out, and Luke’s never been able to handle space the same way since the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident--”

Which, okay, yeah, that’s fair enough. Julie still shudders at the memory of the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident.

“-- so then I got nominated because, well, Reg worried you might be getting changed or something, and that makes me the obvious choice, not that I wanted to be the obvious choice, just that -- okay, I’m doing a bad job, what I mean is --”

Finally, she decides to put him out of his misery. “Alex, stop. It’s fine.”

Relieved, he lets out a breath and leans on his knees, looking up at her with pretty, apologetic eyes. “Still. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to frighten you, we just… got worried. And wanted to see if you were okay. You’ve been in here all day.”

Julie nods and looks back at her laptop, where the YouTube video is still playing, and pauses it.

She hasn't looked back over at Alex when he says, cautious, "Are you okay?"

When she replies, “Yeah,” it isn’t because she wants to lie to him, necessarily. It’s more because she doesn’t know how to untangle her feelings enough to lay them out in front of him. More because it’s hard to explain why she still misses someone who she knows hurt her, who she knows should have known better.

It’s hard to explain why she feels guilt, and grief, over something she chose to let go.

The window seat dips when he sits down next to her, fingers twisted together in his lap, shoulders rolled forward. He’s offering her the tiniest, encouraging smile in the form of a little quirk at the corner of his mouth. Julie loves him so much that it softens the heartache, just for a moment.

But then it returns. Just as strong. Just as unreasonable. Just as painful.

“It’s Carrie’s birthday,” she tells him, without even knowing why she says it.

“Oh,” he replies, which seems fair. She doesn’t know what she’d say in his position. He chews his lip, a crease forming in his brow. “You guys used to be friends, right?”

God, can she talk about this out loud? It’s easier to joke with Flynn, to make fun of the situation, because Flynn saw it all play out, held Julie when she cried, stopped being friends with Carrie in solidarity. Explaining the situation from start to finish, to someone new, just feels impossible.

So instead she says, “Do you ever miss someone you know you can’t have back? Or not that you can’t. But you know you shouldn’t. You know that you can’t get them back, or you’d have to give up too much for it and it wouldn’t be worth it.”

Because sure, if Julie was really committed, she’s sure she could grovel her way back into Carrie’s inner circle. But as much as she misses her, she’s not prepared to do it.

Alex nods, understanding. “Yeah,” he says plainly. “Yeah, I do. Tons of people.”

Julie’s surprised, but she supposes she shouldn’t be. The boys talk about Alex’s family the way Julie’s mom used to talk about ghosts -- never directly, otherwise they’d hear her and be summoned -- and after the whole thing with Trevor, well. It makes sense.

“Can I get it to stop?” Julie asks. “I had to turn off my phone before I did something stupid like text her. What would I even say? Why would I want to say anything?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. He leans over so their shoulders bump together, and she leans her head on him. “It’s okay to miss her, you know. You guys had good things in your friendship -- I mean, I guess, right? That’s why you miss it?”

Julie nods, closing her eyes. There are so many good memories she doesn’t even know where to start. Running in the park. Sitting at the piano together. Fashion shows for their dads and Julie’s mom in the living room of the Wilsons’ huge house. Sleepovers with Flynn full of bickering and giggling and pillow fights. Birthday parties, their whole lives.

“But that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a good reason for stepping away,” Alex says.

That’s true, too. Julie’s pretty sure they didn’t have that good stuff for a while before their friendship ended, in reality. Carrie was becoming�� snappish. Self-absorbed. All she wanted to do was boss the other girls in dance class around, and she didn’t ask to hear Julie’s songs anymore. Julie knew that being a good friend meant weathering the good with the bad, but she gave Carrie what felt like a million chances, and she wasn’t getting anything back. When she’d tried to bring it up to Carrie, things had… exploded.

She explains as much to Alex, in fits and spurts, and finishes with, “She just… blew up at me, she told me she’d been sick of me for ages and asked why I hadn’t noticed. Like I was just supposed to realise that we weren’t friends anymore without her telling me.” Sucking in a shaky breath, she manages, “And then my mom…”

“Oh, Julie,” Alex murmurs softly into her hair. She’s trying not to cry, she really is, but it feels all bubbly at the surface of her chest, and the way he puts an arm around her and squeezes tight shows that he can tell.

“I know it’s silly,” she chokes, “but it feels like we broke up, or something, even though we were just friends. It hurts so much just thinking about her.”

“It’s not silly,” he assures her, and wraps his other arm around her, too, so he’s hugging her close to him with her head against his chest. “There’s nothing less important about friends, and a friendship ending can really suck. Especially how she did it.” He presses a kiss to her forehead, and doesn’t draw attention to the few tears making their way down her cheeks. They sit like that for a moment, then Alex says quietly, “You’re a wonderful friend. You didn’t deserve that. You deserve so much better.”

Sniffling, Julie rubs her sleeve across her eyes, wiping away the tears. The thought dawns on her like the sunrise after a long, sleepless night. “I have so much better,” she realises out loud. “I have Flynn. And Dad and Carlos. And you and Luke and Reggie.”

“We are pretty fantastic,” Alex agrees, faux-smug, but his eyes are still cautious, and affectionate. “But it’s okay to be upset anyway.”

“I know,” she says. And she does. “But I think I’m almost done being upset. For now, at least. Maybe we could run through a few songs?”

“I’m sure the boys would love that,” Alex tells her, smiling, and he goes to stand up but she holds on tighter, so he won’t leave the hug.

He just feels so steady, and comforting, and she’ll never really get over being able to actually hold them. “Can we just. Stay here for a moment, first?”

Easing himself back down, Alex grins and pulls her closer, tucking her head under his chin. “Of course,” Alex says. “We can take as long as you need. Just us, or the others, too?”

She pauses. “The others, too.”

Alex closes his eyes, and Julie knows he’s reaching out to the others, through their one leftover remnant of their time in the afterlife, tugging at their leads until they come to find him. A moment later, Reggie and Luke both pop into presence in the middle of her room, puppy-eyed with worry and hope.

“Julie?” asks Reggie quietly, fiddling with his fingers.

“You good?” Luke asks, on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah,” she tells them. “Just needed a hug.”

Within moments, they’re all around her and Alex, Reggie’s arm around her waist, Luke’s leg somehow, inexplicably, over her lap. Alex makes an insulted noise, but he’s so relaxed, Julie knows he must not mean it. When she presses her ear to his collarbone, Julie can hear his heartbeat, solid and alive, miraculous. Her friend’s heartbeat. Her friends, all around her.

Things are still bittersweet, and it’s still Carrie’s birthday, but Julie is still surrounded by love, enveloped in it, living in it. She can be sad for what’s gone, and be grateful for what she has, at the same time.

[ererokii]

This is my first request so I hope I do it right. I was wondering if you could do something with Todoroki and/or Tamaki with Y/N always pinning after them but after awhile they give up and the boy(s) notice and don’t like the absence of them. Like, you decide if they always liked them and they just didn’t know how to act around them or they realized they liked them now that their gone. @corallilac0101102 

I tried a different format this time! And I like it so i might be using this one a lot more often. Sorry for the wait lovely! I hope you like it! unedited, sorry if its not the best

He’s too shy to even notice the attempts you made to know him better.

He can barely talk to you without having to meet the wall for the fifth time that day. 

When you pair up with him for a group project, you are so happy. Words couldn’t express the emotions you were feeling. You gained a crush on the indigo haired boy in your second year but whenever you talked to him, he would flee.

But in your third year, you weren’t having it. And with this project, it ensured that you can actually talk to him. 

You knew he was quiet, but you expected him to make an effort for small talk. By all means you would have never spoken to him if he was going to be like this. 

After a while of him shunning you by turning his back to you to pretend to do something else, was starting to get to you. You couldn’t even get a small hello from him. If you were being honest, he was hurting your feelings with no ill intention. He never showed any emotion to you once so ever.

Were you that horrible? Were you annoying?

Did he not like you? 

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾ 

Tamaki expected you to talk to him once again. He loved listening to your voice. He thinks it’s soothing and can calm his nerves. The only problem for him; he can’t talk back to you without getting nervous. He enjoys seeing how animated your hands are when you speak about something you’re passionate about. But because of how happy you are when talking to him, he can’t return the same energy back until the feeling of nausea ever goes away. 

His eyes trail on your sluggish figure as you walk to your seat beside him. He stayed silent as normal, waiting for your cheerful greeting. But nothing came. He eyed you from his peripheral vision, a sad feeling dwelling in his body at your sadden look. What happened?

“We should get started now. We’re almost done and I want to finish this,” you finally spoke up after a quiet moment, pulling things out of your backpack. An underlying of anger and sadness could be heard in your tone. A brush of your shoulder against his sent chills up his arms. He didn’t expect you to be so quiet.

The duration of class was a nightmare. He hated the awkwardness between you. Why couldn’t you just speak to him? Or at least, why couldn’t he speak to you?

Small pants left Tamaki’s mouth as he quickly followed you down the corridor. “Y-Y/N!” he watched as your body halted, looking over your shoulder. He noticed a look of hurt in your eyes. “What was that back there..?”

“What do you mean? I was just tired. Seems that you don’t like talking to me anyway.”

His heart ached as he shook his head, approaching you. “N-No course that’s not it! I love being around you! You just make me so nervous that I don’t know how to act!”

“Then why does it seem like I bother you? You always shun me away or you never acknowledge me. Don’t worry. I got your message.”

“No it’s not like that! I really like you and you make me nervous!”

Those few words were enough to make changes in your relationship. And since then, he made an effort to talk to you, even though it pained him to do so. If it meant seeing your smile again, he would do it.

Oh Todoroki notices you, he for sure does. He’s very observant. He notices the way you greet him first thing in the morning, you walk with him to lunch and you’re always walking to class with him. 

At first he wonders why you want to befriend him. I mean why? He was socially awkward and dense. Very dense. 

And Todoroki is blunt, he says it how it is.

When you ask him a bunch of questions to try to get to know him, he thinks it’s pointless. And he would rather not talk about his personal things. He thinks it’s weird to tell someone his favorite color, if he even has one.

There were points where your presence just became too much for him. He slowly gets aggravated when you continue your actions. His tone is more snappish. He’s losing his patience. But he feels terrible, because he knows you only meant well. 

But he can’t help but snap at you one day when your questions become a little too personal.

 ☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Many times his heart ached when he saw you with Kirishima or even Bakugou. He couldn’t blame anyone else besides himself. He only feels this upset when his eyes lay on his father, someone he didn’t want to affiliate himself with. But by the looks of it, both of them fail in maintaining relationships. 

He could go for someone asking him thousands of useless questions. Todoroki feels lonely as he awaits for you to come back, but you don’t. 

The son of the Pro Hero watches as you walk right past him in the hallway. A small incoherent noise leaves his mouth as he follows you from behind, reaching out for your arm, “H-Hey YL/N!” 

You just wanted him to leave you alone already. You got his message, so why was he bugging you now?

“Look, Todoroki, I know. You don’t have to tell me twice. I’m leaving you alone, for good.”

A groan is heard as he shakes his head, trying his best to plead with you. “No that’s not what I meant. I meant-”

“You didn’t mean it in a rude way. Don’t worry, it’s okay. I’m okay now. Really.”

“I’m not used to it!” he blurts out suddenly, eyes wide from his outburst, seeing your startled expression. He sighs quietly as he grabs both of your hands in his warm ones, staring into your eyes. “What I meant to say, was that I’m not used to it. At all. I never had someone try to know me. So when you asked me those questions, I got overwhelmed. It was never my intention to belittle you like that.”

You stayed silent, choosing to look for an answer in his eyes. “Are you serious?” you ask quietly, averting your gaze from him after a few seconds of intense eye contact. 

“Yes, I am.”

“..you goddamn idiot. You could have just told me from the start!!”

He defends himself once more as you laugh away, the thick air that was between you, was now gone. Honestly, if he was upfront with you, this whole ordeal wouldn’t exist.

[cricketnationrise]

bowling legends

Written for day 5 of Friendship Week! prompt: sport other than hockey / the tadpoles @birlcholtz you rock

_X_

“Alright I give up, why are we going to this sketchy strip mall?” Ford asks while Tango looks for a parking spot.

“We’re going bowling, and this is the closest place,” Whiskey answers. “We looked it up, they’re having a five dollar pitcher and three dollar wing special tonight. Plus shoe rentals are only ten per person.”

“That is surprisingly thrifty of y’all, Whiskey.”

“Well, we are also using sin bin money tonight.”

“You guys! That’s supposed to go toward the team stuff!”

“It is for the team!” Tango protests, pulling into a spot.

“Captain’s orders,” Whiskey adds.

“Captain’s orders? To take me bowling with fine money?” Ford looks doubtful.

“Well, the bowling part was us, but Dex definitely said to take you somewhere to unwind.”

“I don’t need to unwind I have a million things to get done for the spring musical and prep for playoffs and -”

“And you’ve been snappish at the whole team for the last week.”

Ford’s mouth snaps shut with an audible click of her teeth.

“...I have?”

Whiskey nods gently. “We hoped it was just an off day, but it was all week, Foxy.”

She hangs her head. “Sorry guys, I’m just stressed.”

“Hence us taking you bowling!” Tango says with a smile. “We figured it was sufficiently active slash violent to let out your stress with minimal damage to people or property. Plus lots of sitting and beer. We’ll even keep the bumpers up for maximum amusement.”

“I do like beer.”

“That’s the spirit,” Tango says. “Shall we go then?”

The trio troops inside and Tango takes a second in the lobby to just breathe in his surroundings. He loves bowling: the UV light hitting the space carpet, the clatter of pins falling, the sound of the attached arcade games, even the slightly gross smell of bowling shoes, old pizza and spilled beer, all trying to be masked by Pine-Sol. Eh, he’s smelled worse at the Haus. Somewhere in his room at home are three separate birthday party pins all signed by his friends. Bowling rocks.

They grab food and beer, rent their shoes, and settle in for a relaxing night of chucking balls at pins. Whiskey, predictably, takes bowling the most seriously, and consequently is losing by a large margin at the end of six frames. Tango knows the secret of bowling is to think about literally anything else. If you focus too hard you’ll end up overcorrecting. In the immortal words of Jack Black in School of Rock: Loosey goosey baby. Loosey. Goosey.

But Foxtrot looks remarkably relaxed. She’s in second, only a little behind Tango, but she’s got a huge grin on her face as she watches Whiskey do his super stiff robot bowling and snacks on the basket of wings.

“This was a good idea, Tango. Thank you for dragging me out tonight.”

He slings his arm around her shoulder and tugs her closer. “Literally any time Foxy. Well, not during hockey practice, or your rehearsal, or during classes, I guess. But anytime we are both free, I’ll be here with bells on.”

Ford giggles at him and goes to take her turn. She and Whiskey do their secret handshake as they pass each other. Legends Only.

“We did good,” Whiskey comments as he takes a seat and a sip of his beer.

“Literally thank god,” Tango says, “I think she was about to explode from the stress.”

“No one likes a stressed out manager, that’s for sure.”

“She’s gonna be a mess next year when we have to find her replacement before we graduate.”

Whiskey shudders. “Let’s not borrow trouble, bro.”

“Fair enough.” Tango looks around at the other people bowling at nine on a Thursday for the first time, and notices a group of women a few lanes down. They’re all wearing the same lavender bowling shirt. He squints and sees that they say ‘Samwell Bowling Babes.’ He grins, and points them out to Whiskey. Whiskey just raises his eyebrows at Tango.

“You’re not seriously trying to wheel now, are you?”

“It’s for Ford!” Tango protests.

“What’s for Ford?” she asks, coming back. “You’re up Tango.”

“I was just pointing out that group over there,” he says, pointing.

“Samwell Bowling Babes?” Ford looks doubtful.

“You should go talk to them, I’ll bet they could use someone new on their team,” says Tango.

“I don’t know, I’m so busy already…”

“Can’t hurt to try, Foxy,” Whiskey says.

“Are you guys going to let me not talk to them?” she asks.

“Probably not,” Tango admits.

“Ugh fine. Don’t bowl for me, I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

Tango goes to bowl his frame, keeping an eye on Ford as she goes up to the purple-clad women, bow bouncing.

He flings the bowling ball down the lane and watches as it bounces no less than six times on the bumpers and ends up with nine pins getting knocked down. He manages some bowling magic to get the spare and when he sits down again, Ford is coming back over.

“How the fuck do you do that,” Whiskey grumbles as he trudges up to the ball return for his next frame.

“Natural talent,” he chirps back.

“Turns out they aren’t so much a team as an informal gathering that likes to have matching shirts,” says Ford, before taking another drink of her beer. “But they said they’re super flexible on time and meet a few times a week to accommodate as many people as possible. They’re gonna send me a schedule. Also one of them gave me this for you.” She hands over a small piece of paper with a name and number written on it.

He takes it and pockets it without looking at it. Tonight’s about Denice.

“Alright Foxtrot!” Tango picks her up in a huge hug. “All grown up and getting friends that have nothing to do with hockey or theater. I’m so proud!”

“Alright, alright, put me down!” she laughs. He sets her down gently. “But yeah, yeah, you were right, bowling is great, I need stress relief, and being around people that don’t know anything about pucks or actors is probably a really good idea. Thanks Tango.”

“Got your back.”

“Oh COME ON,” Whiskey wails from in front of them. Tango and Ford look around to see Whiskey looking utterly defeated at the pins. Tango looks at the end of the lane and bursts out laughing, joined a second later by Ford. He’s somehow managed to only knock down a single pin with his first ball. And his second ball rolled into the exact same hole without hitting anything else. One point.

“Oh Whiskey,” she giggles.

“I just don’t understand,” he groans and finishes off his beer.

“I already told you to loosen up, you’re too stiff,” Tango says.

“Don’t make fun of my culture,” Whiskey sniffs, nose in the air.

“Ah yes, we shouldn’t make fun of our future robot overlords if we want to live,” Ford says, nodding.

“Good point, Ford. We tease out of affection, not malice, please don’t kill us when Skynet takes over.”

Whiskey glares at them through his fingers over his face. “You two are the worst ever.”

“Pshh, we’re the best,” says Ford.

“If you go get another round of food, and actually loosen up, Whiskey, I’ll get you whatever prize you want out of the claw machine.”

“No one is good at those,” Whiskey says grumpily.

“I am. I’m freakishly good at them,” he says proudly. “Lots of time spent on the Jersey Shore boardwalk games.”

“Fine. I want the stuffed octopus.”

“Bet. Let’s go, Whisk. Ford - hold down the lane.”

“You got it. Bring me back a giant pretzel.”

“Your wish is my command,” Tango says with a salute as he drags Whiskey toward the arcade and the food counter.

Ford’s relaxed laughter follows them across the aisle, and they fist bump in victory when they hear it.

[kpop-zone]

Selfish | Jihyo

Hogwarts AU | Enemies to Lovers | “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this shit. Fuck.”

Wordcount: 3,890

A/N: Sorry if the formatting is weird, but Tumblr won’t let me post anything on my computer, so I had to post this from my phone 😬

“Y/N!”

When Jihyo saw you running through the hallway, she could immediately feel anger seething within her, and she called your name with a sharp tone.

“Oh Jihyo, fancy meeting you here.”

After hearing her voice, you had stopped running abruptly and were now grinning at her sheepishly, pretending like you didn’t know why she was staring you down.

“Stop feigning innocence, Y/N. You’re late. Again! Snape will for sure deduct some points from Gryffindor.”

Jihyo felt like ripping your head off. Of all the Gryffindors you were by far the most reckless one and usually involved when your house lost some points in one way or another. Your favorite activity was to prank Slytherins which always led to particularly hard punishments for your house by Professor Snape, the head of Slytherin. But you just didn’t seem to learn from your mistakes.

“You’re late too though...”

You smirked cheekily, causing her to get even angrier.

“Yeah but I have this opposing to you.”

With her right hand, she pulled out McGonagall’s letter that allowed her to be late for classes if her position as prefect required it and waved it in front of your face.

“That’s unfair.”

You pouted and Jihyo had to suppress her laughter. It was a little unfair indeed. She had simply overslept this morning, but as a prefect, she rarely got punished for anything. But she always told herself that she deserved those benefits. After all, she had to deal with you and your shenanigans almost every day.

“It’s not. I had some...important stuff to do this morning. And now go before we’re even later!”

She lied and you rolled your eyes before starting to run again.

Like expected, both of you arrived late to class and Snape gave you a lecture about the unreliability of Gryffindors for almost fifteen minutes. At the end, he took away some points from Gryffindor with a smug grin tugging on his lips, causing Jihyo to curse you silently. She was sure that Gryffindor had only lost the house cup championships to Slytherin because of you the past years. This year, she had to put a stop to it. Talking with you, however, wasn’t useful. The two of you were in your fifth year already and not once had you listened to her. She had to find another way to keep you in check. The only question was how... The options had thinned out over the years and it seemed like she was only left with one by now. Despite hating you with a passion though, that option seemed to be a little drastic and Jihyo had shied away from pursuing it until now. A fact that changed, however, when she walked into the Gryffindor common room that night.

“That was hilarious...”

“You should have seen Sejoo’s face.”

“I would have never dared to do that.”

Agitated chatter was filling the whole room and Jihyo immediately knew that something bad must have happened; something that most likely was connected with you in some way.

“What happened?”

Jihyo huffed while plopping down next to Jeongyeon on the couch.

“I don’t think you want to know...”

Her friend responded hesitantly and Jihyo buried her face in her hands in desperation.

“Y/N?”

She asked although she already knew the answer to her question.

“Yeah...Let’s just say the incident involved Y/N, Sejoo, the ‘Ossio Dispersimus’ spell and... a 200-points deduction for Gryffindor.”

Hearing the statement of Jeongyeon, Jihyo’s head snapped up and she looked at her classmate bewildered.

“200 POINTS???”

She yelled, causing the surrounding Gryffindors to look at her in shock. But Jihyo couldn’t care less about them. Enough was enough. You could be glad that you weren’t in the room right now, because she was sure that she would kill you if you were standing in front of her in this moment. You had once again ruined the championship for them with your selfishness and she was tired of it. You had to disappear. If you weren’t part of the student body anymore, Gryffindor couldn’t lose points because of you. And there was one easy way to reach that: she needed to get you suspended for the rest of the year and she already knew how.

If there was one person in this school that hated you more than she did, it was Snape. He had tried to get rid of you on several occasions, but your misdeeds had never been severe enough to make him reach his goal. But if she would help a little, she was sure that they could get you out of the way with joined forces. It was a risky scheme, but Jihyo was sure that she could come up with the perfect plan. For two weeks, she martyred her brain to find a way to set you up while protecting her own reputation simultaneously. Coincidentally and much to Jihyo’s chagrin, you didn’t get into any more trouble in those two weeks. On the contrary, you actually stood out for behaving extremely exemplary. You were the first one to appear in every class and the last one to leave because you offered your help to the teachers who often made you stay longer to clean up the classroom. You also didn’t roam around in the hallways anymore after curfew and didn’t even prank the Slytherins. In fact, there were now other Gryffindors that did more mischief than you.

Your good behavior didn’t manage to lift Jihyo’s mood though. If any, it made it worse. Now that she had finally decided to take action against you, you were playing innocent? Of course, her conscience was immediately telling her to stop her plan and to give you another chance. But her brain strongly opposed to that idea. Your good behavior wasn’t enough to erase all the trouble that you had caused the rest of the year. Therefore, she decided to follow through with her plan, even though her bad conscience heavily weighted down on her.

On the due date of her plan, Jihyo went to the library, tightly clasping a letter in her hand while nervously looking around. Being secretive definitely wasn’t her strong suit. As a prefect, she usually advocated honesty and compliance, so everything that she was doing right now went against her principles. She kept telling herself that it was for the good of Gryffindor, but the little voice in her head kept telling her that she was acting out of pure selfishness and it took all of Jihyo’s strength to muffle it. Arriving in the library, she scanned the students and soon found the perfect protagonists of her scheme. There were some first-year Slytherins roaming the aisles, apparently searching for some books to help them solve their Transfiguration homework. Their school supplies were scattered across a table next to one of the huge windows in the library and Jihyo approached it while skimming her letter one more time.

If you want to learn some curses that they don’t teach at school, come to the Forbidden Forest at midnight.

Sincerely,

Y/N L/N

Jihyo cringed at the primitivity of the letter, but she knew that it would work. Slytherins were overachievers with an affinity for illegal activities. They would be too intrigued by the offer to turn it down. After looking around one last time to make sure that no one was watching her, Jihyo dropped the letter on the table of the first years before scurrying off. Her heart was beating out of her chest and she felt like she was close to passing out. She didn’t know how anyone could enjoy going against the rules; she felt absolutely miserable right now. Not being able to be around people any longer, Jihyo wanted to rush off to her dormitory, but before she could leave the library, someone suddenly called her name.

“Jihyo!”

Jihyo didn’t need a second to realize who the voice belonged to and her body froze instantly. Had you caught her red-handed? For a split second, she considered running away, but before she had the chance to, she could already feel your hand on her shoulder. Reluctantly, she turned around with guilt reflecting in her eyes, ready to get yelled at by you.

“Um...I know it’s a little late, but I wanted to apologize to you.”

You mumbled sheepishly and Jihyo’s jaw dropped. That was definitely not what she had expected to hear from you.

“I know that I’m the reason for a lot of your worries and I also know that I took it too far with the incident with Sejoo two weeks back. I’m really sorry about that and I will try my best to make it up to you and the whole house. I’m proud to be a Gryffindor, so I want to make you guys proud in return too from now on.”

You continued while firmly looking into her eyes as if you wanted to convey the seriousness of your words by allowing her a glance into your soul. A glance that Jihyo didn’t want, because she could feel the complete sincerity of your apology and it made her actions even harder to bear. Why did you need to tell her all this now?

“Um...i-it’s a little late for regret now, don’t you think?”

Jihyo stuttered, trying to sound snappish, but her bad conscience forbade her to harm you even more. You didn’t seem to notice the lack of sharpness in her voice though. Instead, you looked like a beaten puppy who was painfully aware of their misdeeds.

“I know and I’m really sorry. I hope you know that this is nothing personal. I’m really grateful that you’re our prefect, no one would be better at this job than you. I’ve never meant to upset you with my actions.”

You smiled sadly, managing to break Jihyo’s heart. What had she done? You didn’t deserve to be suspended and she didn’t deserve your kind words. What person would set somebody up like this? She needed to get that letter back. Panicked, she looked over your shoulder to the table of the first years, but to her sorrow, the Slytherins were nowhere to be seen. They must have left the library already. Looking back at you, she could see that you were anxiously waiting for some kind of response and she would have loved nothing more than to give you the chance to explain yourself. Maybe the two of you had started off on the wrong foot right from the start. But there was no time to talk right now; she needed to get that letter back first.

“I need to go.”

Jihyo exclaimed breathlessly before running out of the library, leaving you behind with a confused expression on your face. Frantically, she ran down the corridor while scanning the passing people. Yellow, blue and red uniforms passed her by but not a single green one.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this shit. FUCK! Where are those little brats??”

She cursed under her breath as she reached the stairs. She had no idea where the Slytherin common room was and even if she did follow another Slytherin student there, she would not know the passwords to enter. Desperately, Jihyo grasped her hair and turned around her own axis. What was she supposed to do now? The castle was too big to find the first years. Panicked, she walked up and down the corridor, trying to think of a way to prevent the fatal consequences of her plan from happening. Her only chance was to stop the first years from going to the Forbidden Forest tonight. If she could intercept the Slytherins on their way to the meeting point, they couldn’t get caught by a preofessor and the letter wouldn’t come into play. It was the only way to make this right.

Therefore, Jihyo reluctantly went to the Gryffindor common room where she waited on the couch in front of the chimney like on pins and needles. The hours passed painfully slow, but after a while one fellow student after the other left the common room to go to bed until Jihyo was the only one left. 11:45, the clock face read, causing her to jump off the couch and to stumble to the exit. Under no circumstances, she could let the first years slip through her fingers; she needed to stop them. Being allowed to roam the hallways after curfew as a prefect, Jihyo didn’t worry about running into any professors and headed straight to the entrance hall where she was just about to open the heavy double doors when they suddenly swung open without her help.

“Oh Ms. Park, I’m glad to meet you here. Look who I’ve found loitering outside.”

Mr. Filch croaked smugly while dragging two of the first years from the library by their robes.

Shit.

Jihyo tried to fake a smile, but on the inside she felt like dying. How was she supposed to change the course of these events now?

“What a lucky catch. Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Filch. I can take them to their head of house.”

She tried to pull the first years to her side, but Mr. Filch tightly clasped their uniforms.

“It’s ok. I will accompany you. I want to propose some punishments.”

He giggled ugly before shoving the scared Slytherins forward. Reluctantly, Jihyo followed them to Professor Snape’s office while martyring her brain to find a solution for this hopeless situation. But there didn’t seem to be one. Before she knew it, Mr. Filch already knocked on the dark oak door to Snape’s office which swung open a second later to reveal the irritated-looking professor.

“What?”

He grumbled and Mr. Filch snickered silently.

“I’ve found two of your students outside. After curfew.”

Mr. Filch put exaggerated emphasis on his last sentence, causing Professor Snape to grunt angrily before motioning all of them to come inside. He looked at the two first years in disgust, making Jihyo wonder why he was the head of Slytherin in the first place.

“P-professor Snape, we can explain.”

One of the Slytherins stuttered anxiously before pulling out Jihyo’s letter from his robe, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. She couldn’t just rip it out of the younger student’s hands and destroy it, right? That would be too suspicious. Instead, she had to watch how Snape took the letter and started reading it grimly before his face lit up suddenly.

“Y/N...”

He mumbled, looking happier than Jihyo had ever seen him before.

“Let’s pay Professor McGonagall a visit.”

Before anyone could disagree with him, Snape already scurried out of the room and the rest of them had to follow him wordlessly. Jihyo didn’t know who looked more miserable right now. The two first years or herself. All of them slouched their shoulders and regret was written all over their faces. Filch and Snape on the other hand resembled two Cheshire cats, especially after bolting into Professor McGonagall’s office.

“Y/N has endangered the lives of two first years. I plead for an immediate suspension.”

Professor Snape blurted out before giving the other professor the chance to process this ambush. Jihyo had never been more distressed in her life to have a plan of hers work out just like she had wanted it to.

“I beg your pardon?”

Professor McGonagall asked confused, causing Snape to snicker in amusement.

“These two students here have willfully been lured into a life-threatening situation by Y/N L/N, your student.”

He repeated himself while handing over Jihyo’s letter. Silently, the head of Gryffindor read the harmful words before sighing in desperation.

“That is a severe delinquency indeed...but I’m sure there must be an explanation for this.”

Professor McGonagall was quick to jump to your defense, causing Jihyo to draw hope that was destroyed a second later though when Snape scoffed dismissively.

“Yes, there is an explanation. Y/N L/N is a danger for this school, or have you forgotten about the incident with Sejoo only two weeks back? As a responsible head of house, I can’t tolerate such behavior.”

He narrowed his eyes and Professor McGonagall straightened up defensively.

“I haven’t forgotten about that, but if I may remind you, it was your student who used a slur about Ms. Park’s decent here that caused this whole incident.”

She bit back while pointing at Jihyo who flinched in surprise. What did Professor McGonagall mean by that?

An unsettling feeling started to form in Jihyo’s stomach, and she gulped thickly. What if everything wasn’t like it had seemed?

“That still doesn’t justify the endangerment of fellow students.”

Snape tried to distract from the misdeeds of his own student, leading to a stare down between the two heads of houses. The tension in the room increased with every second until the door of the office suddenly swung open. Inside came Filch accompanied by you, causing Jihyo’s eyes to widen. She hadn’t even noticed that the caretaker had left the room.

“I’ve taken the liberty to bring L/N in.”

He snickered before shoving you into the room.

You ended up standing next to Jihyo and looked at her nervously.

“W-what is this about?”

You stuttered, trying to sound relaxed although a slight trembling in your voice gave away that your heart had to be pounding in your chest.

“You have been caught red-handed. It’s over.”

Snape grinned while pointing at the letter in Professor McGonagall’s hand. Confused, you frowned, obviously not being able to know what he was talking about.

“Why would you lure them into the Forbidden Forest?”

The head of Gryffindor asked in disappointment and you looked at Jihyo for help.

“I did what?”

The confusion and fright in your voice was unmistakable and Jihyo hung her head in shame.

“Quit playing innocent Y/N. We have all the proof we need!”

Snape yelled causing you to flinch in shock. In reflex, Jihyo immediately grabbed your hand and you squeezed it tightly.

“You’re going down for this! You lured two first years into the Forbidden Forest. They could have died if Mr. Filch wouldn’t have found them in time. I will not let this go until you are suspended for the rest of the year.”

With every word more tears started to pool in your eyes and Jihyo couldn’t manage to avert her gaze from you. You looked so helpless right now and all she wanted to do was to save you from this horrible place.

“I-I don’t know what you are talking about. I have never seen this letter before. Why would I Iure first years into the Forbidden Forest??”

Your voice cracked in desperation, but Snape just kept on accusing you aggressively. After all, you had a history of pranking Slytherins. Jihyo couldn’t imagine how wronged you had to feel right now, and she gently rubbed your hand with her thumb, not knowing whether she was trying to calm you or herself down by doing so. She knew that she could end all this by admitting that it had been her who had left the letter, but despite being a Gryffindor, she wasn’t brave enough to do that. How was she supposed to explain it? How would she be supposed to ever look into your eyes again?

“That’s enough. We’ve understood your point, Professor.”

Professor McGonagall eventually ended Snape’s rant before looking at you with a sad face.

“I see how this incident is out of character for you, Y/N. Nevertheless, I have to agree with Professor Snape, the evidence is overwhelming. Therefore...you are hereby suspended until we can prove your innocence.”

Your jaw dropped, hearing these words from the head of Gryffindor and you looked at Jihyo as if she was your last hope. But she wasn’t strong enough to save you. Instead, she flung her arms around your neck and pulled you against her body.

“I’m so sorry.”

She sobbed, not being able to hold back her own tears anymore. Suddenly, however, she could feel how you started to stroke her back soothingly.

“Hey, it’s ok. This is not your fault.”

You tried to calm her, apparently not suspecting her betrayal in the slightest.

“Y/N, let’s go to your dormitory to get your belongings.”

Professor McGonagall asked you and you pulled away. With a light smile tugging on your lips, you reached out and gently wiped away the tears that were streaming down Jihyo’s cheeks.

“Don’t be sad, your job is actually going to be a lot easier from now on. Although I really would have loved to celebrate our victory in the championship together at the end of the year.”

You chuckled sadly to cheer her up before trying to turn around to leave but Jihyo held on to you and crashed you into her body again. She couldn’t bear to see you cheering her up any longer. Not after what she had done.

“It was me. I wrote the letter.”

She whispered into your ear while new tears streamed down her cheeks.

In disbelief, you separated your bodies and stared at her with betrayal written all over your face, causing her to avert her gaze. Her guilt was squeezing all air out of her lungs and she waited impatiently for you to expose her. This charade was unbearable.

“And here I was thinking that you were starting to like me back... What a foolish thought.”

You chuckled, causing Jihyo’s head to snap up. Slowly, you started to back away from her while grabbing your forehead in disbelief and Jihyo shakily reached out for you.

“Y/N...”

The words in Jihyo’s mind were all jumbled and the only thing she could utter was your name. Why weren’t you yelling at her? Why weren’t you standing up for your innocence? Your calmness and the disappointed look in your face was slowly killing her. She needed you to punish her for her betrayal, but you didn’t show the slightest inclination to do so.

“No, it’s ok. Don’t worry about it.”

You mumbled, still seeming to be dazed due to her confession.

“Y/N, what are you doing? You should expose me...”

Jihyo shook your shoulder lightly, but you only smiled at her.

“Yeah you’re probably right. But I won’t. I could never hurt you like that.”

You shrugged while trying to remove her hand from her shoulder but Jihyo only tightened her grasp.

“What are you talking about, Y/N?”

She furrowed her brow in confusion although the blurry picture in her head was slowly starting to get clearer, revealing a truth that she would have preferred to keep ignoring.

“I genuinely hope that you’re happy now, Jihyo. That’s all I ever wanted. You should look out for Sejoo and his gang though. They don’t like to see a muggle-born in such a powerful position and I don’t know what they will do now that I’m not going to be there anymore.”

With that, you removed her hand from your shoulder and walked up to Professor McGonagall who looked at you apologetically before giving you a sign to leave the room. One last time, you turned around and nothing hurt Jihyo more than to see that the sadness in your eyes still couldn’t manage to erase the affection that reflected in them. She had been so blind all this time...

Who would have thought that she had been the selfish one all along?

[gentlemancrow]

Ohh prompts! Maybe 21 and some shippy JonTim?

OK I know I agonized about this one but NO REALLY THANK YOU IT WAS GREAT <3! It was a GREAT exercise for writing in so many ways for me! Also I know the prompt "Maybe you should sit down" sort of implies getting bad news or something more than what popped into my brain, but this is what popped IMMEDIATELY into my brain so I went with it 83 Also again this is my first JonTim so be gentle with me uwu! Honestly it's my first time writing Tim in general for longer than one sentence so there's that too jfhlsajf XT Anyway enjoy!

Jon would have infinitely preferred to think of his bungled little excursion as a calculated risk that the whims of capricious probability had simply decided he had lost on that particular doomed occasion. What it truly was, however, was an infinitely predictable culmination of skipping his physio stretches for three mornings in a row, deciding a quick jaunt into the stacks to hunt for a statement to cross reference with the one he had been working on all morning did not, in fact, require the aid of his cane, and several cups of black tea on an empty stomach with their resultant caffeine jitters that had left him splayed and wobbling like a newborn fawn with one hand anchoring him in a vice grip to the handle of a file drawer. His bad leg ached in that special way it did that he knew all too well could be catastrophic if he moved it even slightly wrong, and set him back significantly on his physio progress. That oft repeated foible would also attract the ire and derision of literally every single person who knew him, never mind the physical therapists at the clinic, and he was very much not prepared to deal with that on top of everything else.

Lucky for him he wasn’t even supposed to be back at the institute in the first place, so no one would be looking for him, and he was reasonably assured that he would have plenty of time to figure out how to escape unscathed, or at least enough to hide a suspicious limp for a day or two. Unlucky for him, probability it seemed, also liked to double down.

“Alright there, boss man?”

Tim’s jovial voice echoed through the file cabinets like the worst song on the juke at the pub out of all of the hundreds of better selections just as Jon was preparing to gingerly move his spasmodic leg. He sighed and closed his eyes bitterly.

“Oh, yes, just fine, just dangling precariously from this file cabinet to try out a new stretch, it’s called the ‘mind your own business’,” he growled.

Tim chuckled, the echoes of it raising pinprick hackles of irritation on the back of Jon’s neck as he emerged from the shadows, hands on his hips and wry, crooked grin on his scarred face.

“Maybe you should sit down.”

“And pray tell where, Timothy?” Jon snapped in a low growl.

Tim made a low whistle.

“Yikes! Busting out the -othy today? You must be in a bad way.”

“You think so? Whatever gave you that brilliant idea?” Jon drawled, rolling his eyes, “Are you going to stand there gawking and making me feel even more like an invalid or are you going to deign to render me aid?”

“I think I can spare a moment, just for you,” came the predictably smug retort, “What exactly would you like me to do?”

“I just need to sit a moment and massage it out, so fetching a chair from somewhere ought to suffice.”

Tim pondered the request as he strolled to Jon’s side, chewing his lower lip pensively.

“Well, I could do that for you, but seeing as you’re not actually supposed to be here yet I am a little concerned that dragging a chair randomly down to the archives would attract… unwanted attention? You know Martin would have a conniption.”

Sighing heavily, Jon pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

“Good point.”

“How about my lap then?” Tim continued without missing a beat.

Jon choked on his own tongue as the tips of his ears burned like cinders.

“TIM! Is this really, truly, and honestly the appropriate moment to be… making a pass at me?”

Unfazed, Tim pressed a dramatic hand over his heart.

“Jon, I’m wounded! Ordinarily I’d be deeply offended you’d think my flirting skills so inelegant and crass, but I was actually being sincere this time.”

A dark brow slid skeptically, pointedly up Jon’s forehead.

“Beg pardon, but how could that possibly have ever, in any situation, been construed as sincere?”

“Well, we’ve determined a chair is too risky, the floor isn’t going to do you any favors, and I know you won’t let me carry you back to your office, so I won’t even bother to ask, so where does that leave us, hmmm? Plus, if you recall, I had much the same physio you did, I know the massages and the stretches, I can have you patched up and out of here in no time,” Tim elaborated, counting off on his fingers.

Jon hated it when anyone other than him was making the most sense in the conversation, and he gnashed his teeth and growled his begrudging acquiescence.

“…Fine.”

“Brilliant. Alright to touch?” Tim asked brightly, hands hovering a respectful few inches from Jon’s hand and shoulders.

Eyes narrowing to smoldering brown slits, the last embers of a dying fire, Jon made him wait a few moments for the wordless nod of approval.

“Okay, just taking your hand there, my other hand’s got your other arm, and easy does it…”

With surprising finesse and gentleness, Tim took Jon’s hand and eased him onto the ground with him and into his lap, taking great care to keep his seized-up leg straight and comfortable. Jon melded against his assistant, looping his arms loosely around Tim’s waist while he tipped his head against his shoulder and let his twisted-up bones and sinew go slack against the radiantly warm aegis of him. His shirt was screamingly loud and his hair was freshly pink and he always smelled crisp and free and wild, like a sea breeze on a sun-soaked twilight. Jon liked the way he smelled, and the self-assured posture of his broad shoulders and the heartening solidness of a body meant to be shirtless as often as possible holding him so secure in the humming powerlines of his care. Just to be touched was a visceral melody of nerve endings and synapses, to be touched by him was a blinding symphony of electric light and sound perfectly in tune to the aria of his core where so few dared to go.

“Not so awful right?” Tim teased, squeezing his affected knee with care.

“Get on with it, Stoker,” Jon murmured languidly into the crook of his neck.

“Ohoh, last name now. I’m on real thin ice, aren’t I?” he chortled in reply, pads of his fingers feeling out the ridge of a patella and skating down his calf.

Jon winced, opening one eye to glance guiltily up at the ever-chipper mien of Tim.

“I-“ he stuttered, his protest melting into a sigh, “No, you’re not. I’m sorry. You’re being helpful and I’m being an ass.”

“Mmm, that’s a smidge hyperbolic. You’re being snappish because you got caught being naughty, and you’re in pain, and you also got caught being in pain, which is probably the worst offense out of all of them.”

“I suppose…” Jon conceded, closing his eye and letting his body go slack again.

“Okay to roll your cuff up? Or would you prefer trouser leg down?”

“You can roll it up, I don’t mind.”

Tim promptly, neatly, folded the cuff of Jon’s trousers up only to just above the knee, baring the cratered mares of his leg. His fingers felt them out, felt the places where the worms bored holes in him that had forgotten which way to mend and pulled and tugged in a confused riot of fibrous muscle and scar tissue, and rolled through them with slow, deliberate tenderness. Jon hissed softly in pain, but Tim’s fingers knew the weft and trail of his muscles, and he squeezed and massaged and tilled them with expert care. Unhurriedly, painstakingly, Jon’s knee unlocked, and it bowed gratefully outward with the sigh of relief into a Hawaiian print collar.

“You’re allowed to hurt you know,” Tim whispered at length, fingers just stroking idly now.

“Everyone’s allowed to hurt,” Jon replied automatically, “It’s only that those of us who can bear it have the duty to do so for those who can’t.”

Tim chewed his lip in the wake of that, weighing his feelings against his words carefully.

“And what god decides who is who?”

Only silence from the clinging, boneless and wounded creature in his lap.

“I’m just saying. I was right there with you, the same thing happened to me, so maybe share a little of this one, hmm?” he tried again, nudging at Jon’s temple with the tip of his nose, letting the silvered chestnut hairs tickle.

The strings of Jon’s body wound taut again around Tim’s fingers still tracing blind patterns on his shin, and he glanced up, daring to ensnare his irises only for a moment.

“I’ll try.”

A soft, breathless laugh whisked past Tim’s lips as he shook his head fondly.

“I guess that’s the best I’m going to get out of the high and mighty head archivist,” he huffed, “But I’ll take it. Now, where can I kiss it all better for you?”

It took Jon a full cycle of pouting, scowling, and digging vengeful fingers into Tim’s back before he could conjure an answer.

“Forehead, please.”

“You got it.”

Jon ducked his head to receive Tim’s lips pressed against his creased brow, and while he knew he bore a burden too great to be carried away with velvet kisses and frank words, for a moment at least he could feel just a bit lighter.

[newtonsheffield]

Any headcannons of Anthony just being too attracted tonKate? Like he’s just floored by this tiny angry lady? Big fan btw :)

First of all: Thanks for reading these little rambles, truly just, an amazing feat. 

Oh, our poor boy Anthony spent a lot of his time being a little too flustered around Kate before (and after) they got together (I’ve put in a cut because it got so long)

The very first time Anthony realised he was attracted to Kate Sheffield was approximately six hours after they met and it was her voice that did it. He was walking past her office on his way to get a cup of tea, his assistant Harold absolutely nowhere to be seen, and he heard, it. A firm, clear tone, ringing out across the bullpen I’m very sorry Mr James, but that’s simply unacceptable, You’ll have to meet me halfway on this! It was a command more than anything, and Anthony felt himself growing a little hot under the collar, his reaction was immediate. He turned towards the sound and found her seated at her desk, her leg’s crossed, exuding confidence, her eyebrow raised questioningly at him. He turned on his heel and marched back to his office, telling himself it wasn’t this woman eliciting this reaction, he had been raised with a healthy respect for strong women and that was it. He was not attracted to Kate fucking Sheffield. 

His dream started the night of the first picnic, when he’d seen her hair shining in the sunlight, her skin glowing golden brown, It started with Kate perched on the edge of the conference room table, her stocking clad legs crossed, her expression dismissive her eyebrow raised, and it finished with Anthony waking up tangled in his bedsheets, panting, feeling very very Warm. He shook it off as a once off, just a reaction due to the proximity they worked in. And he almost believed it until he walked into their weekly staff meeting a little early, to find Kate fucking Sheffield perched on the corner of the table, her stocking clad legs crossed, laughing with her assistant Lucy. She looks up when Anthony enters, raising her eyebrow and says Good Morning Mr. Bridgerton a dismissive little smirk playing on her lips. Anthony can feel himself starting to get warm, it’s his dream incarnate and something is growing in the pit of his stomach. He marches past her quickly dropping into his seat with a clipped Sheffield get off the table. This is a place of business you know. Lucy and Kate exchange a confused glance

When he realises he’s in love with her nearly a year later, it gets so much worse. He’s lightly dropped dinner on her desk, a peace offering for what happened between them on Friday night, and a little because his brother’s been loudly quoting a gossip column about their alleged relationship. But Kate is apparently in no mood for his apology, she’s tired and snappish, and this infuriating and achingly beautiful woman is yelling at him, her intelligent eyes sparking with anger, and he just can’t help himself. Suddenly he’s pulled her to his chest, his mouth claiming hers and he feels simultaneously like he’s on fire and in heaven, because his dream truly truly did not do Kate fucking Sheffield justice. 

There’s a casual intimacy in someone letting you see them in their least put together state. The Kate Sheffield that Anthony is familiar with is always impeccably dressed. Her business attire all crisp lines, and impossibly tall heels and stockings that Anthony is absolutely thrilled to learn Kate is traditional enough to hold up with garters. But when she answers her front door the Monday night after they start dating, Anthony finds his favourite Kate. She’s wearing plaid pyjama shorts, and a T-shirt that appears to be bearing the album artwork for Spiceworld, of all bloody things, and her hair is up in a messy bun and Anthony learns that she wears glasses, and he realises right then and there that this Kate, that only the lucky few get to see, is his favourite. As she turns around and walks down her hall asking him if he’d like some Ice Cream I have Chunky Monkey and Phish Food  she’s saying but he finds himself muttering under his breath instead Kate Fucking Sheffield

Lord, I’m so sorry about me, this one really snowballed, Thanks for stopping by! Hope this is what you were after, and Happy Sunday! 

[merry-thieves]

Possible meanings of Chain of Iron snippets

Yes, this is going to be a long post. 

I didn’t put all teasers here only those where I could actually come up with something.

Alastair looked amused. “Never before have I heard such a concise statement of the ludicrous philosophy with which you and your school friends go through the world.”

So, Alastair is definitely speaking to one of the Merry Thieves

probably James, since Al and Matthew aren’t on the best terms and conversations between Thomas and Al would go in another direction (either fighting or with way more feelings)

it seems like James and Alastair are on quite good terms here if Alastair isn’t snappish and shows his true (happy) emotions

Anna was fortress-surrounded by her friends: tall, handsome Thomas; Christopher, who shared his sister’s stern delicacy of feature, peacock Matthew, who always looked as if he’d just rolled out of an unmade bed piled with silks and velvet. And Eugenia Lightwood, who hadn’t bothered to take off her canary-yellow gloves or hat, as if she were ready to run out the door any moment.

They all eyed Ariadne suspiciously as she approached Anna. Anna didn’t seem to see her at all; she was leaning back with one booted foot braced on the wall behind her. She was all lean black and white lines, her close-fitting jacket following the outline of her slim curves, her head thrown back as she laughed. Her ruby pendant glimmered in the hollow of her throat.

Keep your head up, Ariadne, she told herself. You can do this.

“Hello, Anna,” Ariadne said.

First of all, Eugenia is in this group which is interesting regarding the main characters in Chain of Iron

Is Eugenia part of the main group? Has she an important role to play? (we are supposed to find out the reason why she is disgraced)

We have Ariadne’s pov here, so she might play a big role too in Choi, at least we will have more of her and Anna’s relationship

Also, she calls Matthew “peacock” which is so accurate and funny!

Alastair’s gaze flicked to Matthew. “Why,” he said, “are you not even wearing a hat?”

“And cover up this hair?” Matthew indicated his golden locks with a flourish. “Would you blot out the sun?”

Okay, Matthew and Alastair aren’t brawling which is a good sign

Also, where are they? There has to be a good reason if both of them are attending and standing next to each other

I’m guessing they’re outside since they’re supposed to wear hats 

The brave princess Lucretia raced through the marble halls of the palace. "I must find Cordelia," she gasped. "I must save her."

"I believe the Prince holds her even now, captive in his throne room!" Sir Jerrod exclaimed. "But Princess Lucretia, even though you are the most beautiful and wise lady that I have ever met, surely you cannot fight your way through a hundred of his stoutest palace guard!" The knight’s green eyes flashed. His straight black hair was disarranged, and his white shirt was entirely undone.

"But I must!" Lucretia cried.

So, the main thing I want to point out here is that Lucie is crushing so hard on Jesse!

and does she picture him with an open shirt or am I reading too much into this?

James spoke at last, and there was real kindness in his voice. “You must give people time, Alastair,” he said. “We are none of us perfect, and no one expects perfection. But when you have hurt people you must allow them their anger. Otherwise it will only become another thing you have tried to take away.”

Alastair seemed to hesitate. “James,” he said. “Does he think —“

Soooo, James and Alastair are friendly now? (please, please, please)

And who does Alastair have to give time? Matthew or more likely Thomas?

Also, James is one eloquent babe

“I know that you’ve been doing something — something you’re keeping secret. I’m not angry,” Cordelia hastened to add. “I  just wish you’d tell me what it is.”

Lucie tried to cover her surprise.

it was about time that those two speak about all their secrets! They want to become Parabatai for Raziel’s sake!

but I have the sneaking suspicion that Lucie is going to deflect the question or is going to make something up to avoid telling the truth

(please let me be wrong)

“Alastair! Cordelia!” A familiar voice bellowed up from downstairs.

Sona went white and laid a hand against the wall to steady herself. “Elias?”

I’m not sure about you guys but going white and bracing oneself against a wall doesn’t seem like someone is happy

So, I guess Sona isn’t really happy that Elias is back

is there another reason besides the drinking why she isn’t

and is Elias mad at his children? I mean he is bellowing

also why is Elias mad at all? All his charges were dropped and he is a free man once more

Cordelia shivered a little, though it was not cold in the room. “There is something weighing on you, Matthew,” she said gently. “A secret. Will you tell me what it is?”

She saw his hand go to his breast pocket, where he often kept his flask. Then he lowered it stiffly to his side and took a deep breath. “You do not know what you are asking.”

“Yes, I do,” she said. “I am asking for the truth. Your truth. You know mine, and I do not even know what makes you so unhappy.”

Cordelia told Matthew everything about her father and maybe about her feelings for James

if we’re lucky Matthew tells Cordelia about the poisoning and someone can finally help him (I think CC said that Matthew would tell Cordelia everything in Chain of Iron, hopefully that’s true)

also, Matthew doesn’t want to drink after Cordelia told him the story about her father

Matthew also found out why Alastair had been so mean in school and that Matthew can't really partially blame him for what happened with Charlotte

Jesse glanced out the window. They were passing through Piccadilly Circus, nearly deserted at such a late hour. The statue of Eros in the center was lightly dusted with snow; a lone tramp slept upon the steps below it. “Don’t have too much hope, Lucie. Sometimes hope is dangerous.”

“Have you said that to Grace?”

Jesse shook his head. “She won’t listen.”

is there a possibility that Lucie won’t try to raise Jesse from the dead and instead tries to stop Grace from doing so? (the parallels between this and qoaad are uncanny)

I don’t think that there is anything that will stop grace from trying to perform necromancy other than force

“I’ve been trying to hate you,” Thomas said quietly, “for what you did to Matthew. You richly deserve to be hated for what you have done.”

Alastair’s dark eyes glittered. “It wasn’t just his mother I slandered. It was your father, too. You know it. So you don’t have to—to act all high-minded about this. Stop pretending you are only upset on behalf of Matthew. Hate me on your own behalf, Thomas.”

he is calling him Thomas!!! Ahhhh! (so they’re probably alone)

Thomas doesn’t really hate Alastair at this point but also hasn’t fully forgiven him

at least he hasn’t thrown Alastair into the themes 

maybe Thomas is trying to suppress the fact that Alastair also wronged Thomas’s own family and it’s easier for him to direct his attention to Matthew’s family?

His golden eyes were fixed on her, fierce as a hawk’s gaze. She said, "It doesn’t matter what I said. I wanted them to leave you alone —"

"I don’t believe you," he said. She could feel the slight tremors running through his body — tremors of stress, that meant he was holding himself very still. Holding himself back. "You don’t say things you don’t mean, Daisy —"

Okay now, what did she say? I’m guessing something quite flattering or that she loved him maybe?

also, who didn’t want to leave James alone? Some bigoted Enclave members?

is James trying to fight against the bracelet’s spell? Or is he breaking Cordelia’s heart yet again?

James closed his eyes. Against the back of his eyelids, he could see the city take shape—the minarets flung darkly against a blue sky, the silver river. Cordelia’s voice, low and familiar, rose above the clamor of his nightmare. He followed it out of the darkness, like Theseus following the length of thread out of the Minotaur’s labyrinth. And it was not the first time. Her voice had lifted him out of fever, once, had been his light in shadows. . . . A sharp pain spiked through his temples. He blinked his eyes open: he was firmly back in the present, his friends all looking at him worriedly. Cordelia had already moved away from him, leaving behind the lingering scent of jasmine. He could still feel where her fingers had rested against his shoulder.

JORDELIA! (Sorry; I just had to get that out)

What city is this? One in a demon dimension?

And does James have some kind of visions now? Interesting...

I love the connection between James and Cordelia

Apparently, the gracelet is trying to suppress James's feelings and memories of Cordelia...but please tell me he notices here that he is in love with her?

Also, Cordelia is trying to stay away from James :(

Hands caught his wrists; he was hauled up roughly, an arm around his back. he smelled brandy and cologne.

“Matthew,” he said, in a dry voice. “James needs water,” Christopher said. “Do we have any water?” “Never touch the stuff,” said Matthew, settling James onto the long sofa. He sat down next to him, staring so intently into James’s face that, despite everything, James had to stifle a laugh. “I’m fine, Matthew,” said James. “Also, I don’t know what you expect to discover by looking into my eyeball.”

Okay WHAT IS UP with James in the latest snippets?!? I NEED answers!

Is James follwing in his father's footsteps? Regarding drugs you know...

Also, Matthew has a tendency to stare into Jame's face (not that I blame him)

Christopher!

Okay, I'm devestated that James knows it's Matthew because he smells of alcohol. I'm NOT okay!

Also, what kind of stuff is this?

“You should have told us,” said Thomas. “We would have helped you move your things. I’m exceptionally good at carrying large objects.” “And think of all those hairbrushes you would have had to relocate,” Lucie said. “Haven’t you got six or seven?” Matthew glowered at her affectionately. “I try to be at least as stylish as our local ghosts.”

I think it's clear that Matthew just moved and didn't tell any of his friends of his plans...Why Matthew, why?

Also, Thomas and Lucie are just so wholesome how they try to brighten the situation with their comments

Sooooo, is Thomas also good at carrying people *cough*Alastair*cough*, just asking...?

How many Hairbrushes does one need? Seriously, what kind of purpose do seven hairbrushes serve?

Don't worry Matthew, only Magnus can beat your stylishness

That’s all for now! Should I add anything else in your opinion?

[superheroesofbothuniverses]

TaserWings: Close Call

“How Long are you guys going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?”

Four heads turned as a sleepy voice spoke: a voice that for a few hours, they didn’t think they’d ever hear again.

“Darcy!” Steve exclaimed, relief palpable in his tone. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah. And I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Why are you all looking so stressed?” She wondered, eying Clint, Steve, Sam and Bucky. She remembered being on a mission with them, but what happened was fuzzy. She figured she must be on the good drugs.

“You got shot, doll,” Bucky said, swallowing hard. “It was bad.”

“Oh,” she said quietly, knowing that Bucky never stretched the truth on matters like this. He knew what bad looked like better than any of them. “No wonder you’re all huddled up in here. Please tell me we got him?”

“Sure did,” Clint responded with a grin. “He’ll be going away for a long time. You did great, Darce.”

“Yeah!” She tried to raise her fist in triumph, but quickly winced and gave up.

“Guess I’ll be off active duty for a while and doomed to a desk job,” she sighed, wrinkling her nose in annoyance as she quickly looked her friends over to see if they were hiding injuries. She’d gotten good at seeing past their “I’m fine” act.

“What’s wrong, Wilson? You haven’t said one word.”

Sam, for once, was the quietest of them all and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a very long time.

Steve and Bucky glanced at each other and then at their friend with concern. They’d witnessed firsthand his reaction to Darcy’s near death and it had been eye-opening to say the least.

“Our feathered friend here would not leave you since we brought you in,” Bucky reported. “I’ve never seen him so agitated.”

He winked at Sam, who was not amused. Clint grinned.

“Yeah. I’ve never seen him freak out like that before,” the archer added. “Thought he was gonna take someone’s head off.”

Pulling Steve aside, Sam muttered in his ear.

“Get these clowns out of here so I can talk to her in peace?”

“Sure, bud,” Steve responded sympathetically. He knew Clint and Bucky were ready to pounce on anything they could tease their friend about. Goodness knows Steve had been on the receiving end of that when he and Sharon had started dating.

Shooting Clint and Bucky the Eyebrows Of Authority, he gestured towards the door.

“Ah, c’mon, Steve!” Bucky complained. “You know I hate it when you make that face. Sorry, Darce. One cannot disobey Captain puppy eyes. I’ll see you later.”

Darcy chuckled. “I’ll be here,” she sighed, waving at Clint as he turned and followed Bucky and Steve.

“Get over here,” she ordered Sam once the door had closed, pointing to the chair by her bed. He sat down beside her and she noticed the tell tale signs of emotion and exhaustion.

“Are you okay?” She asked worriedly.

“Physically,” he answered, not quite looking her in the eye. “It’s gonna take me a while to get over nearly losing you, though. When I heard the shot and saw you fall, I thought you were a goner, for sure.”

He shuddered at the memory and Darcy reached out her hand, which he grasped like a lifeline.

“I’m going to assume you kept me alive until the ambulance showed up. No one else on the team has the skills for that. You’re awesome, Sam. Thank you.”

Sam, who still saw her blood staining his hands as he’d frantically tried to keep her from bleeding out, grimaced as he said, “you’re welcome.”

“I’ve had some narrow escapes before,” Darcy went on, brow furrowing. “You never looked this wrecked after one before.”

“That’s because you’ve never temporarily died before,” he bit out.

“Oh,” Darcy said, eyes growing wide. “Wow. That would explain it.”

She lay back and pondered her existence for a minute, shaken by the realization of just how close she’d come to dying and how she had failed to tell Sam something very important. Gauging his reactions, she realized he was probably holding something back as well.

“Darcy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for being snappish,” Sam apologized, brown eyes now remorseful. “It’s my fear talking. I need to tell you something I should have long ago.”

“What a coincidence!” Darcy responded, liking where this was going. “So do I.”

She looked at their hands and squeezed a little tighter, smiling shyly.

Sam grasped what she was hinting at and suddenly grinned brightly, lighting up his tired, dirty, and bruised face.

“So you’re saying you like me more than a work friend? Cause that’s what I’m saying.”

“Oh, yeah,” Darcy confirmed, beaming in a lopsided way that Sam thought was ridiculously cute.

“I’ve crushed on you ever since the South Africa Incident,” she admitted. “Clint knows, but I bribed him into silence.”

“And I’ve had a thing for you since about a week after you joined us,” Sam said. “But I just now realized how strong it was, when the thought of you being gone……..just…….”

“Made you freak out?” Darcy finished.

“Yeah.”

Sam brought his other hand up and placed it on top of Darcy’s as he leaned a little closer to her and looked deep into her eyes.

“Darcy Lewis, you wanna go out with me?” He asked.

“You bet your pretty wings I do!” She accepted eagerly, smirking back at him. “But we’ll have to settle for bedside flirting for a while, I’m afraid. Stupid bullet wounds.”

She pointed at her bandaged stomach with an annoyed look.

“I can work with that,” Sam said softly.

Darcy very much liked the promise in his voice and smiled back at him dreamily.

Meanwhile, Bucky was shamelessly listening through the door, blatantly ignoring Steve’s “I’m Disappointed In You” face.

“Well?” Clint asked eagerly.

“They finally admitted their feelings,” Bucky reported gleefully. “I can’t wait to tell Nat!”

“I’m gonna have to pay up, but it’s totally worth it to see those too Finally get their act together,” Clint said fondly.

“Darcy was right. You ARE creepers,” Steve said, a touch of disgust in his voice. He couldn’t help but feel happy, though.

[blitzturtles]

Title: Night Off

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: DC Comics

Pairing(s): JayDick

Summary: “If you’re not here to kill me, then get out!” Dick calls without moving. He should probably double check as to who his intruder is, but the idea of moving is somehow more unappealing than the idea of one of his enemies actually managing to break into his apartment. He’ll take the risk of potential kidnapping if it means that they’ll do most of the bodily lifting for him.

Notes: I was having a chronic pain flare, asked my wife who I should inflict it on, and her answer was, “Jotaro and/or Dick Grayson”. So here’s the Dick Grayson version. Btw, I’m doing a writing / fic giveaway! Check out this post to see how to enter. Goes until 8.25.21!

-

It’s extremely rare for Dick to pull out of a planned patrol, but there are nights when he can’t handle the thought, much less actually suit up and venture out into Gotham. Tonight is one of those nights. Old injuries are rearing their ugly head, making themselves too known to be ignored, and he knows that going out will be a mistake. He’s more likely to cause trouble than he is to prevent it, and he’s not about to cut into someone else’s patrol just to have someone come to his rescue. That’s time that could be better spent, and he hates the idea of anyone knowing the degree of pain he’s dealing with. To know that it cripples him to the point where walking is a slow, agonizing process. It feels like a weakness that he’s not prepared to share.

Bruce has chronic pain. That’s something Dick’s known for years. Possibly since he was a child, but the man never seems to be stopped or even slowed down by it. He’s never missed a patrol. Never needed someone to fish him out of a bad situation brought on by his knee completely giving out on him (not that Dick admitted to that being the problem; he’d lied and claimed it had been freshly injured.) It’s frustrating to watch, and it sets a precedent that Dick can’t keep up with. It makes him feel pathetic on nights like these, and it’s all he can do to try to distract himself with crappy television. Up until the moment when something crashes into his apartment through his-- previously locked-- window.

“If you’re not here to kill me, then get out!” Dick calls without moving. He should probably double check as to who his intruder is, but the idea of moving is somehow more unappealing than the idea of one of his enemies actually managing to break into his apartment. He’ll take the risk of potential kidnapping if it means that they’ll do most of the bodily lifting for him.

Sure enough, Jason shows up in the doorway of his living room a moment later with his helmet at his side, but his cowl still fixed in place. “You’re not dressed,” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, and it makes Dick’s eyebrows climb up toward his hairline.

“Are you my babysitter now?”

“No,” Jason snarls, “I’m not fucking Bruce.”

“Alright then,” Dick shrugs and tries to leave it at that. The keyword being ‘try’, because Jason never could leave well enough alone.

“Why aren’t you out?”

“Changed my mind. Am I not allowed to do that?” Shit. He sounds unnecessarily snappish. More so aloud than he does in his own head, which he knows is the pain getting the better of him, but that doesn’t mean he wants it to reflect in his tone. He heaves a sigh, “Sorry, just wasn’t up for it tonight, you know? Think I twisted my ankle a little last night, and I thought I would take a night. See if the swelling goes down.”

Jason frowns as he mulls over those words, but he doesn’t outright reject them. “Okay,” he starts, and Dick almost sighs in relief, if only internally, “So that was bullshit.”

Fuck.

“Jason-”

“We can do this all night, so you can keep lying to me, or you can just tell me what’s going on,” Jason’s gaze shifts from Dick to the rest of his apartment, undoubtedly looking for some kind of clue. Or possibly some sort of trouble. Neither of which he finds, because Dick’s too stubborn to ice his joints, and the compression wraps he has on are hidden by his clothes.

“I’m not kidding about my ankle,” Dick says after a moment of contemplating his word choice.

“You’re just lying about the cause,” Jason concludes after a moment. His head is cocked to the side, but it’s apparent that he’s fixated on the offending joint, “And it’s not the only thing bothering you.”

The problem with Jason is that he’s far more observant than most people give him credit for. And intelligent, for that matter. It’s easy to forget that Jason thinks Shakespeare is a fun read, and that he’ll spend hours debating the topic with Alfred, if given the chance (and Alfred is always willing). There’s also the fact that Jason tends to pick and choose when he’s going to press an issue; often because he intends to come back around to it, but only when the situation turns in his favor. But the favor here has always been Jason’s. Dick’s stuck on the couch of his apartment, unwilling to move unless absolutely necessary, because his knee will feel like it’s being torn in half if he does, and that’s to say nothing about either ankle.

“I don’t really want to talk about this, Jason,” Dick uses the name for emphasis this time. With a short, clipped tone that he hopes conveys just how badly he would like Jason to leave, but Jason’s also nothing if not obstinate.

“Have you tried ice yet? Or heat?”

The words startle Dick, and he looks to Jason with far too many emotions readable on his face. Jason merely raises an eyebrow in return, and Dick sighs, “No. I don’t think I can get up.”

“Oh,” Jason breathes the word, like he hadn’t expected the answer. And he probably hadn’t. He’d probably expected Dick to continue to deny reality. To lie through his teeth until Jason gave up (which wasn’t going to happen, but that’s beyond the point now.) “Okay. Got any ice in the freezer?”

“Yes- what?”

Jason’s gone in an instant, heading for the kitchen with little concern for Dick’s desire to be left alone. He comes back a minute later with several bags full of freshly scooped ice. He passes them to Dick, one at a time, while Dick slowly places them on various offending limbs.

There’s a dumbstruck expression on Dick’s face, as if he can’t fully process what’s happening, which might have to do with why he doesn’t stop it either. Jason disappears again, this time into the bathroom, and Dick just- let’s him. He’s not sure what else to do now that Jason’s set his mind to- whatever it is he’s set his mind to.

“Here,” Jason says when he comes back with a paper cup of water and a handful of pills. It takes Dick a moment to remember that, a. His first aid kit is in the bathroom just like most peoples’, and the leap for Jason figuring that out isn’t really a leap and b. That Jason’s come here for a (very rough) patch up job more than once, which means he already knows exactly where he can find said kit.

Dick swallows the painkillers with little prompting and passes the cup back to Jason, who must dispose of it in the trash, given that he disappears into the kitchen again. When he comes back, he looks at Dick with that sort of halfcocked, curious expression he gets.

“Anything else I can do?”

“Uh- no. I think you’ve done plenty,” and Dick means that. Jason’s done more for him than Dick would have done for himself, and the ice actually feels kind of nice on the throbbing joints. Combined with the compression, it’s the best relief he’s gotten all day. Maybe the medication will actually do something for a change.

“Good,” Jason says, and Dick assumes that’s the end of that. That he’ll go right back out the window that he came in, but, instead, Jason flops on the couch cushion nearest to him and nods at the long forgotten TV. “What’re we watching?”

“We?”

“Yeah,” Jason says without missing a beat, “I got nothing better to do, and distractions can help with pain. Trust me.”

And two things occur to Dick right then. The first being that Jason isn’t just doing this out of some obligation. He wants to help. Wants to make Dick feel better, and Dick doesn’t know what to do with that information. And the second is that Jason knows, on a very personal level, what it’s like to be in so much pain that his body doesn’t cooperate with him, and of course he does. Jason’s death had been far from pleasant, and he still wears the scars of it. There’s no doubt he feels it in his bones and damaged cartilage. Never mind all the other injuries since then, and there’s a long, long list that Dick’s personally seen the fallout of several times.

“I don’t know,” Dick says once his brain starts processing in the right direction again, “CSI?”

Jason snorts, “What, want to spend all night yelling at the screen?”

“Maybe,” Dick says with a shrug, “You got something better?”

“Hell yeah,” Jason reaches for the remote, and Dick passes it to him without question, “We’re gonna watch some good ole-fashioned zombies.”

And there goes Dick’s eyebrows again, “Really?”

“Sometimes a man just needs something a little autobiographical, quit judging,” and Jason says it with such a severe tone that Dick can’t help but laugh.

Truthfully, it’s the best he’s felt all night, and that doesn’t change once the movie-- however bad it may be-- starts. He catches Jason with a small, half-smile tugging at the corner of one side of his lips, and it helps Dick to relax a bit, to know that he isn’t being judged.

[vaguely-concerned]

R-r-r-rewatch thoughts for The Mandalorian S2 Ep2

(or Chapter 10 as they seem resolved to call it)

- can I just express my joy for a moment that in one episode we get peli, the answer to my pleas for female representation in the ‘sketchy middle aged car mechanic’ niche, and a female alien designed with no consideration towards sexiness. (I mean I’m sure there’s someone. There is always someone somewhere on the Internet, is the bitter truth history has shown to us. but it’s not the intention behind the design haha)  

- they do take great pains to deliberately show you boba’s armour several times both in the recap and in the episode itself, so never despair he is very likely still on his way onto our screens once more

- this dude holding the baby hostage wanting specifically the jetpack in exchange is the one (1) break this whole episode gave din lol 

also the Patented Mando Finger Curl of Stress while he talked softly and calmly to not promp this asshole to make a sudden move... the most endearing character tic, I love my space cowboy dad so much 

- fun continuity detail: din is all out of whistling birds now, and you can see it here!

I wonder if he could still use the same mechanism with different ‘ammo’, it’s just not as effective? from the way the armorer spoke whistling birds seem quite rare and it would be an inefficient use of beskar if that’s the only thing it can be loaded with

 - I love how after the last episode, a 50 min epic with a bunch of original trilogy significance and impressive technical achievements and exciting character reveals, I was like ‘yeah okay I suppose that is quite interesting’, and this mess/comedy of inconveniences is the thing that fully makes my brain tip into the obsessive ‘BABY AND DAD SHOW!! BABY AND DAD SHOW!!!!!’ mind state lol

- ah the traditional ‘mando trudging slowly but steadily through the desert’ montage we all love to see (I hope this is going to be a Thing for the second episode of every season from now on) 

Also I assume his suit has some sort of temperature regulation built in and that’s how he didn’t, y’know. die under the blazing desert sun

-

CAT FIGHT CAT FIGHT man I love the jawa. also mando doesn’t even glance over at them, really emphasizing how he’s like. done with this entire day (and it’s all barely even getting started din! i’m sorry)

 yodito’s look in this scene tho... he’s like ‘we’ve Seen some shit lady’ (actually I think he’s staring at ‘dr mandible’ like O___o. it’s been a long day for a lil boy) 

you get to see dr mandible’s cards a few times, so I assume anyone who knows the rules of... sabacc? probably? could figure out beforehand that he was in a bad spot. (the star wars fanbase is one of those where I KNOW the rules exist somewhere, and I know people who know those rules exist too)  

- that sound the baby keeps making -- the ‘boo-a’, sometimes with a p-sound at the end -- if that’s the precursor to him saying any variation whatsoever of ‘dad’ or ‘papa’ or ‘baba’ or even ‘buir’ or anything, I will die. I will sink to the ground in a heap and never get up (the way he keeps seeking out gaze contact with the helmet and seems perfectly satisfied with it too... fasdhfaskdjhl my FEELINGS)

- it seems confirmed in this ep that the mandos who died on nevarro did so while holding off the enemy so the rest(probably especially the children) could get away; some of them appear to have escaped. which I guess is a small relief

- 

frog lady stepping out of the shadows and into our hearts

I like that her firm nod after Peli translates ‘her husband has seen them’ lets us know she understands... basic? is that the common tongue thing in star wars there’s just so many to remember across fandoms lol? perfectly well, even if she can’t speak it. 

- mando might be running low on ammo for the pulse rifle, if the fact that he hasn’t replaced the missing cartridge on his... bandolier belt thingy is any indication

ETA: actually ignore me this has been a thing since the literal first episode of the show my brain just had a hiccup lol

- so baby seems to use a little bit of the force to pull the eggs towards him -- I wonder how often he ‘taps into it’ or if it’s always ‘on’ in the background for him. if so I guess there’s no wonder he’s so hungry (but also... kid you can’t end this lady’s entire family line like that one cat who singlehandedly made extinct a whole species of bird! D:)

- din so rarely gets openly angry, he just gets passive aggressive and grumpy. and that’s probably not the healthiest way to deal with things but I love him

- frog lady reacts so strongly to when din sends the ping when nothing else woke her up, I wonder if she can hear more frequencies than a human

- 

hello darkness my old frieeennnddd

- 

proof nr 1508 that din does not starve this baby you guys, he even has his own little tray just the right size for him! as it happens the baby simply seems to prefer eating things that are... still alive in some capacity. which, uh. maybe they can invest in some form of non-sentient crickets or something for him to hunt down and.... oh dear

- 

Look how they massacred my boy

By the way I finally managed to put into words why the Razor Crest -- and particularly the way it keeps getting beaten to hell and back and patched up again --  is so symbolically important and meaningful to me in this show in this post over here! it’s always a great relief to me when I can finally understand what the hell I’ve been going on about all this time and this was one of those lol

-  honestly if it weren’t for frog lady and (more importantly) the baby I think there’s a slight chance din would’ve gone ‘well I had a good-ish run of it for a while there’ and just let the ice claim him haha   

- “Why don’t you come over here and give me a hand. Make yourself useful” This is the one time in the episode I think he crosses the line into just being a dick for a moment (but noticeably the baby isn’t just a little hurt at this reaction, he’s clearly surprised and confused, which means this really does not happen often. after the time mando’s been having recently I guess a moment’s snappishness is understandable haha. he does follow up right after with being much more responsive and attentive when the baby toddles away from him, so it feels like it’s going to be okay)

also the ‘boo-ap’ sound is there again when he’s trying to get din’s attention. just sayin’ 

when din comes over to see the footprints baby makes a declarative little meep like ‘see??? I did tell you!’ haha

- it is very funny that mando is using all his technology meant to track down dangerous bounties in the grungy depths of the criminal underworld... to find a naked lady just chillin’ in a hot spring 

- 

cue the ‘father is evil?’ memes fsadfda. actually the funniest thing about this moment (apart from the fabulous finger acting) is that din actually snatches a few eggs out of the baby’s reach more subtly right before, and that baby only whines for ALL OF ONE SECOND before he goes to sniff around for other food possibilities fkadfhjkds. from my experience with human children he’s a lot less prone to tantrums. yodito doesn’t get mad, he gets even 

- baby running towards din through the hatching spiderlings like ‘DAD I FUCKED UUUUUUP’, din’s little strangled ‘ngh’ sound as he picks the baby up and watches all the creepy crawlies come out... *chef kiss* impeccable 

(that little ‘ngh’ and the soft shocked ‘ah ah AH!’s from when he goes flying at the beginning of the episode... pedro pascal and his voice work for this character gives me so much life. in some ways din has this sort of dignity and grace and in other ways he uh extremely doesn’t. he gets to be cool but also vulnerable in ways a lot of male main characters don’t and it’s probably why I love him so much) 

btw here is that moment when din moves to hold the baby tightly against him with both hands as the big spider appears, because it gets me right in the heart... it such an instinctive thing of holding on to the dearest thing you’ve got before something bad is about to happen

fdsafhsdakjlfhsdkjlhfsdajhf oh my god the baby is clutching din’s finger with his little hand during the chase!!!! 😭😭😭

this FUCKING SHOW has just WEAPONIZED putting in small details everywhere to convey the love and tenderness and attachment felt by a little muppet doll even where only weirdos like me will frame by frame their way through the video to see it I am so MAD

- frog lady going ‘fuck this’ and bounding along is  e v e r y t h i n g 

- din is an amazing shot, though, he doesn’t seem to miss a single one in this whole scene (then again there’s something to shoot at basically everywhere one can take aim so lol)

-

baby hiding behind/half hugging din’s boot as he tries to get the doors closed hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I can’t breathhhhheeeee 

honestly every single one of the baby’s proximity seeking behaviours in this ep has me on my knees 

- it’s very unfair to play the heroic happy mando music like everything is going to be fine and then have a huge fuck-off spider drop down from the ceiling and break it off mid-tune, the mandalorian, you have trained me in certain ways and now do you betray me??? how can I trust again

- the camera work in the scene with the new republic guys gives such a good sense of the discomfort of being judged from on high by someone or something you can’t really see -- the glare of the lights blocking out everything in the shots from din’s pov makes it feel like a tense interrogation (the new republic dude who is actually dave filoni has such a look of fondness as he watches din tho it’s kind of sweet)

- ...oh no I think baby was actually considering munching on that dismembered spider leg YODITO NO JUST EAT YOUR KRAYT DRAGON BABY

- hngh this is a weird filler episode and it has my entire heart. I suspect we might get some episodes of a more stationary baby between active ones like this -- you can tell a little bit in this episode that especially having him running around fast is quite difficult to have look natural, they likely save that effort up for when it best serves the narrative  

[katzkinder]

Fool’s Gold, Ch 1

Prologue

I should mention that the version up on ao3 has extra content not included in the tumblr updates. The version available on Tumblr is just the story featuring Greed pair, while the ao3 version has some extra bits and bobs. They don’t particularly impact the story, but they do add another layer, and if you like Gear and Youtarou, you might enjoy it! Thank you for being patient with my sporadic schedule ^^

[All That Glitters Is Not]

The first thing Licht noticed upon regaining consciousness was that his head felt like someone had tried to split it open like a melon. The second was that, wherever he was, it was cooler than the weather permitted, and the scratchy sheets beneath his cheek could sorely use a good wash. He wrinkled his nose, groaning as he sat up and clutched his head. The third…

“Ah, good. You’re awake. Was starting to get worried.”

--Was that he wasn’t alone.

Licht whirled, nearly falling off the small bed he had been placed on in his haste and only succeeding in making his aching head spin. The sound of metal clanging against it itself made him grimace, using the sound’s source to finally locate the… Dungeon’s, he supposed, other occupant.

 A suit of armor?

“Hey now, no need to be hasty. You’ll only hurt yourself like that.” The deep voice he had heard was definitely coming from the armor, which sat, almost casually, even, upon a stool with a little wooden serving cart laden down with a pitcher, food, and dishes to serve it on. If he squinted, he could make out the shape of bread and what might have been a block of aged cheese in the darkness, penetrated only by the light of torches placed at regular intervals around the place.

“P… Piss off…” His throat hurt, voice coming out scratchier than he would have liked. “Who are you, and where am I?”

“First, drink this.” A copper cup was pushed at him through the bars, held securely in the jointed fingers of a gauntlet and presumably filled with water. Licht scoffed at it, not budging.

“Not until you answer me. Who. Are. You,” he repeated, carefully enunciating each word as if the man in front of him were some foreign entity just barely capable of understanding him. If suits of armor could look annoyed, this one certainly did, joints creaking as the whole thing sagged with its occupant.

“Do you want the damn water or not?”

“What I want is answers.”

A soft, harsh mutter that was almost certainly a swear, his captor turning to place the cup back in its place amongst the meal’s various other accoutrements. “Listen. If I promise to answer your questions, will you drink something? I don’t need that brat boss of mine giving me an earful over a stubborn kid…”

Licht bristled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed that was, now that he took a moment to look, little more than a cot pushed into the corner, and standing fast enough that the room spun. Stalking towards his unflinching captor, his lip curled back into a sneer, baleful glare trained on approximately where he thought the man’s eyes would be. Gripping the bars of his prison, he pushed his forehead up against the cool metal, duly noting that where he had expected rust he instead found smooth, well cared for material. That would make things more difficult once he was alone again, but it was nothing he couldn’t overcome, he thought.

“I’m not a kid.”

The helmet tilted, arms folding noisily across the chest plate. “You sure are acting like one.”

“I’m not,” Licht insisted. Adjusting his grip, he shoved his face more insistently at the bars, trying to get a look at the layout of the area beyond his cell. It was fairly large, all things considered, with clean, dry stone that looked like it was well fitted together. Directly across from him was a wall with a torch holder, unlit for the moment, though light sources reflected off the silver armor his captor wore from either side of him. To the left and right of that torch were more cells, equally as bare as his own save for a cot and, if he squinted hard enough, the shape of what might have been more bedding underneath.

  No doubt moth eaten and covered in rat shit.

Still, the relatively clean space was… Surprising, and up close like this, he found he was indeed correct in assuming the shape he had seen to be cheese. Bread, cheese, some cured meats, and…

The words he had meant to speak died on the tip of his tongue, facial expression going slack in his befuddlement. “What’s that?”

“Hm?” The man turned at the waist, following his line of sight to a yellow skinned pear sitting innocuously amongst the other foodstuffs, the bottom of which appeared to be colored pink to red at uneven intervals. “... Have you never seen a pear before?”

Licht bit down a snappish reply, stomach giving a sudden rumble in protest to him doing anything that might deny him food he hadn’t until then realized he was sorely needing. “Give.”

“Excuse me?”

“Give me. The pear.” When all that met him was silence, he tore his gaze away, leveling it back again at the other man and ignoring the feel of eyes judging him. “What? You wanted me to eat and drink something, right? So hand it over.”

Slowly, as if he were still putting together the pieces of some sort of complex puzzle, the man moved, passing items through the bars to Licht’s awaiting hands. “You’re… A very strange man.”

“I’m an angel.” And with that, he bit into the fruit’s unblemished skin with a resounding, satisfying crunch. It was sweet, tart, just the slightest bit gritty, but not at all unpleasant as the juices ran down his chin, Licht closing his eyes to savor the taste. “Sho. Ansher my queshons.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full…” was the muttered reply, and feeling eyes boring steadily into him, Licht cracked an eye open, not seeming the least bit sheepish for the halfhearted scolding. “I think it’s pretty obvious where you are, anyway.”

“Hah?”

Shifting to prop his chin in hand, he continued, waving his free round around with a lazy, lackadaisical motion. “Look around. It’s a dungeon-”

“But where, and why, and who the hell are you?”

“Guildenstern.”

Finally receiving an answer mollified him, somewhat, Licht finally picking up the cup to take a drink and, after giving it a cursory sniff, finding that he quite disliked the metallic taste the copper imbued everything with. Still, it was refreshingly cold against his parched throat, so he couldn’t complain too much, all things considered. “Guildenstern, huh… What’s with the armor?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Least comforting thing you could have said.”

A snort, Guildenstern rising to his feet with a grunt and the creaking of nearly every joint in the whole uncomfortable looking mess, in Licht’s opinion. Yet Guildenstern didn’t seem too bothered by what was undoubtedly a getup that only made his life harder. “Wasn’t supposed to be. Behave yourself. Boss’ll want to know that you’re awake.”

Licht rolled his eyes, stuffing a hunk of bread into his mouth next. “Good. Bring him here so I can kick his ass for making me late for dinner. My parents are going to start worrying if I don’t get home soon. Angels don’t make their parents worry.”

For a moment, Guil paused, and Licht got the distinct, infuriating feeling that he was being pitied by those unseen eyes. “... I’m sorry.”

“You’d better be.” Soon left alone with nothing but a quickly depleting meal and his own thoughts as the loud clanking steadily faded away, Licht eyed the door of his cell, slowly chewing in order to better savor the flavor of the fruit while he thought.

Well, he supposed, there was no use in overthinking it. After all, an angel’s power was absolute and he could overcome anything he set his mind to.

Satisfied with his conclusion, Licht stood, wiped the back of his mouth on his grass and dirt stained sleeve, approached the cell’s door… And kicked with all his might. One way or another, he was going to get out. Guildenstern hadn’t been wrong about it being obvious where he was. He knew without a doubt the where, he had an inkling of the why, but he didn’t particularly want to stick around and confirm his theory. Such a nice meal for a prisoner, when provided by a demon, could only mean one thing. He wasn’t about to be the fattened up main course for any monster, and that getting any info out of the man stationed to guard him had been so difficult only further cemented it in his mind.

“Tch.”

The lock held steady. Once more, then. Once more, once more, as many times as it took…

“Stupid piece of… Just-!” Clang! “Die-!” Clang! “Already-!”

“First you steal my flowers, now you try and break my stuff? After I so graciously provided you with food, too. Maaan…”

Licht growled, the new irritating voice prompting him to put even more power into the swing of his leg than he had been. Although the whole door rattled in its frame… It did not give way. He swore, stepping back as a looming shadow approached.

Glittering golden scales and wickedly curved horns, razor sharp fangs and eyes that burned like hellfire, all wrapped up in cloth as dark and decadent as the pitch of night…

“You sure are a firecracker who just doesn't know when to quit, aren't ya~? Guil says you think you’re an angel. Ha! That’s a riot! So tell me, lil angel…” The dragon leered at him, curling one clawed hand around the bars of his prison while Licht glared back, baring his teeth at the monster before him. “What kind of punishment is suitable for thieves~?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

A startled laugh, smoke curling out from behind unsettlingly human lips. “Ohh, I am gonna have fun~ With~ You~”

A demon, through and through.

[curedeity]

The City Kids

Summary: Akiza doesn't know why she agreed to babysit the twins, it had been a long while she'd had to interact with a child for more than a few minutes. Really, couldn't anyone else have done this? Oh well, since she was here, she'd have to make the most of it.

    Large empty houses, complete with white walls and pristine floors cleaned by a collection of staff, were nothing new to Akiza. Her mother had worked part-time, and her father had been a mayor, so their house had always been lavish and vacant except for Akiza. Sometimes, Akiza wondered that if she had gotten a different deck, or been a bit more lost in the past on the day she had chosen her moniker, would she have been known as the Rose Ghost?

    It was a particularly stupid thought, but sometimes stupid thoughts were at least entertaining, and that included when it was sitting around a table with Leo and Luna and coming up with new monikers for all three of them.

    Out of perhaps all the Signers, the twins were the people Akiza held the least ill-will against. She still couldn’t help but be a bit peeved at Yusei for his initial win against her, and Jack and Crow were… loud. Despite Akiza’s unilaterally positive feelings towards the twins, she had still panicked for over an hour when she had been asked to babysit them for the day.

    Beyond the fact that Akiza had no skills with young children, these two children happened to be ones that she had been responsible for traumatizing. Perhaps not directly, but she had been a part of Arcadia, and she had been there for Leo’s duel against Sawyer. She wouldn’t blame either of them for being at least a little wary of her, if not outright hostile.

    To her surprise, when she had entered their apartment, Leo had immediately demanded a duel with her, and Luna had peppered her with shy questions about her powers.

    Akiza… wasn’t very comfortable with dueling a ten year-old when she was only now truly learning to control her powers, but Leo didn’t seem too put off by her refusal, instead he had started showing her his deck and babbling on.

    Somehow, that situation had ended with them sitting at the table and coming up with stage names for each of them. Leo insisted on calling them superhero names, which Luna had commented was just the influence of too many cartoons. Now, that had started an argument.

    “Superheroes are super cool and you just don’t like them because you don’t have taste!”  Leo waved his hands around, nearly smacking his sister’s face by accident, though she leaned back just in time. “They come in and--- and they save the day like woosh and talk about how you’re supposed to do the right thing!”

    “But spies actually have brains? Yknow, like, braincells? I know you lost yours in the supermarket, but they actually do help with problem-solving.” Akiza had not known until today how sarcastic Luna could be, and she could honestly say that if she wasn’t panicking at how to stop the argument, she would’ve been impressed. “Superheroes can talk about doing the right thing, but ultimately they just punch people and propagate a cycle of violence.”

    “They do not! They’re trying to stop these people from committing murder! And most of them don’t commit murder themselves, it’s all about showing how you don’t need to be mean to stop people from being mean!” Leo cried out.

    “Those lessons may hold in stories, but in real life murder seems like a very viable option. I would’ve loved to stab that ape king that nearly killed me in the spirit world,” Luna countered.

    Akiza should’ve never agreed to babysit. If Akiza was a ghost, at least then she wouldn’t be subject to whatever punishment she was met with for letting the children get this rowdy.

    Well, here goes nothing.

    Akiza cleared her throat, catching the attention of neither child. They continued her argument, blissfully unaware of her imploding existence. “Murder isn’t a good answer to your problems, Luna.” She finally got out.

    Luna turned to meet Akiza’s eyes, embarrassment flooding her countenance. Unlike her snappish, sarcastic tone with her brother, Luna was much shy in her speech to Akiza. “Sorry, I know that.”

    “I mean, property damage is a much better way to make someone leave you alone and fear you,” Akiza added, because from her slight memories of interacting with children, she knew you weren’t just supposed to chastise them, but rather direct them towards better behaviors. Positive reinforcement.

    Luna blinked at her, clearly mulling over Akiza’s advice, while Leo had also fallen silent as he considered Akiza’s point. “But if we committed property damage, wouldn’t that security guy who chased Yusei everywhere come after us?” Leo pointed out.

    ...who? Was Leo referring to Officer Trudge? Perhaps this was something Akiza had missed while she had remained in Arcadia.

    Nevertheless, Leo’s point about the police was a good one, however… “It depends on where the property damage is, I suppose. If we’re talking about the spirit world, I doubt they have a police force that would chase you there.” Akiza responded, and they both turned to Luna to confirm that point.

    “I don’t remember there being any police in the spirit world, it’s more community governed, and I doubt any of the spirits would mind,” Luna shrugged.

    “Then yes, property damage seems like a perfectly reasonable way to solve that hypothetical problem,” Akiza nodded, and both children looked at her with wide, adoring eyes.

    It was terrifying.

    “...You wanna watch cartoons now?” Leo offered.

    Luna scoffed at her brother’s offer before Akiza could even respond. “Akiza’s an adult, she obviously doesn’t want to watch your superhero cartoons, we should watch my spy ones instead!” 

    The two continued arguing while Akiza went and cooked some popcorn, the sound of kernels exploding masking their sounds. Her advice hadn’t stopped them from arguing for long, so now she was on to plan b, which was giving them food so they had no room in their mouths for sly comments.

    And with her in control of the remote and ordering that they take turns, the rest of the day was a bit less eventful overall.

    It wouldn’t be until months later that Luna asked Akiza for the best way to burn down a castle.