#things i wanted to say but lost the desire to

[anonajn]

out of these i'm picking ian mckellan and tim curry in amadeus, but what i really want to see is keanu reeves doing hamlet in winnipeg in 1995. here is a review, and i also put it below

Most Excellent Prince

"What a piece of work is Keanu's Hamlet!"

This is one role that might have been written for the star of Speed, says Roger Lewis.

I crossed oceans of time to find him: 30 hours from my house in France, through several time zones and the polar wastes, to Winnipeg -- of all places the most God-forsaken. Situated in the dead centre of Canada, ice-bound for half the year, once a trading post for the Hudson Bay Co, and now a maze of subterranean shopping malls, Winnipeg is a town even the locals mock: "Winnipeg folk travel a lot -- to get away from Winnipeg";"Winnipeg looks great -- after dark, when the view is better..." They need not be so diffident. The standard of living is high (no beggars, no litter, no germs); they have opera, ballet, theatre -- and Keanu Reeves, the 30-year-old actor who had fled there, to be far out of reach, to play Hamlet.

Let's get it out of the way at once, and wipe that smirk off your face; if you had anticipated Bill and Ted's Shakeapearian Adventure, forget it. He was wonderful. He quite embodied the innocence, the splendid fury, the animal grace of the leaps and bounds, the emotional violence, that form the Prince of Denmark. He has the sheer virility of Larry Olivier's melancholy Dane -- which Keanu saw on video just the other week -- plus the Peter Pannishness, the little-boy-lost quality, that I remember Mark Rylance bringing to the role. He was both vulnerable (as in the scenes with Gertrude when a goodnight kiss goes on and on until mother and son recoil in horror at their arousal) and severe (as in the bit where he flies at Rosencrantz and Guildenstern for presuming to "play upon me...you would pluck out the heart of my mystery").

He is one of the top three Hamlets I have seen, for a simple reason; he *is* Hamlet, and he has been a lonely a resourceful type, who won't submit, in film after film. He is full of undercurrents and overtones, which is why the world's big directors want to work with him. He is killingly attractive, no question. He can look, from moment to moment, faintly oriental, with his slanted black eyes -- he has Chinese, Hawaiian and British blood in him -- or crew-cut clean Caucasian; he can be Californian (especially in his locutions: I'd not been asked whether I felt a really cool dude before) and exotic, like a Canadian-Indian -- I kept seeing his profile in ancient Inuit sculpture, which Winnipeg has museums full of.

But his physique is just the first thing which sets him apart. What counts is the impression we get of a nature that is turbulent and proud -- though he can exude calm and courtliness -- and that he has a gift given to few; like Garbo, he is an actor who can register -- simultaneously -- both pleasure and pain. And, like Garbo, he prefers to keep his own company. He doesn't want to be crowded.

Is that why he chose Winnipeg? A self-enclosed community in the lonesome prairie? He was there without bodyguards or companions; there is not Court of Keanu; no agents or PR persons or those curious factotums, former ballet dancers usually, who tend to cluster around a star, like maggots on a chop. He walked to work, shuffling through the snow (it was minus 25 degrees C) in his curious, dancing, tripping-over-himself way. He'd been seen in a cafe on his own, nursing a Perrier. Here was the paradox of this famous and desirable man, and there is nobody with him, ever. He is loved -- by million of hungry fans -- but does he know how to love? He went to the Prarie Oyster restaurant with the cast, and left early; taking his food away in a doggy bag; he went to an Italian restaurant and left in case two girls at the bar pestered him. None of this behaviour is sulky, tantrumy, make no mistake about that, for he has a great and unfeigned tenderness; it is more that, like Hamlet, he has a world within himself.

He is coping with stardom, and trying to appear normal (when he knows he is not) by ignoring it. He doesn't own a house in L.A. He lives in hotels or in the rooms of actors who are out of town. He doesn't want too easy a life -- the mansions and the flunkeys. He anchors his ship for a little while only, and this is how he struck me in conversation -- though he is sitting there, he is not quite there all the time, as he darts from mood to mood, curving and winding, cautious and direct. Though he had been an athletic, piratical Hamlet, there is this huge, I can only call it ethereal, element. He is retiring from society, from life -- and that might be dangerous; his spirituality could intensify, and he could spirit away. He is in his dressing room hours and hours before the show. I'll bet he is bouncing around and getting himself into mortal and human shape so that he can appear or stage. For he is an eagle, really; or a glossy and supple stallion.

Hollywood, meantime, would prefer this wild beast to be back with them, making more bomb-on-the-bus stuff; there were brokers and moguls, less interested in him than in the money he makes, doing their best to scupper the production. Shakespeare in Winnipeg! Three weeks on a basic Equity rate! When he could be reaping billions after Speed! (After all, reports last week of his sign-up fee for the new movie, Drop Dead, ranged from 4 million pounds to 10 million pounds.) Thus, the Manitoba Theatre Centre, a concrete lump that looks as though it is dissolving, was forbidden from arranging publicity interviews with the Principal Boy; there were to be no press tickets, photo calls, nothing. CBC was forbidden to run a clip of Keanu in action -- so their bulletin was literally Hamlet without the Prince.

Hollywood pretended it was not happening; they were deeply contemptuous and suspicious of the entire affair. The rumor was that Keanu's own representatives would not fly to see his performance until they were absolutely certain he had not made a fool of himself. Supportive, huh? It just makes him the more like Hamlet, coming here, against the odds; embattled. It had been his idea to work again with his drama school mentor, the Toronto director Lewis Baumander, for whom he was once a thrilling Mercutio; and the production was built around Keanu, quite deliberately. Gone is the messy, modern, neurotic Hamlet; Baumander has encouraged us to see the character's sense of duty; and Keanu -- who is himself facing a challange, taking a risk -- would make a good King of Denmark, because he has re-discovered the splendour of heroism, its Camelot quality; which is how he transfigured Speed, giving it extra spin and nuance.

The Winnipeggios were tickled pink to have him in their midst -- they had not seen a star since Charlie Chaplin drove through on his way to fish in the lake -- and this, plus the fact that all 22,000 seats for the run were sold out on subscription (i.e. before the box office opened), was a story in itself. The local press had a Keanu Hotline: "If you see Keanu out and about in Winnipeg, don't keep it a secret. Call 697-7368." But this scheme was spiked -- by the readers. "It's wonderful what he has done for Winnipeg," I was often told, and though most people had indeed spotted him, he was to be accorded respect and privacy. This seemed rather British -- old-fashioned and virtuous -- British like an Ealing comedy. People were so polite, they would phone the theatre and ask if they could ask for an autograph ("He's very approachable," said the receptionist. "You could come and see him in the lobby"). The staff at the Sheraton, not wanting to over-do it, obtained a single signature and photocopied it.

Best of all -- a moment out of a Boulting Bros. film -- was the opening night itself. "Ladies and gentlemen, please be upstanding for the Governor General of Manitoba and Mrs Carlton Browne, and the Lady Mayoress and her goddaughter Patsy." And in trooped these Peter Sellers characters, in medals and ostrich plumes and we sang God Save the Queen. That this was followed by a burst of jangling rock music and Keanu in a spotlit tableau grieving over his father's tomb is I suppose what these days gets to be called surreal.

Afterwards, the cast party: to which the entire audience was invited. Though the Winnipeg Free Press and the Winnipeg Sun reported this as a stellar evening to outrank Graumann's Chinese, the atmosphere, for all the ice sculptures of Elsinore and cavier canapes, was actually much more like a village hall -- with Keanu down at the end scribbling on people's programmes and posters. He was still performing -- or continuing to be, in endless permutation. For each person, he would adjust, to make them special: a puppyish younger brother with men; a chivalric knight when calming the hyperventilating teens; the adored grown-up son to the older women, who want to be his mother, Wendy to his frowning Peter Pan. Men and women desire that he should like them, and he would speak to them and pose for their Instamatics, and they'd fantasise forever that he'd stay with them. (There were no ogling gays in evidence, by the way. Perhaps the Canadian cold snaps keep them down.)

He doesn't need applause; he wants to survive the flattery. His exhortation to me was to deal justly with him. He is measurelessly puzzling and fascinating.

I'll never forget one occasion. It was midnight and we were standing outside the theatre, wrapped up against the cold -- and there was this huge hearse-like stretch limo 20 or so yards away. This was the only touch that said "movie star" and was very un-Winnipeg. "My mother," he said, in his low, soft and furry voice. "She had come to town to see the production," and the sinister car conveyed her -- and him -- around the corner to the Westin Hotel.

Before disappearing, he glanced at the the vehicle with amusement and embarrassement. Dressed in his layers of black, tall and elegant and as slim as a shark's fin, and with the snowflakes softly falling on his hat, twinkling and refusing to melt on his skin, and with his face inclined towards me, so intent you would swear he could listen to the wolves barking amid the ice and frozen rivers, he was very beautiful.

Time Travel Question 67: Assorted Performances VI

These Questions are the result of suggestions from the previous iteration.

This category may include suggestions made too late to fall into the correct grouping.

Please add new suggestions below if you have them for future consideration.

[insidekatmind]

Mason can say goodbye to you- Levi Colwill

Wearning: +18,smut,betrayal, english is not my first language

It was an important evening, one of those that marked the start of a crucial week for Mason and the English national team. The party organized to celebrate the beginning of the Euros was elegant yet relaxed, an opportunity for the players to unwind a bit before the challenges ahead. You, as always, were by Mason’s side, impeccable in your tight black dress that seemed tailor-made for you. Every detail spoke of you: your enveloping coconut and vanilla scent, your well-groomed hair, your natural grace that didn’t go unnoticed.

But inside, something was wrong. Lately, Mason had made you feel invisible. A couple of weeks ago, you had tried to talk to him about how his behavior hurt you. They were things that, for him, were “childish,” but to you, they were important. Every time you explained it, he shrugged it off, minimizing your feelings with superficial comments.

That evening, your disappointment was masked by a perfect smile. Mason seemed absorbed in a conversation with Harry Kane, laughing and joking as if nothing in the world could disturb him. And you, well, you could do nothing but try to distract yourself, holding a glass of white wine as you observed the room.

And that’s when you noticed him.

Levi Colwill was leaning against the bar, a barely noticeable smile on his full lips. The tattoos peeking from under his rolled-up shirt sleeves gave him an irresistibly confident aura. And the earring in his left lobe? A signature of his unmistakable style.

When your eyes met, you felt your heart race. Levi raised his glass in a barely perceptible gesture, a silent invitation. You weren’t sure why, but your feet moved toward him before you could even rationalize it.

“You’re too beautiful for a party this boring,” he said, his deep, velvety voice seeming to caress you.

You smiled, trying to keep your composure. “Maybe I’m just trying to raise the level.”

“You’re succeeding,” he replied, tilting his head slightly as he watched you. “Mason is a lucky man. But he doesn’t seem to realize it.”

Those words hit you harder than you wanted to admit. Levi had picked up on what Mason had ignored for weeks. You bit your lip, trying not to let too much show.

“I don’t think this is the right time for that kind of conversation,” you responded, trying to steer things away.

But Levi wasn’t discouraged. He took a step closer, closing the gap between you. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just… it’s hard not to notice you.”

His scent, fresh and masculine, enveloped you. You felt your cheeks warm and your heart beat faster. That’s when Mason turned around, still deep in conversation with Kane, not noticing what was happening just a few feet away.

“Don’t worry,” Levi continued, lowering his voice as if he were about to share a secret. “I won’t say anything, if you don’t want me to.”

“Levi, you’re... you’re straightforward, aren’t you?” You tried to keep your tone light, but the tension between you was palpable.

“I’m not here to lie,” he said, his smile becoming more intimate. “And you? Will you pretend that I didn’t affect you, even a little?”

You lost your breath for a moment. His confidence was disarming, but there was nothing arrogant about him. He was just a man who knew exactly what he wanted, and in that moment, that something was you.

The problem? You wanted him too.

And here you are in a random room kissing.

You lost your breath for a moment, your heart pounding faster as Levi looked at you, his dark eyes full of an intensity you had never seen. A part of you tried to maintain control, but another part, the one that could no longer ignore the desire burning inside you, pushed you to get even closer to him.

Levi smiled, his gaze locked onto yours as if he could read every thought running through your mind. "You know," he said in a low voice, "I'm not usually one for these kinds of games. But when a woman is this... captivating, it's hard to resist."

You couldn’t hold back any longer. Without thinking too much, you moved closer, feeling his warm breath on your skin as you looked at him with a mixture of desire and curiosity. And so, without a word, you found yourself with your hands gliding over his taut muscles as he pulled you even closer, until his soft, yet firm lips pressed against yours in a kiss that made you lose track of time.

You couldn’t believe what was happening. Every movement, every touch, every single exchange of breath felt more intense, more enveloping. Levi’s kisses were... a thousand times better than those you had ever shared with Mason. There was something overwhelming about him, a passion that warmed you like a fire and made you forget everything else.

His hands, warm and sure, explored you with tenderness, but also with a strength you hadn’t expected. And you responded, letting desire take over. Every kiss was an explosion of emotions that swept over you, a connection that felt like it went beyond the body, as if every part of you were in sync with every one of his moves.

"I don’t want this to end," Levi murmured, his voice a whisper that made you shiver. His gaze deepened, as if he were trying to read every fragment of your soul.

You looked at him, your mind confused but also incredibly clear in that moment, aware that everything happening felt so different, so new, yet you felt more alive than ever. "Neither do I," you replied, the words feeling like an admission more than you wanted, but it was too late to turn back.

And so, in that dark and silent room, your bodies drew closer together, and the kisses became more intense, more wild, while the world outside seemed to fade away. Every beat of your heart mixed with his, and there was no space for regret or the disappointment you had felt with Mason. In that moment, there was only Levi, and his touch that made you feel desired like never before.

You were completely enraptured by his kisses, every movement seemed a spell that enveloped you, making everything else disappear. His breath mixed with yours, and the intensity of each touch sent you into ecstasy. You felt his hands exploring you, but it was never enough; you wanted more, you wanted more than all that warmth, that closeness.

With a natural movement, your hands lifted, looking for her curly hair. As soon as your fingers grabbed them, you pulled him closer, feeling his head bend under your touch as your lips met hers again. You couldn’t stop yourself, the desire grew and made you forget everything else. Each of his kisses seemed deeper, more intense, and you couldn’t help but respond with the same passion, as if it was all you ever wanted.

Levi seemed to feel your every movement, every breath, and he responded with the same strength, with the same desire. His hands moved on your back, drawing warm lines under the dress as his body came closer and closer to yours, as if he could not help touching you.

His mouth came off of yours for a moment, leaving you breathless, but not for long. "You’re having fun, aren’t you?" said, his rough and sensual voice, the smile that was seen on his lips made you tremble.

You nod without words, seeking once again her lips, hungry for her kiss. Every gesture, every caress seemed to increase the desire to feel more of him, to feel every part of his body in close contact with yours. You felt alive, more than ever, as if it was the only thing that mattered, its touch that made you forget everything, as if the outside world no longer existed.

His hands rose slowly, caressing your neck, raising desire like a wave that could not stop. It was as if your body were following him, wanting him, and could not help but respond to his every impulse. And at that moment, you realized that not only were you forgetting Mason, but you were abandoning all thought to let Levi go completely without reservation.

Levi gently laid you on the bed as he lifted your dress and moved your panties to the side and licked your pussy. You moaned as you looked up at the pleasure Levi was giving you.

He had a skillful tongue and was licking your pussy like a hungry man and you were enjoying every moment.

"Levi" you moaned as you lowered your head and saw how she was sucking your pussy and licking it. You were so wet for him you could feel it.

Levi looked up and moaned at your fucking face. You tightened your thighs on her face wanting more and more of her face in your pussy, it looked so good in the middle of your thighs.

You put your hand in his hair and pull it making him groan and his moaning vibrates on your pussy making you come in his mouth and his face.

Before he completely broke away from your pussy, he gave him a last kiss and then stood up as he licked his lips and you groaned at his sight.

"Fuck Mason is so stupid, you’re fucking perfect" he said as he stuck his lips on yours and you moaned feeling your taste in his mouth.

When you broke off the kiss, you helped him take his belt and jeans off and he took off his boxer shorts and moaned at his cock. It was three times the size of Mason’s. He saw your reaction and smiled as he rubbed his cock at your wet entrance making you moan.

"Now I’ll get you to fuck properly," he said as he shoved his cock into you, making you scream and bow your back.

He groans and you looked at him, seeing his lost expression of pleasure as he grunted and pushed himself inside you. "so fucking tight, it seems like you’ve never been fucked" you moaned as you felt Levi pushing harder inside you.

Levi lowered the cups of your dress and your bra to suck your nipples and you were screaming like a crazy for the pleasure he was giving you. At that moment you didn’t care if anyone could get in or even if Mason could find out what you were doing, Levi was making you feel so good it felt like you were on another planet.

His thrusts became stronger and stronger as you were hammering inside and you were beginning to see the stars as you said his name like a prayer and song.

"You’re taking it so well, keep going baby" he muttered and then lowered his head on the neck biting and branding you.

You couldn’t care less that he was leaving stains on your neck, he could do what he wanted and you would let him do it.

Levi could hear how excited you were about this and he smiled. "I bet Mason never fucked you so well, huh?" he said putting his hand on your neck and holding it as you looked at each other. You moaned more for contact and as confirmation of what he had told you.

He smiled and gave more taps faster and you scratched his back making him moan.

"Open your mouth" he said in a whisper and you immediately did what he told you to do and he spat his saliva into your mouth and you immediately swallowed.

He smiled as he pushed harder. "What a good girl, I don’t even have to tell you what to do because you do it of your own free will" Levi whispered and then again attack his lips with yours.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth while you were moaning and sucking his tongue making him moan and as you were kissing he pushed his cock ever more strongly always on your g point and you came on his dick.

Levi was coming too and he watched you as he nibbled on your horseradish. "Where do you want me to come?" he murmured in your crotch as he groaned. "Inside me, please Levi come inside me" you prayed to him and he smiled while boobing and spilling inside you covering all the walls of your pussy with his sperm.

You never let Mason come inside you and you never let him fuck without a condom but with Levi it was different. He had awakened a part of you that you didn’t know existed.

He still buried inside you kissed you again while you made the rubbing on his neck. "You’re mine now, Mason can say goodbye to you," he whispered near your lips and you nodded as you moaned because he was biting your lip.

[arinzx]

JUST A KISS !

` Where Riki is crazy with love !

✶ 𝐂𝑖𝐒 ⦂ love!riki ୨୧ love!reader ｡｡ fluff, one shot, ⟡ .─ tw. skinship, kisses ( 𝓐𝐑𝐂𝐇 )

Jaz note: the only thing I can say after writing this. I need a riki ;(

English is not my native language!

The task was simple: to write an essay on the First World War and its consequences and impacts on the world. The only difficult thing about the whole situation was keeping Ni-ki away from you.

It was a bad idea to choose your boyfriend as your partner, especially after how difficult it was to get out of his arms just to be able to continue with the work...

Ni-ki was not very satisfied, especially after in the whole damn day, he had not received a single sign of love, not a single one.

“Honeeey!” Riki whined as he shook you, he put his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him while they were sitting on your bed, you put aside your computer directing your attention to riki, with a threatening look you continued “Nishimura Riki, I swear that if I get 5 in this essay because of your need for kisses... you won’t be safe at night!” You gave him a slight blow to the head while Riki formed a slight involuntary pout on his face, rubbing at the place of the blow “I can’t believe my own girlfriend wants to hurt me, what did I do to deserve this...” He put his hand on his chest dramatically.

Leaving aside his drama, you turned your attention back to the computer, you completely ignored the way he got up, listening to the distance, listening to how he walked away.

Totally lost in the essay, you felt as if out of nowhere someone climbed on top of you, causing the computer to fall to the floor strongly.

Riki’s weight left you breathless “Nishimura, I’m out of oxygen!” You tried to push him away with all your strength, but being your boyfriend taller, stronger and heavier than you. Obviously you didn’t make it.

“I won’t do it until I get my kiss,” he began to laugh out loud, dropping his weight more on you. “It’s okay, it’s okay! I’ll give you your damn kiss” you felt how Riki knelt slightly, facing each other, their faces completely close. “Are you really going to give it to me?” A mischievous smile appeared on his face, the breaths slowly mix.

“But only one-“ Riki took your face with his two hands, pressing his lips with yours, melting into a loving kiss, which transmitted Riki’s desire and longing, as loving, as a second confession of love. I roll on the bed, making you stay on top of him, while hugging you from behind, feeling so small around him. You walked away slowly due to lack of air.

“Well, time to go back to work-“ He began to peck your lips, not letting you get away from him, your laughter echoed in the room while you tried to push him away “Nishimura enough!” The laughter of this one was not necessary, twitching against the “I can’t help it, it’s involuntary!”

You managed to get away from him, getting off him quickly “Enough, I’ll give you the kisses you want, but only after finishing the work” you pointed at him threateningly and he raised his hands in defense. You took your computer from the floor, but when you opened it, you found a split screen..!

You turned your head slowly towards him, riki realizing what happened thought that the exorcist had possessed you “Oh no...”

“NISHIMURA!!”

[blackynsupremacy]

ARE WE STILL

FRIENDS?

pairing: smallville!clark kent x black!fem!reader

summary: as a junior at smallville high, you’re known as many things: captain of the girl’s basketball team, straight a-student, a bit of a tomboy, and the younger sister of pete ross by three minutes. as twins, you share many things, including your childhood best friend, clark kent. prom is nearing soon and you’re both dateless, so you and clark agree to arrive together as friends. after the view of a yellow dress, a slow dance, and a moment in the photo booth, you start to doubt if you’ll both leave the same way you came.

a/n: you can imagine jeremy as whoever you want.

contains: lots of words. fluff, brother’s best friend trope, reader is pete’s twin sister, reader knows, angst, mild swearing, arguing, friends to lovers, kissing/making out, hurt/comfort, love confession, clana is broken up, jealousy, betrayal.

a/n: finally another clark fic! anybody got ideas for tsay chapter 5? i want it to be action packed fr.

taglist: @afrogirl3005 @rosiestalez @paisholotus @sabrinasopposite @stereotypicalbarbie @ellethespaceunicorn @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @thabiddie23 @sheydnni @tryingtograspctrl @elitesanjisimp @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @camiesully @supaprettyg

“come on, kent! is that all you got?”

you were taunting him as he tried to guard you from making winning shot of your one v. one basketball game on kent farm. clark kent may have been six-foot-four with a strapping athletic build, but he wasn’t the captain of smallville high’s lady crows basketball team. due to your skill, leadership, and strategy, your girls have had an undefeated season so far. you continue to dribble and swiftly turn around to catch clark off guard before you jump to shoot the basketball which dove perfectly within the net. clark exasperatedly chuckles while you break down into an enthusiastic shimmy of a victory dance. your twin brother, pete ross, shook his head with a smirk after observing clark’s defeat. you both knew that for an exceptional farm boy that hailed from another planet couldn’t even school you on the court, had to mean something was off. in these playful competitions, you’ve had your fair share of wins with clark, but also definitely some losses. with a slow clap of his hands, pete approached clark to pat him on the back in playful sympathy,

“damn. it looks like you’ve lost your mojo, clark.” he quipped.

you and clark playfully roll your eyes. you sauntered to your brother and flick him in the forehead before you sassily chimed in,

“boy, shut up! you do realize that even clark can lose to me, right?”

“hey—ow! i’m just saying. clark, could’ve super sped around you and easily taken that shot.” he yelped in pain. clark chuckled before contributing to the conversation,

“first of all, pete, that would be cheating. second, my focus has been everywhere with prom coming up this weekend. you’re still going with me, aren’t you, pete?”

clark stretched his arms and you didn’t miss the slight flex of the bulging biceps he possessed. you always thought he was attractive, smart, and overall the perfect candidate for a boyfriend, but there was already so many complications entailed in that. first, there was the principle that he was your friend and your brother’s best friend. you basically grew up together, so you always thought lines like that should never be crossed no matter how much your heart desired for him at times. second, there was lana lang, clark’s first love. lana and clark’s relationship was complicated as well. one minute they’re together in perfect loving bliss, then the next, it’s back to being friends. this time, they were back to friend zone for a long while. lana was a friend of yours along with chloe. it was odd being tight with girls you knew had feelings for the same guy as you, but somehow, you try not to let that cause a rift between you. plus, you’re starting to develop a new crush on this guy named, jeremy ford. he was a senior and the captain of the boy���s basketball team. you’ve had opportunities where you would practice with him one on one after school and hang out at the talon occasionally to share strategies to help out your teams. he was handsome, athletic, funny, popular, and a scholar, so you’ve figured that he would be perfect as your date to the prom. when you get the chance this week, you were finally going to ask him. lastly, there was the fact that you knew clark’s secret along with your brother.

you’ve never forgotten that shift in your friendship with clark after finding that ship in his shed. it all made sense on how he was able to get to places so fast and subdue the people who were powered by those damned green rocks. pete already had to deal with clark having the attention of chloe and him being friends with their long-time family enemy, lex luthor. it was such a shock to you, but unlike those others who had powers and abused them, you knew that clark only wanted to use his abilities for good. to clark’s relief, you were quicker to forgive and swear to secrecy than your brother who eventually came around.

“thanks, y/n. i knew i could count on you to understand.” clark said when you visited him in loft the night after finding out. “at least you can consider yourself the first girl to know—besides my mom, of course!” he’d joke and for some reason that made you feel special.

now, your bond was stronger as you had to show that he was still the boy you called a good friend whose ass you’d occasionally kick in some hoops, but another part of you knew that things could be riskier than before with all of the bizarre occurrences of smallville.

“about that—” pete hesitantly stated, rubbing the back of his neck. “teresa campbell asked me last week, man. i know that ever since you and lana split, we’d make it a stag night, but we can all still go as a group. as far as i know, it could be me, you, teresa, and y/n.” he explained cringing a bit at the look of slight disappointment on clark’s face. you were a bit peeved that pete had sideswiped clark like that and that he assumed you were dateless. well, you were, but just because you were twins didn’t mean he fully knew you and your plans.

“it’s no worries, man. we can all still have a great time. right, y/n?” clark inquired, shifting his blue eyes on figure and he bounced the basketball in your direction.

“yeah, but, whose to say i didn’t already have a date, pete? we may be twins, but i don’t have to tell you everything.” you rebutted with a sharp glare towards your brother, catching the ball and placing it on your hip. pete threw his hands up in surrender,

“now, hold up, n/n. the last time i checked you never mentioned him, okay? look, i’m sorry for assuming. who’d you have in mind?”

your bashfully shift your eyes between the two awaiting males before you answer,

“uh,— jeremy ford.”

you were a bit shocked as there was a pause of silence. like there was something you didn’t know. you sighed ready for whatever was about to come,

“what is it now?”

clark held onto your shoulders and turned you to face him to deliver the news in the most gentle, but direct manner possible.

“y/n, lana is going to prom with jeremy.”

you stood there in silence, trying to register the words that were spoken to you. maybe this was sick prank the guys were playing on you to hurt your already bruised ego.

“what? psh, no way. lana would’ve told me.” you deny, dismissing what you thought was a ludacris claim.

pete shook his head and crossed his arms before serving the explanation of the knowledge. given the fact they lived together, lana had told chloe that jeremy had been hanging around late at the talon after you’d leave. eventually, he and lana got to know each other and before they knew it, lana agreed to jeremy’s proposal of prom. then chloe passed the news on to clark and pete. as an aspiring journalist, chloe was going to get it straight from a reliable source, so it all had to be true.

chloe and lana knew for a fact that you had a crush on him and they’d tease you to just go for it, but you’d always dismiss them with the excuse of focusing on your studies to achieve a full-ride athletic scholarship. plus, you’ve never really had that much dating experience to begin with, so it was all a bit of a mess. pete and clark could see the dark cloud of hurt loom over your face. there was a stabbing, tingling pain within your gut. you thought that you and jeremy would be the perfect match. you both shared the same goals and interests, how could you have missed the signs of lost chances? what else were you expecting? lana had already dated clark, but no human nor alien had control over their feelings. it would’ve hurt a little less if lana gave you a head’s up. possibly she was afraid of how you would’ve react or affected your friendship. you never wanted to be the type of girl to end friendships over a crush anyway.

“n/n, say something. are you oka—” clark began to question, but you sharply cut him off.

“i’m fine, clark. lana and jeremy can do what they want, it’s not like he was my boyfriend or anything. what about you? lana is your ex.” clark watched in silence as you tried to play it off so cool, but it didn’t take his x-ray vision to see that you were crushed on the inside. he believed you didn’t deserve this at all. you’ve always been a great friend to him and lana. sometimes, you’d give him advice or a listening ear whenever there was a conflict weighing on him. you were the type of person that gave their all. you gave your all in your sport, teammates, academics, family, and friends. who was giving something back to you?

without another word, you looked at your watch and turned to your brother,

“it’s about time we head home, pete. mom will be calling if we don’t make it in time for dinner.— see you at school, clark?” you bid him a goodbye with a tight lipped smile and a side hug before placing the basketball back in his arms. you cross your arms and make your way into the passenger seat of pete’s car. the boys give each other a silent knowing glance and a casual dap of farewell before pete follows suit to drive you both back home. during dinner, your parents, abigail and bill ross, noticed that you weren’t your usual talkative self due to your obvious lack of appetite and dry responses to their questions about your day. when your mother mentioned the prom, you promptly asked to be excused to your bedroom, so that you could “study”. you wrapped up your plate, placed it in the fridge, and took your leave. once in your room, you didn’t waste time in plopping yourself into your bed. you bury your face into your pillow to muffle your sobs of agony. romance looked so good in the movies you’ve watched, but why did it have to hurt so bad in reality?

you lay on your side, facing the large, purple stuffed bear that sat on your other pillow. you sat up and smiled at it fondly. you picked it up and gave it a tight squeeze. clark had won it for you at the smallville harvest festival during your freshman year. it was one of those carnival games where you had to get three basketball shots in a row. you were just a rookie on the team and you were struggling because you wanted that bear so badly. clark happened to be there to watch the whole thing and like a superboy, he swooped in and made those three shots. there was a jovial glint within his baby blue eyes as he observed you spinning with the bear in your arms like a little child. you were so happy that you thought you could kiss him that day. clark simply saw you in a jam and was kind enough to help. that was when you started developing feelings. even though he was your brother’s best friend, you’d grown to see him as a prince charming of sorts. he had his flaws, but he always found a way to make it up somehow. your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. it was his voice.

“there’s that smile i like to see.” you quickly wiped away your tears and whipped your head in his direction. there was clark kent, casually leaning against your door frame

“clark! uh, hey. what are you doing here? look, if you need to see pete, i think he’s in the den playing that game—” you try to explain, but he interrupted as he took his body away from the door and approached closer to your bed.

“actually, i came by to see you, y/n. may i?” you nod, acknowledging his request to sit on your bed. you nod, scooting over to make room and he proceeds to sit at your side. you gaze at his side profile. his perfectly fine nose, sculpted jawline, and who could miss the subtle pout in his naturally pink lips. now, his eyes met yours. the melanated skin of your cheeks begin to heat up the longer he held eye contact. there was an air of silence in the room. you were both deciding who should be the first to speak amidst this high school prom drama. clark then glanced at the stuffed bear in your arms, he tried not to blush as he was surprised that you kept it all of these years. he noticed how you held onto it with such a tight grip as if someone were to take it away at any moment. how wholesome he found that to be. a lopsided smile played on his lips as he spoke,

“you still kept that bear after all these years?”

you sniffled with a bashful chuckle,

“yeah, it seems so embarrassing. i’m pushing eighteen, but it’s my favorite thing—well, besides my backstreet boys t-shirt.” you both fill the room with soft laughter, enjoying each other’s presence.

“no, no. not embarrassing. it’s humiliating, actually—hey, ahaha!” clark jokes in which that earns him a couple whacks in the head from your pillow. your stomach cramps as you dissolve into laughter again,

“god, you’re such an ass! you just love to ruin the moment.” you giggle, trying to catch your breath. you place the pillow to its original spot. clark flashes his pearly canines and leans back onto your bed.

“as long as i get to see you cry tears of joy instead of sadness, i’d gladly do it again.” he responds, gingerly reaching a hand towards your face to swipe a loose tear with his thumb. your cheeks heat up again as your stomach flips from his touch.

“i know today wasn’t exactly the greatest, but it’s good to hear you laugh, y/n.”

your own lopsided grin graces your features before you shift your gaze to the bear,

“i appreciate it, clark. you’re always swooping in to save the day, whether it’d be meteor freaks or teenage heartbreak.”

there was another beat of silence. before practically speeding to the ross house, clark couldn’t erase the image of your somber expression from his mind. this was everyone’s first prom and even though clark didn’t get the chance to go with lana, he didn’t want to experience it on a sour note. now that you were down in the dumps, he definitely didn’t want you to have that same feeling. he didn’t want you to look back on such a significant event with disdain, so he came over and took his chance.

“y/n, would you go to prom with me—as my date?”

upon hearing his question, you froze for a second before peering at the farm boy beside you. you were in a tough spot, sure, but you didn’t want to be his pity date, no matter how much you liked him.

“what?! clark—i know i seemed pretty tight about the jeremy thing, but i don’t want your pity. we can just go as a group of friends with pete and teresa. just like he planned.” you protested, but clark took ahold of your hands as the expression of sincerity etched on his face.

“y/n, please, just hear me out,” he urged, caressing his thumbs along your hands. “i promise you, it’s not pity. i genuinely want to spend time with you and i want us to enjoy our first prom.” you fell silent as your gaze softened while listening to his plea, “we could make it one of the best nights of our lives, even if it’s just for a little while—besides, who better to go to prom with than the best victory dancer i know?”

yet again, he flashed his contagious smile that you’ve silently adored for years as a twinkle danced within his eyes. you pondered on this impromptu proposal. clark had a point, this was going to be your first prom, an awaited moment in most teenaged girls lives that they would look back on in the future. you wanted to have a good time regardless of the jeremy situation. plus, if you accept, you’d have a date with your longtime crush! your brother’s best friend of all people. you were going as friends of course, but you couldn’t imagine this moment with anyone else. what could possibly go wrong? a smile you couldn’t contain plays on your full lips as your brown eyes matched his gaze before you finally said,

“you know what? i’d love to clark!”

“you would? really?”

“yes. we’ll come in together as friends, let loose, and bust a move or two.” you answer already envisioning the pleasant evening ahead. “why? do you want me to take back my answer?” you jokingly quiz with an arched brow.

“oh, n-no, no! i’m actually really glad you said yes.” he protested with relief washing over his features.

“then it’s a date, kent!” you take one of your hands to rest it on his shoulder before placing a brief kiss upon his cheek before you whisper, “you got super speed, so don’t i expect you to be late.”

clark’s cheeks flushed with the red shade of excitement from your touch. he surely didn’t expect that from you, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

“well, in that case, i’ll pick you up at seven, ross.”

clark bids you goodnight and you could hardly sleep with the knowledge of this upcoming weekend. the very next morning at the breakfast table, your parents are ecstatic to learn the news of your plans for prom, especially your mother. you both enthusiastically converse, conjuring up ideas of a dress, shoes, accessories, makeup, and hair. she helps to make the necessary appointments for the days leading up to it. while at school, you decided to stick around to clark, pete, or fly solo rather than you usually did with chloe and lana. you would be cordial when you see them in the hallway, but before they could talk about prom, you’d find a way to promptly excuse yourself. the last thing you wanted to hear was anything about lana and jeremy. you didn’t want to hear the conversation as if they didn’t know that you know.

“i gotta go. i have a meeting with my coach.”

“can’t. i don’t wanna be late for class!”

even when jeremy tried to catch you in the hallway. you’d gave him the same energy,

“i can’t go to the talon today, jere. i have an appointment after school.”

“i think i’ll just practice solo today.”

with each passing day after school, your mother had taken you shopping to find the dress that was perfectly made for you along with getting a well deserved mani-pedi and an eyebrow wax. she would just help with hair and makeup on the day of. your mother doted on you every step of the way. you couldn’t forget how you had to ask the dress shop employee for kleenex because she was going to burst into tears when saw you in the dress you’ve chosen. you were shocked because this was abigail ross, the no nonsense county judge of smallville that fights for justice with an iron fist. you weren’t really big on dresses in general, but for this occasion with clark, you wanted him to see that you were more than pete’s twin.

the early evening of prom makes its presence known. throughout the entire day, your stomach rumbles with an immense amount of anxiety and piquancy. you burst out into a song while taking your shower, a soft muffled hum fills the bathroom when you brush your teeth. as your mother helps you to get ready, she affirms your beauty with each dab and blend of the cosmetics applied to your face. her gifted hands gingerly work through the coiled tresses of your dark hair in the desired style that you’ve seen one of your favorite singers sport in a magazine. as if it were like a cinderella-esque transformation, your final look was completed once you’ve donned your dress, jewelry, and heels. it was finally time for one of the best nights of your life.

clark stands at the front door of the ross house. he’s not sure how many times he’s been fidgeting with his black bow tie or glancing down at the freshly arranged corsage within the plastic container, but he knows one thing for a fact.

he was nervous.

he’s been looking forward to this all week. it was a casual plan set up by two friends, but why did he feel like he was going to mess everything up? were things going to change between you and him like how it did with him and lana? or him and chloe? he was psyching himself out, but he needed to swallow whatever doubt he had and just enjoy this like a somewhat normal teenager would, especially with someone he enjoyed spending time with. with a steady hand, his knuckles raise to knock on the front door to which pete answers within seconds. they perform their casual greeting with a hello and a dap.

“hey, clark! you’re right on time. i see you styling with the corsage.” pete joked to which clark chuckled as he invited clark to step in the living room.

“i’d sure hate to disappoint your sister, so thanks! it’s still cool with you that she’s my date, right?” clark questioned, a trace of timidity within his voice. when he first told pete about being your date, he’d surely thought his friend would tell him off by crossing that boundary. to clark’s surprise, pete took the news well.

“yeah, man! she’s been looking forward to this all week. besides, you’re going as friends, so it’s not anything that i’m worried about. my mom’s up there with her now, so she should be down in a few.” pete replied, standing coolly with his hands tucked in his pockets.

they compliment each other on their respective ensembles before clark’s eyes peruses the room. his sensitive ears pick up on the sound of the bustling, grating voices of the other ross brothers who had came to visit to see the twins off for their first prom. mark, mike, and sam along with your father all hurry to the living room to greet clark with more daps and hugs as if clark were their own. it seemed that every ross had made an appearance, all except for you. abigail hurriedly came down the staircase. she frantically waved her hands to signal for the men to keep their voices down as you were about to make your grand entrance. she turns to clark with an elated expression,

“clark, i’m so glad you’ve made it. she’s all done and ready.” your mother pauses, turning her head up to the staircase to call out your name.

“honey, clark’s here! let’s see you, so you don’t be late!”

after a sixty second beat of silence, the sound of your heels reverberated through the air as you descended from the staircase. every head turned in your direction. clark’s soft blue gaze didn’t dare to pull away as you reached the bottom of the steps. you were front and center. you were the belle of the ball. he stared in awe with his mouth slightly agape as you wore a lemon, satin maxi dress that accentuated the warm toned glow of your brown skin. it had a heavy hearted cut in the front while it exposed the skin of your back like a halter top. the garment complimented your figure perfectly and matched with the golden hoop earrings your mother let you borrow. the soft makeup that was applied to your features made each of them stand out. the sleek mascara, shimmering eyeshadow and the luminous pink gloss painted on your pouty lips made you look like you’ve walked out of a magazine. even though you received the warm gazes and compliments of your parents and brothers, you were still awaiting for what clark had to say. he only stood there staring at you as if he were trying to silently analyze a piece in an art museum. he looked so dashing in the sleek, noir tux that he wore. his physique had grown to be bulkier over the years, so you certainly didn’t miss the toned outline of his body. you gave him your full attention as he softly called out your name. you spectated as he deliberately approached you. his adam’s apple bobbed within his throat and he gulped, so that he didn’t fumble over what he had to say because he meant the next words that escaped from his mouth,

“you’re so beautiful.” he proclaims, to which your family coos. he easily opens the plastic container that withheld the corsage and holds his palm out for you place your wrist in. there was a certain spark that you weren’t sure that both of you felt when his fingers brushed against your skin as he slid the floral accessory on your wrist. his soft grip on your wrist lingered as you know that he can hear your heart racing within your chest, but he’d never call you out because he didn’t want to embarrass you. with the widest smile you reply with a tone of gratitude,

“thank you, clark! you look handsome as always.” his expression matches yours and he thanks you for the compliment before your mother urges you both to pose for some pictures. after some photographs and a wise talk of safety, you all bid your family goodbye. pete had to leave to go pick up teresa in his car, so it was only fair that you’d ride with clark. with your hand wrapped around clark’s bicep, he leads you to the faithful, red pickup truck that you’ve ridden in on several occasions, but now you look at it as your awaiting chariot while clark opens the passenger side for you to sit and safely buckle in.

after a brisk ride of small talk, wise cracking, and car karaoke, he pulls into the student parking lot where students who were dressed to impress were flooding towards the entrance to get into the gym. you sat there hesitantly, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. at the sound, clark turns his eyes to the glowing profile of your fretting countenance. he can already tell that you’re internally freaking out. you haven’t really talked to lana nor jeremy all week and now what were you going to do if you ran into them? you couldn’t make too many excuses to avoid them in this situation. with a gentle hand, clark reaches over to intertwine your fingers together.

“hey—look at me.” his tenor voice softly urges. you reluctantly look at the signature benevolent, blue gaze of your best friend. you hate how weak it makes you when clark holds such intense eye contact, he means business.

“you’re going to have a great time, y/n. whatever worry is going on in your head right now, forget about it just for tonight. would you do that for me?”

“that’s not fair, clark. you know i’d do anything for you.” you both dissolve into a fit of laughter. when it dies down, you squeeze onto his hand and unbuckle your seatbelt before turning to him again, “what are you waiting for, kent? you said i was gonna have a great time, so show me a great time.”

with a grin of anticipation on his lips, he briefly releases your hand to exit the drivers’ seat and open the passenger in which your hand is instantly reunited with his. you both stroll together through the entrance, down the hallway, and into the wide, dark gym that was illuminated by colorful lights, the pumped up bass of the music playing through the stereo, and the multitude of conversations between your classmates. your brown eyes darted around the area. you see there was some tables, a couple of them were filled with concessions. there was even a line forming for what seemed to be a photo booth, in which you keep a mental note for it because you want a stab at it before you go.

most of their talking is ceased when they saw you two walking arm in arm, their eyes observed you two in awe the further you both stepped in. at first, you were starting to feel awkward under the several pairs of eyes on you. were these looks also varying in curiosity? admiration? envy? they expected clark to clean up well, but as for you, they were stunned to see the tomboyish basketball captain pop out as if she was tyra banks. although he didn’t want to seem too arrogant, clark experienced a mix of satisfaction and jealousy from the attention you were getting, especially from some of the guys. especially from jeremy, who was at first enthusiastically conversing with lana until he saw what all the commotion was about: you. piqued, jeremy peered at you from across the room as you were caught off guard when clark instinctively, yet smoothly snaked an arm around your waist to bring you closer.

“it’s okay. they’re just experiencing true beauty for the first time, it’s a very common reaction.” he wittily said with a cheeky smile. with a heated face, you looked at your friend, still convincing yourself of his status in your life, that just blatantly called you beautiful again. was this real life? he even clung to you as if one of these dudes would sweep you away. you were sure, he would instantly approach lana at the mere sight of her.

within a minute or two, pete and his date, teresa, meet you guys at the side of the dance floor. you instantly hit it off with your brother’s date as you two enthusiastically compliment each other on your dresses and engage in small girl talk. clark felt lucky that he had the prettiest girl on his arm tonight. he wasn’t sure why, but that was all he could he see you as right now. not the athlete, nor his best friend’s sister. he just saw you, y/n ross, in her element. the more he carried on in casual conversation with you, the more drawn in he seemed to be by your presence. it warmed his heart to be called your friend or — so he thought. it was all coming together when the upbeat tempo of the music shifted to something that presented an opportunity for you and clark to know each other better like you haven’t before.

the iconic opening notes of the piano from des’ree’s “kissing you” began to fill the room as couples swiftly gather together to the dance floor. when you listen to the songstress’ soprano voice, the butterflies in your stomach are frolicking when you see clark’s open palm before you. you loved this song. it was from the soundtrack of romeo + juliet, film about a forbidden love, a line crossed. why were you having these thoughts? you were just friends, it would just be a dance. nothing less, nothing more.

“may i have this dance? out of the many abilities i have, two left feet isn’t one of them, so i got you.” he lightly smiles, awaiting for your answer. he attentively watches as you rub your glossed lips together, a habit of your nervousness. you turn to him. in this moment, there was no thought of lana, nor jeremy. there was no thought of heartbreak, and certainly no inhibitions. without hesitation, you grasp his hand before meeting his gaze.

“you may, just don’t step on my toes. this pedicure wasn’t cheap!” you whisper with soft laughter following from you both before he leads you to the dance floor. when you find your place, his eyes don’t leave yours when he takes your hands to rest on his broad shoulders while his rest on your waist. his thumbs barely graze against the exposed skin of your back as his feet lead you both to sway so easily to the orchestral sound of the ballad. the world outside fades, leaving only the warmth of his presence. you find solace as you feel the soft press of his hands on your waist, the comforting weight of his fingers resting just above the curve of your hips. your fingers wrap a little tighter around his neck to the point where your fingertips graze against the nape where part of his dark curls flawlessly cascade. you’re not tripping, there’s an undeniable electricity between you when your bodies absentmindedly draw closer while you continue to engage in this “platonic” dance.

“you sure you can keep up?” clark teases, a playful glint in his eyes, breaking the silence as you sway together. the light catches his pearly smile, his pristine canines illuminating from the way he looks at you—as if you were more than what you’ve always seemed to be in his life. you giggle, feeling the deliberate rhythm pull you even closer.

“boy, please. if i can break your ankles on the court, i can have you twirling like a ballerina on this dance floor, trust.” you saucily yet softly quip, your heartbeat growing as the vocal riffs of des’ree grow more passionate. with each step on the floor, clark guides you effortlessly, his movements confident yet unhurried, as if savoring every moment like it’s the last dance of the night. more like the last night of your lives.

“alright, n/n, just don’t get too dizzy on me,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you were sure he could feel the goosebumps forming on your skin. you’re so sprung in the sway of his words and the gentle pulse of the music, the outside world completely forgotten. he even takes the opportunity to release one of your hands from his shoulder to smoothly spin you around at the bridge. when you come back, your body is flush against his. you’re basically heart to heart at this point. you don’t even notice the speculating eyes that burned into you. you don’t even notice the look of realization that dawned upon clark, lana, and pete: you were obviously in love with clark kent and it wasn’t just now. it’s been brewing within your heart for years. the weight of reality seems to dissipate, leaving behind only the two of you and this connection beyond friendship that felt so real. his powder blue gaze locked on yours, an unspoken spark flickering between you.

“you know,” he begins, his voice lowers as if he just wanted you to hear what he had to say. like your own little secret, “i’d never thought that finding ourselves dancing like this would feel so—perfect. like out of a movie or something.”

you tilt your head slightly, the air between you shifted as you reply softly, “it really does, doesn’t it? plus, i love this song. it’s from one of my favorite movies.” his thumbs brush against your bare back, igniting a warmth that spreads through your absolute everything. he gulps, getting himself together for what he’s about to say next,

“between you and me—i’d either rewind to this part over and over, or i wouldn’t want the movie to end at all.”

the pale skin of clark’s face paint with a shade of crimson as you lose yourselves in each other’s eyes, the last notes of the song begin to fade. you find yourselves leaning in closer and closer. was this actually happening? in front of lana? in front of your brother? were you both going to—reality creeps back in, the echo of the final chord concludes this ethereal moment. yet, in that fleeting instant, it feels as if time has stood still—if only for a little while. as the final note lingers in the air. you pull back slightly, just enough to read the mixture of emotions in his eyes—surprise, contentment, and something deeper lurking beneath the surface. you clear your throat and join in the applause of the crowd of students when the music instantly reverts back to the vibe of something upbeat to rock with. you clark retire yourselves to sit at one of the empty tables as you were complaining about your feet hurting from the heels you’ve been wearing. being the gentleman that he was, he helps to release your ailing feet from the shoes before venturing off to use the restroom and get some refreshments from the concession table.

while you were occupied massaging your feet, you now feel the presence of two beings sit at each side of you. you just assume it’s your brother coming to rag on you.

“pete, if you’re here to rub in my face about how i shouldn’t have worn heels this high, i will literally bop you with one.” you sass, still looking down until hear familiar feminine chuckles.

“if that’s the case, then i wouldn’t dare to say a word!” you know that quick and precise wit to be none other than your friend, chloe sullivan. you froze and turn your head to see her sitting on your right with lana lang on your left. they both looked radiant in their evening gowns as if they were contestants in a beauty pageant, especially lana. your mood starts to shift once you remembered why you avoided them in the first place. you were praying to god that clark could use his kryptonian speed to rescue you from this awkward situation.

“hey, guys. long time, no see.” you neutrally greet as you place the heels back on.

“long time, no see indeed. it feels like you haven’t had the time to be around us lately—we miss you!” lana mentioned, placing a manicured hand on your knee. what gives her the right to touch you after what she’s done. you were gonna keep your cool because clark should be back any minute now.

“yeah, i’ve just been working to get this full-ride and trying to get ready for tonight. i never knew how much time that would take.” you quip, earning a chuckle from both of the girls.

“well, it looks like it all paid off— you look beautiful!” chloe says flashing her pearly smile, a twinkle within her green eyes as lana nods in agreement. although you were peeved with them, you couldn’t help, but to smile at her compliment.

“i appreciate it, guys. ya’ll look great, too.”

there was a few beats of silence, lana finally removes her hand from your knee and twiddles with her fingers. with the clearing of her throat, she addresses the elephant in the room,

“so—um, it looks like you came with clark tonight. how did your brother take that?” you shoot her a side glance and lean back within your seat, glancing at the corsage on your wrist.

“pete’s cool with it. clark and i just happened to be dateless and he asked me to go with him. we’re just here as friends, of course.” you shrug.

“oh really, now?” she further questioned.

after the slow dance, all three of you found it bit hard to believe when you brought that up. something in lana faltered when she heard that clark had asked you. there was that pressure weighing in her stomach and chest, when she swallowed it felt like there was a lump. her hands gripped onto the fabric of her dress as she was trying to keep her facial expression as normal as possible. you didn’t miss the trace of jealousy within her hazel gaze. if that’s how she wanted to do this, you were about to go in for the kill.

“mhm. sorta like how i’m cool with you going with jeremy ford.”

lana furrowed her brows in confusion at your statement.

“what’s that supposed to mean, y/n?”

“lana, let’s not play games. i’ve told you about my crush on him, you tell me that i should go for him, but then here you are, on his arm here tonight! what’s crazier is that i had to find out from clark and pete.” you comment cutting your gaze over at chloe, letting her know that she wasn’t out of the woods for her role in this disaster.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know that i had to tell you every single that happens in my life. especially in who i date. besides, he was the only one who asked me and i just went along with it because neither of you never made a move!” lana made a valid point, but the mystery was why didn’t she just give you a head’s up, so you still combatted her claim.

“lana. i don’t give a damn about who you date because obviously you didn’t when you and clark got together, knowing that chloe and i had feelings for him. it hurt us, yes, but you were decent enough to say it to our faces because our friendship mattered. i’m not even sure if that’s true now because this time, you just told chloe. i get that she’s roommate, but why? why couldn’t tell me—

“because i didn’t want you telling clark that i’ve moved on so quickly, okay? i’m not exactly over him and he didn’t ask me, so i felt that i didn’t have a choice.” the word vomit spews after she you cuts off. you all take a beat of silence before she continues,

“i’ve seen how close you two have been getting. i-i don’t know what it is, but suddenly he’s like an open book when he’s around you. even when we were together, on and off, he’d never be that way with me, so i guess i didn’t tell you because i was afraid you’d run off and tell him in a heartbeat. i-i guess i went out with jeremy and didn’t tell you because i was—”

it was now your turn to cut her off.

“jealous?”

conceding, lana silently nodded. it’s amazing how she was so quick to call clark a coward back in the past and pressure him for a truth she wasn’t sure she could even handle, but now look at her. being secretive all because of her obsession with clark exposing himself as who he truly is while they were together.

“wow, so i guess that dance really burned you up. didn’t it, lana? now you see what happens when you’re not completely honest with people who you claim to be their friend.” you sharply retort, venom in your tone.

“y/n, i’m—” she started to speak, but stopped as she did a double take to the male in question heading in your direction. speak of the devil—well, alien in your case. as if his timing weren’t perfect enough, clark had finally appeared with two cups of punch along with two decorated cupcakes. your favorite dessert.

“i hope i didn’t keep you waiting that long, y/n. there was a long line for the both bathroom and the snacks.” he chuckled as his eyes took notice of his friends, but he felt there was something that went down between you. there was a tension and the vibe wasn’t very pleasant.

“lana, chloe hey!” he cordially greets them both while handing you the refreshments. he grins as your facial expression softens in contentment at the sight of the delicacies, you thank him as you take it into your hands. he makes small talk with lana and chloe, asking them if they’re enjoying the event in which they respond with a “yes” and “mhm” as they nod. it was only a matter of time before what you were worrying about came to fruition. although you were glad at his presence, he could see that you were clearly uncomfortable with the girls sitting at your sides. clark kent guaranteed a good night for both of you, so he had to do what he had to do.

“i’d hate to intrude, but you guys mind if i sat with y/n? i believe i owe her some quality time back for being away for so long.” he requests, awaiting for the girls departure. as soon as lana and chloe heard the words, “quality time”, they instantly acknowledged that he wanted to sit with you, alone. after witnessing what happened, chloe saw it in their best interest if they did leave you and clark alone. no matter how much lana wanted to stay, she still had jeremy to entertain for the night.

“that’s no problem! we were actually just leaving.” with that, chloe stood and took lana’s arm, whisking them both to the other side of the gym before lana could say another word. clark took the seat that chloe had sat in, he peered over to see you happily, but silently indulging in the cupcake. although he didn’t want to ruin the vibe, he still had a hunch and questioned you about what happened previously in his absence.

“hey—are you okay? it looked like you wanted to get out of there.” it was sweet of him to check in on you so you just gave it to him straight.

“yeah, i’ll be fine, clark. lana and i had a fight. it was obviously about jeremy and—” you paused, gazing in his direction, “other things, but i don’t wanna talk about it now. i’m still gonna have a good night with you.” you glance over to the area where the photo-booth station is. “it looks like the line at the photo-booth is slowing down. let’s get a picture after i’m done.”

“yeah, sure! i’m up for that it’s gonna be fun.” he enthusiastically nods, agreeing to the next step.

“you gonna eat that?” you question gesturing to the cupcake that was still in his hand. you had this habit where he would have a morsel of food and you would always ask if he would finish it. no matter what, clark would always give it to you and this was no different. with a chuckle, he gave in. you didn’t notice that some icing had spread to the corner of your lip, but he did.

“hey, hold still. you got something right—” he paused, using his hand to guide your chin, so that you could be face to face. with a gentle swipe of his thumb, the icing disappears. “there.” he finishes, “don’t want anything to spoil our photo op, now would we?” you both erupt in giggles. after serving him a thank you, you both refresh with some punch and make your way to the short line of the photo booth. you two carry on in casual conversation as the first two couples go in, do their thing, and come out leaving with one strip of about five photos. it was now your turn to go in the rectangular booth. it was a bit of a squeeze. given clark’s tall stature. there was a bench, but it looked like it could only hold one person once clark sat down. you inwardly thought a “bless his heart” as his body almost took up the whole bench. still standing, you giggle when he’s about to push the “start” button and you both see a ten second countdown presented on the screen.

“clark! how are we supposed to take pictures when i can’t even sit down? now, i only have five seconds.”

he gazed at you and simply patted his leg, suggesting you’d sit there. you frantically shake your head, quickly declining his offer. you weren’t sure if you should cross that line in this tight space with the your brother’s best friend.

“i know it may look weird to you, but we literally don’t have time. i’m good with it, so c’mon!” he urges, laughing.

“clark, no!” you resist not containing your own chuckles. you’re hysterical as he grasps your wrist and pulls your body to his, so that you were sitting upon his leg. you both look at the direction of the screen count to one and then you hear the first click as it captured your giggling faces. another timer starts when you shift to a normal pose of you wrapping an arm around his shoulder and his around your waist. you both promptly smile for the second time. at the third click, he’s gazing at your profile smiling while you stick your tongue out while throwing up a peace sign. at the fourth, you look over at him to match the never ceasing eye contact which the camera captures. as the timer starts for the final photo, your head is spinning as your senses are all over the place. within these last ten seconds, you look down at his rose red lips while his arm pulls you in closer on his lap. you free hand goes on a journey to reach for his jawline where your fingers graze against the sharp edge of the bone before stopping to completely hold his face. clark leans forward, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. your awaiting lips barely ghosting over one another. both of your eyes shut as you pass the point of no return. at the final click, it captures the moment of you and clark kent, tenderly kissing each other for the first time. you’re both lost in the kiss between you lingers for a few more seconds before you open your eyes and the realization of what you’re doing dawns on you.

what the hell just happened?

as if you inherited kryptonian speed, you shoot up from your place on clark’s lap and hastily walk out of the gym towards the back exit. without wasting time, clark called out for you in protest snd was swift enough to collect your photo strip and jog in the direction of where you left. when you pushed open the door, you stood with your back against the brick wall as you let the hot tears cascade down your brown cheeks. you didn’t care if your mascara was running, what were you thinking? you loved the kiss, you loved clark. it was obvious that he was enjoying it as much as you did, but did it hold that same sentiment for him as it did for you? you cross your arms, scolding yourself for being such a hypocrite. you just told lana off for going out with a guy you liked while you, her trusted friend, kissed her ex-boyfriend. you weren’t having a good night and it all seemed so screwed up now.

you sob quietly and stop when you hear the door creak open to reveal clark. he softly calls your name and attempts to reach out to you, but you turn from him and wipe away at your face.

“clark, w-we shouldn’t have done that! we should not have done that.” you reiterate, and start to ramble after you turn to face him again, “clark, what about pete? what’s he gonna say if he finds out? it was already hard enough when you told us about your secret, but i don’t want you to lose him as a friend because of me. i don’t want to lose you because i love you and our friendship too much for that to happen.” silently, he looks down at and you pause, sobbing out your confession.

“you want to know why lana didn’t tell me about jeremy? she’s mad because of how close we’re getting. she’s mad because i know a part of you that she doesn’t, clark— and you know what? i love how close we’ve been getting. i love that you can be honest with me without holding back. i love that you can come to me about the issues with your family. i love that you use your abilities to help and protect others, including me. now i don’t blame her for getting jealous because—” you stop to take his hands within your own and stare straight into his eyes, finally mustering up the courage to say, “i love you, clark. i love you so much. alien or not, it’ll never change how i’ve felt about you. you may think it all you want, but you’re not a monster and you’re not a freak of nature. you’re you. that’s why i’ll always be there for you the best that i can, clark. whether you feel the same way or not.”

clark’s heart raced as he absorbed your words, the weight of your recent confession hanging thick in the air as you wait for an answer, any sign for how he felt. he felt a warmth spread through him, his mind trailing back through memories of late-night conversations, stolen glances, and moments filled with unspoken understanding between you two.

“i-i…don’t know what to say,” he finally uttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“then show me, clark.” you softly urged with a firmness not daring to break eye contact, “you either stay or leave. you make the call.”

deep inside him, something stirred—a realization that had been hiding deep in the shadows of his heart that’s been there all along. as he looked into your brown eyes, the intensity of your gaze opened something within. so gingerly, he stepped closer, his breath hitching as he reached out to cup your face in his hands. “y/n, i—i want to stay. i want to give you the chance that you deserve because you’ve always been there for me and you just get me. you’re the only girl i can truly be myself with and when you said that you don’t see me as a freak, it only confirmed what i’ve been feeling.”

he gulped, his gaze softening upon your figure as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat before concluding his statement,

“what if i showed you—that i believe what we did in the photo-booth wasn’t a mistake?”

“oh, clark.” you sigh out in resolve before placing your hands on his shoulders, promptly leaning in, and finally closing the distance of your lips for the second time. the first time was gentle, magical, and tender. this kiss however, had more desperation and your movements more fervent. he backed himself up against the wall, naturally guiding you closer, so your bodies were connected. he snakes his arms securely around your waist while your lips move in sync with each other. you lean your head back, sighing as he holds your jaw to sensually entrap your full bottom lip within his. if you wanted to know the feeling of being drunk, this, right here, had to be the epitome of it when you took the bold step of swirling your tongue around his. a hum vibrates deep from his chest and into your mouth when he plays along. this was it—no more doubt, no more guarding your hearts against the unknowns of what you could be together.

while you were lost in each other, lana lang had wanted to find you so, she could hopefully talk things out with you after the confrontation. she left jeremy behind and stepped out of the gym, trying seeking you amidst the crowd before going outside and around to the back of the school. ever so stealthily, her steps faltered as she caught sight of you, her friend, and clark, her ex, caught in the rapture of the most passionate of kisses. she didn’t dare to utter a word nor spoil the moment with an outburst. she didn’t want to ruin things than they already were between you. feeling a mixed pang of hurt, anger, jealousy and defeat, the last thread of hope snapped inside her. with the sting of her watering hazel eyes, she turned back to quietly retreat and find chloe, so they could immediately go home. now, she was leaving behind the remnants of what could have been between her and clark, while you and him are unaware of the heartbreak left lingering in the night.

[nerdygaymormon]

Be Your Authentic Self

Sometimes we talk about “living our authentic life” or “being our authentic self,” and people don’t understand that, especially non-queer people. 

I have met a number of parents soon after their child has come out to them. They are a bit stunned, they feel kinda lost because suddenly the clear path they had for their child’s future now is hazy. Many parents think my child is still the person I knew before they came out, why do they want to make different choices now?

I’ve seen Mormon parents get a lot of comfort from seeing their child making the “right” choices in their life. Often they don’t get that the child is performing these choices in order to make their parents, families, and community comfortable, to keep the peace. 

For example, a child says they reject the anti-queer teachings of the leaders, and maybe even says that has led them to not believe in this church, but the parents still require their child to come along to church, they want their child to hold class/quorum leadership positions, to participate in blessing/passing of the Sacrament. All these things bring comfort to the parent, in a way what they see is more important than what their child is saying.

Being authentic means you're true to your own personality, values, and spirit, regardless of the pressure that you're under to act otherwise.

There is a lot of pressure in the LDS Community to conform and perform. There’s a lot of pressure to go on a mission, to go to Institute or the BYU schools, to date the right person with whom you can get married in the temple. We put pressure on moms to sacrifice themselves & their desires for their spouse and children. We want people to perform in certain ways even if that isn’t a reflection of how they feel and who they are. 

A child announcing they are queer feels like they’ve chosen another tribe and rejects the things which unites the family. From the child’s perspective, they didn’t choose, it was a long wrestle to identify and accept this is part of who they are. When they come out they are being authentic and taking a risk as to whether they’re going to be allowed to stay in the family tribe.

Coming out is a courageous step. Choosing to be authentic in your choices and how you choose to live, that also takes courage. 

[thetardigrape]

Something I think gets lost in analysis of Viktor's arc through Jayvik shipping goggles is Viktor's desire for legacy.

It's one of two things he says he has to sacrifice: love and legacy. And from the beginning, he wanted a legacy: "Do you think it was my life's ambition to be an assistant?" He wanted to change the world, yes, but he also wanted to be known for changing the world.

And then Jayce, the boy with the marketable good looks, gets all the credit. Jayce's face is on the merch, Jayce is giving the Progress Day speech, Jayce is on the council. The disabled boy from the Undercity is never going to achieve those dreams, even though he was just as much a part of creating Hextech.

That's where the real split happens: when Viktor keeps chasing legacy while Jayce grapples with meeting expectations. Viktor has the added pressure of knowing he's dying. He tries to grasp a little more life, hold on a little longer so he can secure his place.

Even when he realizes the hexcore is dangerous, he's still reaching for legacy. The Herald, the Commune, the Glorious Evolution, all of it centers him as the one who changes the world, the one who makes it all happen. It grants him his legacy.

It's only when he realizes, a lifetime of loneliness into that legacy, that legacy without love is worthless. He changed the world and everyone knew it, and in doing so he sacrificed the whole world and everyone in it.

That's what "this" is that he needs Jayce to show him: that legacy without love has no meaning. In the end, Viktor chooses love over legacy, and it's the thing that saves the world.

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

Hey y'all it's another Wednesday <3 I'm scheduling this as I gotta be at the airport tomorrow morning. Probably won't be until the evening but I'm gonna carve out time to see the wips as I love seeing what everyone is doing <3 Thank you @firefly-factory for the tag this morning 🥰

Tagging: @theoneandonlysemla @dirty-bosmer @lucien-lachance @umbracirrus @changelingsandothernonsense

@bougainvillea-and-saltwater @pocket-vvardvark @hircines-hunter @captain-of-silvenar @ladytanithia

I'm currently writing a fic called I'm only happy when I'm with you because it has Theodora/Ondolemar confessing their feelings but was the second fic I wrote for them so, they deserve better! Setting is Windhelm just after the Civil War you ever be so down bad you go to Windhelm to tell a woman you love her Suggestive part so I'll stick it under the cut

It’s not lost on Ondolemar how bizarre it is to do this here. The business of mixing work and pleasure was becoming the norm for him but, confessing his feeling inside the Temple of Talos was a newer, more deranged level of odd. Though, Theodora had tried to convince him to have a liaison inside the shrine in Markarth, citing that “No one will be there, and if they are, you get to do your civic duty.” Her incredibly sound logic was not enough to sway him into leaving the comforts of the Keep, but perhaps now, she may get what she wanted. If he ignored the obvious massive statue, the lowlight of scones could be considered romantic. For now, there was nowhere else they could be alone. Praying that things go well, he can tell her somewhere better, multiple places far mor suitable of such words.

The woman who plagues his dreams walks around, inspecting the different parts of the. simple hall. Poking her head into what was the priest’s quarters, she makes a remark. 

“Oh there’s even a bed here.” She gazes lowly at him. “How awfully convenient for us.” Walking closer, she pulls on his robes. The feeling distracts him yet again.

“Theodora, in a temple? In such a holy place? Have you no shame?” 

“You” there’s an emphasis on the word “of all people, do not get to say that. Need I remind you of your position, Thalmor Justiciar Ondolemar?” It would be  fun to give in now. His eyes floating between the hungry look in hers and her lips, imaging how good they would feel on his after months. It would be very fun to have their uniforms strewn across the temple floor, but he did not come all this way for merely fun. Regaining will, he speaks. 

“As much as I desire you right now, I have something I need to tell you first.” The look in her eyes upsets him, face slightly falling and he is quick to reassure her. “Do not fret, nothing is wrong, quite the opposite rather.”

The Thalmor had done his groveling. Drunken guilt-ridden prayers and pleads going unanswered as he was forced to contend with the gravity of the situation; he did in fact love her and the acceptability of his feelings mattered not. Grand stories always positioned love on the winning side, the side of the virtuous, how could it be wrong when the act of doing so came so effortlessly? The choice to voluntarily come all the way to Windhelm was an easy one, despite the fact this mission did not demand someone of his rank and the weather was atrocious. She would be there, that had been enough to haul himself across the province. Once accepted in himself, it would not rest until spoken. She needed to know, how desperate he was to know if she felt the same and wondered if their last discussion had been indicative that she did. Had her pain surrounding love been the start of a confession? “You told me once you do not do love. The loss of your mother, and your father’s subsequent grief left you fearful of it. I understand that, you rightly feel afraid, I see why you don’t do love,” there are small droplets forming in the corner of her eyes. Wiping them away, he continues “but I do.” Her face softens as she grasps his hand. “I have made a myriad of excuses to convince myself I do not feel what I do. It is embarrassing the lengths I went to in an effort to convince myself I felt nothing for you, that your laughter did not brighten my day, that your thoughts were not compelling, that someone I was taught to hate could never be my greatest joy. Yet, there is only one rational.” The words are caught in his throat as he turns away, needing a moment to collect himself. The fear of finally verbalizing these thoughts is eclipsed by the worry that all of this is one side. He is alone in this insanity. Looking back at her, he finds the courage, wide-eyed and lips slightly curling up. “I love you, Theodora.”

“You do?” 

“I do.” He sighs slightly, unable to meet her gaze in case of rejection. 

Logically, it would be understandable. Opposing sides, duties to their respective nations, they were very much in opposition. She was their prophesied Dragonborn, now a war hero as much as she hadn’t yearned to be. All this in addition to being the most beautiful woman in all of Tamriel. She could do far better than him, far better than an invader of her homeland but he wanted her. Selfishly wanted her even if all he could promise was love. 

“Are you certain you know what you are saying?”

“I’ve never been more so, I love you.” He reaches for her other hand, clutching them both tightly to warm them. “I know I have nothing to offer you. I cannot make you any promises about the future, I cannot be with you openly, I cannot change some of the things I have done” a small concession to remedy the things he doesn’t have the strength to speak about. In time, in time. “You deserve much better, I completely understand if you do not-” The sentence ends midway, cut off as she pulls his robes, bringing their lips together.

[kunikame]

venus, planet of love. - mitsuki i.

warning(s) : hurt/comfort, mitsukis inferiority complex, i7 are the planets dont ask me why just read the fic, i love u izumi mitsuki u are so me w/c : 1619

you know love is real because izumi mitsuki exists, and he is full of it.

mitsuki loves many things – he loves iori, ZERO, re:vale, idolish7, his parents, the bakery, .. the list goes on endlessly, for izumi mitsuki is love itself. he is a lover through and through, he was raised with love enveloping him all around, and he spreads it around to everyone shamelessly and selflessly.

the only thing mitsuki doesn’t really love is himself – he is second. always, always second.

second to his genius younger brother, secondary to all his group members, always the kid picked last unless iori was the leader.

there was nothing particularly wrong with him that made it this way, he was, simply put, mediocre. a jack of all trades but master of none, if you will.

so you can imagine it didn’t quite surprise him to be less popular than his group mates by a huge margin. he didn’t stand out with anything, he had nothing for himself that would make him stand out – he wasn’t too likeable. he was aware of this, he has known this for a while – but it still hit him quite hard.

it was horrible, really, to see a light so bright become dim because it cannot see itself – it only sees the other lights, and becomes lost in their glow, mistakenly led to believe he does not shine at all.

it certainly does a number on the sight to gaze directly at the sun.

perhaps if he was brighter, if he was made of something different, he, too, would shine – would be loved.

you’ve always compared idolish7 to the planets in the sky, and fittingly so, as to you, a friend and fan, they are the center of a greater something. something only they can create, something that is tried and tested and truly theirs, because they shine brighter than all the stars combined, and because they deserve to have their place in the universe.

if nanase riku is the sun, a sense of purpose, then iori izumi is the moon, instinct. nikaido yamato is jupiter, expansion. nagi rokuya is saturn, responsibility. tamaki yotsuba is uranus, freedom. osaka sogo is mercury, adaptability. 

izumi mitsuki is venus, love.

for it is not love if it is not izumi mitsuki. it is not izumi mitsuki if it is not love.

you just wish he knew that.

which is exactly why when he got offers to mc on variety shows, you encouraged him to take them, to try them – maybe he’ll end up liking them. he is really funny, after all, a natural conversationalist. he is exactly the type variety mc’s like to interview the most, you’re almost certain he would be good at the job.

and he was – he was so good, in fact, he earned idolish7 their very own namesake show, with him as the mc.

he finally had something for himself, something that was purely his, something that defined and solidified his place in idolish7. something that made him irreplaceable.

seeing mitsuki try so earnestly and work so hard, you honestly didn’t know what to do. sometimes, you’d want to say “good luck!”, but other times you feel a “you don’t have to work so hard” would be better, as he was literally working himself to the bone to please everyone he possibly could – for what is he, if not love?

he never desired whatever side parts come with fame – he simply wanted to make people happy. that was his one true ambition, his goal. he doesn’t need anyone to love him, as long as they love the things he loves – as long as they love idolish7. it would sting, of course, to be left behind, to be unfavored, but he supposed he could live with that reality. he was finally accepted after all those failed auditions, he was doing what he loved, with the people he loved by his side.

he believed he could somehow get used to being disliked.

being disliked for doing something he loved however, that was a different story. 

he thought by mc-ing he could get closer to the others in popularity – and, from a certain point, it was true – his popularity did rise a bit, and he definitely did receive more fan letters and positive comments now, but the fated encounter and the unfortunate “he’s so annoying, i wish he would shut up” would continue to ring in his head for a long while to come.

he has just built up his confidence and stability like a fine tower of cards, fearing the slightest gust of wind lest it gets knocked off and tumbles onto his wooden desk in a messy pile – but instead, someone kicked the desk and the cards flew off and onto the cold, harsh ground, such a far distance off.

nagi had attempted to salvage the situation to the best of his ability, but lifting the cards off the ground isn’t going to rebuild the tower – mitsuki will have to do that himself.

handing him the cards while he does so was a simple act of kindness on your part.

“mitsuki?”

he startles mid stretch, an earbud falling out as he turns his head.

“[name]? what are you still doing here?”

“i was looking for you, then i ran into iori– he said i’d find you here,” you made your way over to sit next to him on the floor, sharing a look through the mirror facing you, “what are you doing here so late?”

“y’know, just practicing. gotta catch up and stuff, haha.”

“you’re already good enough as you are, mitsuki. you don’t need to chase after anything or anyone.”

he heaves an exhausted sigh, fiddling with the wires from his earbuds, “i do, though. i’m smaller than the others so i’m often off beat during the choreographies. i need to do more work to make sure i stay on.”

“you shouldn’t work so hard all the time. you’re tearing yourself apart trying to do this and that all at the same time – i understand your intentions, but i feel the way you’re going about them is going to bring you ruin in the end. as a friend first and fan second, i care for your health, and i don’t want to see you destroy yourself.”

“i’m not as good as them th–”

“yes, you are. you’re too absorbed in seeing them as the brightest lights to see yourself shining just as much as them. popularity polls don’t define who you are as a person, or how much you work, or how hard you try. the others know that, though, and so do i. we all see how much effort and care you put into your work, mitsuki – we know you pour out your heart and soul into everything you do, desperately trying to make it the best, trying to make people happy with you, and you do. the disapproving voices simply sound louder to you at this point in time, because those are the ones you’re most exposed to. it is however not hatred and dislike that kills entertainers, it’s love.”

the ginger listened attentively, taking your monologue in, dissecting it bit by bit. though he seems to disagree, he does understand your view and he respects it – he just doesn’t quite understand. he looks up at the mirror, staring in your eyes through it, and his seem to shimmer a tad more than they normally would under the studio lights.

“why love?”

the smile on your face feels a little melancholy, and again, he finds himself not understanding why.

“love can be overbearing and suffocating. sometimes we love things too much – so much we would kill just to keep them to ourselves. we destroy ourselves in an effort to make our loved ones happy or proud, completely blind to our surroundings becoming hazy and hard to navigate, and when you come to, you find you’re all alone in a room once filled with people. love changes, sometimes not in a good way. much like the stars burn up and disappear, the planets, too, will be destroyed by the sun,” you turn to him then, and there is a singular tear streaming down his face. you reach out to wipe it with your finger, and he blinks, “i don’t want to see that happen to you, because to me, you are love.”

“the destructive kind?”

“no, the beautiful kind. i see pieces of you in everything i hold dear, because i hold you dear.”

you see him smile for the first time that night, and it is beautiful, blindingly so – brighter than the white leds above his head. 

“i hold you dear, too.”

there’s a comfortable silence as you gaze at each other, the instrumental to their new song faintly heard from his long discarded earbuds on the floor.

“hey, did you know venus is the brightest planet naturally visible in the night sky?”

perhaps the planet of love itself was destroyed by being loved too much, but not izumi mitsuki – never izumi mitsuki.

izumi mitsuki loved many things. he loved iori, ZERO, re:vale, idolish7 – the list goes on. he was a lover, raised to love the things and people around himself.

“oh, really?”

but izumi mitsuki was also loved. loved by his fans, group mates, parents – by you.

the izumi mitsuki you knew had his love returned to him tenfold by his surroundings – be it the flowers his eyes linger on, the deep orange hues of the setting sun as they caress his face, the stray pets he feeds when he sees them – everything.

the izumi mitsuki you know is loved.

“yeah.”

maybe one day he will learn to love himself, too. 

ੈ✩₊˚TAGLIST : @gabirii //ask/comment or fill form to be added/removed! (if you’re in bold i can’t tag you)

[avpdvoidspace]

I don't like to reblog posts just to disagree with them, but maybe screenshotting them for the same reason is also an asshole move. I don't know. Anyway, I just want to say that for some people, it's the opposite, myself included. In the past few years, I've kind of decided to take a break from trying to make friends, and I feel like it's healing something for me. In the past, in order to have friends, I've had to try to mold myself into something I wasn't or try to be upfront about avpd and how it might make our friendship different from what they expect, and tbh people have just used those things to try to manipulate me and be an asshole to me. Or if they weren't shitty people, they just kind of drifted away and lost contact with me. Just being like 'well I don't want to bother with that for a while because I think it's bad for my mental health and taking up a lot of time and emotional energy I'd rather put toward other things' has been really nice. Overall, I feel better and more myself. I don't know if that's ever going to change and I'll want to try to make friends again, because for the most part, that's been an overwhlemingly negative experience for me, and for the time being, I don't really feel a desire for it. Generally I agree that the structural issues that encourage alienation are bad and harmful, but I personally am pretty okay with being alone most of the time.

[un-hinges]

I’ve gotten so used to not being able to see you everyday, so used to it that I can hope and go through days just fine without you here. I can be alone or with friends and I would be happy. But when I suddenly see couples together laughing, looking into each others eyes, smiling, cuddling, or even simply holding hands; that’s when I suddenly don’t feel strong and my heart starts to ache and I feel like breaking down. I try to stay strong everyday, I mean, that’s what I’ve been doing for all this time but I’m always going to see a couple and wish you were here with me, right next to me. It sucks, it sucks so much that I can’t hug, see, or just simply be with the person I love so much but this is a decision that we both made and I don’t regret it. Distance was how we found each other. Distance will never separate us emotionally.

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[codacheetah]

5 for the isat ask game!

5 - What's your favorite optional event?

VERY TOUGH ONE TO ANSWER. I'm gonna go right ahead and disqualify twohats bc it's a predictable answer. If I had to choose just one though I think it'd probably be the sus event. It really got my goat on my first playthrough bc I didn't realize you had to do it in ACT 4. If I remember correctly I think sus is the only optional event locked to ACT 4??? Now that I've actually done it though I'm quite fond of it.

Sus event is one that you really have to go out of your way to do. It kind of reminds me of the True Ending in SASASAP but More and I'm sure that's intentional. Like the requirements for sus quest necessitate that you're going to do it, if not the loop before ACT 5, very soon before it. You have to know pretty much everything about Time Craft and Wish Craft already, so whatever you're doing in the loops now is basically taking out any optional stuff before you hit the end. You have to pretty thoroughly remember how the script goes just so you know all the best ways to break it. I feel like if the True Ending route is Loop going through the motions so many times that they can't deal with holding their facade together any longer, the sus route is Siffrin waving a big red flag around for help. There's just no way you're going to stumble into sus without preplanning what to do to rack up your points and make Odile aware of how Wish Craft works.

So I think it's interesting how much Siffrin pushes back against Odile trying to figure him out. It's a pattern of behavior that I am well aware of where you're desperately going "HELP ME" but you're not willing to accept it when it's offered to you.

Siffrin spends an entire loop screwing everything up, to a point that's frankly kind of egregious even by Late Stage Timeloopers standards, and then they can't reckon with the consequences of it. I don't think sus event is as intentional of a cry for help for Siffrin as it is the player, mind you. But I do think it's. Very tragic. Yeah of course "it's too late" in the sense that Siffrin's about to talk to Euphie and the whole journey will end, but moreso it's that by the time that Odile can piece together all the information necessary to figure Siffrin out, Siffrin is just far too deeply entrenched in his self hatred and fear of abandonment to be dug out. I think if Odile could somehow figure it out in, like, early ACT 3, or if Isabeau was just a bit more pushy in getting Siffrin to do a feelings talk, maybe they'd actually be able to reach Siffrin a little. But they're always just a little too late, every single time.

I think the fact that you start really getting a bunch of weird points in ACT 3 gives this event a lot of buildup. For potential dozens of loops you'll see Odile brush against the truth of the situation, and then just barely miss. By the time she figures it out, it's too late. Explodes

Expounded upon slightly more in tags bc I don't like typing in post bodies I feel like a fish on land. eek

[zukkaoru]

sorry i'm thinking abt megumi's incessant desire to be the first to die vs. the narrative keeping him alive despite and how the most tragic ending for him is not actually dying, but being left behind. for megumi, the worst fate is living a long life

[moeblob]

What Deacon thinks: what did that mean? did he want me to wear a collar too? why else would he mention my neck? i mean, if he /asked/ me i would wear one but he didn't so would wearing one be weird?

What Ymber meant: It's nice to be near someone who isn't tethered to this world to serve it with a physical reminder for all to see.

[pinky-in-blankets]

Hello and please can you make my and your oc interact with each other

Well I was gonna but now I don't wanna.

[blessedmoonsoul]

and yes im very biased but it's the same shit happening with bey's album rn ppl are so funny even the ones that are begrudgingly admitting they're bopping to it still trying to find ways to insult and pick apart that lady's undeniable talent lol. you just look stupid hello!