#they’re still holding on to this twelve year old version of me that never did any work in class and I was messy and forgetful

[tristinian]

Literally soooooo fun when your parents treat you like you’re stupid. Like even if I wasn’t the smartest I wouldn’t deserved to be treated like shit but also???? I’m actually decently smart?? I’ve gotten an academic scholarship and I’m either gonna get dux or proxime accessit.. Why have I suffered a lifetime of “don’t bother, you’re not smart enough” when time and time again I have been. When will they see I’m smart enough

[zmediaoutlet]

ww: letters (5)

for the @wincestwednesdays prompt: withdrawal

I spent two hours at a coffee shop talking to a woman. Complete accident. I asked to read her paper if she was done with it and she wondered if I had a phone charger she could borrow. She was eating a chocolate muffin and said she was an addict and smiled in that way people do when they know the joke is lame but they’re also not really joking. She said then that she was going to a meeting in the church across the park but she didn’t like that it was in a church. The whole higher power thing isn’t for her. I asked if the steps really helped or if it was just the talking and she said mostly it was the really shitty coffee that kept her coming back. She was cute. She missed her meeting and gave me her number. You’d be proud.

I actually looked at the steps, once. Higher power, fearless moral inventory, making amends. Turns out I was hitting them all pretty spot-on, for a few years there. But there was this thing that they insisted on, with the language—that you’re never recovered, you’re always in recovery; that you always are, and never were. Maybe that fits with the sort of stuff people go to meetings for. They never exactly formed a group for what I had. I mean, can you imagine. Hi, I’m Sam Winchester, and I—

Not a drop in fifteen years, nor a craving for one. That’s not denial. It really did carve out of me clean. Like someone cored a hole right through the middle and cauterized it and the skin grew over without a scar. Even versions of me that only wanted power or answers or to fix everything with a snap of my fingers—going back to that really never was an option. No meetings necessary.

I left the coffee shop and sat in the park. Sunset and then dusk. Cold still but spring’s starting to creep through. The sky to the east a thin deep blue. I watched it get dark and got that old second wind. Still half-expecting to get a call and start running. Still, despite everything, despite this whole year, expecting that I’ll hear that monster engine turn the corner and I’ll hear the horn and I’ll turn and even if I can’t see through the window in the dark I’ll get up and I’ll get in the passenger seat and we’ll go—to a graveyard, to a bar, to a drive-in playing a shitty zombie double feature, to a motel on the outskirts of town with ugly wallpaper and a shower in contention for worst in the country and there’ll be two beds because despite everything there were always two beds, whether we were fighting or whether we were good, and there’ll be the TV on the news muted and there’ll be a twelve-pack on the table and the heater rattling under the window and the smell like smoke, grease, and the warm salt there at the back of your neck where you’d tip your head forward when I came up behind you and you let me—when you let me get away with a lot. You let me get away with a lot.

The keys are in my pocket. I’ve balled my hands into a knot between my knees and my heart’s pounding sick and high in my throat. Across the park the church has people pouring out a side-door. Holding styrofoam coffee cups, cigarettes little orange flares in the dark. I tip my face up at the dark sky and feel my cold lips and nose and ears and let the adrenaline drain through my skin, dropping to the bare dirt below.

There’s no admission to a higher power. No moral inventory to account for and no amends to make because there’s nothing I’d apologize for, now, and nothing I’d change. I will practice this principle in all my affairs.

It’s never going to be were. We are. And, Dean—

[owletstarlet]

the grand deeds of great men, the smallest of gestures

"My hero."

An (extremely late) request of sorts from @taizi for some solid nishi content, involving Tanuma putting those childhood karate lessons to good use. Established tanunatsu.

Ao3 link in the notes. 

“Your boyfriend,” Satoru announces without preamble, dragging Tanuma by their joined hands through the hotel room door, “is a badass.”

Natsume looks up sharply from where he and Atsushi are huddled over a pile of rumpled travel pamphlets on the bed. But it’s Taki who’s on her feet first, closing the distance to the door with a pinched look and taking the shopping bag out of Tanuma’s hand.

Satoru’s grinning. Tanuma is very much not.

But they’re both shaking.

Satoru doesn’t let go of Tanuma’s hand until Natsume’s there to take it. Atsushi’s there to grab Satoru by the shoulders, and the five of them shuffle back as one towards the beds.

Natsume doesn’t press for the explanation until they’re all seated, he and Taki pressed up against either side of Tanuma, their knees bumping up against Atsushi’s and Satoru’s in the narrow space between the two beds. The muttered question is probably more directed at Satoru than at Tanuma, because Tanuma’s gray-faced in the lamplight, gaze a little too wide, breaths coming a little too fast. Both Natsume’s hands are wrapped around Tanuma’s slack one, and on his other side Taki’s hands are gentle where they rub his back, but her keen eyes keep darting over to Satoru, expression tight with all the same concern. Satoru, for his part, is practically vibrating where he sits tucked against Atsushi’s side, from nerves or exhilaration or both, Atsushi can’t quite tell.

“He flipped a guy!” Satoru declares, with a wide one-handed swoop of a gesture at Tanuma, sounding positively giddy about it.

Well. Whatever Atsushi was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that.

“What,” Natsume says, blankly, at the same time that Taki says, “…wait.”

And then they’re all looking at Tanuma. Who very much looks like he’d rather not be looked at.

“It was the actual best thing I have ever seen,” Satoru says, nudging Tanuma’s knee with his own, and there’s something fierce and warm in his eyes. “And he thinks he’s gonna go to jail or something for it, which he’s not, because the guy deserved it, so that would be dumb.”

“What happened?” Atsushi blurts, now well and truly alarmed.

And he tells them.

They’re in Osaka for a long weekend, because Natori had invited them all along for some premiere of a new period piece that Satoru had been gushing about for months. Natsume’s not exactly ecstatic about attending the event itself, but he’s clearly happy that Satoru’s happy—Atsushi gathers that that’s whole point of this—and even if Natori himself is all booked up with press events for the majority of the weekend, it’s a chance for them all to explore the unfamiliar city together.

Not thirty minutes ago, Satoru and Tanuma had volunteered to make a combini run for snacks, only about two blocks from the hotel. But once they’d finished and were through the door, bags in hand, Tanuma had realized he’d forgotten to get the ice cream Taki had asked for. He’d gone back in to get it, while Satoru stayed out front to sip at the cocoa he’d bought. They hadn’t really paid any mind to the group milling about out front. Salarymen, by the looks of them, three or four younger guys in tidy suits with raucous voices and beers in hand. Satoru had been making his way to the bench near the entrance to wait, not quite looking where he was going, and he’d bumped into one of them, causing some of his beer to slosh over the lip of the can and onto the guy’s blazer sleeve. From his place in line Tanuma had heard it, the sharp “Oy!” and the rumbles of displeasure from man’s friends. Tanuma’s not sure what became of the ice cream he’d been holding—maybe he dropped it, maybe he shoved it into the hands of the customer beside him—but the next thing he knew he was out the door, wedging himself firmly between Satoru and the man who now had him by the arm.

“And then he just…bam!” Satoru mimes the motion, as though he’s grabbing something heavy with both hands from behind, and twisting it downwards in front of him. “Like. Grabbed him. And just. Flipped him! Guy went down beer and all, and he looked super confused about being on the ground all of a sudden. And it was amazing, and I had no idea he took karate before.”

And with that, three sets of startled eyes all land squarely on Tanuma. Natsume taps his knee, like he’s trying to break him away from whatever’s got its grip on him behind his own glassy gaze.

“Karate?” Taki looks, at first, gobsmacked by this piece of information. But it morphs into something like slow-breaking delight across her features.

Tanuma’s nod is a single, tight bob of the head. “Just, um.” It’s the first time he’s spoken since walking through the door, and his voice is a ghost of a thing, like it might get swallowed up by the stale air of the room. “Until I was twelve. On and off. I don’t remember much.”

“You remembered plenty,” Satoru tells him, tone banking no argument, before clasping his hands together dramatically. “My hero.” His grin is so wide and irresistibly cheesy that Tanuma looks up, just for a moment, with the barest twitch of his lips before his gaze drops back down towards the stretch of flowery pink carpet beneath their toes. Natsume shoots Satoru a grateful look, even as Atsushi finds himself doing the same to Tanuma. Somewhere, during the course of the story, he’d found himself squashed up impossibly close against Satoru, arm tucked firmly around his shoulders. He seems genuinely excited, not distressed, but against Atsushi’s side he still feels wound up tight as a coiled spring. It’s definitely not lost on Natsume, either, judging by the glance he gives Atsushi. Atsushi nudges Natsume’s foot—he’s okay, I got him—and Natsume nods, once, though his gaze lingers a moment longer on Satoru’s flushed, still-beaming face.

“So you’re afraid someone saw?” Atsushi asks, while Taki fishes out a tea bottle from the shopping bag, uncaps it and presses it into Tanuma’s hand.

Tanuma doesn’t answer, but that touch of a grin from before has twisted itself into something distinctly nauseated.

“If anyone did see, they’d know the dude was fine.” Satoru shrugs. “Also that he deserved it, remember. We ran, anyways.”

Natsume blinks. “You ran here?”

And Atsushi can’t help but see the comedy in that being what Natsume seizes on, considering the truly impressive amount of times Atsushi’s seen him tearing through town apropos of nothing like he’s got a swarm of invisible hornets on his tail.

“Yup,” Satoru says, brightly, tapping Tanuma’s knee. “Felt like an action movie.” A pause, before he tacks on, not unkindly, “Y’know, if you’re not gonna drink that tea, then I will.”

Tanuma blinks down at the tea bottle, which had tilted enough in his hand to nearly spill onto the scratchy comforter as though forgotten about. He manages a couple measured sips before letting Taki take it back and cap it.

Natsume squeezes Tanuma’s fingers in his own, looking unsettled. Taki looks thoughtful, idly tapping the bottle in her hands.

“Were you thinking they had a security camera out front or something?” she asks.

Tanuma says nothing.

Taki leans into his side. “You know, even if anyone watched the footage, it’s like Nishimura said. All they’d see is that man getting exactly what was coming to him,” she says, fervently.

“And you being cool as hell,” Satoru adds. “Seriously, they teach twelve-year-olds how to do that?”

The way his shoulders loosen, just a fraction, feels like a win. “I don’t…actually know?” he starts, squinting like he’s trying to recall. “I was in this class for high-schoolers at the time, because there were nothing else available in the town I lived in.” A shrug, a sheepish glance up and away. “Usually I was just partnered up with my teacher.”

“That actually sounds kind of brutal, though,” Atsushi says, curious now. “Did the teacher demonstrate take-downs and stuff on you?”

“She did, but. Really slowly,” Tanuma replies, and it’s as though the warmth of Natsume’s and Taki’s shoulders pressed up against his has started, though incrementally, to seep into his voice, his eyes. “And I never really got the hang of doing any of it back to her. I’m surprised that worked, earlier.”

Precisely none of this explanation seems to have made Satoru look any less starstruck. Atsushi has to hold back his snort. “You should totally pick it up again,” Satoru’s saying now, around a mouth full of the lemon ice pop Natsume had fished out of the shopping bag for him. “What color belt did you get up to?”

“Um.”

Just that half-second’s hesitation is long enough to put a loaded look into Natsume’s eyes, for him to slot their fingers together properly and squeeze.

Tanuma lets out a breath, and there’s something years-old and lonely clinging to the edges of his smile. Atsushi doubts he’s aware of it. “None.” He shrugs. “I didn’t pass the one exam I took. I got pneumonia that year and had to quit after that, so.”

He looks faintly embarrassed, now, and Satoru opens his mouth as though ready to nip that right in the bud, but Taki beats him to it.

“Tanuma,” she says, solemnly, turning around to face him. “You have got to teach me how you did that.”

***

By the time the polite-yet-firm call arrives from the front desk, indicating a noise complaint from their neighbors in the next room and forcing them all to call it a night, things are better.

By then, Tanuma had been goaded into demonstrating some unwieldy modified version the maneuver behind his earlier takedown, executed on a poor unsuspecting hotel pillow because the entire room had immediately nixed Satoru’s offer to be the human test dummy.

Now, Satoru and Taki are a boneless, lightly snoring tangle of limbs on the far bed, one of Satoru’s arms thrown over Natsume’s whale shark plushie. (A surprise gift from all of them, Taki’s idea, after they’d caught him eyeing it more than once in the aquarium gift shop yesterday. If he’d walked out of the aquarium clutching it to his chest just like he might’ve done with his fat cat, currently hundreds of kilometers away, none of them said a word about it.)

Natsume himself is dozing in the other bed, but he lies facing Satoru—and Satoru’s fine, he’s unharmed and happy and completely safe, he is. But for some reason the longer the night’s worn on, Atsushi’s had to remind himself of these facts more, not less. He knows the dark cast to Satoru’s slack wrist is the lamplight-shadow of his sweatshirt sleeve, knows because he checked.

Still.

Tanuma’s in the bath, now. And he seems, well. Better than he was, certainly. But Atsushi had seen the taut-lipped glances he’d stolen at Satoru, and he looks about the same way Atsushi feels. At least the unwelcome scenarios and possibilities unspooling in his own mind have got to be more vague than whatever Tanuma’s imagination was serving up. Tanuma had seen it. Had stopped it.

Let Satoru wave it off, insist ‘til he’s blue in the face that it was fine, all fine, that he hadn’t been in any real danger. If it would put his friends at ease, he’d have said the same with a smile on his face even if he’d just been robbed at knifepoint.

Atsushi really needs to stop thinking about this.

He’d heard Natsume earlier, voice whisper-gentle through the bathroom door after he’d led Tanuma in by the hand behind him. Satoru and Taki had drifted off by then. Atsushi couldn’t make out the words, and heard nothing at all from Tanuma, aside from a few isolated, stuttering breaths. Tanuma had re-emerged dazed, red-eyed, but calmer than Atsushi had seen him all evening.

When the door opens now, Tanuma steps out in a halo of steam, wet-haired and barefoot in an old t-shirt. Atsushi’s on his feet and halfway across the room before he’s even really aware of it, the change of clothes for his own bath forgotten at the foot of the bed.

Tanuma goes still, when Atsushi pulls him close. Atsushi almost lets go, but then he feels the tentative hands come up to rest on his back.

“Thank you,” Atsushi mutters into his shoulder.

“I—“

“No. Listen.” Atsushi pulls back, hands shifting to rest on his upper arms. And god but Tanuma looks exhausted. “You kept him safe,” Atsushi says. “And don’t try to tell me you didn’t, because you did. Thank you.”

Tanuma opens his mouth, closes it again, swallows. He says nothing for a long moment, but he doesn’t look away. Finally, “…sorry for freaking out.” He smiles as he says it, but his voice snags on the words. He swallows again.

“Hey.” Atsushi waits until Tanuma’s now-dropped gaze returns to him. “You don’t ever have to be sorry for that, okay? Not with us.”

A sound like an inhale, somehow sharp and shaky all at once, and then it’s Tanuma that’s pulling them together again. A steadying breath, in-out-in that ruffles Atsushi’s hair. Stillness.

“Okay,” he whispers.

***

If he does go to jail, it's Natori who'll have to bail him out :)

Sensei didn't come along because I like to think Hiiragi, Sasago and Urihime have been taking turns watching over Natsume, which is more than sufficient, except for when it's *not* Natsume himself who's getting into trouble--

Fun fact, according to the most current iteration of canon, Tanuma's taken judo in the past as well as karate, but the bulk of this was written before that chapter came out.

All credit to taizi for the nice hug idea--

[im-totally-not-an-alien]

Final Fantasy 7 prompts #75 (FINAL LIST)

1. Iflana does not trust Cloud, not one bit. She can sense the calamity inside him and wants him to leave. Too bad both her husband and daughter seem enraptured by his very existence. Her husband rambling on about his mutated and 'safer' J-cells, as if that thing could ever be considered safe. Then it was her daughter, who seemed to take him in, as though he was no more than an injured bird needing treatment.

This thing would be the death of them. She just knew it.

2. "In my world its pretty rare for monsters to talk."

The large gray rabbit riding on his head paused to consider this, "Maybe they're just stupid?"

"Duh. They're basically wild animals. They're not really like you Loppy."

"Lopmon." The bunny creature corrected. Again.

Aka Cloud wakes up in the digital world as a twelve year old and has to find his friends...with the help of his partner digimon of course.

3. Genesis used to think mermaids were one of the most beautiful creatures in Ancient lore...until he saw a blond one swallow a fish whole. He wasn't so sure after that.

4. Au where Cloud and the remnants are escaped expiraments from a non-Shinra lab. They travel to Midgar and become mercenaries.

One of them winds up being captured, prompting the other three to rescue them, but they're otherwise preoccupied by normal human things they never got to experience. Loz loves donuts and other sweets, Yazoo adores taking long hot bathes, and Kadaj always seems to have headphones on, etc.

The holy trinity are shocked when the four don't recognize Sephiroth. Genesis also nearly has a heart attack when he catches them roasting a doomrat over an open flame. "You're not actually going to eat that, are you?"

5. Hojos alarm was triggered at three in the morning. Usually this wouldn't be an issue, creatures attempted to escape Shinras (and by extention his) clutches on a regular basis. They were usually recaptured or destroyed within the hour.

What was strange was the fact that this was Jenovas alarm. His goddess tended to not move much beyond bobbing up and down in her tank.

Upon checking the security feed, he witnessed something infuriating. A blond man was holding an armful of wildflowers and bossing around three silver haired teens as they dismantled her shrine and stole her away. Jenova herself seemed...interested? Approving? He wasn't sure, but it looked like she was cooing at them. Further analysis was required.

6. Time travel au, but the whole thing is from Hojos perspective and he suffers

7. Cloud and Reeve were having a discussion about Clouds Jenova abilities and why he never used them, which eventually lead Cloud to picking up a pebble and stating, "Its not like a can just force some of my life energy into a rock and make it a planet"

And then he did. Tfw

8. High fantasy, no materia au.

Magic is rarely seen in humans, rather a tool used by monsters. On the day Clouds mother is murdered his abilities awaken, creating a powerful snowstorm that ripped the town of Nebilhiem apart.

Ten years later and the storm rages on, having grown to cover nearly the entirety of the mountain, rendering communication with nearby kingdoms difficult and travel impossible.

The famed General Rhapsodous is sent to slay whatever great beast is causing this catastrophe. When he is faced with a young man living up there in complete isolation, he chooses to stay with the mysterious man until he can locate the monster.

What will become of Cloud once Genesis discovers the truth? After all, a witch is considered a form of monster.

9. "I should have just remained a puppet!"

Genesis mulled over the words as though they alone could unravel the mystery that is Strife.

Some part of the redhead felt a little bad about using the strange man's emotional outburst against him, but things were getting desperate...

10. Time traveler au where Genesis dresses in drag to save this "Tifa" girl from the Don. He then tries to get her to go to Shinra for questioning and is punched for his efforts

11. Cloud is thrown into a world where he never existed and Shinra still reigns supreme. Worse, he has no memory of who he is or how he got there (cause Jenova destroyed them). He only has his bike and his sword and begins traveling to find a purpose, all while avoiding Shinras detection.

He often stops at inns and rest stops and often sees the same group of people. The large man with a gun arm grew suspicious from seeing him everywhere they went.

___________________________

"Go away."

The knocking came again. "I know you're in there blondie." A gruff voice replied.

"I'm not gay."

The man on the other side of the door began sputtering. "Look," another voice began, "We just need to talk."

"Yeah. Sure. Talk." He said flatly. "In the middle of the night." He went over to the door anyway. Opening it revealed the man with a gun arm and another man with wild black hair.

"Zack?" The blond blurted, startled. What was one of Shinras Supreme doing out here?!

"You remember me!" The man beamed, "SOLDIER First Class Zack Fair, at your service! Now the real question!"

The man leaned down a bit to the mysterious blonds level, "Who are you?"

12. "Can you do it?" The softness of Denzels voice seemed to make the situation all the more horrifying. "Can you kill me?" Eerie mako green eyes stared up at where Cloud stood frozen.

Denzel pulled a knife from the block, "Or will your son kill you?"

Aka Seph plays mind games by possessing the kids from Advent Children and using them to torment Cloud and make him look like a lunatic

13. Cloud gets sent back in time/ alternate reality, ect. but gets turned into a white materia. He's careful not to roll around while people are looking, but that doesn't stop people from saying, "Hey, look! A materia! " and picking him up. He has no real power...other than apparently soothing anyone/anything he comes into contact with.

Strangely, he keeps getting slotted into bracers (among other things) regularly. Ya'll, he's so annoyed.

14. There were two of him. Two Sephiroths. The blond began regulating his breathing, desperately trying to ward off an ensuing panic attack. He wouldn't stand a chance if they decided to work together.

Luckily, one insulted the other and thus a catfight of epic proportions began, all while Cloud had a panic attack in some long forgotten closet.

15. Au where child Sephiroth overhears a scientist talking about her 'prayers being answered' and he asks her what that meant. After a brief explanation, he later prays to anyone who can hear him to get him out of the labs and/or away from Hojo.

It works.

Bonus: Cloud and Sephiroth were fighting again in the Midgar desert when Sephiroth slashed the air, creating a portal. He had intended to use it to appear behind his puppet and impale him again, but the blond rushed forward and slashed through the portal with his own sword, expecting the portal to disappear as he sailed through were it once was.

Unfortunately, it was still very much there. Just...different. Cloud wasn't given the chance to properly examine it before the feeling of being plunged into ice water overwhelmed him and he was spat out on the other side.

It was another desert, but not like the one he left. He could feel no life here. No plants, no animals, no...no lifestream. The only thing around is another version of him. One that was used and abandoned by the Sephiroth of this world.

The other blond stared at him in confusion, wielding twin sabers in a defensive position.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

soulmate au?????

Soulmate Au where things that people love/hate appear tattooed on their soulmate’s body. If they love it it’ll be on their front, and if they hate it it’ll appear on their back. The more important it is the closer it is to the heart. They can also move around/disappear over time.

Tim Drake is two years old when he receives his first soulmarks. There are two: the names Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain are found in elegant script over his heart.

He was alone when he’d found it, attempting to learn how to button up his shirt, and they’d sprung from his skin. He didn’t bother crying. He’d long since lost hope that someone would come for him if he did.

Instead, he’d waited for a maid to come into the room on her rounds and called her over.

The woman had smiled kindly as she explained soulmarks. How they were actually a good thing. How they meant that he was going to fall in love one day and one day he could get married! Like his mommy and daddy!

He’d seen how his mom and dad were sometimes. He wasn’t all that impressed.

Tim decided that the whole ‘soulmate’ thing could wait. He had a shirt to learn how to button.

~

On the other side of the world, however, Marinette Dupain Cheng is born without any tattoos on her body. Her parents don’t think much of it. She was just older than her soulmate, then. Or maybe she didn’t have one. That was fine.

But then, three years later, a computer appeared over her heart.

Marinette didn’t even notice until she was pulling off her shirt for a bath.

She hadn’t been shocked or scared like Tim had been, instead she’d beamed and waddled over to her mother with the widest grin on her face.

“Maman! Maman! Look! I have a soulmark!”

Sabine had smiled and turned to look but, much to Marinette’s confusion, it quickly morphed into an anxious expression.

Then her mother brought the smile back and she figured it must have been her imagination. The woman had reached out to ruffle her hair.

Marinette had finished getting ready and gotten in the bath, and her mother looked her over for a soulmark as she cleaned her. But there wasn’t one. There wasn’t one on her back and, outside of the one that had just formed, there wasn’t one on her front.

Then what was going on? Even abused kids tended to have their parent’s names somewhere on their bodies. But there was nothing.

The next guess was that her soulmate’s parents were dead. Usually, orphans had their housemates’ names on them, so the kid would have to be on the streets. Could a street kid really get enough access to a computer that it appears over their heart?

Sabine finished toweling off her daughter and pressed a kiss to her head after pulling her shirt on.

“Want to watch Pere bake some?”

The little girl’s eyes lit up and she nodded.

~

Whoever Tim’s soulmate was, they were really good at making friends. His chest was littered with names by the end of their first year of school.

And then there was one name on his back, right over his heart: Chloe Bourgeois. He frowned when he saw it.

For the first time since his first soulmark had appeared, he found himself curious about what was going on.

He pulled out his computer and looked up the name, not expecting to find much.

But, it turned out he did. After running an article through google translate (which didn’t work great) he managed to gather that she was the daughter of the mayor of Paris.

So... his soulmate was French.

(Unless they just had a vendetta against a random 3-year-old. Unlikely, though.)

He pulled up a new tab. It never hurt to learn a new language.

~

Their likes and dislikes slowly cropped up on their bodies as time went on.

Tim had smiled despite himself when he saw the pictures cropping up. A whisk was found on his shoulder, and then a video game console popped up on his stomach, and then a sewing needle and buttons could be seen under their parent’s names. On his back, he could find what appeared to be homework and broccoli. Whoever his soulmate was, their life seemed quaint and pleasant.

Marinette had been happy to see all the little things popping up over herself as well. A circus tent on the sole of her foot, a skateboard on her neck, a camera by the computer. On her back, she could see what looked like playing cards. She thought all their hobbies sounded cute (if a bit random). She was just concerned about the distinct lack of names on her body; she hoped that they were at least getting enough social interaction.

~

When she was twelve, it finally happened: a name appeared!

She stared at the script that had displaced the computer and her eyebrows knit together.

Batman.

Maybe a pet’s name? Human names tended to give a first and last name, so...

She typed it into her phone to try and translate it to French and her eyes widened when it actually gave information on someone in this place called Gotham.

A vigilante?

She laid back in her bed and frowned to herself.

In order for a person to show up as a name, there had to be a personal connection. If there wasn’t, like a celebrity crush, it would show up as a picture. But this was text, so…

Well, she hoped that her soulmate was safe.

Over time, more names appeared. They were all just as odd.

Nightwing?

Batgirl?

A simple google search showed they were vigilantes, too. She frowned slightly.

As long as they were okay, she supposed she should just be happy that they were talking to good people.

Besides, being friends with vigilantes seemed kind of cool. She could understand the appeal. She wished that Paris had something like that.

~

When he was fifteen a polka-dotted yoyo appeared over his heart, displacing their family’s names slightly. He stared at the yoyo for a minute in the mirror and then snickered to himself.

“Damn. They must really like yoyos.”

He laughed to himself and glanced at his back to see if anything changed, and was surprised to find that Chloe’s name had been moved away to make room for…

Was that a butterfly?

“And hate butterflies, apparently.”

~

She stared at the tiny bird over her heart.

Computers, skateboards, circuses, photography, and… birdwatching?

Whoever her soulmate was, their hobbies had range.

~

Tim had been changing out of his Robin costume when the names started disappearing.

Panic filled him. He’d heard before that, when your soulmate dies, your tattoos start to disappear.

But a few stayed, as did their hobbies.

He looked over the remaining names.

Their parents were still there, right next to the yoyo. Their family life was okay…

He stared at the other name and his eyebrows knit together.

Who names their kid Chat Noir?

He shook his head slightly. Maybe his soulmate had a black cat and wasn’t good at naming things.

Tim checked his back, mostly out of habit more than anything, and frowned to himself.

The butterfly had disappeared, and in its place were two names:

Lila Rossi and Hawkmoth.

~

She grinned as she twirled around in the dress she’d made. She was rather proud of it, it had a nice red and black color scheme.

She started taking it off, only to realize something.

Everything was gone.

She looked over her skin, running her fingers over where all the tiny tattoos had once been and felt tears form in her eyes.

Her soulmate was…

And then, slowly but surely, something appeared on her chest.

She wiped her eyes and looked at it, only to frown.

A gag gun that said ‘BANG’.

Nerves rattled around inside her. Something was definitely wrong, she could tell. But how could she fix it?

Maybe she could convince Master Fu to give her the horse miraculous? She could drop into Gotham as Ladybug for a little while and check up on them? Sure, she had no idea who her soulmate was, but she knew who they hung out with. She should at least make sure they’re okay.

A few hours later she was dumped unceremoniously onto a Gotham rooftop.

She looked up at the portal Master Fu had dropped her through and made a rude hand gesture, then pushed herself to her feet. She walked to the edge of the roof, dusting herself off as she went, and looked over the side.

Wow, this place definitely looked like the most dangerous city in the world. She could see a guy holding a gun while walking an old lady across the street it was so bad.

She pulled out her phone and looked up a picture of the vigilantes that she’d seen on her chest. Nightwing… Batgirl…  Batman…

Man, did they have to wear such dark colors? It was night! How dare they do the smart thing and make it hard to see them!

Fine. Time to wonder around and pray, she supposed.

She had been considering detransforming and seeing if she could buy a coffee when she heard a click behind her head.

Ah. Fuck.

~~~

Part 1/21, 34k words in all

Next

The version on AO3 was edited by me to make it better (in my opinion) but this is the original version if you'd prefer that

You didn’t really give me any specifics so I’m sorry if this didn’t turn out like you wanted. You were probably expecting fluff but uhhhhhh,,, don’t know why you were asking ME for that --

[sharkneto]

👀👀👀

Some more Number at 30 vs his apocalypse week. Backing it up to that first sibling conversation:

“Hang on,” Luther interrupts. “We’re just believing this? Based on what? Five isn’t part of the Academy and Vanya is ordinary, how would she stop the apocalypse? And if you had already stopped it, why wouldn’t you tell Dad? Are you saying you could have saved him?”

“I’m going to be honest, I assumed he already knew what I was doing. He was infuriatingly on top of what I was up to all the time. Was a pleasant surprise when I got the notice that he’d still bit it, right on schedule.” Five punctuates that with an indifferent shrug that only works to further rile up Luther.

“I’ll play along for a second, here. Just for a minute, because if this is all true, why wouldn’t you tell him? If you told him he would have gotten the word out to the rest of us, we could have prepared together.”

Five snorts. “Yeah, because everyone here would answer a call from dear, old Dad.”

“They would if it was important,” Luther insists. Diego and Klaus resolutely do not look at him.

“Oh, absolutely, Luther,” Five says in condescending agreement. “That’s why he killed himself instead of picking up the phone.”

Luther stands taller in his frustration, towering over Five. Anyone else would take a step back, but Five has never been cowed by Luther’s significantly greater strength. He holds his ground and simply smiles one of his infuriating, tight-lipped little smiles up at his brother. “You keep saying that,” Luther says, “that Dad killed himself. And ‘right on schedule’. Why? You don’t have any proof.”

“Sure I do. A future version of myself told me.”

“What?” Klaus blurts. “Like, time travel?”

Five nods. “Exactly like time travel.”

Klaus frowns as he considers that. “Why do you get to time travel? I want to time travel. Check out the sixties or seventies, those were some good times.”

“It’s my power, dumbass.”

“Oh my god,” Allison sighs. “Are you talking about when we were twelve and you spent a year telling us all about how you were going to time travel and then never did?”

Five frowns. “I did time travel then. I just wasn’t very good at it, yet. The future version of myself stopped me and sent me back before I could get stuck in the apocalypse. Diverted me from him and created our timeline.”

“You can time travel,” Diego says, incredulous. “And you did it seventeen years ago and then never said anything to any of us? You? You couldn’t tie your goddamn shoes fastest without bragging about it. No way you sat on time travel for two fucking decades.”

“He did,” Ben says, thoughtful. Allison frowns at him. “When he was at Chicago. He’d drunk call me all the time. He mentioned it a few times, but he was so drunk I didn’t realize that was what he was telling me.”

“That still means he’s been sitting on this power for a decade, not using it,” Luther says. “Think of how helpful that could have been on missions.”

“Yeah, missions, that’s what matters here,” Diego mutters.

“It does! It could have saved Ben!” He regrets those words as soon as they’re out of his mouth, Allison can tell. He closes his eyes, grimacing, and deflates slightly. “I mean…”

“Five did save me,” Ben says evenly.

Five stands frozen in his spot by the fireplace, jaw set, gaze cool on Luther. “I told you. I wasn’t very good at it. And I’ve tried. Ben is too entwined with the timeline. He’s a major piece to move and the net cost of changing it is too much. At least he’s alive. Other Me’s Ben was dead.”

Ben’s expression sobers. His gaze flicks to Klaus. “Five, why don’t you start at the beginning. Give us some context.”

Five glances around at all of them before blinking back to his chair. Allison settles into her seat. Tension hovers in the air between them, as Five decides where he wants to start. Luther crosses his arms, obviously holding his tongue.

“It started when we were thirteen and I stormed out from dinner,” Five says.

“When you went missing for a week and we all worried about you while you hid out somewhere pretending you were better than us?” Diego asks.

“I wasn’t missing, I missed it. I jumped into the future where I ran into an alternate version of myself. If he hadn’t stopped me, I would have ended up landing on April 2, 2019—”

“That’s next week,” Luther interrupts despite himself.

Five nods.

Allison blinks as Five isn’t in the chair anymore. She takes a careful breath in against the sharp wave of vertigo that crashes through her. There’s a moment of confusion again as they find Five, again, now pacing behind the couch. His expression is twisted in frustration and he runs a hand through his hair.

That definitely wasn’t one of his spatial jumps. There was no light, no whumpf, it was too instantaneous.

“Wha— You were say— Five, what about April second?” Luther stutters, working as hard as she is to try and catch up to whatever just happened.

“Hang on. I should have known that wouldn’t work. It’s too much, too fast. His life was insane,” Five says, still distant in his thoughts.

Vanya sighs. “Just tell them.”

“I did. It went very badly.”

Vanya sighs again but settles back into her resigned silence.

“What does this have to do with your tantrum?” Diego asks.

That pulls Five back. His attention slams onto Diego. “It wasn’t a tantrum,” he says, finger pointed to emphasize his clarification. “I was proving a point, that I could time travel. Which I did.”

[spideychelleforever]

Somehow, MJ had found herself in a multiverse spanning adventure with her boyfriend and what she assumed was the most powerful sorcerer in the world. To be honest, as smart as she was, the staggering enormity of the fact she was traveling through other universes, and the fact that her own - one where she had lived a happy childhood, where she watched VHS’s with her mom and dad all day, where her biggest concern was not getting more applesauce, where the scariest thing was her room before she got Christmas lights hung over her bed - was just ONE universe out of countless others?

It was more than she wanted to really process. So she was doing her best to roll with it.

Peter, ever the eternal spring of happiness and light, even if it was his own coping mechanism, was unbothered, and all he did was smile at her and keep holding her hand and staying close to her wherever she, him, and Strange went. She wasn’t religious, but God bless him? He had a way of trying to make her feel safe, even if he didn’t succeed in it, and it just reminded her all over again how she’d been in love with him since he was a curly haired, baby fat-carrying dork who was friendly to her on her first day of school with him.

But, nonetheless, through the multiverse they went. Seeing all kinds of terrible things, some of them mundane things. She got to meet other versions of herself. One Michelle Jones was a successful, rich artist, who provided her husband with a lot of financial backing for his superheroics. One Michelle Jones was a cat-themed vigilante who had a particularly fiery, passionate relationship with Peter. One Michelle Jones was super fat. One Michelle Jones was Spider-Woman, and Peter was her small, meek sidekick. Another had taken the super soldier serum out of desperation and was now Captain America. Another had been with the Avengers throughout the Snap and the Blip while Peter had still died and came back. MJ lost track of how many Michelle Jones’ she met.

But the one thing they all had in common, which started having a profound effect on the temperature in her chest, was that they all were with their Peter Parker. His exact appearance and personality differed a bit in each universe, but it was still recognizably the same Peter Parker who told her he really liked her on the bridge in London. The same smile, the same hair, the same sweetness. And in every single universe, he loved his respective Michelle Jones.

It started doing things to her head, you know? Seeing the same thing play out in all these different universes. Yes, they had already met a Peter Parker who was with a Mary Jane Watson, and a Peter Parker who was with a Gwen Stacy, both of whom were older than her Peter. But seeing this? That in countless universes, Peter Parker and Michelle Jones were still very much in love despite everything, despite everything she had done in the years prior to the Europe trip that had been done seemingly to sabotage her own happiness?

It was unreal.

And it made her soft.

Inevitably, something went wrong, however. Some enemy from the multiverse attacked and she and Peter were separated from Strange. Their instincts told them to stay put, knowing Strange was the most qualified to find them and not the other way around. At this point, they were in the empty apartment of… themselves? MJ could see pictures framed or on the wall of their variants. It was still recognizably them, but again, there were minor differences.

They were eating some ramen noodle cups when they heard a knock at the door. Eying each other warily, the pair slowly went to the peephole - MJ took point since she was taller, ha - and MJ slowly turned back to him, startled.

“Who is it?” Peter asked.

“… it’s you,” MJ mumbled.

They opened the door, and another Peter Parker variant was standing there.

And another.

And another.

And another.

Soon the apartment was filled with far more than just one Peter Parker. Thankfully, her Peter had a distinctive scar on his cheek from a recent fight with Doc Ock, so she wouldn’t lose track. But being in a room with much, much more Peter than she was used to? That was a lot.

They all talked over each other, trying to figure out what was going on. Talk of portals and villains and where their Michelle Jones was. Soon talk shifted to how long they’d been with their respective Michelle. What she liked to do, what she liked to eat, their favorite memories. So then they all turned their attention to Michelle herself, and asked if she was okay.

This was-a fucking lot. Michelle stared wide-eyed. Attention was never something she was great at. And she still had… issues over the fact that she was getting it from the boy she’d pined after for so many years. And now she was getting attention from all these Peter’s?!?

“No, I’m NOT!” MJ shouted. And soon it was all out in the open. She couldn’t even process how heartbreaking it was to see the pain in each Peter’s face, least of all her own, at seeing her angrily rant and stress about the situation. About how she wanted to forget there was a multiverse, about how she just wanted to go home and live a safe life with her Peter again. It just wasn’t fair, and soon she was sniffling.

No Peter made a move except for her own. The one who had been nice to her on their first day of school. “Can I touch you?”

Through her tears, MJ stiffly nodded, and melted into his embrace, smiling weakly when she felt a peck on her cheek.

“What can I do, to make you feel better?”

MJ didn’t answer.

That is, until he said something that changed her.

“We could have sex?”

MJ stared at him blankly.

Yes, they’d been active before this all started. But… actually, that sounded better than she had expected. Much, much better.

MJ eventually slowly nodded. And she betrayed herself by glancing around the room of Peter’s.

Peter slightly raised an eyebrow, his smile turning a little smug. “Did you have a crazy idea?”

MJ couldn’t answer as she looked back at him.

Peter shrugged. “Well, they’re all me.”

MJ didn’t respond.

****

Nine hours.

Nine hours passed after Peter affirmed the other Peter Parker’s were all him.

And Michelle Jones had seemingly lost track of everything since then.

Never in her life had she expected to see not one, but at least a dozen nearly identical set of naked Peter Parker’s all ready to pleasure her. To take care of her. To caress her, to tease her, to do things to her that made her feel like a goddess. A goddess of gluttony and lust who was pleasured by all she wanted.

She hadn’t expected to become nearly hysterical. Okay, well, her and Peter’s first time she did get pretty worked up - she’d been wanting her boy for years, of COURSE she got loud, okay?! - but this was different. She’d been hoarse after her nights with Peter, but she could barely speak. She had never expected to be pleasured by twelve times the “old webshooter” than she was used to. And she never expected so many of his toned arms, his thick and muscular calves, his washboard abs, his rock solid chest, to be on her. And she couldn’t get enough.

She was so greedy she surprised herself. She kept reaching and clawing for more, and more, and more. If this was cake she was desperately clawing for more of, she’d be the fattest Michelle Jones variant in the universe - or multiverse, or Omni-fucking verse, whatever. She couldn’t get enough Peter, and even as horrendously exhausting as it was to be in bed with twelve Peter’s, it wasn’t enough. She wanted Peter Parker. She’d wanted him all her life. And she couldn’t be satisfied.

That was, until after four hours of having multiple Peter’s on her - or in her, haha - her original Peter took leadership. How he cooed that he was here to take over, to take care of her, to please her, to love her.

Michelle had lost count of how many times she’d exploded that night, but she wanted to say it paled in comparison to when she got a hold of her original Peter alone.

After nine hours of Peter, MJ was limp. Only her heartbeat suggested she was alive. She’d seemingly lost any motor functions of her limbs, her hair was a massive, wild, huge mess obscuring her eyes. She was sweaty. Her voice failed her.

And despite all this, she wanted more.

But she couldn’t even be active herself if she wanted. She was just that far gone, she couldn’t even cuddle her Peter back, when that was one of her favorite parts of being in bed with him.

She was barely awake when she felt a light kiss, and heard a soft “I love you” from her Peter.

This was right.

There could be countless other multiverses out there, with countless other possibilities, but this was right.

This is for @machiavelien and their recent drabbles 🥰😜💘 hope I did the idea some justice

[egg-emperor]

not sure if you didn't get my ask the first time but what about Sonic X , version of Eggman? its Yuji Naka's vision and he isn't that evil as many of the other characters that appear in the series, I would really love to hear what you think about it as an Eggman fan

Oh I did get your ask, I was just trying to think of the best way to word my answer.

X Eggman has a very special place in my heart for being one of my first pieces of Sonic media, aside from Heroes and Shadow 2005. As you may know, that two games didn't have that much Eggman in them and his character was being mistreated with the way he was being sidelined. But something about Eggman was already appealing to me and I wanted to see more of him, so I watched X before getting any other games. It was one of the first bigger looks I got at Eggman as a result.

X really helped me fall in love with Eggman because I got to see much more of him and how charming, funny, and evil he can be. Literally every time he was on screen he made me smile and laugh, I just found him so entertaining. I still do to this day and I rewatch it annually. But it wasn't the idea they tried to push of him being 'not that evil' or capable of doing good that appealed to me about his character from the very beginning. I loved all the evil and assholic things he did throughout the show.

He still had evil, selfish, and rude moments that made him look like a big dick and I loved it. The idea of him suddenly caring for Sonic and friends later on came out of nowhere and I don't like how it was handled, so I like to imagine it was just another one of his acts to get on their good side, so they could all defeat the Metarex. I know that wasn't really the case and I'm not very happy about it. It was random and out of nowhere and it contradicts things that Eggman did in this very show. It downplays his villainy for no good reason.

I think the "when you actually hurt them, that's going too far" line was one of the most ridiculous things to come out of Eggman's mouth of all people. It makes him so hypocritical, even when it comes to his portrayal in the show because he still hurt plenty, attempted to kill Sonic and friends, tried to blow up Station Square, and did countless other terrible destructive things, and there's no way that multiple of his plans didn't result in collateral damage.

Chris wasn't even the exception either because remember when he jumped onto Eggman's Egg Mobile in an attempt to take the emerald, and when he grabbed Eggman's mustache, he shook him off and sent him plummeting to his doom? Where was the good in his heart when he allowed the twelve year old to fall and almost die and only cared about the fact that he'd just accidentally let the emerald fall with him? It doesn't seem very kind and caring to me, but very in character selfish, as he should be. So yeah, he's one to talk in that scene when he's even put Chris in harm's way himself.

In the Japanese version of that line, he said he doesn't hurt hostages. But what I think would've be more in character would be that he just wouldn't care if hostages get hurt, as long as they're still alive to use as the bait. I said in the little rant that I slipped into my Eggman X supercut season 3 video that the only way I could really see the scene working was if Eggman was just pretending to take the moral high ground just to piss off the Metarex or something. Because otherwise it just really doesn't make sense.

I despise the Metarex for being boring villains with generic designs. They really wanted us to think they were amazing, powerful, and scary but they were try hard and had no interesting motive. Eggman made them look stupid by pointing out how their plan doesn't make sense and results in destroying planets so they won't have anything to rule over and prove their power to. They have a boring motive, unlike Eggman who has an egotistical dream that he'll go to great lengths to accomplish, rather than just being "haha I'm so evil I'm going to destroy everything for no reason"

It feels like just another case of Eggman's villainy being downplayed in an attempt to emphasize how much better of a villain and bigger of a threat others are supposed to be, which I'm never a fan of because it's not true. Eggman isn't innocent compared to them, he just has a better plan that doesn't involve just destroying the world. And when you have to either put Eggman down or make him act OOC so he doesn't seem as evil, then they're clearly not good villains that can prove themselves on their own. Other villains shouldn't take away from Eggman, instead we should be told why we should see these villains as a dangerous threat like Eggman.

I can't take away the idea that 'oh Eggman is actually a kind and caring guy compared to the big scary super evil Metarex' away from the scene. He's a terrible person too, the only reason he frowns upon the Metarex's acts isn't because he has a good heart, it's because they're going to destroy everything he wants to conquer. Eggman has always been selfish and only cared about what he wants and he doesn't care who gets hurt as long as he gets it. This even applied to X Eggman himself earlier on in the show.

If he was truly a good guy, why wasn't he holding back and showing care from the start? When people were getting hurt because of his actions and he was intentionally trying to kill others, why were there so many moments of him clearly enjoying it? And if it was supposed to be seen as some type of character development, they didn't do a very good job at showing it because him actually being concerned for others came out of nowhere. And even so, I just don't think it works for Eggman because if there isn't some secret evil and selfish motive behind his actions, it just makes him a big hypocrite.

But besides that bothering me because it's not the kind of development I think Eggman should have, I love X Eggman for many other reasons in a way that I can rewatch the show without it getting to me much. But I still really wish they would've done some things differently because earlier on it seemed like they had the right idea but had to bring that whole twist out of nowhere which I just don't think suits a deeply selfish, narcissistic, dangerous man that lacks empathy. (Because yes, there were even blatant moments in X that showed Eggman's low empathy was still there. That's how he does the things he does without shame.)

And one thing that stops me from being as bitter about it in the end is that, despite who was involved with X in Japan, it's still clearly very separate from the games. Just like how Boom Eggman, who is also portrayed as being a nicer Eggman, is entirely separate. Game universe Eggman has done a lot more evil, selfish, fucked up catastrophic shit than both X and Boom Eggman combined and clearly has no ounce of remorse. That's why I've never been a fan of people attempting to merge the separate universes/canons together when they just don't work.

There's nothing in the games that implies game Eggman has this same mindset and ability to care about anyone other than himself, unlike X or Boom Eggman. And even though X Eggman was the first time I got to see a version of him really in action, it didn't shape my view of him in the games because I could recognize the differences. I'm happy that it didn't affect his game portrayal because I already think those moments in X were OOC enough for X Eggman when they contradict his actions, so it would've made even less sense for him in the game universe.

The concept of him being not such a bad guy doesn't need to be a part of his character to make him charming, lovable and entertaining to me. He's perfect just the way he is as the prideful, selfish, egotistical bastard that I fell in love with. 💜

[katnissmellarkkk]

Andddd here’s my chappy three thoughts 🥳🥳🥳

Hmmm Katniss saying that her mother has a dress made of velvet is actually really interesting because it shows that Mrs. Everdeen Lily-Rose really was well-er off before she married Katniss’ father Hunter.

Or did she get the velvet dress from Maysilee? Oh well, who knows.

Aww, Katniss’ nervous habit of touching soft things repeatedly to soothe herself 🤧🤧.

“Crying is not an option. There will be more cameras at the train station.” — someone tell that to Peeta 🤣🤣🤣.

Okay I gotta stop picking on Primmers, I know but like. How small is she that she sits on Katniss’ lap like a toddler but then in the following year is the same height as her? Doesn’t matter I know but still I wonder.

Okay so Mrs. E is the doctor for the people of the Seam? Idk I never thought about this but who does people like Peeta or Madge or Delly go to if they’re sick or hurt? Is there a still running apothecary shop that Katniss never mentions? Are her grandparents still running the family biz?

Also okay, I gotta stop having so many thoughts on all the lil details I know but like. Katniss says here she’s familiar with the herbs her mother doesn’t grow on her own so like a). Katniss is more of a healer than she leads on because no average person knows what kind of plant is medicinal and b). Her mother is just growing herbs and Katniss never mentions it again in the whole series? Or I just missed it.

Okay imma move on from this one singular paragraph but Gale and her made a pact a year ago that they’ll supply each other’s family with game if they were to be reaped... I’m feeling like their close friendship is probably only one year old then? Idk. Just my interpretation.

Honestly I love Katniss getting mad at her mom here.

She’s sixteen, for God’s sake, of course she’s angry at what her mother’s illness put her through.

Also I lowkey like that her mother got mad back because that lady in the movies had zero personality.

“Boys who are two to three times my size.” She sounds so little, omg 🥺🥺🥺.

“I don’t care if we’re rich, I just really want you to come home” 🤧🤧🤧😩😩😩😩 okay Primmers, you got me here.

“the Peacekeeper is at the door, signaling our time is up, and we're all hugging one another so hard it hurts and all I'm saying is ‘I love you. I love you both.’ And they're saying it back...” this is so sad leave me be 😫😫😫😫

Katniss is burying her face in a pillow to block out her emotions this is too much for me 🥵🥵🥵

Omg I forgot Peeta’s father visits Katniss 😅

Why does he visit Katniss?

She describes Peeta’s father as a “big, broad-shouldered man.” And then describes Peeta as stocky. Idk the comparison of the two descriptions has always led me to think Peeta is gonna be a big dude when he grows up like his father. This made no sense and had zero correlation but I thought, so I said it, no regrets

Oh he brought her cookies 🤧

WAIT WAIT WAIT. I just had a new thought, y’all. What if instead of the baker bringing cookies being a thing he does for all tributes, what if he’s bringing the cookies because Peeta asked him to, because he made them and wants to give them to Katniss and knows she’ll never accept / trust them coming from her competition? What if that’s the real reason the baker visited her in the first place? Because Peeta asked him to? This was such a shipper comment but idc, no regrets, remember?

Omg Peeta’s father is just mute 🤣🤣🤣

Between an abusive, angry mother and a mute for a father, the Mellark brothers must have had a fairytale of a childhood 😅😅😅😅.

But seriously #PoorPeetaMyBaby

Aww Peeta’s father is gonna help keep Prim alive 😭

Omg I just remembered he’s her mother’s ex boyfriend. Haidon Mellark, as I named him in my fics.

That one fic where he was thought to be Prim’s real father is just playing now in my head, rent free.

But does Katniss not realize that he may be offering to help Prim as a favor to her? Like she claims Prim is just so wonderful people adore her but there’s like zero evidence in the text that make her endearing? Okay I need to turn this bus around, I need to find a love for Primmy Deen.

Madge is not one for preamble apparently. No “hi, how are you? I’m sorry you’re gonna die? What will your last meal be?” Just right to “here, wear this family heirloom of mine, k thanks.”

I like that Madge had to kiss her cheek for Katniss to realize they were friends 😅😅😅.

I remember always loving her and Gale’s hug here. I’ve always felt like it was platonic, but especially when I first read the books and had zero preference one way or another for Gale or Peeta, I really liked how she said even with nothing romantic between them, “when he opens his arms, I don’t hesitate to go to him” or something I’m paraphrasing ok I’m lazy

Also though, this is the first time they’ve ever hugged? Idk why that surprises me? It shouldn’t because where is a hug gonna fit into a hunting trip 😅🤣😂 “I just caught a deer!” “let’s celebrate with a hug!”

I like that Katniss remembers how her father even failed to make a good bow sometimes. Random, I know.

I like that the Capitol weren’t entertained by the people freezing to deaths because it wasn’t bloody enough 🤭🙃

“How different can it be [to kill a human vs an animal]?” She’s about to find out, Gale 🥺. And when she comes back you won’t understand 🙄😔

What did Gale want to say before the Peacekeepers dragged him away?

I used to think it was a confession of love but I’m actually sure it wasn’t now? Just the wording “remember I-“ doesn’t sound like it, considering he never confessed anything prior to her coming home.

I’m assuming now he was just gonna give her some more advice to stay alive 🤷🏼‍♀️. Clearly if it were relevant it would have made its way to the others books.

Aww, she’s never been inside a car before 😭😭. I didn’t even know they had cars in this universe but okay.

I notice though how she says “In the Seam, we travel on foot.” So is Peeta just riding his trolly down the street every day with the other merchants then? 🤣

Peeta just openly crying on camera 😅😢.

I like how Katniss is like “ooo is this an act to get sponsors?” when in reality Peeta’s like “no, I’m just a soft and genuine boy ™️”

Omg I just realized this totally goes along with Peeta’s thing later on “I want to die as myself”

He’s refusing to hold back his emotions because he thinks he’s doomed to die and he’s already refusing to pretend to be or feel something ingenious.

But a Johanna mention in book 1 chapter 3 woohoo 🥳🥳🥳 also Katniss comparing Jo and Peeta is kind of like foreshadowing of their shared torture in book 3.

Omg she just called Peeta broad-shouldered and strong. 🥰🥰🥰 my headcanon for his post-canon body is confirmed

Also why does Katniss keep allotting his strength to carrying bread trays around? Are they heavy? Why have I never once heard of people who carry bread trays being strong? I always thought Peeta was really strong because he learned to fight in order to defend himself against his mother but that’s probably wrong.

But if a mother is abusive, it can lead to one of the kids being physically violent as well and we know Peeta isn’t but he has two older brothers I’m gonna cut myself off now but I think we all smelled what I just stepped in.

Also I just find it so fascinating now how she regards herself vs Peeta here.

When talking about herself, she says, “The competition will be far beyond my abilities. [...] Oh, there'll be people like me, too. People to weed out before the real fun begins.” But when she talks about Peeta, she immediately says, “It would take an awful lot of weeping to convince anyone to overlook him.”

It’s just funny how she discounted herself right from the start but thought he was a real contender and then come to find out, Peeta believes it’s the exact opposite 😂🙃. They’re both so stupid I can’t even take it.

Wait did they actually give the location of the Capitol and the location of District Twelve in today’s world? And I just overlooked it? Brb I’m gonna go to google maps right quick.

Okay so basically what I gathered is the Capitol is probably in New Mexico and District Twelve is somewhere between Kentucky and Alabama. Irrelevant I know. But just a reminder now to everyone that Katniss and Peeta are literally speaking, crying and screaming in thick, backwoods southern accents.

It’s literally so sad how everything for Katniss is about food. Like every motive she has, every action she does is about preventing starvation ever again. 🤧🤧🤧

First mockingjay mention 🤭🤭.

“My father was particularly fond of mockingjays” 😭😭😭 I bet he was 😭😭😭😭

We always go on and on about how Katniss is a mockingjay or her children are mockingjays but Katniss herself here says mockingjays represent her father imma cry, y’all 😫😫😫😫

“It’s like having a piece of my father with me, protecting me” shut up shut up shut up shut up

Awww, Katniss has never had food like this before 😔😔😔

Neither has Peeta 🤧🤧

Katniss disliking the way Effie put the two kids from the year before down and so began to eat like a pig just to prove her point, is so her. And the beginning of her fighting for the underdog.

Omg the Rue introduction 🥺🥺🥺

Bahahahaha the commenters calling District Twelve backwards but charming 😅😅😅 they really are the hillbilly district

Peeta’s unexpected laugh 🥺🥺🥺 I love you, baby

“He was drunk. He’s drunk every year.” “Every day.” Katniss and Peeta are already finishing each other’s sentiments and teaming up to get on Effie’s nerves I love them so much 😍

Oh my God, Effie, you selfish jerk. They’re kids having fun for like one second, no need to throw in their faces they’re gonna die if the drunk won’t help them. I’d forgotten why I don’t really like the book version of her. I actually prefer her as comedic relief in the movies.

I actually just realized I really dislike Effie Trinket, I hope they never speak to her again Post-Mockingjay. Idc how you’re raised you don’t need to treat teenagers who are sentenced to a probable death badly just because they laughed at you 🙄🙄🙄😡😡😡😡. They didn’t even really laugh at her, she’s just annoying and awful, we don’t stan Effie in this household.

Okay, that’s all for my thoughts on chapter three! Until next time, y’all ! If anyone actually read this long mess of a post.

[ooc-but-stylish]

freezedive:

I think I said it in one of your other beautiful posts, but I thought I’d mention it again. All of the ridiculous cutscenes did give us a golden nugget of information on Luna that most of us who are brutally critical of her (like you and me), suspected all along: Luna openly admits to Gentiana that she doesn’t think she has anything to offer Noctis outside of being an oracle. And Gentiana makes it worse by speaking in fancy words by saying some bullshit about her being the oracle is her being human or something and that she is fulfilling her true calling and that is what Noctis needs? Idk but it reeked of emotional manipulation. 

I hold little to no regard for Ravus because there’s evidence Luna was being brutally beaten right under his own nose while he was busy being the Emperor’s lapdog thinking it could maybe give him the power to save his sister? The man should have opened his eyes and defended her against the men that kept them jailed

I happened on this reply to roxainn’s post while trying to recapitulate all my other FFXV critical posts and reblogs on the way to making new ones. 

Crawling back to find anything about this point, I find that it was posted 3 years ago. But at least I reblogged the reply to it.... and missed that it was literally @ ME. Goddamn did I slack.

But here’s my reply, 3 years late, which should elaborate on where I stand on this.

Yes, the flashback that gets triggered by a random creepy little girl in Tenebrae is about Luna and Gentiana. Somehow the little girl knew about that conversation even though she wasn’t there to witness it first-hand? Or maybe Noctis was imagining what the conversation would be like between Gentiana and Luna off of the vague suggestion from the girl, and it’s just him telling on himself that his imagination of Luna says all that? Otherwise the not-altogether-tinfoil-hat theory says it’s Gentiana in the form of a little girl, telling Noctis something that IMO should piss him off but just makes him sad and guilty because Luna loved him so much, don’t you see. She loved him so much that after wrapping her entire life around him, she’d just want to keep that going for the rest of their lives!

Gentiana opens the conversation with, “At first, the father had mourned the fate of his chosen son. Yet in Tenebrae, the two found solace. It was not the Oracle who assuaged their fears. But the girl…she holds…the true power.”

Then Luna replies, “I have little to offer a king, other than the voice afforded the Oracle. Nevertheless…” She turns to look at the wedding dress. “And—I’m afraid he might find this foolish… But…to be together with Noctis again, even if only for a short while… It…would mean the world to me. I do not seek to guide him, merely to stand beside him.”

The exchange is all types of fucky.

First off, she was twelve. What comfort could she have offered Regis and Noctis? What comfort was she capable of when Sylva was right there, an adult with experience of an Oracle and a personality thanks to a presumable full life not hampered by grooming of the gods? 

Second, every other scene of Luna as a child is of her telling Noctis his duty, and that it was her duty to see it through. Did that assuage his fears-- the fears he didn’t have at the time since he never knew the entire meaning of his fate and was being told a saccharine, embellished version of it by Luna right there? Did that comfort Regis, knowing a little girl would also die to protect his son if the gods wanted it, but that she wouldn’t have the will to avert their fates whatsoever? 

Third, even she thinks Noctis would think her desire to be with him is foolish. So... was she expecting that Noctis himself didn’t have feelings for her or want to spend time with her of his own volition for reasons outside of her job? She was looking forward to a marriage with no emotional security, where her desires are one-sided and unreciprocated, and the man she cares for think she’s worthless outside of her powers? She would’ve been willing to put herself through that, given a choice?

We know what we know and think what we think, but the fact that this was placed right in the vanilla game and no one thought that was wrong, and instead they doubled down on it in patches, is pathetic on their part.

Moreover, what does The Girl have, that was separate from The Princess and The Oracle? Every facet of her being wrapped around Noctis since age 4. She was nothing but her duty by the time Noctis met her; they had no scenes where they acted as children would. Even supplemental/promotional art for other XV media and related locales cement that. Little Luna serves Little Noctis pastries, she’s not seen eating with him. Luna teaches Noctis how to play piano, she’s not playing with him. Dawn of the Future came out with its own art, and Noctis is afforded the liberty to sit in a chair, and his son(?) sits on his lap, while Luna and her spitting image child(?) are both on their knees, looking up at the dudes. 

In most of their art together, Luna and Noctis are either not meeting each other's gazes, she's bending or kneeling to him, or he's supposed to be holding her close but he hover-hands her, or there’s that one time where they took a selfie and the picture was of their Pocket Edition versions. They’re still not looking at each other in that one. And it’s not canon.

Anyway yeah, any conversation Gentiana has with Luna about Noctis is emotional manipulation on Gentiana’s part, but the writers manage just enough to make everyone involved seem creepy and reprehensible in their own way. 

In DOTF, Luna has a death soliloquy that confirms she sunk into the water at the end of the game’s Chapter 9, but the soliloquy is about how she was prepared to die even at the age of 12, and she put on a smile and resolved to be strong for Noctis’s sake, so that he wouldn’t remember her having a look of despair. There’s a line there about how she would cry herself to sleep but Gentiana would wipe her tears. Gentiana does nothing else except allow her to cry and wipe her tears afterward, and makes no effort to save her from her fate or at least take her out of terrible situations so that she would cry fewer tears. But there is cut dialogue from the game, and used in the novel, where Gentiana revealed herself as Shiva when Luna was <16 (probably still 12 at the time), when she thought she was being held back from forming the covenants, so there’s that. And Luna still somehow ignored that this meant Shiva allowed Sylva to die, and thanked this useless goddess for her nonexistent generosity. 

For whatever reason they had to add a passage where Luna superimposes the image of an eight-year-old Noctis onto the adult version-- quote, "the image of him as a child, burned into my eyelids, overlaps with his now-grown face"-- even though Noctis has canonically sent her photos of him as a teenager (15-16, around the time he met Prompto in high school, see: Brotherhood). Granted, that's a translation from Luna's voice actress reading an excerpt as if it were first person POV. The English version says she sees the child image first, then the adult version is superimposed. Then not much after that there's a passage where Noctis smiles as his child self and it was "that smile she loved that had been in her heart all these years, giving her strength, always and forever".

So she was groomed and turned into a shell since age 4, believes she has no value outside of her job and turned her grooming on a similarly vulnerable child, and her strongest image of him, the one she fell in love with and kept in her heart, is of the helpless boy that promised her the world without knowing the cost. The smile of the carefree boy that didn't know his journey would end with his soul annihilated. It couldn’t have been that hard to have her see an image of him as the 30 year old True King of Light that he would become. At least she'd sound a little less like a weirdo who continually places herself (and is placed by the narrative) as below him, unworthy of him, etc. but also has strong feelings and memories toward a goddamn child.

Re: Ravus: you already got a reply to that, but for real? Ravus was also shafted by the plot and beaten down by terrible, amateur writing. The narrative shits on him as if it’s written by a high schooler or otherwise emotionally arrested adult trying to push a Mary Sue Protagonist. The modus operandi for those stories is that everyone who disagrees with the protagonist in any way has to suffer tremendous humiliation including but not limited to death, because the Protagonist Is Just So Good And Perfect And Always Right. 

Nothing Ravus does justifies his treatment in-game or in-fandom like he’s a one-note out-and-out villain who wanted nothing but to kill Noctis and disrespect his sister, to the point where his corpse is defiled multiple times in Chapter 13 and he’s twisted into a perversion of himself that begs to die.

Chapter 13 has Noctis land next to Ravus’s corpse and all his letters to Luna, and Noctis has piss all to say about it, either out loud or to anyone. He looks at the Sword of the Father, glances at Ravus, and without a word takes the Royal Arm and lets the Magitek arm-- still dripping, still gross-- fall onto Ravus’s body and doesn’t even move it.  

He had no way of knowing beforehand that Ignis and Gladio knew of Ravus being killed. WE didn't even know they saw security footage until Ch13V2 was added in. Noctis happening on his late fiancée's dead bro sounds, I don’t fucking know, like something you’d want to tell everyone else about later. Along with the letters he wrote evidencing that he intended to return the Sword of the Father to Noctis!

An aside: The Letters from Ravus are just weird to behold; it isn't 100% clear whether Luna ever received all of those letters. She had to have received the first one, at least. But the idea that Ardyn intercepted even one other letter so that Luna never heard from her brother between Tenebrae and Altissia is farfetched. He shouldn’t be able to intercept those messages as if they were delivered conventionally. Luna has a pair of magic space-bending Shiba Inu that send letters instantly across continents. If she’s sparing their use to send Noctis one-liners and stickers but can’t afford that for Ravus to send her discrete updates on Noctis’s status, she’s a piece of shit. 

They do meet in Tenebrae as Ravus wanted her to, and they have the conversation where he gets on her case about her “throwing [her] life away” for Noctis. So chances are higher that Ardyn only got a hold of all three letters after Luna received them and no sooner, but then he shouldn’t be tossing letters from Ravus at the dude’s body when it makes more sense for him to toss down letters to Ravus, since the writers wanted to make a point of Ardyn having a vicious streak. It makes way more sense for Ardyn to deprive Ravus of Luna’s writing, then insult him with them post-mortem, unless Ravus’s notes were really all he could acquire, meaning Luna never once wrote back to her brother. 

The Doylist explanation is that the writing team sucks and couldn't be assed to think of anything for Luna to say because they didn't think of her at all. The Watsonian explanation is that Luna’s a piece of shit and that tracks with her in Kingsglaive watching her brother burn alive in response to the Ring, but ignoring him and running to Regis’s aid instead, but then the rest of the plot presents her as morally pure through her white clothing and “unconditional, self-abnegating love” for Noctis.

Back to the topic: I don’t know, maybe I’m being old fashioned, but Noctis should’ve given more of a shit that his dropping the Magitek Arm on Ravus’s body was probably what turned him into a mutated abomination begging to die, and he thought so little of Ravus that the dude isn’t even in the glimpse of "people who helped me get this far" in the Beyond. Ravus doesn’t even get a spot to wish Noctis and Luna well on their afterlife wedding, not that it makes any sense for any of them to have words to say since Noctis is already dead, no one was there with them, and none of the bros expressed any sign that they knew that Noctis was bound to get married after his sacrifice (he sure doesn’t mention it in the final campfire scene and that’d be a better place than any). But anyway, Regis is in the Beyond at Noctis’s side even though he never told Noctis a damn thing and still never spoke to him from within the Ring, but Ravus? Nah, he’s the real asshole somehow and doesn’t deserve any recognition whatsoever.

The only other characters I know of that have a remotely similar dynamic to Noctis, Luna, and Ravus (lovers, but the girl has a straight-edge protective brother working for the bad guys) is Nero, Kyrie, and Credo (see: Devil May Cry), but as much as I think the writing in that series is hokey as fuck, at least the writer(s) for DMCs 4 and 5 had enough sense to make the love story simple and based it from a line from Amagasaki City-- “I love you, so I love the city that you love.”-- and opted against portraying Credo as an outright villain because if Nero killed him, Kyrie would resent him for it even though she knew Credo was working for the same Order that threatened her life. 

Shouldn’t Noctis care about the shit Luna cares about even if he has no personal investment in it or it’s inconvenient to him? Shouldn’t he care about Tenebrae and its prosperity? or about Ravus? Nah, it’s okay, Noctis doesn’t have to respect Luna’s love for her brother or her kingdom because for all intents and purposes, she doesn’t care for Ravus or for Tenebrae as much as she loves Noctis. Her love for Noctis and her looking forward to the wedding is what matters here.

The yaaaas queen vicious clapback from Kingsglaive!Luna about how Ravus is the Empire’s dog is especially rich coming from her when she’s fellating the gods all through the game even though Eos’s equivalent of The Holy Bible says the Hexatheon’s Revelations destroy cities and that undoubtedly means people are killed by the gods, and their summoner is complicit, because there’s no such thing as a perfect evacuation. See: "Revelations left great devastation in their wake, with entire cities being laid to ruin," noted in the Cosmogony long before the True King even exists. 

Luna herself didn’t see a problem with this and helped in the effort, with no regard to the collateral damage she would cause with the summoning: bonus points for the part where Leviathan is hostile to humanity and threatens to eat every living being if Noctis fails! She had even less regard to the damage Niflheim would cause in their attempt to kill the gods even though she was first-hand witness to them sacking Insomnia. Waking and defeating Titan deprived Lestallum of the meteor they derived power from. Waking Leviathan destroyed Altissia. Luna’s refusal to leave Insomnia when told to by Regis led to her being used as bait and taking the whole of the Kingsglaive out of Insomnia in time for their Face Heel Turn and Insomnia being destroyed. Everything else leads to the eventual World of Ruin where people also die. 

All because she killed herself prematurely from the covenants and didn’t hold back the longer nights as she promised to the public’s face and on her honor as Oracle she would do. Her dying words in Chapter 9 were her being completely satisfied with her fate because “[her] prayers were answered, [her] calling fulfilled”, even though the calling requires that she dies and she should’ve known better than anyone that her death, even if it was for Noctis’s ascension, would endanger the rest of the world for 10 years and helped the Starscourge spread. But instead of fighting for her own life to stem the plague for as long as possible, she let herself die under the belief that "Noct can handle this" to give him the chance to be the revered King of Light. She also didn’t make a single appearance on the world of the living in her spirit form during those ten years until Noctis needed help with a piddly imitation of the Magic Wall, only then does she come down in her ghost form with seemingly all of her power intact, and summons five of The Six as if Noctis can’t easily do it himself.

But Ravus is the lapdog? Luna’s the one with her “ends justify the means” behavior and what looks like general neglect for actual human beings.

Anyway, Ravus stabs Caligo in the back and kills him, and that move only makes sense in light of the idea that Caligo was manhandling Luna as seen in the Dawn trailer. Ravus was 16 when Tenebrae was overrun, and there’s no reason to believe he was magically immune to institutional abuse, so there’s a high chance that he was abused by the Empire too, held resentment of that, and waited for the time he’d be able to retaliate with no repercussions. Gentiana as a goddess is 1000000% more on the hook about letting Luna be beaten than Ravus is, since he saw his mother die in front of him while Regis ran away. Regis had the power of the Ring and could have used elemancy to put out that fire, or void magic to banish Glauca and his MT army, didn’t do that, but he totally spares enough magic during the treaty signing to toss around Thunder spells straight from his hand, cast barriers, and summon some Royal Arms straight at Iedolas, and that’s bad enough. Gentiana who’s been the Fleuret family attendant since Luna was born and also is Shiva who can freeze people with her fingertip had even less excuse to let that fire rage, to let Sylva die protecting her son, and to stand by and allow her ward(s) to get thrown around by some random Imperial soldier.

[remmushound]

Not a request, but a random bonding idea I came up with for my one-shots, so enjoy!! @assanmaharielsreblogs

Michelangelo was making dinner like he always did. While the brothers frequently indulged themselves in pizza and other fast food, that was usually a lunch thing for them. Breakfast and dinner always fell to Michelangelo, just how he liked it. On the odd occasional Michelangelo was hurt or sick or exhausted from a long night out on a mission— too exhausted to get up early or too tired to make dinner— Splinter or Leonardo always substituted (though Leonardo’s substitution was almost always takeout he tried to pass as his own cooking, even when Donatello’s cash count said otherwise. Leonardo always left a generous tip.) Splinter’s cooking wasn’t bad, but it was always some obscure, vaguely familiar dish from his heritage, such as unagi or tempura, that they almost never had all the right ingredients for. Splinter’s supplementation for the missing supplies never really turned out right, though he insisted it tasted just like the real thing. Still, if finances allowed, Donatello always made sure to splurge on supplies at the end of the month so that their father could make the dishes properly and bring some joy to his life. Something to hold onto from his human days.

One time, he remembered, Leonardo had a complaint about the dish Splinter had presented (hiyashi chūka, if Michelangelo was remembering right) and Splinter just about blew a gasket.

“You will eat what I served you..” the old, angry rat had said to his then twelve year old son, “...or you will eat nothing at all!”

Michelangelo carried a similar mentality into his cooking, though he’d always switch to Doctor Feelings before dinner to get everyone’s recommendations, and if they still complained even after the alterations were made, then Doctor Delicate would come out to play.

“Not all of us have your iron stomach, dad.” Twelve year old Leonardo had argued back to his father, to which Donatello had added:

“Only one of us did, actually.”

Then all eyes had turned to thirteen year old Raphael, who was onto his third bowl and was absolutely demolishing it with a savage, starving ferocity.

“RAPH STILL HUNGRY!” The teen had spat before throwing one of their good bowls at the wall, which earned him a time out (and also more soup to keep him content).

But that was then, and this was now. Michelangelo was cooking a new recipe— a four cheese ravioli with marinara sauce and pepperonis. He remembered the New Brothers asking about something called Pizza Gyoza and he wanted to try it out for himself. It didn’t take him long to realize he was being watched. Still with a smile on his face, he turned to meet the spy.

“Hey!”

Mikey gave a yelp and tried to shrink back out of view around the corner. Michelangelo frowned and tilted his head as he left the ingredients to go investigate.

“Hey.” He repeated again, holding a patient hand out to his counterpart, “didja wanna help?”

Mikey seemed surprised by the offer. “I’m not a good cook.”

Michelangelo shrugged. “And I don’t know how to play the tuba— doesn’t stop me from practicing every Sunday night! Just ask Donnie.”

Mikey laughed, and it made Michelangelo smile to see the other him not so scared anymore. Through the laughter, Mikey sputtered out words that Michelangelo couldn’t quite make out, but it seemed to bring the speaker joy so he didn’t mind.

“So?” Michelangelo prompted after the giggle fest had run its course.

Mikey gave a few last giggles before he was still and sad once more. “Are you sure...? You don’t think I’ll ruin it?”

Michangelo took the older turtle around the shell and began to guide him to the counter.

“There’s no wrong way to mess up a recipe you’re making up! Besides, even if it’s bad, raph’ll eat it like it’s five star lobster! I don’t even think he can taste anymore.”

“Really?” Mikey gave a look that showed he didn’t quite believe, “my Raph’s really particular about what he’ll eat....”

Michelangelo snapped. “Ah, a picky eater! I got one of those! That’s why I gotta make Donnie’s portion separate on most nights. Splinter tried to use the ‘can’t leave the table until you eat it’ technique and Donnie say there for almost two days refusing to touch it before splinter gave in.”

Mikey whistled. “I don’t think I could go two hours without food...” he clutched at his stomach, ��let alone two days...”

Michelangelo gave a patient smile and patted Mikey’s shell to urge him closer to the counter. Mikey looked out over the perfectly laid out supplies, and then back nervously at the other.

“W... what are you making?”

“What do you think?” Michelangelo motioned to the ingredients. “Take a guess!”

Mikey narrowed his eyes as he took a second look. Several jars of Marinara, four different cheeses laid out... pepperonis and meat-cutting scissors... flour, salt, eggs, olive oil...

“Are... you making pizza gyoza?” Mikey could feel his stump of a tail beginning to wag excitedly at the thought of the soft, cheesy goodness of the treats his friend murikami often made for them.

Michelangelo tisked his tongue and bopped his other on the nose. “Close~ I’m making my own version! The best chef can improvise with what he has in his kitchen! The gyoza you described would be put in a dumpling, but this one will be improvised to fit in a ravioli! I could have done the traditional gyoza, but I like putting my own spin on things! It’s gonna be a four cheese ravioli with pepperonis mixed in and topped with marinara sauce! I call it Mikey’s Masterpiece!”

Mikey could feel his mouth running at the thought and swiped his tongue across his lips. “Sounds tasty...”

Michelangelo nodded, almost about to open his mouth to offer more praise before he saw that the poor mutant was still looking nervous and unsure.

“Here,” Michelangelo slid over several cups of flour and a measured amount of salt. “Mound them on the the counter and Make a well.”

Mikey poured the ingredients in the table and stared at them for a few seconds before Michelangelo recognized his mistake.

“Oh! Mm. We’re gonna make... a lake! See, the flour and salt will be our sand and the wet ingredients...?”

“Will... be our water?” Mikey offered tentatively.

“Exactly! So make the sand, but leave space in the middle so we can put in our water!”

“Oh!” Mikey giggled as he began to make a surprisingly well-crafted well, “this is fun!”

Michelangelo let the turtle have his fun before bringing over his egg mixture and offering it.

“Your ‘Water’ my liege~”

Mikey took the bowl and, after an encouraging nod from his other, carefully poured the mixture into the center.

Michelangelo cleared his throat. “OH NO! The tides coming in!”

Mikey gasped.

“And it’s taking a bunch of sand back with it!” He knew lakes didn’t really have a tide, but it worked for the euphemism. He took his hand and swiped some of the flour into the liquidy center. “Do you know how tides work, Mike?”

Mikey shook his head, his eyes in awe as he imagined the water cutting across the Sandy shores and taking them away into the cold depths.

“Well, tides come in a little at a time, so they can only take a little sand at a time.” Michelangelo explained, “and then!” He began to mix the liquid around with his hand, “the waves all get crazy in the middle and have a party! Now the tides gonna take even more sand! You try!”

Mikey knocked some of the sand into the mixture and, when he wasn’t scolded for doing something wrong, he began to carefully mix it. Michelangelo guided him through the rest of the steps until the ingredients were all mixed into a soft, doughy ball.

“What now?” Mikey giggled— his face and hands were now coated in flour to add to his genuine enjoyment of the activity.

“Now: feel how it’s all gooey-ooey?”

“Ya!” Mikey poked the dough.

“That’s like mud!”

“Mud?”

“After it rained all day and the earth got soft! But it’s January! What happens when night comes?”

Mikey scratched his head. “It gets all cold...”

“Aaaand...?”

“And the mud freezes!”

“Exactly!” Michelangelo folded the dough safely in plastic wrap and put it in the fridge. “So now it’s night!”

“So we go to sleep?”

“No silly! We’re ninja! We stalk the nights!”

“We own the night!”

“Exactly! So let’s own the night and keep busy while the dough freezes!” Michelangelo hummed as he looked over the cheeses. He took a handful and showed it to Mikey. “See these?”

“Cheese?” Mikey took a piece and ate it happily.

“No! It’s not cheese its... mystic crystals! Do you have those in your world?”

“No.” Mikey gaped, “Well, there was this one time that April got an evil Crystal from an alien planet. Does that count?”

“No. These are mystic crystals! They take on the properties of whatever they’re added to!”

“It just looks like cheddar to me...”

“That’s exactly what it wants you to think.” Michelangelo winked. “Now, we’re gonna make a magic potion with our mystic crystals!”

“What does the potion do?”

“It’s a... warmth potion! For when you’re cold! So we gotta add a lot of heat for it to form proper!”

Michangelo put a skillet on the stove and added olive oil, half a fan of marinara, and garlic. He offered a cup of heavy cream to Mikey, who promptly took a sip before pouring the rest of it into the concoction— it was going to get boiled anyway, so it shouldn’t matter. After a few minutes of standing over the heat, Michelangelo offered his friend the cheese.

“Now is the time to add the crystals— slowly!” He quickly added as Mikey went to pour the whole thing, “we don’t want the crystals to be on top of each other! They need to melt for the potion to work!”

Mikey nodded and obeyed, and while he did, Michelangelo started to warm up the rest of the marinara on a separate pan and preheat the oven. He checked in quickly on the brewing potion and removed it from the heat once it was ready, taking a wooden spoon to scoop up a small bit and taste before offering the rest to Mikey. The box turtle practically melted as the heat overtook his body in a pleasant mix of sauce and cheese.

“Mmmmm...” he moaned softly, “that’s really good!”

Michelangelo grinned, and began to sprinkle some pepperonis in and begin to mix it around. “Oh good other of mine~! I think it’s daaaaawn!”

Mikey gasped and hurried over to the fridge and pull out the flattened dough, giving it a poke. “It wooooorked...”

“Now! Roll it on the table, quick!” He tossed Mikey a rolling pin, “before the dough worms come out!”

Mikey’s jaw fell open. “The whaaaaat?”

“THE DOUGH WORMS! They live in cold dough and steal all the flavor! Now hurry and smoosh them before they can escape with the taste!”

“OH NO!” Mikey slammed the dough on the table and began to roll it out.

“No thicker than a nickel— the worms are really small and can survive otherwise!”

“I WONT LET ANY OF THEM ESCAPE!”

Mikey did an excellent job of flattening out the dough into a large, thin sheet. After reassuring him he had gotten all the ‘dough worms’, Michelangelo carefully cut the sheet in half and began to lay his cheese mixture.

“See these?” He held up the spoonful of the mystic potion, “when mystic potion is added to dough and boiled, it’s affects increase tenfold!”

“Ooooo!”

“So put them in piles like so...” Michelangelo began to lay out spoonfuls an inch apart, “so we can make a bunch and share it!”

“Good idea! We all need to stay warm and toasty!” Mikey grabbed another spoon and began to help.

With the playful assistance of Mikey, they had finished making the ravioli within two hours and Michelangelo let Mikey serve to to the hungry brothers.

“Mmm...” Leonardo moaned almost sensually at the explosive taste in his mouth. “This is really good.”

Leo had been hesitant at first when he found out it had been Michelangelo preparing the dinner, but a quick sight test showed nothing awry. A smell test yielded only a warm fragrance, and lastly a taste test...

Leo’s eyes shot open and he was sure they had fallen from his sockets in his surprise. One small nibble had turned into swallowing the chopstick-ful whole and almost purring in delight as the warm, perfect mix of sauce and cheese and dough rolled down his throat. Once their brother had taken the dive, Raph and Donnie exchanged shocked glances and began to scarf down their shares as if they hadn’t eaten in days.

Mikey didn’t open his mouth, except to eat his extra tasty dinner of course. Just seeing his brothers happily scarfing down something that he’d made was more than enough.

[mygalfriday]

Things you always meant to say but never got the chance

Coaxed you into paradise and left you there 

{ao3}

Despite the many interruptions, he hopes he has actually managed to salvage the first night of their honeymoon. The unwelcome reminder – in the form of their future selves – of how finite their time together is has only made him more desperate to make this evening perfect. River deserves that and more.

She’d changed despite his insistence she never needed to, exchanging her prison uniform for something flouncy and flirtatious that makes his fingertips itch. She’s close enough to touch but he doesn’t, twirling his top hat between his hands and watching out of the corner of his eye as she helps herself to some more chips. The stars are set to appear any moment now and her gaze is pinned to the sky, waiting for the impressive show he’d promised her.

It’s a marked change from the woman who had been so determined to seduce him in the TARDIS and he fidgets anxiously, secretly wanting a bit of that back but unsure how to get them there. River has always been the instigator and he’s at a loss now that she’s so terribly young and it’s his turn to lead. He grips his hat in one hand and lifts the other to straighten his bowtie, inching a bit closer where they’ve settled on a massive tree branch.

Clearly still as alert to his every move as she’d been as Mels, River glances at him out of the corner of her eye the moment he so much as twitches in her direction. When she notices him hovering, she places a protective hand over her chips and says, “I told you to get your own, sweetie.”

He frowns. “First of all, River Song,” he says, wagging a finger at her and refusing to soften at the way her eyes light up when he uses her name. “I wasn’t trying to steal your chips. And second of all, are you telling me you wouldn’t share? On our honeymoon?”

She whirls to stare at him, blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders and her eyes wide. “Honeymoon?” She laughs once, strained and nervous. “We’re not married.”

He squints at her, fearing for a moment he’d picked up the wrong River. But no, he’d gotten her on her first night in prison – she’d said so herself. So she must have already done Area 52. “Of course we’re married.” He waves a hand, gesturing between them. “There was a bowtie and a kiss-”

River interrupts him in the middle of his kissy-face impression, still eyeing him incredulously. “Yes, where you were a robot. In a timeline that no longer exists. I’ll hardly hold you to it, Doctor.” She smiles when he merely stares at her, the expression somehow unbearably sad despite the softness in her eyes. “You think I didn’t notice in all my research of you how often you get married and swan off, never to see your poor lovestruck bride again?”

“I haven’t swanned off,” he points out, wounded despite the truth of her words. River is different. Surely she knows that. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Of course you are.” She reaches out a hand, patting his bowtie fondly. “I’m the child of your best friends.”

He stares at her. “You think I married you out of guilt?”

“There are worse reasons to get married.” With a shrug, she turns back to the night sky spread out before them and her hand drops from his bowtie to reach for another chip. “But it wasn’t a real marriage, remember? You’re off the hook.”

“River,” he sighs, tugging at his hair. Why is she making him do this? Doesn’t she know he’s rubbish at this? “I don’t want to be off the hook. I want-” Blimey, what does he want? Twelve hundred years old and he still has no idea. He just knows that whatever this is – sitting here, bickering and pretending he doesn’t want any of her chips – he wants every last terrifying moment of it. With her. “I want -”

The sky lights up over their heads, brilliantly illuminated with the glow of a billion stars. It brightens their surroundings like sunlight. Ordinarily, this natural phenomenon wouldn’t be enough to distract him from the issue at hand but River tips up her face to stare at it like she’s never seen anything so wondrous. Her eyes widen and the most beautiful smile bursts to life on her face. It’s a thousand times more distracting than any star has ever been. The Doctor finds himself caught, gazing at her like a new Time Lord staring at his first planet.

Without looking away from the view above, River nudges the plate of chips toward him. A peace offering. The Doctor grins and ignores them, leaning in to press a smacking kiss to her cheek. She swats him, turning her head to seek out a proper snog. He sinks into her with a sigh, fingers finding her wild curls, and doesn’t stop to wonder why he feels like he’s forgotten to say something important.  

-

He knows what he feels. He has known what he feels for far longer than he’d ever admit to any version himself. He hasn’t said the words since he was a young man on Gallifrey, unburdened by loss and the weight of ages. He might have said them once or twice to Susan when she was a child. The point is, it has been so long that the words don’t even feel tangible anymore – nothing but brittle bones and dust taking up space at the base of his throat. He worries if he tries to say them now, nothing will escape but ash.

He isn’t stupid enough to do nothing and merely hope River understands through osmosis but those words aren’t enough. They’re imaginary and ephemeral, easily lost and forgotten in this wide, unknowable universe. So many days he and River will spend apart, separated by space and time – yearning across worlds. He wants River to remember, even when she forgets everything else. He wants River to have more than brittle words.

So he gives her memories. Big, flashy, unforgettable memories that could cast a giant neon sign across the universe in 50 foot capital letters. You. Are. Loved. Stevie Wonder sings it for her under London Bridge; mysteriously inspired poets pen her sonnets; da Vinci sketches her likeness in La Scapigliata. Sunflowers remind him of her and he scatters seeds all over the fields of Spain so every summer people flock there to admire her beauty; he goes back in time and leaves notes throughout history for her to find during her excavations; he takes lessons with Julia Child and Fernand Point so he can make all her favorite dishes. He makes love to her at the start of the universe and the end of it so their love is a bookend to the beginning and the end of everything.

He never asks her if she understands what he isn’t saying. Instead he smiles when she finds another of his surprises and drinks in her laugh when he spins her around another ballroom, hoping she sees it for what it is. Not a showy distraction from a magician, but the last precious coin from a penniless man. All he has to offer. Someday, he might dust off those meagre words humans so love to abuse and see if he can make them shine again – make them pretty enough to deserve her – but for now, surely all this is enough? It must be.

-

Despite her hesitance around them, children gravitate naturally towards River. He thinks it must be the hair. There is no other possible explanation for why they’re all gathered around her when he’s the one sitting by the bonfire introducing these people to the roasted marshmallow about ten thousand years too early. Considering himself a bit of an expert on the subject, he appoints himself the overseer of their technique, teaching the locals how to get the outside nice and crisp without making the insides a gooey mess.

Most of them are understandably fascinated but every time the Doctor looks up in search of his wife, he finds her sitting just to the left of all the excitement and surrounded by a group of tiny humans. A few of them sit at her feet, two sit on either side of her, one stands behind her poking curiously at her hair, and another seems to have made himself a nice comfy home on her lap. To her credit, River isn’t as horrified by all the attention as she used to be when she was younger.

She seems to be telling them all a story, judging by enraptured looks on their faces and the way River keeps leaning in close like she always does when imparting a secret. Unable to conceal his grin, the Doctor puts the nearest villager in charge of marshmallow roasting and slips away to investigate. As he gets closer, the soft murmur of River’s voice becomes clearer until he can make out exactly which story she’s regaling her audience with.

“And of course, because he’s a man he thinks he always knows exactly where he’s going but he never does. None of them do.” She offers them all an exasperated look, as though inviting them to commiserate with her on the hopelessness of men. Every single little girl in the group nods sagely. “Now, who do you think actually found the gemstone and restored the High Chancellor to his natural form?”

One of them ventures confidently, “You did!”

River beams. “And don’t you forget it.”

Shaking his head and biting back a smile, the Doctor folds his arms over his chest and attempts to look cross. “Just so we’re clear, I did know exactly where I was going, River Song. I was… testing you.”

She glances up, apparently unsurprised to find him eavesdropping. “And the part where you twisted your ankle in the mines and I had to carry you for five miles back to the TARDIS?” She smiles innocently. “Was that part of the test too?”

“Yes. No.” He scowls, dropping his arms to his sides. “Shut up. Dear.”

River grins and he leans in, bopping her fondly on the nose. She turns her head coyly away when he tries to kiss her, teasing, “Not in front of the children, honey.”

“Ah. Right.” He turns to their rapt audience, pasting on a nervous grin. “Oi you lot, you’re missing out on all the sweets.” He claps his hands together, watching them scramble to their feet. “Off your pop, before your parents eat them all.”

Only the little one on River’s lap refuses to budge, curled up there like he belongs. The Doctor sighs, giving up on stealing a kiss for the moment as he settles onto the log beside his wife. Elbows on his knees, he peeks at her through his fringe and confesses, “I wasn’t actually testing you.”

River spares him an exasperated glance, preoccupied with the toddler currently clinging to the front of her shirt. “I know, sweetie.”

“And the whole carrying me thing was a tiny bit…” He risks a glance at their tiny audience and whispers, “Sexy.”

She rolls her eyes. “I know, sweetie.”

“Right. Good.”

He thinks about offering to fetch her a marshmallow but the sight of her hesitantly dropping a hand to stroke the little tot’s hair from his forehead stops the Doctor in his tracks. Despite her reticence, she’s a natural with kids. She always knows what to do, even when she doesn’t seem to trust her own instincts. He’s sure her hesitance must come from her own unusual upbringing and the complete lack of parental figures who didn’t have an eyepatch and a villainous agenda but he finds himself wishing she would give herself more credit. She knows what kids need – even if only because they need the things no one ever gave her.

Elbowing her gently, he says, “You’re good with them.”

River scoffs, glancing away. “I’m really not.”

“Could have fooled me.” He shrugs, studying the boy with sleepy eyes still clinging to her. “He seems very fond of you.”

River glances down at the boy, biting her lip. “I probably just look like someone he knows.”

“Someone else with this hair?” He plucks at a curl fondly. “Impossible.”

River swats at him, adorably and uncharacteristically flushed. The Doctor chooses not to mention it, watching in silence the way she cradles the boy to her and bounces him a bit in her arms to nudge him gently to sleep. Not for the first time, he thinks she’d probably make a brilliant mother if she wanted to be. He wonders briefly if she does want it. Maybe she does and just hasn’t said anything. What if he brought it up? Would she want it, if he offered?

Could he offer?

No. Of course not. It’s a terrible idea. The universe would come after any child of the Doctor and River Song. It would hardly be fair to ask a tiny little being to carry the weight and hatred of an entire universe. Besides, their lives are hardly the right environment in which to raise a child – what with the running and the prison and the timey-wimey-ness of it all.

But… if River really wanted it he might consider it in spite of all that. He might even sort of fancy the idea. He can’t ever see himself sitting still long enough to have a proper family life but the image of a miniature version of him and River asking for bedtime stories and refusing to eat their vegetables and begging for another trip to the intergalactic zoo? With anyone else, the very notion would send him running far and fast but with River it’s… Well. He’s grown to like all sorts of things so long as River is involved.

“Matteo?”

The Doctor lifts his head, snapping back to the present just in time to watch a woman – the boy’s mother, probably – lift the sleeping tot out of River’s arms with a murmur of thanks. River nods stiffly, watching the woman cradle her baby and sway with him toward the warmth of the bonfire. The ache of her longing is clear in her eyes.

The Doctor swallows, wanting nothing but for that look to disappear. Wanting her to have everything it’s within his power to give her. “You know, we could-”

“Doctor? We’re out of marshmallows!”

He sighs. “I warned them about rationing.”

River turns to him with a smirk, oblivious to what he’d been about to offer. “I’ll fetch some more from the TARDIS.”

“Thanks, dear.” He finally steals that kiss he’d been after, smiling as she slips away. The courage to ask her what had been on his mind goes with her. He never finds the nerve to bring it up again.

-

After they lose her parents, River spends most of her time in her study writing the book that will start it all. He knows he isn’t strong enough to be of any assistance to her, far more apt to make suggestions like taking the manuscript and pitching it into a black hole, but he also knows River would likely rebuff any offers of help from him right now anyway. She’s avoiding him.

The Doctor can’t blame her. He’s hardly been desirable company in recent days. All these centuries knocking about the universe and he’s still that same selfish old man he’s always been, mourning the loss of his Ponds as though he’s the only one who has lost something. River deserves far better than a selfish mad man like him but apparently she isn’t going anywhere despite his many faults and foibles. It’s this strange, terrible combination of guilt and gratitude, contrition and devotion that finds him standing outside the door to her study holding a cup of tea and listening to the soft click of typewriter keys coming from within the room.

“River?”

Balancing the cup in the palm of one hand, he raps his knuckles softly against the door. The typing doesn’t even pause. He sighs, nudging the door open with his hip and peering inside. The hinges creak but River doesn’t glance up, typing away as though he hasn’t interrupted. Reluctant to intrude on her space without permission after all the things he has said and done recently, the Doctor hovers in the doorway and wraps his fingers around the warm ceramic of the mug he’d brought her.

“I made tea.”

Again, she doesn’t look up from her notes. Pencil between her teeth, she taps her fingers against the keys of her typewriter and says, “Thanks.”

Figuring this may well be the closest he’ll get to permission to approach, the Doctor shoves off the doorframe and picks his way across the floor – careful not to step on the crumpled wads of paper scattered everywhere that River must have tossed in various pits of pique. He settles the mug on the corner of her desk, within reach if she wants it but not so close she’ll accidentally knock it over with an elbow. His job done, he lingers beside her desk uncertainly. She hasn’t asked him to leave but she’s hardly rolled out the welcome mat either.

Squirming, the Doctor touches a fingertip to a stack of field journals and ventures hesitantly, “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” comes the short, clipped reply. “I’ll be done soon and then I’ll go.”

He lifts his head from scrutinizing the contents of her desk, frowning. “Go?”

“Hmm.”

River lifts her glasses from the top of her head, relocating them to the bridge of her nose. Usually the sight of her in them does funny things to his insides but today, he only feels a cold knot of dread beginning to tighten in the pit of his stomach. Why hadn’t he noticed how tired she looks? She isn’t dressed to impress anyone today, wearing a pair of leggings and one of Rory’s old jumpers. He thinks the fuzzy socks on her feet might have belonged to Amy once. Her wild curls are piled on top of her head but keep spilling over her forehead every time she bends to peer at her notes. There are new lines of weariness around her eyes and mouth, a dullness to her gaze he has never seen before. And she still hasn’t looked at him.

The Doctor swallows, inching closer. “Actually I wanted to ask if you were hungry. I could cook…” He brightens. “Or we could have dinner somewhere. Anywhere you like, Professor Song.”

She shakes her head. “I need to get this done.”

He scoffs. “There’s plenty of time to finish it-”

“Not if you want me out of your hair sooner rather than later.” She sighs when he goes still, staring at her in silence. Her eyes remain locked on her half-finished manuscript. “It has to be done now.”

Studying her clenched jaw and the tightly contained way she holds herself – so very still, as though the slightest wrong move might make something explode in her face – the Doctor begins to understand he might have buggered things up quite a bit more than he’d realized. “What makes you think I want you out of my hair?”

Despite her every attempt to appear unaffected, the words slip out with an incredulous huff of laughter. “You mean besides your every word and action in the last week?”

He flinches. “River, no. I didn’t mean-”

She sighs, the bitterness slipping away like it had never been. At times it alarms him how easily she forgives his transgressions. Taking off her glasses and letting them clatter to her desk, River pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes for a moment. Gathering patience, though she probably thinks he doesn’t know what she’s doing. As if he doesn’t know all of her little tells by now, even the ones he pretends he doesn’t see.

“I know you didn’t,” she says, and the sound of her voice is more familiar to him now. Soft. Warm. Forgiving. He really doesn’t deserve her. She lifts her head and finally meets his worried gaze since the first time he walked into her study. The utter lack of light in her eyes scares the hell out of him. “But it’s clear you need space. So I’ll finish the manuscript and I’ll go.”

“Stay,” he insists, bracing himself with his hands against the edge of her desk. He leans in toward her, forcing a smile. “We’ll pay Vastra and Jenny a visit. Or we’ll go to Egypt and see how the pyramids are coming along, eh? Get married again while we’re there – how’s that?”

“Doctor,” she begins, and he hates it when she says his name like that. It sounds like no. “I’m not going to stay just because you don’t want to be alone.”

He pushes off her desk with a low growl. “That’s not what this is.”

“Isn’t it?” The amount of resignation in her patient voice is maddening. “It’s alright, honey. We’ll go our separate ways for a while and I’ll pop round to see how you’re faring after I get back.”

“Back?” Pacing to her bookshelves across the room and preparing to pout a bit and possibly make childish comments about the amount of archeology texts she owns, the Doctor scowls and prods irritably at a scroll wedged between suspiciously authentic looking manuscripts of Macbeth and The Importance of Being Earnest – stolen, no doubt. “Back from where?”

Already sliding her glasses back on and returning her attention to her notes, River mutters absently, “I got an invitation to lead the first expedition to the Library planet. Thought I might go – get my mind off things.”

The Doctor goes cold. That slowly growing and widening knot of dread in the pit of his stomach yawns open like a black hole. He grips the edge of a bookshelf until his knuckles turn white and the wood begins to creak beneath his fingers, threatening to splinter. With his back turned to her, River doesn’t see the way the blood drains away from his face. The way his mouth can only silently form no over and over again until it doesn’t even feel like a real word anymore. It screams in his head anyway, blaring like a siren until it loses some of its power with repetition and he feels just as helpless as he had the day he watched her die.

No.

Not yet.

He just watched an ending unfold right before his eyes. He cannot – will not – do it again. He will not lose another precious person to this goddamned thief called Time. The pain of losing the Ponds is still raw and fresh in his mind, reminders of them at every turn and memories lurking like ghosts out of the corner of his eye. It hurts now; and it always will. He has lost companions before. It always feels like this; like being ripped open and left to bleed out. It heals eventually, despite all his best intentions to cling to his grief. Another scar to bear in his long, lonely life.

But this, he knows, would break him.

“Don’t pout, sweetie,” she says, mistaking his silence for something else. Still typing away like she hasn’t destroyed his whole world. “Far better we have some time to ourselves than stay together and say more things we don’t mean.”

He won’t lose her. The only solution is to change it. The Doctor lifts his head, resolve slipping down his spine like cold steel. Not one line echoes in his head but he pushes it away with a grim smile. “I meant them.”

The typing stops. “What?”

“What I said when we lost Amy.” He doesn’t turn to look at her yet, struggling to school his features into something expressionless and cold – the mighty Time Lord instead of the devastated husband. It’s easier when he can’t see the look on her face. “If you hadn’t told her to go -”

River’s voice grows brittle. “She’d be here and miserable without my father.”

“She’d be here.” Clenching his jaw, the Doctor forces himself to turn from the bookshelf and face her properly. River sits utterly still at her desk, staring at him like he’s a particularly bad dream she’s waiting to wake up from. “And that’s really what it comes down to in the end, wife. If not for you, my Amelia would still be here.”

In the silence of the room, he can hear the hitch in River’s breath.

He directs his gaze elsewhere before he can see her eyes begin to water, glaring at a spot in the carpet instead. His hands tremble and he clenches them into fists, forcing the words out around the lump in his throat. “How can you expect me to look at you, knowing you’re the reason we lost them both? If you’d been quicker or cleverer or just… more. I expected better of you.” He stops when he sees her flinch out of the corner of his eye, unable to bear hurting her for another second with such poisonous lies. His eyes begin to burn and he snaps out, “I can’t wait for you to finish the manuscript. Go now. And take your bloody book with you.”

He stalks from the room before she can say a word and he doesn’t dare look at her as he leaves, knowing the moment he sees her face he’ll drop to his knees and beg forgiveness. So he walks and he walks until his vision blurs and the TARDIS opens a door, letting him stumble into a room at the end of the corridor.

Their bedroom. Of course.

With a growl, the Doctor picks up the nearest thing to hand – one of River’s high heels – and hurls it at the wall. It cracks the plaster and he stares at the split along the wall, his chest heaving and his eyes burning. In the ensuing silence, there is only the rasp of his shaky breathing and the sound of River’s footsteps as she leaves.

-

It’s only standing in his tomb with her ghost in front of him that he understands he had certainly changed things that day in the TARDIS – just not how he’d hoped. River still went to the Library; she still died in his place and wound up trapped in the data core. The only thing he had changed was letting her die believing he blamed her. Believing he didn’t love her.

Cradling her face in his hands, he looks into her eyes and realizes this may very well be his last chance to tell her all the things he’d never had the chance to say to her before. So many of those things seem pointless now. What does it matter that he’d always considered Area 52 their wedding day or that he would have given her children if she’d only asked? What does it matter if he never once blamed her for what happened to her parents or that he loves her so much he chokes on the words every time he tries to say them? It’s too late for any of it to matter now.

She’s gone and he’s looking at an echo.

River doesn’t ask him to say any of those things anyway. She wants something far more difficult to give. A goodbye.

“Say it like you’re going to come back.”

And it’s this – the thing he wants desperately to refuse to ever say – that he doesn’t have the hearts to deny her. Mouth full of lost opportunities and a lifetime of regrets, the Doctor swallows it all back with a smile. “See around, Professor River Song.”

[ulalumewitch]

this was originally inspired by the prompt “The Pet” by @capriprompts … part 3 finally address the prompt proper and my version of it. hope you enjoy!

Author’s Note: This story deals with disappointments during the adoption process as well as references to parental deaths during childhood. Some readers may find this triggering. I hope I handled it with the care and sensitivity it deserves.

This is part 3 (and final part). The links to Part 1 and Part 2 are below:

https://ulalumewitch.tumblr.com/post/658329277505421312/betty-part-1

https://ulalumewitch.tumblr.com/post/658355318446800896/betty-part-1

(not sure why they both read “part 1” but i swear the second one is part 2. one day i’ll figure all this out - lol)

word count: 2,590

themes: angst and fluff

hope you enjoy - i just love these two.

“Betty: Part 3”

Damen frowned as he sat on a stool at the breakfast bar. He looked passed the living room and to the balcony. Autumn finally broke through the summer heat, but despite the chilly temperatures, Laurent had remained outside on the balcony. For over an hour.

He’d been there when Damen got home at dinner. Laurent refused to eat, stated he wasn’t hungry, and turned away from him. Damen didn’t push him. After eight years together he knew which battles to pick, and he knew if he picked this one, he would lose.

His stomach fluttered with nerves. Damen wanted to speak to Laurent about what was coming before it got here. He tapped his phone screen again. No new messages. Dammit, Jokaste.

The woman was always late. While he hated lying to Laurent these past few days, he felt it necessary. He’d never lied to him before and it wasn’t something he ever wanted to repeat. But he wanted this to be a surprise if only so that Laurent couldn’t argue himself out of it. This would be good for them. Damen was sure of it. Well ... mostly sure of it.

Damen opened up his text messages waiting for replies. The texts from the people he talked to most in his life waiting for responses he couldn’t muster himself to give at the moment.

Papa Theo - D. Kastor wants to host Thanksgiving this year. Don’t let him take over. You and Laurent are better hosts. I’m begging you. Do what you have to. If I have to eat salmon on crackers again instead of turkey because Jokaste thinks it’s en vogue or whatever her high snobby ass thinks, I’ll lose it. Thank you. Papa.

Auguste - Laurent keeps ignoring my calls. Everything okay?

Kastor - Bro, Knicks game next weekend?

Nik - Knicks game next weekend? Text Kas for info.

Nicaise - Tell Laurent to call Auguste before I kill them both.

Jokaste - I’ll text you once I’ve valeted with the package.

The text from Jokaste was from two hours ago. It was only a fifteen minute drive between their apartments. But Damen knew from experience if he pressured her she’d delay herself more.

But for the past few days Jokaste was oddly ... maternal. She’d listened without spewing unwanted advice and helped him find exactly what he wanted, pulling strings from a few of the charities she’d help fund over the years. He’d never been so happy she spent money and drank wine for a living.

His phone buzzed in his hand. Damen let out a shaking breath as the text from Jokaste finally came through: The eagle has landed. We’re on our way up.

Damen took a breath and replied back: Laurent is out on the balcony. Door is unlocked. If we’re still outside please wait in the office until I get you. He’s ... not himself right now.

Damen held his breath. It could go one of two ways with Jokaste. Either she would understand or she would say she was too busy and leave the surprise in the living room before walking out.

His phone buzzed: Ok

He let the breath he’d been holding out and resolutely walked around the breakfast bar and to the balcony. Damen opened the glass door and gritted his teeth against the blast of cold wind to his face. Laurent remained sitting in his chair, bundled up in a huge knit sweater, scarf, coat, and hat that left only his eyes visible. He didn’t move as Damen approached. Laurent didn’t even look at him.

Damen’s heart pounded in his chest. Did something else happen? Had he forgotten something important? He and Laurent never had a problem communicating until recently and it killed him. This had to end. And now.

“Laurent,” Damen said.

No movement. No glance of acknowledgement. Nothing.

The wind picked up and howled as if in warning from the gods themselves against the building. Damen grabbed a chair a swung it around directly in front of Laurent and then sat down. Two narrowed eyes of blue ice cut to Damen then.

“You’re blocking my view.”

“Laurent, I know this has been hard -“

“I’m not talking about this. Leave me alone.”

Damen took a breath. He was in a worse mood then he thought. Shit.

“Listen to me. Okay? Just listen.”

Laurent leaned back slightly and with a small flourish of his hand indicated for Damen to proceed before crossing his arms over his chest. Damen took a calming breath and looked away at the same view to steady himself.

“I don’t know how much you’re hurting, because I’m not you. But I’m hurting too. It’s difficult. It’s painful. It’s unfair, and ugly, and all of the things you hope to never experience,” Damen stated, “But we’ll get through this. We will have our family, Laurent. Yes, things are bleak right now but we can’t give up because somewhere out there is our son or daughter. Maybe they’re not born yet, maybe they are. But we don’t give up because that’s not what we do.

“We didn’t give up on each other. Hell, you spent your entire inheritance to start a firm with a man you weren’t even married to yet. You helped raise your younger brother when you were still technically a child yourself because the worst nightmare for children happened. You fought your way through school and internships all while spending hours volunteering with children’s programs when most of us in law school could barely keep up with the average demands. You are a fighter, Laurent. You can’t give up now. Please, don’t give up now.”

Laurent’s eyes flickered for a moment as he regarded Damen silently. He didn’t move a single muscle. He also didn’t respond.

Damen took in a shuddering breath, “I love you. I’m sorry life isn’t as we want it right now. I will keep fighting for it, but I need you with me.”

Laurent still looked at him with cool neutrality as he asked, “Where were you this week, Damianos?”

Damen’s heart lurched in his chest. Oh God ... Damen had known better than to lie to Laurent. But he did it anyway because he’d been giddy at the thought of the surprise now waiting for them in their apartment. Apparently Laurent’s foul mood had been exacerbated because of him. Goddammit this was not how he wanted this to go either.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

Damen cleared his throat, “I’m sorry I lied to you. But if you come inside I’ll show you why. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Laurent huffed, “I’m not in the mood for surprises or apologies. Now, leave me alone.”

“No.”

Laurent’s nostrils flared as he shot up and gracefully moved around him to the door. Damen cursed under his breath as he went after Laurent. Before he could think he caught his arm as they entered the living room.

“Let go,” Laurent growled.

“I was with Jokaste,” Damen surged ahead, “I needed her connections to get something for you and me to expand our family in a different way until our child comes home.”

Laurent stilled. Damen immediately let go of his arm.

Laurent turned, his blue eyes glittering with fury, as he hissed, “What did you do?”

Damen ignored the churning in his stomach and called out, “Bring her out, Jokaste.”

From the other side of the apartment the sound of heels clicking against the floor echoed around them. Then, Jokaste came into view. Her gold hair pulled back, her makeup made her look more devastatingly beautiful than was natural. Her designer clothes understated but somehow still reeked of money - and in her arms she held a basket with pink padding. And within that, a small puppy yipped happily, wagging her tail.

Damen looked at his husband. Laurent’s mouth hung slightly open, eyes wide and staring. Damen took a step closer to him until they were nearly touching but not quite.

Damen murmured, “She’s a King Charles Beagle mix. Her owners were older and couldn’t care for her so they put her up for adoption. She’s twelve weeks old, spayed, up to date on vaccines, and mostly housebroken. Jokaste put word out to the charities for animal adoption she’s helped fundraise for over the years, and then one of her connections emailed her about this beauty. I’ve been meeting with Jokaste to spend time with the puppy and then more recently to finish paperwork on her, as well as visit dog training centers and to research their puppy programs.”

He stopped. Laurent still didn’t respond, though he’d since closed his mouth, his eyes on the puppy in the basket. The white and tan puppy yipped excitedly seeming only to have eyes for Laurent. Damen’s chest ached slightly ... it was like she knew.

“I wanted to talk to you about it earlier but you needed time alone,” Damen whispered, “I’m sorry. I wanted it to be a little bit of a surprise but not this much. Also, if you don’t want her I understand. Jokaste will keep her instead so she’ll have a good home. But ... but I thought it would be nice for us to have a pet to take care of, to start expanding our family this way until ... until we can get what we want. She’s part beagle, so I imagine she’ll utterly lose her mind with happiness on the farm. But again, Laurent, if it’s too much, Jokaste will take her home, no questions asked. It’s up to you.”

Laurent swallowed and Damen heard his throat click as he did so. His face unreadable as he took a step towards Jokaste and the puppy. As he walked towards her, Damen stayed in place, but didn’t suppress the smile as the puppy began to yip louder, and bounced on her front paws the closer Laurent got to her.

“She’s high energy,” Jokaste murmured, “But she does love to cuddle. I think she likes you.”

Laurent remained silent as he brought his fingers up to the puppy. She immediately began to lick them, her tail wagging at such a rate Damen wondered if it possible for the thing to fly off of her. Then, tentatively, Laurent stroked her head. The puppy stopped bouncing but remained with her eyes on Laurent, tail wagging, as he pet her. Damen’s gut lurched as he saw the slight tremor in Laurent’s hand every time he lifted it up to resume stroking her down her back.

Then Laurent picked her up and held her against his chest. The puppy reached up and licked his face. Laurent pursed his lips together but Damen swore a smile was there before he was assaulted with puppy kisses. He cradled her against him, her fur a stark contrast against the black coat he still wore.

When she settled Laurent looked at Damen. He felt Laurent’s stare go through him and straight into his soul.

“Her name is Betty Rue Vere-Akielon,” Laurent announced.

Damen grinned, “Your obsession with the Golden Girls prevails once again.”

Laurent looked at the puppy and whispered, “They are fierce and so are you.”

The puppy licked Laurent’s face happily in response yipping gleefully. Damen cut his eyes to Jokaste and she smiled softly at him.

“I’m going to go,” Jokaste stated, “Have a good evening.”

“Thank you,” Damen said.

She dipped her chin slightly in acknowledgement and left. Damen walked over to Laurent and sat next to him as he set Betty on the ground. The puppy ran over both of their legs as Laurent removed his scarf and jacket, discarding both on the floor behind them.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Damen whispered.

Laurent cut his eyes to him before focusing on the puppy again, and said, “Forgiven. I’m sorry I gave you the silent treatment.”

Damen huffed a laugh, “No you’re not.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Laurent’s lips and he said, “I missed having a dog. We had one when I was a little boy but she passed away just before our parents.”

Damen nodded and said, “They estimate she shouldn’t be more than twenty-five or thirty pounds. Both breeds are good with children. Training is a necessity. But, but I think she’ll fit in well.”

“She’s perfect,” Laurent cooed and picked her up again to hold her to his chest, and then looked at Damen, his smile finally wide and unrestrained, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Damen said, “I know this doesn’t fix anything, but I thought it would help.”

Laurent leaned closer to him and then pressed his lips softly to Damen’s. He closed his eyes and when Laurent went to retreat, grabbed the back of his head and kept their mouths firmly in place. Damen deepened the kiss, needing the contact, reveling in the taste of them together.

“I love you,” Damen whispered breathlessly, “I love you and I’m here for you. Through good times and bad.”

Laurent smiled softly, “I love you, too. Thank you for ... thank you.”

Damen slipped an arm around Laurent’s waist and pulled him closer. Laurent could talk circles around anyone. But when it came to expressing feelings, he still sometimes had difficulty. But Damen didn’t mind. Laurent loved Damen in ways that went well beyond the words, as it should be.

“Oops,” Laurent tittered, “Betty, darling, we must work on that bladder control. Come on, lets go for a little walk. Does she have a leash?”

Damen smiled, “Everything is stashed in the office, including a couple of different coats for her since it’s getting colder outside.”

Laurent snorted a little and stood up saying, “I’ll get her collar, leash, and coat on. You can clean up the mess.”

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Damen asked.

“Please tell me you bought her a collar and leash to distinguish her as the royalty she is and that it matches whatever clothing you got for her to wear,” Laurent called as he walked away from Damen without looking back or responding to his question.

Damen rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath before stating, “No, because I knew you’d hate anything I bought anyway.”

Laurent’s snort echoed as he made his way down the hall.

Damen smiled even as he cleaned up the puppy’s accident as he heard Laurent’s murmurs to the puppy, “Don’t worry, Betty, daddy is going to get you the most expensive collar, leash, and puppy coats money can buy. Papa doesn’t understand the importance of these things. What do you think pink with diamonds? Yes, I think so too ... or maybe a gold collar to compliment your white and tan coloring? Yes ... we’ll try a few on ...”

The pain of the rejection began to ease slightly in Damen’s heart. He knew it would take more time and more than a puppy for it to heal completely. But his gamble paid off and he reveled in the warm relief that coursed through his veins.

He and Laurent had work to do, but the dark cloud of anguish seemed to lift from over their heads. And as Damen put on his coat and grabbed Laurent’s from off the floor, he smiled as he walked down the hall as Laurent’s lament echoed loudly from the office, “Oh my God, was this made for peasant puppies? Nylon? Really?”

But Damen didn’t mind. He’d endure any cutting remarks on his sense of puppy fashion if it meant his beloved had a respite from his pain. Things weren’t perfect, but it was still a damn good place to be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ End of this Little Story

thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. They are one of the many ships I love to follow and write about. have a lovely day, morning, evening, night wherever you are! xo

[hopetofantasy]

Culture, parallels & meta - S3 E1

Previous season Prologue: Vlogs (1) - Vlogs (2)

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Zaterdag 21:43

The time lapse already showing us a string of places that will be important later, like the dark alley, the Meir with Noor’s workplace, the university neighborhood, the Scheldt river where the boys hang out, ...

Perfect parallel: 

The second season starts Zoë’s POV with a (washing machine) door, whilst the third opens with a door to a party that Robbe attends.

Robbe glances back at Noor passing through the shot this episode, an action he repeats when he spots Sander in the second episode. - A very subtle hint to where his love life may lead.

The first one starts with two unknown LGBT+ girls kissing at a party, the last episode shows two known LGBT+ boys (Sobbe) kissing at their own party.

The aerial shot through the floor to introduce us to Robbe’s POV here and the aerial shot through the roof to say goodbye to him in the last episode.

Moyo saying “No one would do you” to Aaron in this episode, Aaron realizing “No one here wants to do me!” in the last.

Where’s Wally? Noor greeting Marie, accompanied by Jana and Britt. Max dancing with Keisha in the crowd.

How ‘meta’ of you: Newsflash, yes you are!

Nod to the OG: 

The deliberate messy POV: following everyone that we know already and then slowly settling on the Isak version in a tub.

Robbe saying Noor looks like ‘Natalie Portman’, which is what people said to the OG Emma when they flirted with her. Everyone, except Isak, that is.

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Moyo keeps pressuring Robbe into explaining what type of girl he likes. The boys laugh it off when he answers that ‘he doesn’t have a type’.

Lost in translation: Moyo mocks Noor’s Dutch accent, making his ‘g’ and ‘st’ sound harsher, while also adding ‘hoor’ at the end - a typical word used by the Dutch to emphasize a point.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Jens is playing with the weed bag. Keisha is one of the girls that Moyo mentions as Jens’ ex-girlfriend or ex-fling. Not only did Noor nót flush the toilet, but she didn’t used any toilet paper either!

°

Zaterdag 22:44

C is for culture: 

Noor rescuing Robbe on her scooter - In Belgium, you’re allowed to drive a moped or scooter once you’ve reached the age of 16. Nothing is needed if the vehicle doesn’t go above 25 km/h. If it stays between the range of 25-45 km/h and max. 50 cc, you need to pass a theoretical exam, 4 hours of driver’s ed and a practical exam to get the license. Anything other than that, has a whole new set of restrictions, types of driver’s licenses and minimum ages.  Noor and Robbe are, however, still breaking the law. As long as you’re not 18, you’re not allowed to have an extra passenger with you. Especially if they’re not wearing a helmet. (Plus they ignored a red light. Those rebels!)

“You do know that you always have to have it with you?” - The Belgian law states that everyone above age twelve, has to get an ID to identify themselves. Some might have had a Kids-ID already - for travel purposes - but that’s not mandatory. However, once you're fifteen years old, you’re obligated to carry your ID with you at all times.

Perfect parallel:

Luca being all jealous whilst staring at Noor and Robbe making out in S3, her glaring at Maud and Robbe every chance she got in the last season.

Robbe and Noor having fun on the scooter while screaming and Robbe filming their adventure in this episode. Robbe and Sander doing a similar thing, but on their bikes in a later episode.

Wink to other remakes: Robbe sporting a brown jacket. (Eliott, anyone?)

Surprise bitch, guess who: It’s Willem Chanterie, the on-set costume designer and social media production assistant!

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Noor has a ‘Fuck Trump’ sticker on her helmet. Robbe says “Hey, it’s red” in a very clear Antwerp accent. 

°

Zaterdag 23:11

Hello from the outside: The garbage truck they sprayed, still drove around the city regularly. The art piece itself is named ‘#Genoeg mama' (= ‘#Enough mommy’). It blames the consumer society as toxic, making young people its victim.

Oopsie: Inside the graffiti den, Noor suddenly sports a tote bag with supplies, even though we never saw her wearing that in the previous shots.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Noor has black combat boots. The photographer is obviously Sander, in case you have missed that subtle clue.

°

Zondag 13:41

Lost in translation/Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: 

“Check die pekie’s”. The word ‘pekie’ is actually Amsterdam slang for ‘beautiful girl, girlfriend’. In recent years, more and more Dutch slang are making their way into the Flemish dialect, because of the Dutch rap songs gaining popularity with the youngsters.

“Vamos, flikkers”. The word ‘flikkers’ can mean ‘wussie’ as well as a derogatory term for ‘homosexual’. Again establishing the fact that the boys use a lot of homophobic or toxic words for each other.

Robbe’s clumsiness meter: +1, him tossing the bag behind Jens instead of into his hands.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: There is a football right next to the skateboards.

°

Maandag 16:04

C is for culture: “The whole art school was talking about it” - 

Secondary school is divided in four sections: general, technical, art and vocational. Which section you choose can have effect on further education. In one of these sections, you pick what you want to study from your first to last year (‘directions’). That means that you have some courses purely focused on the direction and others that are obligated for everyone, regardless.

Art high schoolers can choose to go to work or study a specialization afterwards. Their coursework isn’t solely art based, there are general required courses too. That’s why some foreigners - including the Dutch - come to Belgium, since they’ll get a more rounded and higher level of art education than in their countries. ‘de!KUNSTHUMANIORA’ is the high school in Antwerp Noor goes to and is known for having students with unique styles.

Perfect parallel: 

Noor waiting outside the school for Robbe and him reacting somewhat confused here, Sander doing the same and having an instantly happy Robbe in a later episode.

Robbe having no problem kissing a girl ‘as a straight guy’ in front of the gates in this episode and scared for what might happen if he kissed a boy ‘as a gay guy’ later on. 

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The insta caption underneath the art work says ‘An inspirational message on a Sunday! Just discovered this in Antwerp city today. Artist unknown... Can you remember when you last called on your mother?’ (That last sentence, oooofff, the symbolism!)

°

Dinsdag 14:57

C is for culture: 

“Yes, mini enterprises are so chill.” - Mini enterprises are often used as a tool for Economics in the fifth/sixth year. The goal of these is to ‘learn whilst doing it’. Like the name specifies, mini enterprises are actual miniature companies set up by a group of students. During the school year, they’ll try to work together on commercializing a product. All aspects of entrepreneurship are at play here: writing a business plan, holding meetings, doing bookkeeping, marketing the product, produce and sell it, ... If the enterprise idea is good or well executed, it might even win a national prize by the company making this education formula.

“What if he contacts child protection services” - Actually, those services doesn’t really exist in Belgium. There are, however, other youth organizations for these types of things, like JAC - Youth Advice Centre, CLB - Centre for Student Guidance and the Centre for Mental Healthcare.

Perfect parallel: The boys hyping Aaron up to walk over to Amber and talk to her - yet he fails in this episode, them doing the same and he succeeds (after some fails) in the last episode. 

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Jens saying “Damn, seems like someone is on his fucking period”, after Robbe snaps at him due to the difficult telephone call with his dad.

Lost in translation: Jens saying “Mijn kop staat er niet naar” (= “My head’s not standing there”) can actually mean different things: I’m not in the mood, it’s not the right time, I don't want to do it, my head’s all over the place, ... It depends on the context, on which interpretation would suit the situation the best. 

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The girls are all fawning all over Britt’s cellphone, so there is a good chance that they’re discussing (pictures of) her boyfriend, Sander. Also, Jana’s braces are gone! 

°

Donderdag 17:13

Perfect parallel: Robbe stating that he can’t talk to his dad or he’ll fight and Zoë getting that, as she said a similar thing to an understanding Senne about her parents in S2. 

How ‘meta’ of you: Ah, yes, fandom ship names in SKAM. We applaud!

Oopsie: If you look really hard, you see that the body type and hair of Robbe’s dad, doesn’t correspond with the version waiting at the restaurant later on.

Wink to other remakes: This shot reminding you of a certain S3 trailer?  👀

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The numerous references to Zoënne’s relationship in their room (relationship pics, Senne’s guitar). The paper Milan gifts to Robbe is the written permission by his parent to live with them, as is obligated by law.

°

Vrijdag 20:04

Perfect parallel: 

Senne pulling Zoë up after a kiss here, just like with their first kiss in S2.

Robbe pushing Milan away after thinking he wanted to kiss him at the party in S2, them hugging it out in after talking about it in S3.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Zoë and Milan making some healthy party snacks like cauliflower and cocktail sauce, cheese with tomatoes and salami squares. She pulls back the bottle of gin that Milan wants to steal. Senne also bought paprika and tortilla chips from Colruyt (a discount store).

°

Vrijdag 20:54

C is for culture: “Noor, Robbe’s girlfriend” - (Teen) dating culture is different in Belgium. Usually, if you have kissed, hung out, texted or just said/did something to show your mutual interest, you’d pretty much consider yourself in a relationship. It can go from 0 to 100 very quick. Unless there is, of course, an agreement that what you’re doing is no such thing. Also, nobody really ask you to be their gf/bf. It just implied or stated to their family or friends. 

Perfect parallel: 

A reluctant Robbe pushing himself to do stuff to Noor (playful dancing, kissing, riling her up) as far as putting his hands on her bra here. A totally different, excited Robbe not even thinking twice about doing these things to Sander, even licking his nipple during their reunion.

Noor pushing Robbe on the bed and climbing over him, whilst Robbe looks all sad in this episode. Him pushing Sander on the bed and being happy as Sander crawls over him during their reunion.

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Robbe tries to convince himself into liking heterosexual sex with Noor and fake laughs with his friends about having it.

Where’s Wally? Keisha laughing with Amber and later dancing with Marie.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Jens is talking to Senne. The decorations behind Milan saying ‘Welkom Robbe’ (= ‘Welcome Robbe’). Noor has a beautiful tattoo of a pin-up girl covered with butterflies on her lower arm.

[myriadlabrynth]

Kiridai vs Type of Girl They Like

With more explanation. All just my opinions, and headcanons (Not the most in depth analysis because they are overall self-explanatory)

Hanamiya - Stupid Girls

There are a few ways to look at this

We know from the light novel with Imayoshi(Chapter 6 of Replace V), and also the online-gaming drama cd(Knb Season 2 Drama Cd 4), Hanamiya puts up this facade as this friendly and humble guy. Whether this is something he does all the time or only sometimes, is up for debate.

A stupid girl would be someone who still falls for this facade. Since there are of course girls who already know what Hanamiya is really like. Unlike the early years of middle school, where most people thought Hanamiya was this nice kid, his reputation is now well known(he’s the “bad boy” for a reason). So all things considered, you might have to be really stupid, or just blissfully ignorant(so still stupid to Hanamiya)to fall for the facade still.

Another way to look at it is, you know how people say “Are you stupid?!” when they do something risky? Same type of deal here.

It’s not just with brains, it’s also a girl who is too brave to an idiotic degree. Or perhaps impulsive. Someone who stands up to him,who doesn’t quite know what they’re getting into when they confront him. It would be someone who did figure it out. They know Hanamiya is not a good person, but they were merely scratching the surface, and they’ll learn that eventually.

Either interpretation, it’s simply good entertainment for him really, especially the ecstasy he gets when the girl eventually realizes exactly who they are dealing with.

I think his type being “stupid girls” would imply he’s not really going into relationships, expecting anything serious? To give an exact quote from the knb 3ds game(knb: miracles to victory)in his conversation with Moriyama:(translation by grimmfeather)

“ I’m completely focused on basketball right now. I want to lay every moment of my high school years on the line, put my best foot forward every day, and win with the rest of my team… That’s why I don’t even have time to think about love and whatnot at the moment.”

(I haven’t actually heard the voice acting for this part, so idk if he said it in his fake nice persona, but regardless, most of this is probably half-heartedly said, especially the “best foot forward everyday and win with the rest of my team”, but the gist of it is true, about not thinking about love)

I think if he was actually serious, he would prefer someone with some degree of intelligence, not a complete lost cause. But who knows, life might/probably will throw him a curve ball.

Since he’s not expecting any relationship to go very far, he is caught off guard if/when one actually works out

Also side note, regarding the light novel with Imayoshi,  can I just say how concerning it is that Hanamiya has apparently been doing rough play since he was twelve years old???? And possibly earlier??

Seto - Intelligent Girls

The opposite of Hanamiya obviously. I mentioned that there are girls who already know what Hanamiya is like, regardless of the phony nice persona,  that is an example of who Seto would prefer.

Just someone who is smart enough to see through it(since Hanamiya’s nice act is apparently pretty convincing, though Seto saw right through it just like Imayoshi did), especially if it's a girl who is meeting Hanamiya for the first time and doesn’t know anything about him. The girls who do know Hanamiya’s nature, knew  from word of mouth, not from actually interacting with Hanamiya.

Seto isn’t really someone who wants to be in a relationship anytime soon, but Seto would see yet another girl who is fooled by Hanamiya and think “Well I know I wouldn’t want a girl that’s that dumb“ that would be why his preference is someone smart.

I mean I’m not saying that the only girls that Seto would be interested in are the ones who go through hanamiya first, but they would certainly intrigue him.

It’s interesting to think about what else Seto considers to be “marks of intelligence” though, since his intelligence is on another level.

Romantic or not, Seto generally is more drawn towards intelligent individuals.(which is part of why he has his eye on Imayoshi, according to Kurofes)He just likes having someone who he can have an intellectual conversation with, it's part of why he gets along well with Hanamiya. Simple small talk doesn’t really bode well, or won’t get you very far.

Cause the things he finds interesting, other people might not understand or know anything about.

Furuhashi - Masochists/Someone with Masochistic Tendencies

It reminds me of the shoujo manga Ookami Shoujo to Kuroo Ouji.Basically the guy is an ass to this girl, even when they start dating.

And the girl was described as a “Masochist”, because she puts up with the guy’s rude and sadistic tendencies. And basically one of the reasons why the relationship worked is because the girl kind of just accepted the way the guy was(and the guy ended up softening up on his own anyway). Other girls would run away or call him a jerk, and never try talking to him again. But this girl was persistent and stuck around and didn’t try to change him. The Guy just needed someone who would accept him for who he is, cause he was just the way he is.(a very watered down version of the manga, idk if i’d recommend it, but it’s out there.)

(Now that I think about it, the manga fits Hanamiya’s situation too...cause the guy puts up a kind “prince-like” facade, and finds enjoyment when the numerous girls he meets sees his true nature…..hm)

ANYWAY, this is how i’d describe Furuhashi’s preference as well. Him being a sadist is just the way he is, and he’s not going to change for anyone. He may soften up a bit, but he’ll be the same guy overall.

Masochist in this sense, would mean someone who would accept Furuhashi for who he is, a sadist. They wouldn’t expect him to change for them. Someone who will love him for him.

To actively choose to still be with him, despite everything may be considered “Masochistic”

He gets pissed when girls try to change him. When they think that just because they’re dating,he’s supposed to change who he is. Because he would think that the girl never actually loved “him”, they were just painting a fake version in their head and tried to make it a reality. Or mold him into their ideal boyfriend. I think Furuhashi has trust issues because of past experiences.

And yeah sure, we can also look at it in the typical sense as well (in a perhaps ‘nsfw’ type of way ) He gets great joy from the things he gets to do on the basketball team, and that he is able to get off scot-free. So of course he would want other means to be able to do similar things, when he eventually leaves basketball.

He’s intrigued at the idea that someone would enjoy being hurt(cause he’s used to being met with anger)

But I think there’s more to it than that.

Hara - Girls with Pretty Legs

Not much to it really. It means exactly what it says.

Interesting that Hara’s preference is the only one of Kiridai that is a physical attribute.

He’s actually one of four(I think) knb characters whose preference is physical attributes (the other ones are Aomine and Murasakibara, and kinda Tsugawa)

This would mean Hara is someone who is (usually) attracted to one’s appearance first, before their personality.

It’s really just legs that Hara finds to be pretty. Doesn’t have to be slender or anything like that.

Huge fan of thigh highs of course, especially when they’re visibly squeezing the thigh, even if it's barely(he’ll notice)

He's the type of guy who sees those pics of girls with thigh highs just barely squeezing the thighs, it’s barely noticeable, and says they’re “thicc”

If we’re thinking about personality traits that Hara would prefer, if there were any, it would be someone who is a bit laid back just like him.

Someone who understands his jokes, won’t be like a “stick in the mud”.

But at the same time, I can see Hara being interested in someone a bit more serious(not too much), because those people are more fun to mess with and tease lol

Yamazaki - Cheerful Girls

So pure…

A girl with an infectious smile. He would try his best and do all he can to see that smile over and over again. They would be a  ray of sun in a room and happy-go-lucky

I think it could provide a nice break from his time in the team?

Constantly seeing bruised and sometimes bleeding players takes a toll on Yamazaki, who barely supports it. The vibes of the team are overall dark and can be overwhelming.

A cheerful girl gives him a break from that and the boost of serotonin he needs.

Just someone who is positive cause he doesn’t always want to think about crushing other players or other people’s demise.

I can see Yamazaki having a crush on a girl who is super friendly to him but he always thinks “She’s nice to me, but she’s nice to everyone so there’s no way she likes me in ‘that way’”

The girl would be someone who accepts his “loudness”, for lack of better word? I can see Yamazaki holding back to try to seem more “presentable”. The girl would be someone who Yamazaki is comfortable with being himself.

Can I just reiterate how cute Yamazaki’s preference in girls is….we have stupid girls, intelligent girls, masochists, girls with pretty legs, and Yamazaki is here like “I like cheerful girls…”

An angel indeed….

[blacksurvivalnostalgichanges]

immortal soul:black survival characters as john mulaney

dunno how i didn’t think of that before but

Adela: Hmm, we’re not so different, you and I. You have your law practice, and me, I have all these fuckin’ markers.

Adriana: Well here goes nothing. You ever seen a ghost?

Alex: A lot of people think that you like bulls, and if you just buh- They assume it! When you search your name, the third thing to come up is like “John Mulaney bull?”

Arda: Or if it’s one of those true or false questions, you should be able to add a third option which is “who’s to say?”.

Aya: “So you saw what happened and you did nothing?” “Yeah, ‘cause I was sitting over on the bench.” “Let me ask you this. In Nazi Germany....”

Barbara:It’s just dads, singing so loud, thinking that’ll somehow get their kids to sing.

Bernice: Let’s change the subject! Why are we even talking about Penelope, or whatever her name was? I didn’t kill her! Whoever did kill her only did it to protect her from this world!

Bianca: Remember the Psalms? They’re not songs, ‘cause they don’t rhyme and they’re not good. They’re perfectly named.

Camilo:He’s played for stadiums of 20000 people cheering to him like he’s a god, for fifty years. That must change you as a person. If you do that for fifty years you’re never again going to be like “Uhmmm, does anyone have a laptop charger I could borrow...?”

Cathy:That guy will get up there and sing into the microphone. He’s not a singer, ‘cause he’s not good at it, but he tries.

Chiara: Now I was raised Catholic. I don’t know if you can tell that from the everything about me.

Chloe: Every room she walked into, she’d be like, “So this could be an office. (shakes shoulders) Or maybe a nursery.”

Daniel: I think he was just doing that dad thing of like, “This is a weird topic and I want to talk about a book I read about World War II”. But the way it came off was that he definitely killed that little girl!

Echion:Sometimes babies will point at me, and I don’t care for that shit at all.

Eleven:Famous people are weird as shit. They’re all weird, your suspicions are correct.

Eva:Marty McFly is a 17-year-old student, whose best friend is a disgraced nuclear physicist. And, I shit you not, they never explain how they became friends. They never explain it. Not even in a lazy way like, “Hey, remember when we met in that science building?”. They don’t even do that.

Emma:My dad was so weird, I’d love to meet him someday.

Fiora:I didn’t mean to make it sound like we don’t want children. We don’t, but I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.

Hart: I love to play venues where if the guy that built the venue could see me on the stage, he would be a little bit bummed about it.

Hyejin: “All right, Petunia, wish me luck.” “(french chainsmoker voice) You will die on August 7th, 2037.” “(shrugs) That’s pretty good.”

Hyunwoo:No one cared about my opinion when I was a little kid. No one cared what I thought. Sometimes, people would say “What do you think you’re doing?”. But that just meant “stop”.

Isol: In high school people were like, “What are your top three colleges?” I was like “top three colleges? I thought I’d be dead in a trunk with my hand hanging out of the taillight by now.”

Jackie: He could look at a child and guess the price of their coffin.

If you left your baby with your mother tonight, you’re not gonna race home and check the nanny cam. But if you left your baby with Gary Busey....!

Jan:My wife and I walk around New York city, pushing Petunia the french bulldog in a stroller, and it’s a big stroller, and it has a big black hood. And people lean in to see the baby.

Jenny:Let’s say a kidnapper throws you in the back of a trunk. Don’t panic.

Johann: “Wait, so they forced you to go?” Yeah, I was five. I was forced to go everywhere. No kid is just going to church, like, riding by on his Huffy, like “Woah! What’s this place! Weird byzantine temple with green carpeting where everyone has bad breath and I wear clothes that I hate on one of my mornings of my two days off? Let’s do this!”

JP: “Okay, I think I see where you’re going here. They go back in time, and they stop the Kennedy assassination!” “Oooaaoh. That’s a really good idea. We didn’t even think of that.” “All right, well what do they do with the time machine?” “Well now I’m embarassed to say.”

Laura: My friends were all like, “Is he nice?” No! Or maybe he is, for his version of life! ‘Cause he has a very different life!

Lenox: You just showed up at 8 AM, and they were like, “Put down your stuff. Go to the gym.” And you’re like, “god, I guess they’re finally gonna kill us all, alright. This is younger than I thought I would be but we are pretty big assholes.”

Leon:I was like twelve years old and my dad walked up to me and he said, “Hello... (chuckes) Hello, I’m Chip Mulaney, I’m your father.” And then he said the following. “You know, Leonard Bernstein. Was one of the great composers and conductors of the 20th century, but sometimes he would be gay. And according to a biography I read of him, when he was holding back the gay part, he did some of his best work.”

Li Dailin: I asked my mom if she’d ever seen a ghost. That’s where we’re at conversation-wise in our relationship as a mother and son, because I’m 35 and I don’t have any children to talk about, and she doesn’t understand my career.

Luke: None of us really know our fathers. Anyway...

Magnus: She came in and she picked up the baby, and she was like “It’s okay, she’s just going through that phase where she says penis and vagina a lot”. Aren’t we all.

Mai: Why don’t you give me a candle for looking in the mirror? And a floppy hat, and I’ll tremble off to bed in my Victorian nightgown!

Nadine: Every time I go to the zoo I’m like “Hey, where’s the jaguar?”, and the zoo guy is like “oh, he must be in the inside part”. The inside part? Tell him we’re here.

Nathapon: You are gathered together as a school and you are told never to talk to an adult that you don’t know. And you are told this by an adult that you don’t know.

Nicky:That’s right- there was always assembly, and then, like, that second assembly to yell at you for how you behaved at the first assembly.

Rio:I”ll be at a wedding reception and someone’ll be like, “Heyy, you coming to the hotel bar after? We’re all gonna get drinks and keep the party going”, and I’m like “Nah nah nah sister, you’re not getting me to no secondary location!”

Rosalio: People walk around on the phone now like, “Hello hello? You still there- ugh, lost him”. And that’s it! No follow-through with that guy!

Rozzi:Yeah, he was not a “spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down” kind of guy. He was more like “brush your teeth. Now boom! Orange juice! That’s life.”

Shoichi: By the way, Detective J. J. Bittenbinder wore three-piece suits. He also wore a pocket watch. Two years in a row, he wore a cowboy hat. He also had a huge handlebar mustache. None of that matters, but it’s important to me that you know that.

Silvia: Children, rather than continuing to teach you how to read, we have cleared the entire day for this random guy!

Sissela: You should be able to write in, “I don’t know. I know you told me. But I have had a very long day. I am very small, and I have no money. So you can imagine the kind of stress that I am under.”

Sua: Some people give off a vibe of, like, right away they’re like “Do not fuck with me”. My vibe is more like “Hey, you could pour soup in my lap and I’ll probably apologize to you!”

William: There are those guys who, they buy the cow, and then on the side, total matador, but...

Xiukai: “And when one feels like a duck, one is happy!” Now that’s debatable.

Yuki: And I have friends I went to college with, and they’re like “oh, you should donate and be a good alumnus”. And they wear shirts that say ‘school’ and it’s like, look....

Zahir: She said, “Okay, I know I don’t get this shit because I wasn’t raised Catholic, and I’m fucking glad I wasn’t because it’s a fucked up organization”, I said “nonononoo, we all know that.”