#watch me notice like 50 mistakes right after this is posted then take this down immediately and then spend 5 hours fixing it

[steakout-05]

(DISCLAIMER: as of the 17th of August 2024, it was revealed that Craig is directly related to Barry, which obviously makes my Crarry art very awkward. this is here to say this was made before any of that was revealed and obviously wasn't intended to be a ship about... that.)

it's a bit late, but here's the finished art for Jetpack Joyride's 13th anniversary! i can't even begin to tell you about all the memories i've had with this awesome game! here's to another decade of jetpack-related chaos!!

(i gotta clarify that the champagne bottle is referenced from an official JJ artwork for the apple soda jetpack and that the 13 might look a little wonky because i'm not very good at lettering,,,)

+ a few bonus wip screenshots under the cut (only a few though cause i didn't screenshot my progress as much)

(craig was gonna have a beer glass but i decided to just have the red cup instead because it was easier to draw lol)

that's all i screenshat,,, screenshotted before i went into Ultra Autism Focus Mode™ and finished the art,,,

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How copyright filters lead to wage-theft

Last week, "Marina" - a piano teacher who publishes free lessons her Piano Keys Youtube channel - celebrated her fifth anniversary by announcing that she was quitting Youtube because her meager wages were being stolen by fraudsters.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WcyOxtkafMs

Marina posted a video with a snatch of her performance of Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata," published in 1801. The composition is firmly in the public domain, and the copyright in the performance is firmly Marina's, but it still triggered Youtube's automated copyright filter.

A corporate entity - identified only by an alphabet soup of initialisms and cryptic LLC names - had claimed Ole Ludwig Van's masterpiece as their own, identifying it as "Wicca Moonlight."

Content ID, the automated Youtube filter, flagged Marina's track as an unauthorized performance of this "Wicca Moonlight" track. Marina appealed the automated judgement, which triggered a message to this shadowy LLC asking if they agreed that no infringement had taken place.

But the LLC renewed its claim of infringement. Marina now faces several unpleasant choices:

She can allow the LLC to monetize her video, stealing the meager wages she receives from the ads that appear on it

She can take down her video

She can provide her full name and address to Youtube in order to escalate the claim, with the possibility that her attackers will get her contact details, and with the risk that if she loses her claim, she can lose her Youtube channel

The incident was a wake-up call for Marina, who is quitting Youtube altogether, noting that it has become a place that favors grifters over creators. She's not wrong, and it's worth looking at how that happened.

Content ID was created to mollify the entertainment industry after Google acquired Youtube. Google would spend $100m on filtering tech that would allow rightsholders to go beyond the simple "takedown" permitted by law, and instead share in revenues from creative uses.

But it's easy to see how this system could be abused. What if people falsely asserted copyright over works to which they had no claim? What if rightsholders rejected fair uses, especially criticism?

In a world where the ownership of creative works can take years to untangle in the courts and where judges' fair use rulings are impossible to predict in advance, how could Google hope to get it right, especially at the vast scale of Youtube?

The impossibility of automating copyright judgments didn't stop Google from trying to perfect its filter, adding layers of complexity until Content ID's appeal process turned into a cod-legal system whose flowchart looks like a bowl of spaghetti.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/12/fairy-use-tale/#content-id

The resulting mess firmly favors attackers (wage stealers, fraudsters, censors, bullies) over defenders (creators, critics). Attackers don't need to waste their time making art, which leaves them with the surplus capacity to master the counterintuitive "legal" framework.

You can't fix a system broke by complexity by adding more complexity to it. Attempts to do so only makes the system more exploitable by bad actors, like blackmailers who use fake copyright claims to extract ransoms from working creators.

https://torrentfreak.com/youtube-strikes-now-being-used-as-scammers-extortion-tool/

But it would be a mistake to think that filterfraud was primarily a problem of shadowy scammers. The most prolific filter scammers and wage-thieves are giant music companies, like Sony Music, who claim nearly *all* classical music:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/22/crisis-for-thee-not-me/#filternet

The Big Tech companies argue that they have an appeals process that can reverse these overclaims, but that process is a joke. Instagram takedowns take a few seconds to file, but *28 months* to appeal.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/17/cheap-truthers/#robot-sez-no

The entertainment industry are flagrant filternet abusers. Take Warner Chappell, whose subsidiary demonetizes videos that include the numbers "36" and "50":

https://www.dexerto.com/entertainment/annemunition-bizarre-copyright-strike-youtube-random-numbers-1317750/

Warner Chappell are prolific copyfraudsters. For decades, they fraudulently claimed ownership over "Happy Birthday" (!):

https://consumerist.com/2016/02/09/happy-birthday-song-settlement-to-pay-out-14-million-to-people-who-paid-to-use-song/

They're still at it - In 2020 they used a fraudulent claim to nuke a music theory video, and then a human being working on behalf of the company renewed the claim *after* being informed that they were mistaken about which song was quoted in the video:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/05/warner-chappell-copyfraud/#warnerchappell

The fact that automated copyright claims can remove material from the internet leads to a lot of sheer fuckery. In 2019, anti-fascists toyed with blaring copyrighted music at far right rallies to prevent their enemies from posting them online.

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/07/23/clever-hack-that-will-end-badly-playing-copyrighted-music-during-nazis-rallies-so-they-cant-be-posted-to-youtube/

At the time, I warned that this would end badly. Just a month before, there had been a huge scandal because critics of extremist violence found that automated filters killed their videos because they featured clips of that violence:

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/06/06/people-who-document-evidence-of-violent-extremism-are-being-shut-down-in-youtubes-crackdown-on-violent-extremism/

Since then, it's only gotten worse. The Chinese Communist Party uses copyfraud to remove critical videos from Youtube:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/27/literal-gunhumping/#communist-bandit

and so does the Beverley Hills Police Department:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/10/duke-sucks/#bhpd

But despite all that, the momentum is for *more* filtering, to remove far fuzzier categories of content. The EU's Terror Regulation has just gone into effect, giving platforms just *one hour* to remove "terrorist" content:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/04/eu-online-terrorism-regulation-bad-deal

The platforms have pivoted from opposing filter rules to endorsing them. Marc Zuckerberg says that he's fine with removing legal protections for online platforms unless they have hundreds of millions of dollars to install filters.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/25/facebook-has-a-facebook-problem/#played-for-zuckers

The advocates for a filternet insist that all these problems can be solved if geeks just *nerd harder* to automate good judgment, fair appeals, and accurate attributions. This is pure wishful thinking. As is so often the case in tech policy, "wanting it badly is not enough."

In 2019, the EU passed the Copyright Directive, whose Article1 7 is a "notice and staydown" rule requiring platforms to do instant takedowns on notice of infringement *and* to prevent content from being re-posted.

There's no way to do this without filters, but there's no way to make filters without violating the GDPR. The EU trying to figure out how to make it work, and the people who said this wouldn't require filters are now claiming that filters are fine.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/11/protocols-of-qanon/#no-filternet

Automating subtle judgment calls is impossible, not just because copyright's limitations - fair use and others - are grounded in subjective factors like "artistic intent," but because automating a flawed process creates flaws at scale.

Remember when Jimmy Fallon broadcasted himself playing a video game? NBC automatically claimed the whole program as its copyrighted work, and thereafter, gamers who streamed themselves playing that game got automated takedowns from NBC.

https://old.reddit.com/r/beatsaber/comments/bi9cp5/beat_saber_stream_blocked_by_jimmy_fallon_show/

The relentless expansion of proprietary rights over our virtual and physical world raises the stakes for filter errors. The new Notre Dame spire will be a copyrighted work - will filters block videos of protests in front of the cathedral?

https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20190425/09282042084/why-your-holiday-photos-videos-restored-notre-dame-cathedral-could-be-blocked-eus-upload-filters.shtml

And ever since the US's 1976 Copyright Act abolished a registration requirement, it's gotten harder to figure out who controls the rights to any work, so that even the "royalty free" music for Youtubers to safely use turned out to be copyrighted:

https://torrentfreak.com/royalty-free-music-supplied-by-youtube-results-in-mass-video-demonetization-191118/

We need a new deal for content removal, one that favors working creators over wage-thieves who have the time and energy to master the crufty, complex private legal systems each platform grows for itself.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/04/content-moderation-broken-let-us-count-ways

Back in 2019, Slate Future Tense commissioned me to write an sf story about how this stuff might work out in the coming years. The result, "Affordances," is sadly still relevant today:

https://slate.com/technology/2019/10/affordances-cory-doctorow-sf-story-algorithmic-bias-facial-recognition.html

Here's a podcast of the story as well:

https://ia803108.us.archive.org/3/items/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_314/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_314_-Affordances.mp3

Meanwhile, governments from Australia to the UK to Canada are adopting "Harmful Content" rules that are poised to vastly expand the filternet, insisting that it's better than the alternative.

https://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/bill-c10-user-generated-content-1.6007192

[lysung]

happy first times - bang chan

you and bang chan's daughter comes back home from school earlier than expected and started acting weird, as if she's hiding something.

A/N: hi hi! sorry for being so inactive, uni had me messed up the whole year :( anyways. it's been quite some time since i wrote and posted anything in here, and i haven't been practicing english often either, i'm not sure if i'm doing anything right in here but i hope it's understandable and enjoyable 😭 also, i'm not sure how things work where you live, but at the elementary school where i studied, if you weren't feeling well, felt lots of pain or anything like this, and no one were home to get you back home, someone specific would drop you home. i wrote this based on this vague memory. you can pretend this happens where you live too if it doesn't lol and a fun fact: i've been struggling trying to pay attention to stuff that i wondered if my mind was still working properly, and after watching a clip of chan talking about periods, i was more than sure it was working very well 🥴. took the chance to write this.

genre: fluff

cw: overflowing cuteness, bang chan being the best man ever you'll ba your eyes out because you still can't believe someone this precious exist.

reader's gender is neutral! your daughter can be biological or adopted if you want to, all up to you! feel comfortable <3

this wasn't proofread because it's literally 6am when i'm posting this and maybe i didn't sleep at all just to finish this, but i'll try to remember to do so later today! pls tell me if you find any mistake too <3

hope you guys enjoy it! requests are open ✨

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

[09:50]

today is a sunny, fresh and bright day. bang chan, your husband, is taking some time off after his promotions were finally over. although you still had to go to work, today's the day when you're supposed to leave earlier. today just couldn't feel any better than this.

while waiting for you, chan was watching tv until he hears a noise coming from the front door. immediately he thought you would be home, but got confused as he saw your daughter coming in by herself.

- baby? what are you doing here this early? you're supposed to be at-

- iknow, i know. one of my teachers had to leave earlier today and she left me here, because you just wouldn't pick up your phone... — she cut him off with a sad and tired gaze, and chan instantly regretted leaving his phone so far from him earlier.

- ohhhh, i'm sorry so sorry my angeeel — he hugged her while carressing her hair, and she just responded with a quiet yet lovely "it's okay, dad" — but are you okay? what happened that you had to come back home this early?

- i just... don't feel good, my stomach aches way too much... but you don't have to worry, they just- they told me to take some medicine and rest for today — she explained, her voice crackling a bit, as if she was looking for the right words and was about to cry.

chan noticed her unusual behaviour and expressions. at first, he didn't intend to tell her about it or get mad, and just decided to pay extra attention for the rest of the day. as she distanced herself from him, he notices something else - the vivid red stain on her pants, on the inner side of her legs.

reality never hit him this hard. both of you were aware she was growing up, that's just how tome works, but once again, time felt like flying. as if watching her taking her first steps, saying her first words, making her first dawings and friends... everything felt like it hadn't been this long. every moment felt like a blessing. everything gives you two a specific feeling that probably no one will ever be able to put in perfect words.

chan felt his eyes tearing up as so many memories flashed one after another, finding himself at loss of words from the insane mix of feelings.

she turned to him to ask for something, just to find him with his head down, coverig his own face with one hand, sobbing quietly. the feeling of rgret instantly filled her up, as she was still confused and scared, fearing bad things to happen. she was so afraid and ashamed that she could barely tell or show it to anyone at school. but she calms down as she hears his words noticeably filled with love:

- my baby... i love you so much. but do you know what's happening to you now? — chan got closer to his precious daughter to hold her face with his hands and stare deeply into her eyes.

- ah, n-no... it's nothing bad, right? everything is gonna be fine, right? — she asked, fear still clear on her eyes and voice.

- no, it's nothing bad. you're just growing up and this is completely normal for you. i'll grab you a cup of warm water, sit down and i'll tell you everything i know about it. but relax, you're fine, baby. — he calmed her down while trying to control his proud smile, and ended with a kiss on her forehead before leaving, taking a little longer as expected to get a bag of warm water as well.

sat down next to each other, she drank her water calmly as she listened to her dad. she always knew how understanding chan can be, but this sudden situation made every kind of thought come to her head to the point nothing from the outside world would get in or make sense to her. yet, each and every word that came out of him would tranquilize her more and more. he felt like heaven to her, and she couldn't feel any more safer and happier with her precious dad.

while she showered and changed, chan left to buy meds and chocolate, hoping it would make her feel at least a little bit better. he spent the next few hours taking care of her as much as possible - making hot chocolate for her, listening to everything she wanted to say, watching her favorite series with her, massaging her wherever it hurted, trying his best to make her feel as comfortable as possible.

- honey, i'm home! — you announced happily after a long and exausting day. work felt endless and you couldn't wait to eat a little bit and sleep a little more. you were about to say something more, until you found the loves of your life sleeping next to each other on your sofabed, a movie playing on the tv, mugs on the tables next to them - a cute, calm smile on your sleeping daughter's face.

you went to the kitchen to grab water and noticed a paper on the table, which said "don't be scared, she's growing up faster than we thought and had her period at school today. she's fine! sorry for not telling you earlier. love you!"

you watched them sleep a little bit more. it was the best view you could have - your incredible and beautiful family. the moment also made you tear up a little bit, but it didn't take long for you to hold it and lay with them. it was unfortunate that you couldn't take care of your daughter as well, but there was nothing to worry or feel upset about. you knew both you and your daughter would be safe and sound if you have bang chan - the best friend, husband, dad and person.

you two couldn't love him any more than this.

[cordria]

Twin Cores - DP

Saw this headcanon on Tumblr… awhile ago? It stuck with me, and I ended up writing this, and now I can’t find it to give the person proper credit. Lemme know if anyone recognizes this idea and knows who came up with it. (heart) 

Was gonna do this idea for the Big Bang thing, but I forgot all about signing up. ;) Wonders. So I’ll just post it and come up with new ideas.

~2,700 words. 

--

Danny floated high above the clouds, up where the air was thin and cold and the stars sparkled brightly overhead. It was terribly late, and Danny knew he’d be paying for this at school tomorrow, but this was always the best part of his week. He couldn’t come up here all the time, but when he cound, he always found himself relaxing. Hands behind his head, he floated on his back, studying the stars.

He let out a breath through his lips and brought a hand forwards to massage his chest, closing his eyes. Yesterday had not been good day. An accident with some of his parents’ technology had completely ruined his day. For reasons Danny didn’t understand, his chest had felt overly full since. Almost like he needed to cough up something - which couldn’t be, because his ghost form didn’t have any real lungs to cough with. 

With a groan, Danny stretched and rolled his body through a bunch of sharp loop-the-loops and twists, hoping maybe he could work out the kink. Nothing. Hopefully it wouldn’t prevent him from getting a good night’s rest. He was exhausted.

He floated for a few minutes longer, watching the sky and hoping for a meteor or two, slowly turning the overfull feeling over in his mind. He pushed and prodded at the odd sensation, trying to come up with what in the world it could be. 

It had to relate to his parents’ invention. Unfortunately, the day was a fuzzy blur in Danny’s memory and if something in particular had happened to him, he wouldn’t be able to remember it on his own. All he could do on his own was a vague understanding of what had happened.

Getting zapped with one of the newer devices yesterday had resulted in Danny getting split - again. His ghost half had fallen captive to the hero-like obsession of his core, and had gone on a hero-spree. A memory of rescuing a cat from a tree in a very overblown, comic-like way surfaced and Danny buried his face in his hands, embarrassed for himself. “Ugh, I hope nobody videoed that. Or anything else,” he muttered.

His human half had wandered aimlessly through the day, not knowing what to do with no driving force behind everything he did. Vague memories of eating pizza and not noticing the ghost haunting the place next door until Sam pointed it out filtered through the shadows. 

From what he remembered, it hadn’t been a horrible sort of day for either half of him. His ghost half had been allowed to play with his obsession all day and his human half had gotten to just be… human. But he’d been split for much longer than ever before; Tucker and Sam were unable to work through how the strange invention worked. 

Danny didn’t remember being much help with the endeavour. In fact, he sort of remembered his human half stealing the device, passing it to his ghost half, and the thing getting placed on top of the school for the afternoon. Jazz finally got it using some of the newer modifications to the Fenton’s vehicle that allowed it to fly. 

By the time the three of them figured out how to reverse the effects, it was late in the evening on the second day - more than 36 hours since being split. Phantom had started to turn more and more ghost, losing more of his humanity each hour, delving deeper and deeper into this hero obsession. His eyes had turned more ghostly, teeth sharpening, fingers turning into claws. Even a cape had started to mist into view.

Danny slowly ran his tongue over his teeth - they were still a bit too sharp - and pulled his hands far enough away from his face to glance at his fingers. They weren’t claws, not like many ghosts had, but… his fingers no longer really looked human. The changes that had happened to his ghost form the last two days appeared to be permanent, even now that they were rejoined back together.

Danny… didn’t want to think about that. Not yet.

And his human half had started to go through changes as well. Danny vaguely remembered - towards the end of the escapade, when he’d convinced himself that he didn’t want to be rejoined with Phantom - trying to avoid everyone and ending up in a tree, floating in a very inhuman way. His totally human form regaining some of its ghost powers.

Danny mentally poked at the odd, full sensation in his chest again. Perhaps it was that his ghost powers had grown while he was separated. Phantom hadn’t been exactly a half-a-ghost when they’d been slammed back together. And Danny had been just a bit of ghost too. Perhaps now he was somehow 60% ghost and 50% human… and his body was trying to adjust to being too much ghost. 

His mind poked at the sensation in his chest just a bit too hard. Danny slammed his eyes shut tight as he felt the sensation of transformation travel through him - lightning sharp and aching into his phantom bones. Panic set in a second later. He couldn’t transform up here - there wasn’t enough oxygen for his human form to breathe. He’d pass out and fall to his death. 

He gasped and threw his arms out, instinctively trying to grab something even though he was on the edge of the atmosphere, as the transformation arced through his arms and legs. He kept his eyes closed as he fumbled for his ghost side. He needed to transform back fast. His human side would already be aching to breathe, desperate for oxygen after the last hour of being in ghost form.

But his ghost side… was… 

Danny opened his eyes as he realized he wasn’t falling. As he realized his ghost form wasn’t something to grab for, because he was still a ghost.

“But…” he whispered, startled and confused. He’d felt himself transform. There was no mistaking the sensation that had swept through him. He looked around, almost as if the answer would be written in the air next to him.

Then the stars caught his gaze. He froze, mouth falling open, as he stared up at the sky. There were more stars than before, the whole sky alight with points of light. And he knew them - with each star he focused his eyes on, he knew what that star was. How far away it was, what it’s name was, what kind of star it was… 

Delight sparkled inside him as he let his gaze drift across the heavens. Stars he didn’t even know existed seemed to soak into his skin, whispering all their secrets in his ears. “How…?” he breathed, twisting around and around and looking everywhere he could. “Why?”

His gaze snagged on the moon, crescent-shaped and gleaming. He almost felt like he was drowning in it’s glow, feeling everything about it. The ice hiding in its craters. The human-built machinery peppering its surface. The soft warmth still coiling in its dying core. He could just… go there. He could be there in about three seconds. He could just…

He threw up a hand, blocking the moon’s glow, blinking hard and pushing the thoughts out of his mind. “Holy shit,” he whispered, breathing hard, focusing on Earth, on human thoughts, on normalcy. “What is this?”

Then he saw his hand, thin fingers topped with sharp claws, glove missing. His forehead furrowed as he realized both his gloves were gone, as was the logo on his chest, and the white belt around his waist. A black shirt and black pants. His boots looked like his normal shoes, just moon-lit white. Actually, minus the claws and some color changes, he looked… like he had yesterday. “Uh… What is going on with me?” 

He could feel the pull of the stars overhead. He knew he could just lean back, put his arms behind his head, and float there, watching the sky forever. Just revel in space for all time. Instead, he kept his gaze down towards the tops of the clouds. 

At least the first step of what he should do now was clear. Whenever he was dealing with anything out of the ordinary, Sam and Tucker knew what to say. They’d help. He’d go home, grab his phone, and call them. 

Danny flew towards Amity Park-

-and suddenly drew to a stop. He twisted around, eyes wide, realizing that he’d somehow overshot his home by a dozen miles or more. “What the fuck?” he said. He’d only been flying for a moment - how was he all the way over here? “I…”

He licked his lips and tried again. He set his gaze on Amity Park and flew-

-right past Amity Park again. It was an eyeblink of time between one side of the city and the other. Danny hung in the air, confused and slightly annoyed. “What is going on?” he said. A new power, obviously - but one that had unfortunate timing. His fingers curled, the claws digging uncomfortably into his palms. “This is what I get for leaving my phone behind,” he groused. The phone wouldn’t have done well in the thin, cold atmosphere. Even if he’d have brought it with, there was no guarantee it would have still been working. 

“Are all my powers wonky?” Danny asked, raising his hand and pushing energy into his hand. Instead of a steady, gas-like glow, the energy sparkled and hissed, like he was holding onto an exploding firework. “Odd.”

His powers were working differently, so it was time to try using them differently. Time to change tactics. Instead of focusing on a direction, Danny focused his mind on a destination. He closed his eyes, picturing where exactly he wanted to end up. Opening his eyes and taking a deep breath, he tried to fly as slowly as possible.

The world seemed to blur and twist, glowing uncomfortably bright for the fraction of a second Danny allowed himself to be in motion. When the world settled back into place, Danny found himself hovering about ten feet off the ground, within the city of Amiry Park, only about a half-mile from his house. “That worked a lot better,” he said, rather pleased with himself.

Instead of chancing another attempt at flying, Danny figured he’d turn himself human. A ten foot drop wouldn’t be too bad, and he could walk home. It would be the least-tricky way to get home. He took a moment to worry that this new power would prevent him from turning human as easily as normal, but then slammed that idea shut and closed his eyes. 

Danny pushed his ghost form away, pulling at that warm and heavy feeling in his mind. There was a sparkling sensation in his mind, then the sharp pain that came with turning himself human again. He dropped, landing lightly on his toes, breathing a heavy sigh of relief that at least this was still normal. He bounced a few times, testing out a few basic powers - invisibility seemed to work like normal, as did phasing through things. He didn’t try floating, for fear of accidentally ending up two towns over and two hundred feet above the ground in human form.

He walked home, rubbing his chest at that strange, too-full sensation, and snuck in the back door. Despite the fact that all the lights were out, he kept himself invisible to avoid his parents. It was so far past curfew that Danny didn’t even want to think about the trouble he’d be in if they realized he was still out. 

His bedroom door was still locked. Danny phased through it, flipped on the lights, and dumped himself into his bed. “Ugh,” he groaned, feeling the drain of the last two days on his body. He glanced over at the clock. Just before two in the morning. Part of him wanted to just curl up in his bed and fall asleep, try to get a few hours of sleep before tackling school tomorrow. But too much of him had a tight ball of anxious curiosity.

He groaned as he rolled out of bed and stepped in front of his mirror. He looked awful. Dark rings under his eyes and a horrible, pale tone to his skin. He looked half dead. “On the positive side, nobody will question it if I want to stay home sick tomorrow,” he muttered. He shuddered and shifted his weight, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then triggered the transformation.

His ghost form spread like lightning across his skin, slammed through his head, and settled into his chest like a cold ball of fire. He squeaked one eye open just a touch, not sure of what he was going to see. 

Phantom was peering back at him. Danny relaxed, letting his eyes open, and studied himself. From more than a few feet away, he looked absolutely normal. But up close, there were minor changes from the last few days. Teeth that were too pointy. Fingers that were a little more claw-like than normal. Hair that was more… smokey. Just a little. His mouth twisted, unsure of how he felt about the changes. “At least there’s no cape,” he murmured. “I’d look too much like Vlad with a cape.”

He squared his shoulders, set his teeth, and tried flying. He floated up and moved around his bedroom like normal. “So normal.” He caught sight of his claws and shivered. “Mostly.”

“Now…” He took a deep breath and jabbed hard at the over-full feeling in his chest. He was half-hoping nothing would happen. But light sparkled along his body, that tingling almost-painful sensation changing him in very subtle ways. His clothes changed from a jumpsuit to shirt and pants, his shoes looked like they would squeak on the floor as he walked. He was still glowing and transparent. “I’m… a different ghost?” He spread out his arms, feet firmly on the floor afraid to hover. “And I have like… superspeed.”

He took a very careful step forwards, peering closely at himself in the mirror. His eyes looked the same, with the normal green glow. His teeth were sharper, canines almost like little fangs. And… he leaned in, studying his freckles. They glowed, star-like, forming constellations across his skin. 

His mind veered off tangent, remembering the stars overhead, the glittering facts that swirled through his mind, the odd bubbling joy that came with even thinking about space. The freckles on his cheeks rearranged themselves into the constellation Draco, and sparks and speckles swirled into life across his clothes. A supernova that resolved itself into the stars overhead. Danny could trace the stars in his clothes, knew everything about each star. He was caught by the strongest urge to fly there. To zip through space to Alrakis, a binary star system eighty-eight light years away. It would only take him 221 years, 5 months, and 3 days…

Danny jerked himself out of his thoughts. He couldn’t fly for over two hundred years. He shuddered and blinked, settling back on his heels. The glowing freckles on his face settled down, his clothes faded back to black. The familiar sort of pitch-black of space. The sort of black Danny imagined the universe looked like before stars existed. “I have space powers now,” Danny realized, his voice slow and excited. “I have space powers! I’m a space ghost!”

Curious, Danny poked at that over-full feeling in his chest again. The world tingled and flashed, and he was back to his old self. Phantom, with the logo and the better posture and the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. “I’m two ghosts, somehow? Two ghosts… and a human...” Danny stared at himself in the mirror. “Or...” he rested his hand on his chest, feeling that strange overly-full feeling. “Or something…?”

Danny shook his head, not sure where to even begin processing that one. Then he turned himself human again, watching the world get dark as the ghost energy faded away. He scratched at his scalp, trundled over to his bed, and dropped into its softness. 

There wasn’t much he knew right then. The first was that space powers were the coolest power he could have gotten. And the second was that all this would be easier to process after a few hours of sleep and a large cup of caffeine. 

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 51

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,279

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

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Author’s Note: Holy crap, can y’all believe I dove back into writing this fic after almost two years with no updates?! I’m still shook over it haha. I will say that this fic has gone way off canon at this point (I haven’t watched the last few seasons of the show and also didn’t finish the last few issues of the comics). However, I’ve had a vision for certain characters and events for the last how many years, so I don’t plan to change them just to try and fit canon. I also now realize that while I tried to make “you” as nondescript as possible, there are physical traits and actions of her character that haven’t been as inclusive of all potential readers as I had thought when first starting the fic 5 years ago. I apologize for that, and plan to be more aware of those things with any reader characters I write in future fics. My plan is to post a chapter update every Friday from here on out, until it’s over, so fingers crossed I can accomplish that. Enjoy! :D

Cloud Nine

You surfaced from the depths of sleep slowly, rather than the more abrupt jolt to consciousness that usually started off your days. Feeling cozy and relaxed, a slight smile tipped your lips in contentment. It didn’t take long to realize that the reason for your positive mood was the large, warm body with which you were currently sharing the tiny, twin-sized bed.

Eyes blinking open, you took in the delightful sight of masculine bare skin. You were curled up against Negan’s side, cheek cushioned on his chest and both legs were wrapped around his nearest thigh. The bedsheet was pulled up over your back and ended teasingly right above his hips. One of your hands lay palm-down on his stomach, fingers twitching slightly in delight at the feel of the hard muscles beneath the soft skin. You could tell from the curve of his body that he was sitting with his back reclined against the rickety headboard. You might’ve found his positioning odd, but you were still a little hazy from sleep and so could only feel happiness at not waking up to an empty bed, like last time. 

You were on cloud nine after talking things out with him last night. Being able to work through a conflict together had been major progress, and you had been proud of yourself for laying down your boundaries regarding your here-to-stay friendship with Ben, as well as standing your ground regarding the situation with Trixie and the pregnancy test. It was important that Negan learn to trust you when it came to situations such as those, and it seemed as though that message had finally gotten through to him last night. 

The fact that he had even come to your room and taken the huge step of apologizing for his hasty reaction still had you a bit in shock. The evening had panned out much differently than your original plan of going to bed angry. Instead, you had gone to bed very satisfied, and then woken up next to the man who was very quickly becoming essential to your daily happiness.

He must’ve felt you shift against him, one hand coming down to rub your bare shoulder as he gave a soft, “Mornin’, doll.” 

His raspy morning voice sent tingles down your spine, even as your brain fought to stay awake. It still felt way too early to be sitting up and conversing, so instead of returning the greeting, you buried closer into his side and grumbled, “What time is it?” The words were muffled against his skin, nose pressed into his chest hair as you inhaled the glorious male scent of him. 

You felt him lean over towards the side table. He must’ve been checking your watch, because he replied, “‘Bout 6:50.”

“Jesus Christ.” 

“Language.” 

“Hmph. Do you always get up so early?”

“It’s more productive than sleeping half the day away and being late to everything.” 

That got more of a response, as you finally lifted your head to glare up at him for the jab. However, he didn’t notice, as he was too focused on the book held in front of him. It was then that you realized why he was sitting up in bed, a smirk crossing your face at the novel he had open and was intensely reading. You felt a spark of desire low in your belly, the sight of a sleep-tousled and naked Negan lounging in your bed while reading Harry Potter an unexpected, but welcomed, aphrodisiac.

“Thought you didn’t read ‘fucking kid books’?” you sarcastically asked, quoting back his initial description of the series. 

You received only a low grunt in response, his eyes not leaving the page. You weren’t offended, since you’d probably react the same way to someone trying to interrupt a reading of Harry Potter. In fact, you were a bit jealous that he got to experience the magical world for the first time. His curiosity must’ve gotten the better of him when he saw it lying on your bedside table, and it appeared as if he had already read a small chunk of it. 

He didn’t seem to notice you staring, his attention still focused on the book. In fact, he held the page a scant few inches from his face, eyes squinted into slits. The sight was a tad humorous, though you wondered how long he had been struggling to see the words. 

“I thought you needed glasses to read?” you asked. 

“Fuck, you always so full of questions this early in the morning, doll?”

You pinched his side hard enough to make him jump and growl out another expletive, before giving him a saccharine smile and lifting a brow expectantly when he glared down at you.

Attention finally taken off the book, he reached over and plopped it down on the side table before rubbing his eyes with both palms. “I do. Felt like it took me a fucking hour to get through that last page.”

The fact that he had continued trying to read and hadn’t easily given up, despite his struggle to see the words, told you more than anything how much he must’ve been enjoying the novel. A warm thrill settled in your chest at the thought of him taking an interest in something he usually wouldn't bother with simply because you enjoyed it. 

The warm thrill morphed into more of a low heat and traveled down your body as your gaze refocused on his bare skin. Moving the hand on his stomach upward over his chest, your fingertips traced the outline of the tattoo on his left pec.

“What prompted you to get this?” you asked, curious if there was a meaning behind the skull and criss-crossed rifles.

Giving a low chuckle, he replied, “Youth and stupidity.” 

Giving a huffed laugh in return, you trailed curious fingers over to the other tattoos on his arms, inquiring about each one as you went. Some had a story behind them, others not so much (you had tried not to roll your eyes when he explained that the revolver on his right forearm was the same one he had handled once and thought was ‘fucking cool as shit’). He also had a few scars on his upper body, some from before the apocalypse but most from after. You listened intently as he opened up about each one, drinking in as much personal information about the man beside you as possible.

Not wanting to stop the exploration just yet, you pushed up on your other elbow and journeyed over his throat, tracing his Adam’s apple before running your fingers delicately through the surprisingly soft beard framing his gorgeous mouth. 

Capturing the questing hand in his own, he brought your fingers to his lips. The breath caught in your chest when he kissed the mostly-healed scar from the knife injury you had acquired a few weeks prior. Heart beating frantically at the gentle gesture, you smiled up at him when he released your hand and allowed it to resume exploring.

“So,” you tried for calm and casual, fingers moving up to lightly trace his ear before diving into his thick hair and mapping the streaks of salt within the pepper. “What are your plans for today?”

It took him a few seconds to answer, his eyes having fluttered closed as your nails gently massaged his scalp. You smiled at his obvious enjoyment of your touch, at how he had lowered his walls in this moment and was allowing himself to be both physically and emotionally vulnerable. 

“I wish they were to stay here and enjoy this fucking delightful body of yours all day, but I have a meeting with my Saviors at eight.” 

The thought of spending an entire day frolicking in bed with Negan caused a dreamy sigh to leave your lips. His eyes opened and zeroed in on your mouth at the sound, that magical tongue of his coming out to lick his bottom lip as he added, “Though, that’s still about an hour away…”

At that, he quickly rolled over so his lean body was pinning you into the mattress, his lips cutting off your squeal of surprise before it even left your throat. The hand still in his hair tightened, causing him to give a low groan and grind his hips down into yours. You tried to make a mental note of his reaction to the touch, but seeing as how there were no barriers keeping his quickly-hardening erection from pressing into your thigh, all higher levels of brain function quickly flew out of the room. 

Bracing above you, he leaned down and started kissing your neck, a move guaranteed to make you melt. When his mouth descended over the curve of your breasts, you tried to lift your head to watch his downward progress but a sharp pang of discomfort at your scalp made you wince and try to jerk away, which only succeeded in making the pain even worse. 

“Ow, wait!” you blurted, causing Negan to instantly freeze and look up at you in alarm. 

“Doll, what-”

“You’re on my hair! Move your hand!”

Quickly realizing his mistake, Negan moved the hand that had accidentally been pinning a large chunk of your hair, and by proxy your head, to the mattress. 

“Fucking hell, I’m sorry, doll,” he cursed, making as if to lift his body off you entirely. 

Now wanting his faux pas to ruin the moment, you pushed his shoulders sideways and hooked a leg up over his hip before commanding, “Roll over.”

He hesitated for a moment before relenting, the two of you somehow able to switch places on the narrow, twin-sized bed without falling off. Once the semi-awkward resituating was done, he was on his back and you were straddling his hips. The move caused the sheet to fall off, exposing your entire body to his gaze. Based on the way his eyes grew hazy with lust as they took in your bared curves, not to mention his obvious erection, it was safe to say that he didn’t mind this change in position one bit. 

Warm, calloused palms drifted up over your thighs, hips, and the sides of your waist, before cupping breasts that were begging for his touch. Leaning down, your already-hardened nipples pressed into his palms as you kissed him hungrily. Shifting your hips, you started rubbing forwards and backwards over the erection pressed between both your lower stomachs. You moaned into each other’s mouths at the sensation, pussy lips parting around his girth so that your wetness coated his cock, the fat head bumping against your clit with each slide. 

“I think I like being in charge,” you purred. 

Giving a dark chuckle that sent shivers down your spine, he replied, “Enjoy it while it fucking lasts.”

Planning to do just that, you reached over to pluck a condom off the side table, incredibly grateful to whatever deity helped you successfully open the foil packet and smoothly roll the latex down over him on the first try. Tossing the empty packet over the side of the bed, you wrapped slightly trembling fingers around his swollen cock and lifted your hips, lining him up with your entrance. Maintaining eye contact, you slowly slid down his length, mouth falling open on a whimper at the feel of him parting overly-sensitive flesh that was still a bit sore from the activities of the previous night. Despite Negan’s initial threat over you stealing both coconut oil from the kitchen and condoms from his room, his only “punishment” last night had been fucking you relentlessly into the mattress until you had multiple orgasms and could barely even remember your own name.

In spite of the slight burn as sore muscles again stretched around his thickness, you didn’t stop until he was fully seated inside. His cock felt so big in this position that it was almost overwhelming, but you sat up so that your hands were braced on his chest and used your thigh muscles to start a slow up and down rhythm. 

His fingers reached up and pinched your nipples, causing you to clench around him. He groaned at the sensation, gaze becoming more intense when you slightly picked up the pace. It felt magnificent, but at the same time you craved more of the hard, rough friction that he had given you the night before. Body trying to find that friction on its own, your hips swiveled in a circle as you sank back down, which must’ve felt just as amazing for him as it did you, since he gave a strangled moan at the same moment his hands immobilized your hips in a bruising grip. 

“Alright, doll. My turn.”

That was the only warning you got before he braced his feet against the mattress and moved up in you, hard. Falling forward onto your palms with a gasp, fingers curled into the bedsheet and hips writhed in pleasure when he repeated the move. He continued the sharp, deep thrusts, watching your face closely before wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and pulling your mouth down to his own. His tongue thrust into your mouth possessively, as if trying to claim as much of you at once as he could. The pace was brutal yet unhurried, each thrust feeling like a deliberate attack on your sanity as his movements drew fire over your skin and consumed you, body and soul. 

Pressing down into him while leaning forward caused your clit to grind against his lower abdomen in the perfect way with each thrust, building up the orgasm that had previously hovered just out of reach. Breaking the kiss with a cry, you saw the expression of intense concentration on his face as he continued to move your bodies together in perfect rhythm. Breasts pressed into his chest and mouth panting at his ear, your body gave into his, letting him drive you up and over the edge, into the abyss of pleasure. 

“Negan,” you moaned, muscles tightening then releasing as the orgasm washed through you. His answering grunt and curse signaled his own release, though he continued his driving rhythm through it all, wringing each drop of pleasure from your body until it collapsed limply on top of his.

Resting your head on his shoulder, you again traced over the tattoo on his chest, waiting for your heartbeat and breathing to slow back down to normal. Glancing up his body, you found him already looking back down at you, a relaxed and satisfied grin on his lips that was only witnessed behind closed doors, when the two of you were alone. His hand idly stroked over a piece of hair laying on your shoulder, the gesture making you think back to earlier when he had accidentally pinned you to the mattress, and the resulting ungraceful maneuvering to switch positions in a bed that was entirely too small for two adult bodies. A light laugh escaped you that caused Negan to raise an eyebrow in question. 

“Just remembering your super smooth move from earlier,” you teased. You wouldn’t admit this out loud, but it was actually a bit of a relief to know that even Mr. Harem-of-Wives, Sex-God Negan wasn’t always flawless in the sack. 

“Making fun of me, doll?” he growled. 

“Maybe.”

Whack. The loud crack, accompanied by the slight sting of sensation against your left asscheek, caused you to jump and look at him in wide-eyed shock. 

“Did you just spank me?!” you exclaimed.

“Maybe.”

Before you could form an appropriate reply, he silenced any retort with his lips. Shallow creature that you apparently were, the move worked, and when he pulled away a long minute later, your brain conveniently forgot why you were supposed to be coming up with a retort in the first place. 

Negan glanced over at the side table, where your watch sat. Also looking over, you saw that it was now almost 7:30am, which meant he had half an hour to go back to his room and become presentable for his 8am Savior meeting. You were curious what the meeting was about, but didn’t want to ruin the perfection of the morning by bringing up a potentially serious topic. 

“Much as I hate to say it, doll, duty fucking calls.”

Your expression must’ve showcased more than you thought, since he gave a chuckle and said, “How about I make it up to you by finishing our fucking chess bet?”

Interest instantly piqued, you sat up on his chest and replied, “The third outing?! Can we go today?”

He looked at you consideringly, before giving a slight nod and agreeing. “We fucking could, but I won’t be free until the dinner hour.” 

Much as you didn’t want to skip out on your duties, even if it was with the leader of the establishment, you also weren’t about to turn down more alone time with Negan, especially outside of the Sanctuary. 

“I could meet you at the front gate at 5?” you suggested. That would give you just enough time to make sure dinner was fully prepped and almost ready to serve, since the community ate their meal from 5 to 7pm. It lessened the guilt, since you wouldn’t be completely leaving Ben and the staff short-handed. 

“Works for me, doll,” he said, gently rolling you off his body and to the narrow strip of mattress free beside him.

Biting your lower lip to keep from gasping at the empty sensation when he pulled out his now-flaccid dick, you watched him rise slowly from the bed. You took possessive pleasure in viewing his naked body, thighs clenching at the sight of him stretching muscular arms up towards the ceiling with his head tipped back. The pop of his back and resulting grunt made you comment, “I think from now on we might be better off in your bed. I have no clue how we even managed to fit in mine all night.” 

“Thank fucking god. If I have to spend any more nights in that fucking thing, I’ll be stiffer than a cock in a brothel.” 

Rolling your eyes at his that’s-so-Negan one-liner, you pulled the sheet up over your chest and settled in to watch him get dressed. You felt a bit like a voyeur when he removed the condom, tied off the end, and tossed it into the little garbage can. You felt a lot like a voyeur when he leaned down to pick up his boxer briefs and the sight of his bent-over ass almost made you whimper out loud. 

“You sure you can’t skip the meeting and stay here?” The words left your lips before your brain could even stop them. 

Turning to look at you, the desire must have been written all over your face because that muscle in his jaw ticked and he ran a hand down over his beard in obvious frustration. You swore he started to take a step back towards the bed, but he caught himself and instead returned to the task of getting dressed. 

When he was done putting on the navy tee and dark grey pants, complete with his signature black boots, he did finally come back over to the bed. Leaning down, he cupped a warm hand possessively around the side of your neck and placed a heated kiss on your lips before slightly pulling back and saying in that sinful, husky voice, “5 o’clock, doll. You better be ready for me.” 

With that, he straightened, crossed the room, and let himself out. As the door clicked softly shut behind him, you replied with a dazed, “Yes, sir.”

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

[yayteaberry]

*SFW* Babysitting (Bakugou)

Rarely did he ever take a Saturday off from either training or studying, he was determined to stay better than everyone else. But, it had been raining since yesterday and he felt like he deserved a break anyways. From morning to afternoon, he enjoyed doing absolutely nothing, scrolling his social media and avoiding liking any of his friends posts on principle.

Shitty hair still won’t shut up about the selfie he liked so now nobody gets any.

His planned day of nothing is interrupted by a knock at his door, and he’s been pacified by memes to a degree where he doesn’t react violently to the intrusion.

Instead he shoves his phone into his pocket as gets up and opens the door, plain faced until he sees it’s you and that you’re holding something. Well, someone.

“Hey!”, you greet with an unusual level of enthusiasm, “I need you to do a favor for me.”

“A favor?”, he asks while he takes in the fact that you’re holding a baby, dressed in a striped onesie.

“Yeah, I’m kinda busy with stuff and I need someone to keep an eye on this little cutie for a bit!” To emphasize the importance or maybe sway him, you turn the baby around so he can see the chubby face.

“... If you’re asking me to babysit it, then no.”

You click your tongue against your teeth, rolling your eyes. “Well don’t call her by ‘it’, and I really need you to do this for me!”

He puts a hand on the door to signal that he’s about to close it, “Nah. Ask shitty hair or Deku, I think they’d love to drool over your kid.” “It’s my aunts baby!”, you say as you put your foot over the threshold, jostling the baby somewhat, which excitedly babbles as it meets his eyes, “They’re busy too, I tried asking! Believe me, you weren’t my first choice.”

“What do you mean by that?” He speaks with annoyance, opening the door fully as his competitive nature rises.

Internally you give a sigh of relief, externally you place the baby on your hip. “Bakugou, I think we both know that you’re awful with children. But you’re my last option and I have nowhere else to turn.”

“I should’ve been your first choice! I’m a fuckin’ wiz at keeping brats well behaved! Gimme!”

“Ah!”, you step out of range of his attempted grab and put out your pointer finger, “Don’t yell at the baby, don’t be aggressive with the baby, and most of all, don’t yell at the baby.”

In spite of your words you know full well he’ll do nothing of the sort, just wanting to give the appearance so he’ll be on his best behavior. He doesn’t have to know he was actually the only one you wanted to watch her.

After all his surface level bullying you can tell he’s soft on the inside, knowing he’s the least likely to give into a baby's whims while also being gentle enough to avoid making her cry.

“Yeah yeah.”, he grumbles, taking her from you when you extend her towards him, “When are you gonna collect the brat?”

You give a 50/50 gesture, shrugging, “Ah an half hour to two hours, but I’ll be back before three hours for sure! She’s been fed and changed recently but just in case,” A bag is revealed when you pull it from behind your back, taking it off by the strap and setting it inside.

“Diapers and toys, if she’s hungry there’s something for her in there too. Just, be careful about that, she’s sorta young for it.”

He nods at your words, watching her grapple at his shirt, having not once taken his eyes off her.

“Thank you!”, you chirp and give him a kiss on the cheek, knowing that he can’t do anything about it while holding her. That makes him glance up at you with some minor malice, which is reduced severely by the dusting of pink across his nose.

With that you take your leave, confident he’ll do fine.

He shuts the door and sits at the edge of his bed, cradling her in his arms. After a moment he takes a look over to the bag you left, thinking it’d probably be best to fish something out of there for her to do.

While he wasn’t experienced in caring for a baby in any capacity that felt like common sense. Plus, it’d allow him to continue wasting time on his phone.

“You,” he gently places her on the middle of the bed as he stands, “are not taking my Saturday from me with your tiny incapable hands.”

With one hand he grabs the bag off the floor and sets it on the bed beside her, opening it and digging through its contents. You were right, the thing is loaded with diapers and many different plastic objects.

Keys, babies love keys.

That toy seems the best choice, taking that and a blanket out before putting the bag on the floor nearby, holding the baby like a barrel under his arm while he flattens the blanket, then placing her on her belly.

He dangles the keys in front of her, watching as her eyes widen as she takes a horribly aimed swipe towards them. With a laugh tinged snort he lets her have them, sitting with his back against the bed and taking his phone out, resuming his leisure hobby.

A minute passes before he peeks over at her to make sure she’s still there, idly chewing on an orange key. It reminds him of something a puppy would do, up until she shoves it in way too far.

He drops his phone and yanks the keys away with concern she’ll vomit, not expecting her to look so upset over it. Briefly she contentedly waits for them to be returned, but when it becomes apparent they aren’t, she scowls.

“No,” he preemptively says, putting the keys down at his other side to keep them away, “you did something fucking stupid, so now they’re off limits. Don’t get all upset over it.”

She huffs and slams a hand down a few times, making a ‘gah’ with very demanding intent.

“I said no. Let me find something else then, calm down.”, he says as he reaches over to grab something random out of the bag, finding a plush red dinosaur. “See? Fun. Chew on this.”

He sets it down in front of her, and she immediately pushes it over, repeating herself. If nothing he gives her credit for having a strange amount of object permanence.

“I. Said. No. The fuck do you want me to do? You’re the one who can’t handle having the damn thing!” With a curt ‘no’ as a final statement, he leans over her to shove the keys back into the bag.

This turns out to be a huge mistake.

In a universally understood way, her face screws up as she starts taking in heavy breaths, which makes his eyebrows raise.

“Don’t. No crying.” his tone is as assertive as he can get it, shaking his head as if to cement it. Her tiny face turns red, sniffling once before fat tears begin to roll down her cheeks.

With no idea what to do in this situation, he starts rummaging through the bag for a solution, diapers spilling out as he digs for a similar toy if there even is one. He cringes as she really starts crying, caving and getting the keys back out, giving them to her. “See? See??”

She either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, bawling in the way only babies do, arms giving out as she lays down.

His instincts on consoling anyone are terrible and usually not to be followed but he acts without thinking, picking her up and setting her in his lap, bouncing his leg as he pets her back, softly shushing her, ignoring the part of him that does in fact wish to yell at the baby.

Her tiny body trembles, pawing at his shirt as she rubs her tear stained face into it. Continuing to follow his instincts he lifts her up, both arms cradling her as her head rests against his shoulder. She does eventually calm, relaxing as quiet hiccuping replaces her sobs, breathing regulating.

She's effectively soothed, he on the other hand is completely shaken up.

Jesus, why did that scare him so much? He’d heard babies cry before and always was irritated by it, but this time there was something so different about it. Even now his heart is still racing, mouth dry as he stares forward into the wall with a mixture of worry and gratefulness.

Once she’s relaxed, he picks up the previously discarded dinosaur, placing it in his lap next to her. Thankfully, she seems to have forgotten about the keys, happy to latch onto the plushy.

He takes his phone back out with the intent to resume his earlier scrolling, but he can’t entirely take his eyes off her.  He’s more interested in watching her reactions than he’d ever admit.

In some ways she reminds him of you, mainly the eye color and the way her cheeks pinch up when she smiles.

You seem the motherly type to him so he assumes you’re leagues better at this than he is, but you’ve never mentioned having to babysit her before.

In fact you’ve never mentioned her before at all.

Maybe you enjoyed doing it but kept quiet so you didn’t have anyone intruding or asking to see her, babies can feel stranger danger so that made sense, it’d probably be overwhelming. She doesn’t hate him though, maybe you knew that she wouldn’t? 

Despite the panic she’s sent him through he really wouldn’t mind watching after her again. It'll probably be easier with you here, though he isn’t sure what he’d do if you were, he’d just be sitting around while you did everything.

God, she is really goddamned adorable. He smirks as he takes a second to allow himself to outwardly express something positive, watching her slap her tiny hand against the toy.

Usually the idea of having a baby is the worst one anyone can have, but right now he isn’t all that opposed to it. Not that it looks simple, more that it looks to be worth it.

He knows he’d make super cute babies, based on what he looks like and has always looked like the kid would outshine any other snot maker.

While he didn’t know what you looked like as a baby he just assumed you did too, briefly considering what a baby would look like if it came from you and him.

He’s got his mother's blonde hair despite his father's brunette coloring so that’s a dominant trait, possibly overriding your own but who can know, it’d more likely have more of your features.

Out of anything he’d want a little girl just like this one, though he’d be happy with anything as long as it's yours. Your features have always been something he likes, face as well as body, you’re built well in every aspect he tends to care about.

That, and your winning personality, even he can see that it’s a very pleasant contrast to his own. A kid with a mixture of both would be undoubtedly unstoppable, making him proud left and right.

Suddenly the thought bubble pops as reality rises to the surface.

You’re not his and he doesn’t like you anyways, this doesn’t bear so much thinking since it’ll never happen.

A heat takes to his cheeks as he tries to move on and pretend he wasn’t having a domestic fantasy involving you, mostly pretending he hadn’t had any fantasies about you.

It was something that’d creep into his mind sometimes.

Kirishima and Deku tended to have some softer traits alongside their bolder ones but it just wasn’t the same coming from either of them.

You had a certain tenacity to you, it was totally within your options to let some rich older man take care of you but you wanted more for yourself, you wanted to be a hero.

It made you strong, and you were strong because you worked for it constantly. As thick as your innocence tended to be, he was fairly confident you could knock him unconscious if it strikes you as the right choice.

He shook his head and made an effort to clear out all his emotions, directing his attention back towards the baby to ground himself. 

At some point during his daydreaming she’d knocked out cold, the dinosaur laying on the floor beside him, propped up against his chest, quietly snoozing while drooling a slight amount. Even if he wanted too he couldn’t be grossed out, it was way too cute of a sight for him to get mad.

Looking at her makes him feel tired, so he decides that taking a nap wouldn’t be a terrible idea. Careful to avoid waking her, he shifts around to get comfortable, hooking an arm around her so she doesn’t teeter backwards while he’s moving.

He thinks about whether he should turn her over and lay her on the blanket, unsure of what the proper protocol is.

His neck is gonna get super fucked up if he stays sat like this, so he very slowly gets up and lays on his bed, keeping her held to his chest until he’s flat enough to let gravity do the work. For a moment he returns to thinking about laying her on a flat surface but he lets her stay as she is, being a light sleeper means he’ll be able to deal with any problems if there are any.

-

After thanking Aizawa for the extra sparring lesson, you quickly get yourself showered and changed.

It’s been about two hours since you left her with Bakugou and you were getting increasingly worried he was reaching his limit.

Honestly you didn’t expect to be gone this long, but you were glad you gave him the estimate because it meant he’d have less reasons to be upset with you.

You prepare yourself for him to yell at you for leaving him alone with a demon for so long, even if she’s rarely a problem you do suspect he’ll be dramatic.

Still, it was a godsend that he said yes to begin with, you were going to make sure to tell him that.

When you get to his room you don’t bother with knocking, opening it to let yourself in without hesitation.

You were going to say something, but you forget the instant you lay eyes on the scene in front of you.

Practically swooning, you place a hand over your mouth to prevent making any noise, getting your phone out to document perhaps the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

He’s laying on his bed, one arm over her and one over his eyes to block out the light, her tiny hands secured around the collar of his shirt, both of them peacefully asleep.

Not intending it to be blackmail but being aware it would probably become that, you take pictures from several different angles, wanting nothing more than to show everyone.

Though, for his own sake, you don’t actually send them anywhere near the class.

This doesn’t mean you don’t send them all to his mother, you do.

It does pain you to know you’ll have to hold off on showing people lest the information come back to him, but you do make it your phones home screen anyways. 

[youngbloodlisk]

Two Dresses // Ten

- Ten in a maid outfit

- female reader, also in a dress (hence the name)

- dom/sub themes

- a bit of sub ten but more dom ten

- oral, male rec

- mirror sex

- some hair pulling

- pull-out method (be smarter than a fanfiction and practice safe sex plz)

- some aftercare

@kxnkxmoon 😚

"Hey... is it too late to maybe... change our group costume plan?"

"Nooooo..." Sarcasm laces my roommate's voice "No, Halloween is just two days away and all of us have our costumes already except who? You."

"I'm sorry! It's surprisingly hard to find a maid costume. With maid costumes being trendy all of a sudden, they're sold out everywhere."

"Check a resale sight. Surely someone is trying to get rid of one... Oh, and filter by local pickup! You don't have time for shipping anymore."

"Fine..."

After a few hours of on-and-off searching through different sites, it's a page reload around 5pm that I finally find a listing.

Posted one hour ago, cheap, pickup in my area... but horrible photos. Bad angles, bad lighting, you can barely tell what the damn thing is. No description either. If the title didn't say "Maid Costume with Garters and Collar (Good Condition)", I wouldn't know that it was exactly what I was looking for.

But, that being said... it is exactly what I'm looking for... and it's here and available.

I message the seller to ease my nerves about the product before buying it.

"hey, do you have any other photos of the maid outfit?"

It's around thirty minutes later before I get a response from Mr. 1_0LeeCha.

"i can take some but i won't be home until tomorrow. work until late and im staying at a friend's house tonight to help him with something. i have a few from when i wore it at a work Halloween party last year that i can send in the meantime?"

"that would be awesome, thanks"

"sure one sec"

I wait a few minutes as the three typing dots remain on the screen, telling me that he's scrolling through his photos to send one.

My phone vibrates and I look back at my screen to see... something I did not expect to see.

A slender, fit body in a loose maid dress. The boy is on his knees in front of a mirror with his legs spread apart. The dress is pulled up to fully reveal the black lace garters on his thighs. The hand that isn't holding a phone is holding his dick through the fabric of the dress skirt. His face isn't visible in the photo, but his neck is stretched to the left to show off the black choker.

"OH NO no no no no no i'm so sorry i did not mean to send that one"

"lol it's okay, mistakes happen. to be fair it's still a pretty good photo of the dress. btw is that a wayv album behind you?? signed?? my roommate is a fan lol how did you get that?"

"it's a long story. im kinda close with Ten."

"my roommate says that's cool lol"

"haha yeah i guess. do you want the costume or do you still need more pics of it?"

"are the other pics gonna look like that one?"

"no!! fuck no i swear i wouldn't do that to you on purpose lol. btw i deep cleaned it after i took those photos dw"

"lol no worries i was just playing. i'll take it. pickup and pay in cash tomorrow?"

He agrees and sends me the address, telling me that any time works for him as it's his day off.

I get off work around 5pm the next day and set off straight from the diner towards his address, having no need to go home first.

It's a chilly, but thankfully short, walk in my classic blue waitress uniform.

I check the address about five times before I knock on the door, to make sure I don't show up at the wrong person's door asking for a maid costume...

That would be less than ideal.

I hear someone say, "No, no! I've got it! It's for me!" behind the door before it swings open.

"Hi! Maid costume?" The slender boy, with a body I recognize a bit too well now, cocks an eyebrow.

"That's me."

"You must be freezing out here. Come on in, it's up in my room. You can just follow me."

I nod and comply, following him inside. He closes the door and leads me down the hall to the correct room.

I recognize the dresser and window from the photo, as well as the angle of the mirror leaning against the wall by his door.

He notices the way I lightly chuckle upon recognizing the scene.

"Uh- yeah..." He laughs nervously, picking up the bag with the costume in it. "That's... embarrassing..."

"Why were you taking them anyway? Personal enjoyment?"

"Uh... long story... Listen, I'm really sorry about that-"

"I'm not."

His breath hitches and he hesitates to respond, seemingly wondering if I really just said what he thinks he heard.

"H-Huh?"

"I'm not sorry you sent it. It was pretty... and pretty hot." I take the bag out of his hand.

"Oh, really?" His head cocks to the side, his confidence returning.

Suddenly, it feels as if you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

"Really. I wouldn't have minded if you HAD sent more, in fact."

"Oh? You liked it? You liked seeing me in that costume?" He boldly locks his hands behind my neck.

"I did..." I take the dress out of the bag, dropping the bag to the floor. I straighten the dress and hold it up to his body. "Do you wanna wear it one last time before saying goodbye to it? For me?"

He leans in, only an inch away from my face.

"You're still gonna buy it when we're done with whatever we're about to do, right?"

"Does it really matter?" I meet his lips for a moment.

When I pull away, he takes the dress out of my hands. He reaches down to pick up the bag which still holds the garters and choker, presses a finger to his lips playfully, and disappears into the connected bathroom.

I look around the room while I wait.

This guy has a lot more WayV albums, as well as NCT albums, all of which I recognize from my roommate's shelf.

He has a lot of books that look worn. No telling if he reads a lot or if he just bought them used...

I spot a framed photo on one of the dressers. It looks to be him and his friends (all male) in princess/similar costumes. All of them are smiling or making a funny face.

The guy I recognize looks to be in an Alice in Wonderland costume, which makes me wonder where that costume could be.

The bathroom door opens, calling my attention and making me turn around.

There he is, in that maid dress, leaning against the doorframe. He tosses the clothes he was previously wearing into the corner of the room.

I can't help but notice the orange and gray striped underwear in the pile of clothes.

"You look even prettier in person, especially now that I can see your face. I didn't expect a boy so pretty."

"Well I didn't expect you to be so pretty either... much less wearing a 50's diner waitress outfit. That's for work, right? Or did you get all dressed up to come see me?" He playfully saunters over to me and places his hands behind my neck again, in the same way they were before he changed clothes.

"Cute. And what do you do for a living?"

"Long story." He begins to close the gap between us again.

"You seem to be full of those."

"Maybe I'll explain them all next time."

"Are you implying you already want there to be a next time? We haven't even done anything yet, tiger. Are you really that needy?"

"Are you gonna keep running your mouth or are you gonna kiss me?"

Instead of responding either way, I grab his waist and turn us both around. I push him gently, but hard enough to make him fall back onto his bed.

I quickly crawl on top of him, hungrily attaching my lips to his and straddling him.

His hands run up my thighs and under my dress, resting on my hips.

Things escalate quickly as he presses his hips up, the maid skirt falling to expose his hardening cock, and he grinds against my underwear.

"So desperate, aren't you?" I quickly comment before returning to his lips.

He hums as an agreeing response.

I grind down onto him to create more friction which causes him to moan into my mouth.

I move from his lips to his jaw and slowly down his neck to his collarbone, all while still grinding roughly against his hard dick.

Soft moans leave the boy and his breathing gets progressively faster.

His shaking hand starts tugging my underwear down, and I stop and sit up to take them off for him.

Once the blue underwear are tossed into the corner with his clothes, I resume my previous action of grinding into him. This time, however, his cock is running through my folds, making me moan.

"Oh, it feels so... so good..." He chokes out, breathlessly, grabbing onto the sheets with both hands. "Please..."

He begins to rapidly buck his hips up, matching my grinding perfectly, until his body begins to shudder and his movements become jerky.

"I'm c-cl- I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me, sweetheart." I brush his hair out of his eyes, which gloss over as a sticky substance covers our respective dresses.

He catches his breath for a moment, but his energy returns fairly quickly. Good stamina, I assume.

I slow my movement on him, but continue to seek the friction his shaft was giving me, until he firmly grasps my hips and holds me still.

I can usually keep my cool, but this action definitely shocks me... especially when I look into his dark eyes.

"And w-what do you think you're doing?"

"I sub for my own benefit, not yours."

"That's actually not very subby of you."

"Your voice is shaking. That's actually not very dominant of you... but it makes sense. Did you think telling me to put on a maid costume meant you were gonna take full control?" He scoffs, swiftly flipping us over and pinning me under him. His bare knee slides between my thighs, pushing against my wet pussy, and he holds my wrists against the mattress on either side of my head. He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers... "You're dreaming, honey."

His knee slowly rubs against me and I can feel the garter which is falling down his leg.

The lace brushes my clit as he moves, sending a shiver down my back.

He doesn't let me enjoy it for very long, however.

He gets off of me and stands up, telling me to get up as well.

I stand slightly confused, and extremely sexually frustrated, next to the bed as I watch him pull his white desk into the center of the room.

He pulls off the falling garter, and starts to take off the other one until I quickly tell him to stop.

I bend down on my knees in front of him and carefully take the lace between my teeth.

Looking up at him, he's practically drooling watching me slowly drag the garter down his leg with my teeth.

Once it reaches his ankle, I let go and he kicks it off to the side.

Before he can even speak, I lift up his dress and wrap my lips around his tip. His knees buckle for a moment at the sudden sensation.

He leans back, grabbing onto the edge of the desk behind him for support.

I take as much of him in my mouth as I can, almost on the verge of gagging, and try to handle the last part with my hand.

I can tell he's trying to resist the urge to grab me and fuck my mouth, so I try to make it worth it with the way I suck and lick and stroke him.

When I look up at him with innocent eyes, he shudders and pulls me off of him, also pulling me to my feet in the process.

"If you keep that up, I'll cum again... and I'm not cumming again unless it's because of your wet little pussy. So, bend over the desk."

As I follow his instruction, I realize what he did.

He placed the desk in front of the mirror. The same mirror from the photo which started all of this.

He positions himself behind me, flipping my skirt up and running a slender finger over my pussy.

"So wet..." He sticks that finger in his mouth and licks it clean. "And so delicious too."

He runs his finger through my folds a few more times and sucks them clean as he lines up and pushes into me.

The stretch burns in the best way possible.

I grip the edge of the table as he starts to rock his hips.

My back arches and my eyes shut tightly, but he tells to look in the mirror.

The way the mirror is angled, I'm able to see under the table and watch him fuck me. I watch him disappear inside of me and come back out, which only makes me realize more just how big he is and how deep he's reaching.

He places one hand on my hip and the other on my shoulder before he picks up his pace and starts to fuck me harder and faster.

I can't hold back my moans, feeling him so deep and watching it all happen in that mirror.

I notice his cocky smile.

He removes his hand from my shoulder and reaches down to rub my clit, causing my legs to start shaking. My orgasm starts to approach.

"Look at you..." He smirks at me, locking eyes with me in the mirror. "So pretty and getting ruined by a boy in a maid dress. I'm sure you expected this to go differently, didn't you?"

I let out a loud guttural moan and avert my eyes to the desk right under me, my head facing down.

"Baby, I can feel you clenching. Are you getting close?"

I shakily nod my head and feel his hand leave my clit for a moment as he takes a hold of hair at the root and pulls my head up to look at the mirror again.

"Watch it. Watch yourself cum all over my pretty cock."

He lets go of my hair, clearly expecting me to remain looking in the mirror, and he starts playing with my clit again.

My toes curl and I have a hard time keeping my head up as my orgasm finally rushes through my body. I clench around his dick and he helps me ride out my high before pulling out and jerking himself until he cums on the back of my uniform.

I feel almost limp as I lay across the table. My eyes are heavy, so I simply close them. I can't see anything that happens, but I can hear and feel that he goes to the bathroom and brings back a towel to wipe the cum off my clothes.

"Can you stand?" He asks gently.

I can, and better with someone to lean on, but my legs are a little shaky.

He uses the dampened part of the towel he got to wipe at the cum on the front of my clothes, before carefully having me sit on the edge of the bed.

He helps me pull the dress off of my sweaty body, tossing it to the pile of clothes.

"Wait here." He instructs, going into his closet.

He comes back with some comfortable looking sweats and hands them to me to wear.

I slowly dress myself and watch as he quickly changes his own clothes and then takes all the soiled clothes in his arms and leaves the room.

When he returns, the clothes in his hands have been replaced with a few bottles of water.

"Here, hydrate." He smiles, handing me one of the bottles. "I tossed the clothes in the wash. I hope you can stay for a bit, but if you can't then I can come bring you your clothes once they're dry-"

I don't miss the shining glint in his eye when I cut him off with:

"No, it's okay. I can stay for a while."

We both chug a couple bottles of water each before cuddling up in his bed to talk... which quickly turns into napping.

I wake up to a darker window than when I fell asleep, and I carefully pull myself away from the man to check the clock on the nightstand.

9:00PM.

I've been here for almost four hours, and asleep for almost three of them.

Quickly, a lot of thoughts come to mind.

One of us needs to put our clothes in the dryer.

I need to go home, I can't stay the night here.

Should I wake him?

As I watch his sleeping face, calmly breathing and mouth slightly open, I can't help but smile at how adorable he looks.

Before we cuddled up together, I placed my phone on the nightstand. I slowly and quietly pick it up, opening the camera and snapping a little photo of him.

I'll ask him when he wakes up if it's okay for me to keep it.

I brush a tuft of hair out of his face, which makes me remember when I did that same thing a few hours ago.

I feel my face heat up as I think back to what we did...

Around a half hour later, he's rudely woken up by his phone ringing.

Sleepily, he answers the call from a phone contact named "YangX2".

"What do you want?... Well, now I am... I don't know, uh-" He turns to me. "Are you planning to stay over?"

I shake my head, trying to be as polite as I can.

"She isn't... Yeah, I know... Obviously... Oh, thanks dude... Hey, that's mine!... I don't care that you found it, it was in my pants... Fine, if you've already spent it then-... Whatever... Yeah, thanks... Bye."

He hangs up and looks at me again.

"Good news and bad news. Good news, YangYang put the clothes in the dryer for us when the washing finished, so they're dry now. Bad news, he found money in my pants and bought him and Xiaojun some snacks at the convenience store."

I laugh with him about his stolen cash, which evolves into an awkward silence.

"Well, um... I should get going. My roommate hates being alone in our apartment at night."

"Oh! Yeah, yeah, sure. I'll go get all your clothes for you." He gets up out of the bed and rubs his eyes as he leaves the room.

I make sure I have my phone and my bag, as well as everything that's supposed to be in the bag, while I wait.

Far too soon, he's hugging me goodbye next to the taxi he called for me.

My load is lighter by a couple monetary bills and heavier by a (clean) maid costume.

"Oh! I almost forgot..." I take out my phone and pull up the photo I took of him sleeping. "You just looked so peaceful and cute... is that okay?"

A smile lights up his face, as if somebody taking a photo of him asleep is the cutest thing anyone's ever done in his eyes.

"Yeah, absolutely."

"Good. I'll... I'll see you around..." I trail off, realizing he never even told me his name.

"Yeah, I'll see you around..." He also trails off, probably realizing that I never gave him my name either.

We share a look, however.

A look that says that some things are better left a mystery.

I get in the cab and close the door, giving the driver the address of an apartment building just a couple blocks from where I actually live.

The moment I open the door to my apartment, I'm attacked.

"Where did you go? What happened? Are you okay? I thought you just had work until 5 and then picking up the costume. So, why didn't you get home until 10pm?!"

I explain everything.

Well, not everything of course... but the general things.

"Oh my goodness... was he cute? You said he stans NCT, of course he's cute. Do you have a photo of him?"

"Yeah, actually..." I pull up the adorable sleeping boy on my phone and show her.

Her eyes about pop out.

"TEN?!"

"Huh?"

"That's Ten! That's a member of WayV!"

"Wait- what?"

I suddenly remember what he said when I asked about the signed album in the photo.

"Kinda close with Ten" my ass...

[haworthiaace]

I’ve recently discovered that writing may be a little bit fun so. Here’s something for @shadeswift99 ‘s ghostbusters au (this post right here) :]

Tango didn’t believe in ghosts.

Why would he? There had never been any reputable, scientific evidence, and despite what his friends have told him countless times, ‘feeling a presence’ didn’t count as scientific evidence. However, his conviction didn’t seem to deter Zed and Impulse at all, who regularly barged into Tango’s apartment with their latest ‘discovery’. 

“Tango, guess what?” The sound of his poor, battered door slamming open once again and Zed’s excited voice disrupted the peaceful silence that had dominated the room for the past few hours.

“Hi Zed, Impulse, good to see you guys too.” Tango didn’t have to look up from his laptop to know that Impulse was standing right behind Zed, too polite to barge in without some sort of invitation. Not polite enough to stop Zed, unfortunately.

Zedaph didn’t even acknowledge the greeting, continuing his thought the second he flopped down into a worn armchair. “Impulse and I were talking, and then we got on the topic of those guys who visit haunted places and hunt ghosts, and then I said ‘Well why can’t we do that?’” He sat up, eagerly looking at Tango, who could not for the life of him figure out what the man wanted from him.

Impulse, in his infinite kindness, noticed his friend’s confusion and filled in the gaps Zed had left in his excitement. “Zed and I want to start a ghost hunting business, and we need you to join us because you have a car.” He sat down much more gracefully than his companion, holding a small bowl of chips stolen from Tango’s kitchen.

The room was silent for a moment. “Hold on, what?”

“We-“

“No, I heard you, I’m just not exactly sure why you would think to ask me.” Tango never went on their other adventures no matter how many times they asked. After all, he had better things to do than chase wind and broken air conditioning, and it was dangerous to set a precedent. “You’re the ones who believe in all that fancy mystical stuff, not me.”

Zed stopped bouncing, and Impulse quickly brought forward the second, more practical half of their pitch. “We know you don’t believe in any of this, but even if ghosts aren’t real-”

“Which they are!”

“Right. A lot of people believe they are real, and will pay good money for some help handling them.” 

Tango pondered this for a moment, making A Face for effect that made Zed giggle. Impulse had a good point, as was often the case unfortunately. Tango didn’t have a stable source of income at the moment, and an actual business could help quite a bit with groceries, especially if Impulse was going to keep stealing his snacks every time he came over. And working with friends would certainly be a bonus.

“What the hell, I’m in. Worst case scenario nothing happens and I laugh at you two.” Zedaph lit up like an over ambitious Christmas tree, resuming his bouncing with even more enthusiasm than before. 

Impulse just grinned, “And best case scenario you finally figure out the truth.”

“In your dreams, Impy.”

-

Tango opened his eyes, and found himself lying prone on the floor. What was I doing? The dark, musty room plus Impulse and Zed looming over him struck a bell in his head.

They were on a job, as was the case most nights. Why Zed and Impulse insisted they do this at night was beyond him, but that was an argument for another time. A nonsensical ventilation system and a questionable foundation caused strange happenings in the home, and the trio had been called in. But even Tango had to admit this house was strange, and different from the others. The moment he entered, the hairs on the back of his neck raised, and he felt a chill. Their whole visit had been shadowed by a sense of wrongness. 

“...Tango? Is that you?” Impulse’s voice broke the silence, with a hint of uncertainty that shouldn’t have been there.

“Yeah dude, of course it’s me. What happened?” Tango groaned, pushing himself up into a sitting position. His head spun, but he forced himself to stand.

Zed raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Alright, I know this is going to sound really strange, but we think you got possessed?” 

Tango stared blankly at his two friends, and finally through the fog in his head realized they were dead serious. “Really guys? Come on, I know you believe in ghosts and all but isn’t possession a little bit much?”

Impulse started wringing his hands, and Zed spoke up, quieter than before. Neither one would make eye contact. “You… you weren’t yourself Tango. You looked angry, and kept throwing things.” Huh. Well that explained the broken furniture scattered around the room, and why Tango was so sore. “You knocked over a salt shaker, then suddenly passed out when the salt touched you.”

Tango was fairly certain he had never done that before. He was unnerved by the gap in his memory, but he tucked that into a corner of his mind to unpack later. Right now he had to convince these two knuckleheads that he wasn’t possessed.

“I haven’t eaten today, it was probably that.” They gaped at him, but whether it was because of his adamant skepticism or his poor eating habits Tango couldn’t tell. “It might be like… a low blood sugar thing.” Tango tried his best to be nonchalant, but his friends didn’t look relieved.

Zed stood up, the worry in his face replaced with anger as he crossed the room in long strides towards the door. “I really can’t believe you. Here we are, worried for your life and soul, and you call it low blood sugar.”

That wasn’t meant to happen. Tango rushed to fix his mistake. “I- I’m sorry man. I know you guys are worried, but I’m fine now! Whatever it was, it seems to be gone.” A small smile crossed his friend’s face, and Impulse moved to stand behind Tango, clapping a hand on his back.

“All that matters is you’re alright. Anyway, I think the salt scared the ghost off, so how about we head home, get some post mission pizza for that low blood sugar of yours?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Tango grimaced at the disaster that he had apparently made. “How about we tell the homeowners that the ghost did this?”

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

The ironic thing is that he wasn’t even on a mission at the time.

Tango was on his way home, cradling a bandaged hand that he would surely have to explain the second he walked into the apartment he shared with his business partners. His mind repeated the events of the past hour as he made his way down the sidewalk.

He had been browsing a thrift store, searching for a new pair of boots after his old pair wore out. He loved them dearly, but when the sole ripped off for the third time, Impulse drew the line and sent him off to find a new pair. His wandering/ moping brought him to One Man’s Trash: a rickety, rundown looking thrift store that was absolutely perfect. In Tango’s experience, all the good stuff got snatched up too fast at more popular stores, and there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with this place other than its appearance. 

He delicately pushed the door open, greeted by a dusty smell mixed with cleaning supplies, and  a loud, clear bell that was hung above the doorway. The interior walls were plastered with peeling, faded orange wallpaper that Tango guessed was at least 50 years old. They were decorated with dozens of picture frames containing vintage photos and postcards, each with its own price tag. The grey, carpeted floor complained where he stepped, and it was covered in tables with items for sale. It seemed people donated plenty, but never shopped here. Nobody was attending the front counter, which wasn’t a surprise for a place that probably only saw one customer a month, so Tango began his quest for the perfect pair.

After spending a good hour searching every nook and cranny of the disorganized sales floor, he found a sturdy pair of black leather boots hidden underneath a table, almost knee high with a one inch heel. They were covered in buckles and looked like they would be featured in a suburban parent’s nightmares. In the entire time he was there nobody had come out of the doorway in the back of the room, which Tango admitted was a tad strange. He even checked the sign in the front window to be sure, but the word ‘open’ was still lit up in neon just as it had been when he entered. He tapped the bell next to the cash register, but after a minute still nobody had arrived. He rang it again, and once more after that, still with no answer.

“Hello?” He tried, walking towards the only other doorway in the room, searching for a break room or something where the cashier might be. Maybe they fell asleep. “Is anyone here? I’ve got this pair of boots I want to buy.” 

Still no answer.

He felt awful about invading the back room like this, but he was growing concerned. What if something had happened to the cashier? What if someone was in trouble? So, he pushed open the door, and found himself staring up at someone; a man with frazzled black hair and a brown suit that looked about as old as the wallpaper. 

Except he could also see the break room. Through the man’s chest.

He blinked rapidly, trying to process what was certainly just a trick of the light. It was obviously just a shadow on the fabric that looked like a couch behind him. A very detailed couch, covered in a floral pattern with two overstuffed pillows on either end. The strange man didn’t say a word, simply staring at Tango with an increasingly malicious grin, watching his mind try to wrap itself around what he was seeing. 

Then, without warning, he snatched Tango by the wrist, spinning him around and leaving bleeding scratches where the man’s claw-like nails had torn into Tango’s skin. Before he could even register the pain, the man charged at him and Tango braced for impact, but felt a deep chill instead. It was the coldest he had ever felt, as if every winter from the next hundred years had come to take out their wrath on one man. 

It passed half a second later, leaving Tango shivering and clutching his bleeding hand. The man was gone. “How did he- oh shit.”

Sometimes, there comes a time when a person must accept defeat. When they’ve lost the battle, and are left with nothing but their pride. As Tango kneeled on the carpet, frozen to his core and holding his bleeding hand, the boots long forgotten, he could only see one logical explanation for… all of this. 

“...Ghosts are actually real.”

So it turned out that the shopkeeper had to step out for a few hours due to an emergency, and also that ghosts exist and haunt thrift stores.

The cashier was really quite nice about the whole ordeal, offering Tango some first aid and the boots he found for free as an apology for their otherworldly roommate’s “antisocial habits.” As Tango walked home, boots in his uninjured hand, he had another revelation, albeit not as earth shattering as the first. He didn’t actually have to tell Zed and Impulse what happened while he was out. It would keep them humble to have someone constantly denying the validity of their work, and Tango may or may not have found it a little, tiny bit funny. He was doing them a service, really! Tango grinned to himself, delighted by how much his friends would appreciate* his help**.

*they did not appreciate this, and were in fact greatly annoyed

**this was not remotely helpful to anyone

-

Tango woke up, finding himself on the floor as he now did more often than most people would consider normal. Then again, most people weren’t an optimal vessel for otherworldly entities. This time though… something was wrong. More wrong than usual.

He was cold, despite the thick summer air, and he felt like his lungs had shrunk to a quarter of their size, his breath coming in short puffs. He noticed that he was in the same room from before he lost consciousness, and that it was in the same condition he had left it in, which didn’t happen often. Usually ghosts took advantage of corporeal hands to do some property damage, but this time the modern, expensive looking couches were thankfully unbroken, same with the family pictures on the walls. 

... What was on his face? Tango felt a liquid slowly running down his cheek. Had the ghost been crying? That was a first. He reached a hand up to wipe away the tears and saw a flash of red. There was a smudge of blood on his left hand, but no injury.

He felt dread settle in his stomach, and slowly reached up with his clean right hand to touch what he had assumed was tears.

Sure enough, his fingertips came away red. “What the hell?” He asked, to nobody in particular.

“Tango! Oh my god, are you alright? Of course not, why am I asking that?” Zedaph burst into the living room, seemingly invited by Tango’s outburst. He grimaced at the floor and Tango followed his gaze to see a concerningly large pool of blood surrounding Tango. This would certainly explain why he felt so much worse than usual. “It threatened you and forced us to leave but then I didn’t leave and I snuck some sage into the room and then I heard a thud and-”

“Zed, slow down.” Tango groaned, holding his spinning head in his hands. “I can’t process a word you’re saying right now.” 

Zed seemed to remember his friend’s recent blood loss, looking sheepish. “Right, my bad. It’s a long story, but we need to get you to a hospital or something. Not to be rude, but you look awful.” 

“It’s alright, I feel awful so at least I match on the outside.” Zed started to walk across the room, trying not to step in the puddle whilst also trying to help Tango up.

Eventually he managed to pull Tango up by the hand, holding him steady when he started to sway.

Impulse greeted them with relief when they made it out to the car, Tango leaning on Zed’s shoulder, but he looked horrified once Tango’s face came into view. “Oh my god!” He covered his mouth with both hands, then immediately dropped them as though he had been rude. “Oh man, sorry about that, it’s just- your eyes…”

Tango shrugged, “Yeah, they seem to have sprung a leak.” 

“Well I knew about that, but…” His eyebrows furrowed as even he, a believer in almost anything supernatural, was confused about whatever disturbing thing this ghost had done. “They changed colour? They’re red now. Like, the whole eye, even the white bit.”

“Cool.”

Zed piped up from his position under Tango’s arm. “‘Cool’? What do you mean ‘cool’?” He did his best to make air quotes without dropping his friend, who had clearly gone mad. “You literally got possessed and started bleeding from your eyes, and now they’ve changed colour, how is any of that cool?”

Tango, in his noble quest to annoy his friends, just shrugged again. “Probably burst a blood vessel or something, and it got in my eyes. Man, why is it always ghosts with you two?”

A Look came across Impulse’s face. Probably Zed’s too, but Tango couldn’t exactly see him. It was a Look that meant Tango had completely baffled them with his supposed obliviousness, which had only happened a few glorious times.

“Ok he’s clearly delirious, we should take him to the hospital.” Impulse pushed himself off the hood of the car and opened the back door, placing a towel on the seat. After all, this was Tango’s car and Impulse figured he probably wouldn’t appreciate blood all over the back seat.

“I mean, regardless of his bullshit he definitely needs to see a doctor, there was a lot of blood on that floor.” Zed quickly followed, helping Tango into the backseat then sliding in next to him. Tango supposed it was to keep an eye on him, which was great because he felt ready to pass out again.

On the bright side, he caught a glimpse of his eyes in the rear view mirror and they did in fact look cool as hell. Of course, Zed and Impulse later disagreed because it could have been a ‘serious medical issue,’ but that was their problem.

-

At the end of a very long and very strange day, the trio sat around on a variety of couches and chairs in their living room, four half eaten pizzas scattered about the room. Although, they weren’t exactly a trio anymore - a new member had decided to join them regardless of what Tango, Zed, and Impulse had to say about it. An entity (for he surely wasn’t human) known only as the Beetlejhost sat cross legged in an armchair, looking completely at home despite only having been there for about two hours.

If asked, none of the ghost hunters could precisely recall how the Beetlejhost had joined them. One moment they were on a job like any other, the next they were being insulted up and down by a ghost in a black and white striped suit. After that first encounter he hadn’t left them alone, despite their efforts including but not limited to: every ghost busting method they had ever heard of, and others that they hadn’t. 

Impulse sat up straight for no discernable reason, smacking the arms of his chair and startling everyone except for, of course, the Beetlejhost. He turned to Tango with a shit eating grin, which was absolutely a cause for concern.

“Hey Tango?” Uh oh. If the grin wasn’t bad enough, the singing tone in his voice solidified that whatever thought just entered his mind was truly devious. That or incredibly embarrassing. Maybe both. “It seems like our new roommate has a few… strange qualities. Supernatural, one could say.” He looked expectantly at Tango, that awful grin never leaving his face.

Uh oh.

Tango supposed that the jig was up. It had been a good run, he supposed. “Yeah, whatever. Ghosts are real, you happy?”

Just because he was busted didn’t mean he couldn’t sulk, so he crossed his arms and sank into his chair, completing the look by sticking out his bottom lip like a child who was just told ‘no.’

Zed piped up from where the others had assumed he was napping, not bothering to remove his face from where it was planted on the couch. “Absolutely.” The word was muffled, but it got his point across. Meanwhile, Impulse was smugly eating another slice of room temperature pepperoni pizza. Vindicated at last, after over a year of exasperated arguments and comical obliviousness. 

“I hope you know I’m only admitting it because I’m afraid of what the Beetlejhost would do to convince me.” Tango gave up on his sulking and walked across the room to the box of cheese pizza precariously balanced on the edge of the coffee table. The man (or ghost? I suppose one can be both.) in question was looking off into the distance, lost in assuredly horrible thoughts. “And for the record, I figured the whole ghost thing out months ago, I just really liked annoying you guys.”

“Months ago?” Impulse held his pizza inches away from his mouth, the grin wiped off his face. “Are you telling me that when a ghost literally put you in the hospital and you still denied it, that was all just to annoy us?”

Now it was Tango’s turn to be smug. “It worked, didn’t it?”

-

So no, Tango didn’t believe in ghosts. But after everything he’d seen, he sure as hell believed in them now.

[glitterytidalwavedragon]

Expanding into my other Fandoms (I’m gonna have to take a stance) Read the whole thing please.

One of my oldest and most beloved anime is Inuyasha. As of late I have been binged watching the hell out of it as I am getting my BFF into different anime shows. We are really close to entering the Yashahime part of the series, and she asked if I planned to write fanfiction involving the one character which made me even watch the show as a 10-year-old.

Sesshomaru

The first episode I ever watched involved this aloof, entitled dog fighting his brother over the sword in their father’s grave. Specifically, it was part 3 of that whole episode series were Kagome pulled out the sword. I at the time had 3 dogs of German Sheppard/wolf hybrid, they were MASSIVE dogs, fell in love with the big white fluff that was Sesshomaru’s demon form. I use to sneak staying up and watch the show faithfully to see the goodest boy as it was only on at 11pm EST on adult swim. Which meant it was bad and I was breaking the rules, I felt like a rebel.

Now I hesitated answering that question. She has no idea of what is in Yashahime, she is being careful not to spoil it so I told her I didn’t know. Recently, to find out what the feel is for Sesshomaru content, I looked into the tag on tumblr…

OH MY GOD.

Sesshomaru’s tag is FLOODED with hate. Like every four post, there is hate, distain, and attacking happening. As someone who watches Yashahime, I quickly knew why.

Sessrin.

Even now I sigh. And I sigh HARD. I am not for, nor am I against the Sessrin train. Same for the Sesskagu train. I think both sides need to look at things on a logical prospective. I plan to do just that. I know I will get hate from the either side and maybe some support as well. But if I am going to do anything in this fandom (as I like doing ships and reader inserts) it will come up.

So, like my Kaiba post, and my Sebastian Heel post, I will use my research skills as well as my COLLEGE DEGREE WHICH HAS BOTH ART AND MEDIEVAL HISTORY labelled on it to explain why this progression in the story is normal to anti-Sessrin fans and why this isn’t a crime by story standards nor should we look at it as a crime.

AS WELL

Explain to Sessrin fans why it is so weird for non-shippers to see it play out and why so much hate formed.

As I let out another sigh, we shall begin. Let’s start at an historical prospective. (Links at the bottom).

PLEASE READ THE WHOLE THING! I’LL BE ABLE TO TELL!

~~

I will start with the information I can access right away.

While finding charts on the life-span of common folk in 1590’s Feudal Japan is rather difficult, Ancient.edu states that the average lifespan was about 50. To put this in perspective, the average lifespan of Europeans at the time was somewhere between 40-45 with the latter being rare. Since most of us reading are not from Japanese descent, I will through Europe in this first.

If we look at the same time frame of 1590, we are looking at most of Western Europe had now entered the age of Renaissance. According to sources from Learning Resources in association with the National Gallery of Art, marriage was not what TV drama’s from HBO or Hulu depicted. By today standards they would be a crime, as the average age for marriage of an adult female was age 14…

The reasoning behind the young marriage age had multiple factors. First being, females were considered an adult once they were menstruating. Birthing also proved to be fatal, and since the lifespan was at best 40 and 45 if they were lucky, there was really no room to wait. Also Europe at the time had became hugely focused on making sure blood lines were legitimate, meaning to ensure the girl was a virgin, the moment she was able to reproduced she was married off. Those they married were not young teenagers either. Most marriages, a man would be in their thirties, and had probably multiple wives as women died more than men when not counting the battle field.

To make matters worse for the Renaissance Lady, these marriages would leave many young males unable to marry and if their husband died in battle, well, unfortunately they were not seen as desirable. This was due to the idea of a ‘free woman’. Should the girl not have a father, brother or uncle to return to as they too died, a widow had her freedom. But that freedom came at a cost. She would be assumed to have slept around, and in many writings, such as the Canterbury Tales, where Geoffrey Chaucer writes about a Window on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land survived her five husbands and the men in her family. In short, she was made to be a slut and to be looked down upon as no man controlled her.

The point of talking about Europe is because that is something most of us Non-Asian or Japanese people consume and like to paint in large romantic brush strokes of knights and magic. Honestly, reading G.R.R.Martin Song of Ice and Fire, he uses this model as we see the Queen of Dragons, Danny start off at age thirteen shortly after she had her first menstruation.  

Now let’s look at Feudal Japan.

As stated before, the lifespan was around 50 years. In some populations, this was even shorter. Nagaoka, Hirata, Yokota and Matsu’ura’s on demographic data at the Yuigahama-minami area in Kamakura, Japan and found both male and female remains that suggested life expectancy to have ended around age 24-25. This was largely due to living conditions and public health. In areas like these, it would make the most sense to marry and repopulate quickly as the expectancy of life was half the national average at the time.

To my frustration, I could not find a clear marriage age for Japanese women at the time of the edo period. HOWEVER, where there is a will there is a way. I took a look at famous Lords or Daimyo’s of the time. The average age of marriage of their wives was between 12-14. Much younger than I expected, but it made sense considering this is a time where war ran the show and marriage was strictly about political gain. One of these Daimyo’s was Masamune Date, who was also 13, but then as he got older took concubines who became considerably younger than him as he became older. The goal was to have as many children as possible for hires and for political marriages to gain power.

Now lets look at Inuyasha the MANGA

Lets get the manga timeline proper here. The whole adventure took place in 11 months, a month shy of Kagome’s 16th birthday. Doing a few estimations, Rin would have travelled with Sesshomaru about 8-9 of those months. But before we get into the relationship, lets look at something the ANIME made a huge mistake with in the beginning and tried to fix as the story went on.

For some reason I could only fine gifs for the Early appearances of Sesshomaru so bear with me.

Early appearances in the manga

 ^ He was so fickle and a trickster then...

Now early apperances in the anime.

Later appearance in the manga

Laster appearance in the anime

Notice the issue here? 

Sesshomaru was CONSIDERABLY younger looking in the start of the manga. In the anime, he started off looking like an fully adult male. But as the anime went on, they tried to make Sesshomaru look younger with subtle changes to his jaw line, eye size, and his height. Yeah, his height had changed. They made him shorter.

While in the manga, we see this young-teen looking demon, slowly mature over 11 months to look like he is in his later teens and by series end, closer to being in his late teens or twenty. Yes, art changes over time, but the anime went a reverse route. I can only guess they spoke to the author of Inuyasha about her ships, as they did Drama CDs, and realized the mistake that was made in making him more mature than he was.

You can’t tell me he doesn’t look closer to his manga self in the final act, because he does.

Since we are on the topic of the anime, lets be clear. The anime timeline and manga timeline are very different. The story in the anime (in the English) suggests that OVER a year has past since Kagome started her journey. They try to fix this in the final act, but it was still so muddled as previous seasons are to be taken as cannon. This could have been due to an translation error in the early production when the anime no longer had anymore manga material to reference. But whatever the case, for English viewers the time the group spent together felt much longer.

So now we come to the heart of the issue.

Because of the mistakes of the anime, a lot of anti-sessrin see the relationship as father daughter. I’ll be honest, watching the anime and solely the anime as a teenager and as an adult (as the manga was on hold for a very long time due to author’s health. I was in college when it finished.), I too thought it was just a father-daughter relationship and Jaken the nanny who got punched all the time. In fact, the English took hard liberties with Kagura, as the English dubs often do with characters, and made it very clear her feelings for the demon lord and Sesshomaru very much recognized them (though he never responded). Even in her death scene, it felt as if he was saying good bye to a friend more than love interest. But who really knows, as there are things that point otherwise.  When another demon mock’s Kagura’s death, Sesshomaru gets super pissy.

The manga did also play with this fact when it came out in English, idk if the wording or message is different in the Japanese. Translation errors happen a lot even in todays releases, look at Kuroshitsuji.  So of course most anti-sessrin’s did not see this coming in Yashahime when Rin was named mother. In fact it felt like a betrayal as we were sure Sesshomaru had no romantic feelings.

Then there was the Kohaku/Rin mashup that was hinted left and right. The English anime, with its overly dramatic and blunt emotions made it appear one way. That in the end the two kids would probably be married. Then the anime as a whole made Sesshomaru older than intended. I can see why and understand how this became a problem.

On the other side of that coin.

If you followed the dub, seen ‘Swords of an Honorable Ruler’ and read the manga… Sesshomaru was not fatherly to Rin at all. In fact, Jaken picked up all of that leg work. Rin worried for Kohaku, but clearly loved Lord Sesshomaru. Sesshomaru cared about Kagura but he almost CRIED when he lost Rin.

We have to remember that Sesshomaru and Rin’s relationship must have been very hard for the demon. While we never see his mental process expect for a few rare times, we have to remember he hated humans. In the movie, he blamed a human for the early death of his father, Sesshomaru killed without mercy. It made sense that he wouldn’t be fatherly to Rin as her just being there should have caused countless inner conflicts. Hell, he even says his father’s weakness was humans, and look who picked up that trait.

Sesshomaru was designed to, someday, walk in his father’s footsteps. So sess/rin, not a surprise. Also when you see it in a historical perspective, Rin having kids around age 15-16, makes sense. In fact you could argue he waited too long for the time period.

We also need to look more at the manga when concerned with Yashahime. 8-9 months is all Rin travelled with him and he was like hold up, and left her at the village because he KNEW she needed to come to her own conclusion. That no matter what she picked he would live with and protect her. Unconditional love on his end. She cannon wise spent YEARS living with humans and MONTHS with Sesshomaru. Again, by manga standards of cannon.

Now I can already hear the screaming about age and what not. Some sources say Sesshomaru is over 900, by the rule of thumb, if we look at anime and movie releases, we have Sesshomaru being over 500 with no define age and Inuyasha around 270 years old being more pinpointed due to the movie. Just by going by ANIME CANNON. Kagome and Inuyasha, you have a 15 year old with a 270 year old man. If you say being pinned to the tree doesn’t count, then you have 220.

Also, here is something very interesting. In the episode where Inuyasha meets the unmother, he tells her, thinking it was his mom, she died when he was very small and we have flash backs later in the series of him being small running from demons. Demons clearly age much slower than humans, even half-demons. Inuyasha can be 270 but mentally and physically be 15, the same logic works for Sesshomaru, who in the manga is not much older than Inuyasha.

In the manga, there wasn’t any grooming, in the anime, there was a ton of mess-ups but no grooming.

Would this fly in todays world? HELL NO! NO, its gross, she’s a kid. Stop.

I know any fanfic I write will lean heavily on the side of father/daughter because that is what I grew up seeing on the screen. I can’t think of Rin as an adult because years of seeing her as a cheerful little girl. It’s like seeing G.O.T Arya about to have sex for the first time in season 8… I remember when she was a kid on the show. It was way to weird and I had to look away until it ended. But that’s my 2021 mentality.

But Inuyasha is not taking place in 2021. Feudal Japan is a whole other era with its own beliefs, morals and way of life. Those who understand this have nothing wrong with them. They just understand history.

Also, just to bang some nails in…

Anyone remember Bleach? Remember the MOST accepted couple was Ichigo and Rukia…. Rukia who was hundreds of years old and Ichigo who was 15… or Ichigo’s mom who was a teenager and his dad also hundreds of years old.

Most of this also boils down to Sesshomaru being a dude. As in reverse roles in animes its accepted and they don’t have the same historical context. Inuyasha is based off of historical context of Feudal Japan.

We need to stop spreading hate. We can’t accept some forms of literature because its European fantasy but bash other fantasy based literature for doing the same thing.

Sure, its weird for those who were use to seeing the father/daughter dynamic. Yes, there are extreme sessrin fans who post really questionable illegal content when they decide to leave Rin as an 8-year-old…

But this wasn’t ever meant to be perverted. The story was meant to make sense on a logical and historical base.

I hope everyone takes the time to read this. I love Inuyasha, I love Sesshomaru. I am just sick of seeing so many people fighting over what should be the revival of a beloved series. While yes, there is still room for sess/rin not being a thing, until it is stated otherwise, why hate each other? This fandom will only lose people by doing this. Calling people names or accusing them of illegal endorsement can hurt someone these days over social media.

Tumblr allows you to block tags. You don’t have to read anything or watch anything you don’t like. We gain nothing from attacking each other but can lose so much by doing so. Fanart, really good fan fiction, friends, ideas, sharing fond memories. Both sides have the right to feel as they feel, but no right in hurting each other.

A fandom is meant to bring people together. Not start a war…

Thank you.

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/ajpa.20402

http://www.italianrenaissanceresources.com/units/unit-2/essays/husbands-and-wives/#:~:text=Marriage%20not%20only%20reflected%20order,to%20ensure%20the%20bride's%20virginity.

https://www.ancient.eu/Canterbury_Tales/

https://www.ancient.eu/article/1424/daily-life-in-medieval-japan/#:~:text=Just%20as%20Japanese%20people%20today,in%20Western%20Europe%2C%20for%20example.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Date_Masamune

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Megohime

[waitimcomingtoo]

Hii! Can you do a Tom Holland x reader where they do the buzzfeed video reading thirst tweets and Tom gets jealous of the tweets, fluff fluff fluff. 💞💞 THANK YOUU

I love this idea! I hope you like it

Thirsty

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warning: it’s thirsty tweets, so adult humor and crude comments

Masterlist

“Hi I’m Y/n L/n.” Tom said to the camera while sneaking at glance at you to see if you laughed.

“And I’m Tom Holland.” You bounced off his joke with a giggle. “And today, we’re going to be reading thirsty tweets.”

“The tweets aren’t thirsty, darling. It’s the people writing them.” Tom corrected you. He gave the camera a pointed look as you laughed at your mistake, already feeling giddy for the video.

“I’m sorry. Let’s start the video, shall we?” You asked as you picked a tweet out of the bucket. “I wonder how big Tom Holland’s- oh and this is Buzzfeed!” You suddenly remembered to credit the creators of the video. Everyone on set, including Tom burst out laughing. Tom plucked the tweet out of your hands.

“I think we’ve heard enough of the one.” Tom said as he tossed the paper over his shoulder.

“Take a two minute break. That’ll be our intro.” Someone from behind the camera called. You gave them a thumbs up and turned to Tom.

“Are you excited or nervous?” You asked him as your straighten the collar of his jacket. You’d made a habit of tidying up Tom since he had a habit of being disheveled.

“I try to always turn my nerves into excitement.” Tom told you. “But I’m a little nervous about what they’re going to say about you. You, being so hot and all.”

You laughed and tossed some of your straightened hair behind your shoulder.

“Oh, you know. I aim to please.” You replied. You were a little nervous yourself. You could only imagine what crazy things fans could’ve tweeted at your movie star boyfriend. He was definitely a fan favorite, and had a whole army of girls begging to be his. You’d just recently announced that you were together and this was your first video together as an official couple. So yeah, you were nervous.

Your break ended and you picked the first official tweet out of the bucket.

“Tom Holland is zaddy.” You read. It was a nice, calm way to start the video.

“That wasn’t bad.” Tom nodded. “Short and sweet.” He selected a tweet from the bucket.

“Y/n L/n looks a lot like my next girlfriend.” He read. He made a displeased face at the camera.

“I don’t know, mate. I heard she has a boyfriend. A really good looking one too.” Tom joked. You rolled your eyes as he took another tweet.

“Tom Holland is so fine. I think I rewatched the scene when Peters suit falls off a million times.” He read.

“Same girl.” You commented. You took the bucket from his hands and put your hand on the side of your mouth, whispering loudly, “it’s even better in person.”

“If I could only let one person bone me the rest of my life, it would be Y/n L/n.” You read out loud. Your eyes widened at the bold tweet.

“That escalated quickly.” You said. Tom didn’t look amused.

“She already has someone to do that, so.” Tom shrugged smugly and tossed the tweet aside.

“Thomas!” You smacked his arm and looked at the camera. “Do you see what I have to put up with? Let’s keep it PG, please.”

“@YOURNAMELASTNAME, girl, what you doing? Get your ass back in the Louvre where you belong.” You read.

“I liked that one.” Tom said with a nod of approval. “Because you are a work of art.”

You smiled at him and picked out another tweet.

“My sexuality is the veins in Tom Holland’s right arm.” You smacked your knee as you laughed. Tom just shook his head.

“I don’t even know what that means.” He remarked as he took a tweet.

“Y/n L/n, if you’re reading this, by all means, foreclose on my house. Destroy my credit score. Flood my basement. Ruin my life. I beg you.” He read dramatically. The lack of crudeness towards earned a chuckle from him.

“Aw that’s...sweet?” You said, sounding more like a question. You look a tweet from the bucket and cleared your throat.

“I would let 30-50 feral hogs trample over me if Tom Holland was the paramedic who transferred my corpse into the back of the ambulance.” Tom read. You burst out laughing until your stomach hurt.

“That was graphic.” You said between giggles. “And incredibly specific.”

“She wouldn’t really need an ambulance at that point though, would she?” Tom asked you, not ready to leave the topic yet.

“I’ve never been trampled by 30-50 wild hogs, so I wouldn’t know.” You replied. Tom gave you a cheeky grin.

“It’s feral hogs, love.” He teased. He had a way of forgetting cameras were there when you were around.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You said sarcastically as you took a tweet.

“Tom Holland is the only man who deserves rights.” You read and nodded in agreement. Tom did as well which made you laugh.

“I want Y/n L/n to use my face as a trampoline.” Tom read. He looked at the paper in his hands for a long time. “Now, why are mine so tame and yours are borderline insane?” He was beginning to find the tweets less and less funny. He didn’t like people tweeting about you in such vulgar ways, especially when they didn’t even know you.

“I guess my fans just really like me.” You shrugged and picked up another tweet. “I want Tom Holland to drive over me with his private jet.”

“It’s actually Sonys jet, but I appreciate the gesture.” Tom answered as he took a tweet out of the bucket. “My ideal weight is Y/n L/n on top of me.” Tom clicked his tongue, feeling a little twinge of anger in the pit of his stomach. “That’s unfortunate, since she’s a little busy being on top of me.”

You looked at the camera with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“What did I say? PG!” You snatched the bucket from his hands and pretended to be angry. Tom knew he shouldn’t have said it, though be it true, but he just wanted to remind the people watching of your relationship. Tom took the bucket back from you and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“I’m just letting the fans know who’s you are.” Tom replied with a cocky smile. “All mine.”

“I just wanna know how Y/n L/ns lips feel😔” He read. “And then they put a little sad face emoji.”

“Aw. You don’t have to be sad.” You told the camera.

“They feel amazing, by the way.” Tom quipped, giving the camera a cheeky wink. “But you’re never gonna know.”

“I want Tom Holland to use his jawline to cut me into fries.” You read. It made you chuckle again. You slid your finger across Toms jawline and smiled.

“Me too, baby, me too.” You said and picked out another one.

“This one is about you again. It says “Tom Holland walks into a room and his ass walks in 20 minutes later.” I have to agree.” You nodded. “Daddy thiccums.”

“Don’t start with that again, darling.” Tom groaned. Someone had commented that on his post the week prior and you wouldn’t let him live it down. You thought it was the funniest nickname in existence. Tom, of course, hated it, which is exactly why you snuck it into conversations every now and then.

“What? There’s nothing to be ashamed of, baby. If you got it, flaunt it.” You announced as you swiped some hair off his forehead. He felt a little hot to the touch. You noticed his jaw was clenched for the first time. If you weren’t being filmed, you’d have been all over him, asking if he was okay. You knew you had to bite your tongue until the interview was over.

“Y/n L/n can have it anytime she wants it.” You read off the paper.

“She doesn’t want it.” Tom deadpanned.

“Hey.” You laughed and took the tweet from his hand. “That’s mean.”

“Look at his profile picture. He looks like a foot.” Tom pointed to the tiny profile picture that could barley be seen on the paper.

“A foot?” You laughed and took another tweet from the bucket. There was definitely something off about Tom. You were sure of it now.

”Tom Holland’s ass is phat with a PH.” You read. You looked at the camera and wiggled your eyebrows.

“Again, completely true.” You agreed.

“Why are all of these about my butt?” Tom asked with a smile, but sounding genuinely confused.

“Maybe because you’re dummy thick.” You shrugged and took another tweet.

“Y/n in that dress at the Far From Home premiere? She walked in and said BAWDY. She said body-ody-ody.” You read from the paper.

“Stop.” You put your hand over your face in sudden embarrassment. “You’re too kind.”

“Are they wrong, though? I loved you in that black and red dress.” Tom commented and took one from the bucket.

“I had to show my man some support by wearing his colors. My man, being Spider-Man I mean. Not this loser.” You pointed you thumb at Tom.

“Hey.” He put his hand over his heart and pouted at you. “I am your man.”

“I know.” You presses a quick kiss to his still red cheeks. “I’m only teasing, lover.”

Tom looked satisfied with you answer and read his tweet.

“Not to be horny on main, but I want to hold Tom Holland’s hand.” He said. He immediately slipped his hand into yours and held them up for the camera.

“Sorry.” He said. “My hands are full.”

“@backseatL/N asks, has Y/n broken up with the Brit yet? I’m tryna know if I can shoot my shot or not.” You read. You wished you’d read it to yourself before reading it out loud. It was sure to get a rise out of Tom.

“She did not.” Tom looked directly into the camera. “So you can not.”

You could hear the tension in his voice. He was wavering from joking around to actually being serious. You squeezed his hand gently to let him know everything was alright. Tom seemed to appreciate the gesture and gave you a grateful smile.

“Sorry guys.” You said, your eyes never leaving Tom. “You know I love a London boy.”

Tom picked out a tweet that had a picture of himself at the Far From Home premiere attached.

“I would let Tom Holland break my legs. I don’t know why this photo made me realize that but it did.” He read. You took the paper in your own hands to examine the picture.

“Oh God.” You said. “Remember when you took me golfing for like our third date and you hit me in the leg with a golf ball?”

“I do.” Tom bit back a smile. “I can’t believe you let me take you on another date after that.”

He appeared to be in a better mood until you read the next tweet.

“Y/n is way too fine to be wasting her time with that toothpick. I could show her how a REAL man does it. Just wait, @YOURNAMELASTNAME, I’m coming for you. #tomhollandbetterprayup.”

You grimaced and crumpled the tweet up into a ball. Tom did not look happy and you were starting to see why.

“I think she’s been shown how a real man does it.” Tom said, trying to sound like he was kidding for the camera but not succeeding. You could tell he was throughly pissed off now and hoped the fans wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Yes I have.” You slammed your fist down like you were in court. “Real men hit you with golf balls and then laugh instead of getting you ice.”

Tom laughed at your joke so you kept going to pull him out of his sour mood. “Also, who are they calling toothpick?” You asked as you squeezed Toms bicep. “This thing feels like a ripe avocado.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” Tom said in his sassy voice. You pinched his cheek before taking out another tweet.

“The sun shines for Y/n L/n. It only shines on the rest of us out of pity. It belongs to her and only her.” You read. “Aw. That was really cute.” You said. “Thank you, @fistmetonystark.”

The username caught you off guard. Tom let out a loud laugh as your face went red in embarrassment.

“Okay.” You dragged out the word. “Moving on.”

“I’m just trying to take a bubble bath and watch Home Alone with Tom Holland. Is that to much to ask?” Tom read off a paper.

“In my opinion, that is a lot to ask.” You kidded.

“I think the bath would get cold by the time the movie ended.” Tom said in an attempt to apply logic to the absurd tweet.

“But in my experience, bubble baths with Tom Holland are fun.” You saluted the camera and Tom smiled at you. Your attempt to calm him down wasn’t going unnoticed by him.

“They’re fun until Y/n gets soap in your eyes.” He said to the camera.

“Let the record show that I got soap in his eye once.” You emphasized. “And it was only because I happened to sneeze.”

Tom grabbed the leg of your stool and pulled your chair closer to his. You rested your head on his shoulder as he read the next one.

“@thatswhatmakesyoubootyful says, who said Tom Holland was allowed to have such a juicy dumper? I want answers.” Tom read and you bent over in a fit of laughter. “I can’t believe I had to read that with my own two eyes.”

“JUICY DUMPER.” You screamed. The crew laughed in the background. Tom just shook his head, stifling a laugh.

“@YOURNAMELASTNAME, I just want to put a ring on your pretty little finger. Lord knows Holland won’t do it.” You read once you caught your breath. You wiped a tear from your eye, still to fully recovering from the last tweet. Tom, who was fully recovered, took offense to this one.

“Holland will do it.” He snapped, almost sounding angry. “Holland will most definitely do it, and you can quote me on that, @chokemeharry2011.”

You giggled at the username and picked a paper out of the bucket.

“I want Tom Holland to chop me up and feed me to Tessa.” You raised your eyebrows. “Please don’t. She’s fat enough.”

“Hey!” Tom took the bucket from your hands. “Don’t make fun of my baby.”

“Your fat baby.” You said under your breath.

“Petition for Y/n L/n to win an Oscar for acting like she’s actually in love with Tom Holland.” Tom read, looking completely unamused.

“It’s not acting, but I would like an Oscar.” You poked Toms side but he was busy looking up at the ceiling with an annoyed expression. You gulped you picked up a tweet.

“I want Tom Holland to beat me with a sack of wet mice.” This got Tom laughing again, which made you relived. There were only a few left and you prayed they were tame.

“You know what Tom Holland has that I don’t have? Y/n L/n.” You began to read. “You know what I have that Tom Holland doesn’t have? Lips.”

You crumpled that one up too and gave a fake laugh.

“That one wasn’t even funny.” You said, mostly to Tom. His scowl was back on his face.

“I want to be baptized in Tom Holland’s sweat.” You tried to lighten the mood by reading one for him. He let a little air out and gave a small smile. You moved one of your legs to go over his and left it there. He wasn’t blind to what you were doing and rested his hand on your leg while taking a tweet.

“*pulls up to McDonalds window* can I get uhhhhhhh…Y/n L/n’s hand in marriage?” He read. He had to laugh at that one.

“Aw.” You looked up at the camera with a happy smile. “That’s actually wholesome. Thanks @babydollY/N.” You blew a kiss.

“That was the last one.” Tom looked inside the bucket and to his relief, didn’t see any more.

“Well that was us reading thirst tweets.” You said into the camera. “I feel like I need a shower. Or 12.”

“I feel like you need to block half the people who sent those in.” Tom half joked.

“Well, thank you so much Buzzfeed for having us.”

“And go see our movie, Spider-Man Far From Home.” Tom opened his arms out to the camera before wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders.

The camera man gave you the thumbs up, meaning he’d stopped filming. You and Tom went through the rest of your interviews for that day and didn’t get home until late. Luckily, you were doing press in London so you could stay at home and not a hotel. Tom was still acting a little off during the interviews. He kept his hand on your leg for all of them, and was a little more affectionate than usual. You were pretty sure he had kissed your cheek or lips in every single video you shot that day. Sure, that was the kind of stuff fans and shippers lived for, but Tom had never been one for PDA. When you finally got home, you asked him about his behavior.

“What’s up with you today? Is everything alright?” You asked him when you came out of the bathroom to find him lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling. You took a seat next to him as he sat up.

“I’m not gonna lie, those tweets made me kind of jealous.” Tom confessed. He insecurely toyed with your fingers and didn’t make eye contact.

“Why?” You asked him. You pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles, making him look at you.

“Because I feel like the whole world wants my girl.” He said sadly.

“But to your girl, you’re the whole world.” You assured him, cupping his face in your hands. He gave you a small smile at your corny words.

“You have a way with words, don’t you L/n?” He said, cheering up a little. “And thank you for what you did in the interview. I could tell you were trying to calm me down. I was just overwhelmed by all the people pinning for you. It made me afraid I was going to lose you.” Tom admitted. You shook you head and kissed him gently.

“Don’t worry, lover. You’re not gonna lose me to @fistmesteverogers or @babydollY/N. My heart is all yours.” You told him.

“It was @fistmetonystark.” Tom corrected, looking glum again. You couldn’t help but giggle at the stupid username.

“Whoever it was, it doesn’t matter. People can tweet me whatever they want. You’re the only one I have notifications on for, baby.” You said, trying to keep the conversation light to show Tom how he had nothing to worry about.

“Don’t you have notifications on for John Mulaney?” Tom asked, a smile finally poking through.

“Shhh.” You held a delicate finger to his lips and he laughed. “That’s not important. What’s important is I’m yours and you’re mine and no thirsty tweet could ever change that.”

“It’s not the tweets that are thirsty, it’s the people.” Tom reiterated.

“Well, let them be thirsty.” You declared, still in a joking manner. “The only thirst I’m ever gonna quench is yours.”

“Y/nnnn.” Tom whined and buried his face in your neck. You felt his hot breath on your collar bones. “I’m being serious. I don’t like people thinking about you that way. There are million of boys and girls out there who want to be run over with trucks or hit with a shovel just to be in the same room as you. How can I compete?” Tom asked, the bad feelings sinking in again.

“You can’t.” You shrugged, causing Tom to look at you quizzically. “Because there’s no competition.” You finished. Tom smiled a little as you used your pinky to tilt his face towards yours. “ Tommy, I love you. I’m never gonna love anybody else. So you can be jealous over those tweets but, it’s a waste of your time. Time that could be spent giving me love and affection.”

“You know I can’t resist love and affection.” Tom said with a happy smile. You’d finally pulled him out of his slump.

“Then stop thinking about those dumb tweets and kiss me.” You ordered.

Tom obeyed and pulled you in for a long and deep kiss. He held you close to him, even when you pulled away.

“Y/n?” Tom asked softly, sounding serious all of the sudden. You wonder if all the marriage talk in the video prompted him to ask you a certain question. You didn’t let your smile poke through and kept a calm look on your face.

“Yes?” You answered sweetly. Tom took your face in his hands and stared you deeply in your eyes. You peered back at his gentle brown eyes with all the love in the world. Tom took a deep breath, looked at the floor, and then at you.

“I want you to use my face as a trampoline.” He said finally, quoting the tweet from earlier. You smacked his hands off your face and punched him (with love) in the arm.

“You’re impossible.” You grumbled, feeling like an idiot for getting your hopes up. He, on the other hand, was dying with laughter.

“I am not impossible. I was in a movie called The Impossible, so that may be where you’re getting confused.” He teased. You’d had enough of his humor and got off the bed to walk away. “Come back! I need you to foreclose on my house.”

“Leave me alone, pervert.” You laughed, pushing him away as he tried to pull you back.

“Please? I just want you to flood my basement.” Tom continued to quote the tweets and pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on top of your head. Normally it’d be a sweet gesture, but he was pushing your buttons.

“No thanks.” You answered, giving in to the hug.

“Is it because I don’t have lips?” Tom asked. You groaned loudly and pulled yourself out of his embrace before he could see you smiling.

“I think I just heard a ribbit coming from your mouth.” You called as you walked away.

“Don’t go.” He grabbed your hands and pulled you back towards him. “I just want to know how your lips feel.”

“Two can play this game,” you lowered your voice to a grave tone, “daddy thiccums.”

“Okay.” Tom held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll stop. Just please, never say those words again.”

“I won’t.” You promised. You crossed your heart with your fingers. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a baddie with a fatty.”

“If you keep that up, Holland won’t put a ring on it.” Tom wagged his finger at you, giving in to the joke that made him upset earlier in the day.

“Well I simply can’t have that.” You said in a much calmer tone as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Tom rested his thick arms around your waist and held you flushed against him, pulling a little gasp from your throat.

“I can’t have that either.” Tom said lowly, a gleam of adoration in his tired brown eyes. “Can we just put today behind us and go to sleep?”

Tom picked you up bridal style before you could give him and answer. He placed you gently on the bed, both of you already having brushed your teeth, and climbed in next to you.

“Goodnight, lover of mine.” Tom yawned. He pressed a kiss to your lips before flopping onto his pillow.

“Goodnight...” You said mischievously.

“Don’t say it.” Tom warned in a tired voice.

“Da-“

You were instantly hit with a pillow.

“I told you not to say it.” Tom said, unable to hide his laughter.

“You’re right.” You said sincerely. “I’m sorry.”

You cuddled into Toms side and laid your head on his heartbeat. He rubbed lazy circles into your back and leaned his chin into your hair.

“But @chokemeharry2011 would never treat me this way.” You said quickly.

And thus, you were hit with another pillow.

[hopelessdreamersonly]

ONE MORE MINUTE.

Nate(Near)RiverxFem!Reader

Fluff

So, has been a while since I wrote and posted it in wattpad. I did it in my native language while I was really inspired because I love Near with my entire life, lol. It took me a while to translate because I was not in the mood and I do not see a lot of people who like the character, too. But I really wanted to post it again before 2021, I liked it the first time I did and it was the first scenario that I finished, so it has a special place in my heart, tehee.

I hope you like it and have in mind that english is not my first language, so please forgive me if there are any mistakes. Good reading. 💕🐢

    The man who was once called Near was in his nerves. The notebook that caused so much loss and pain was now being sold and the easiest way to stop it was reaching the Shinigami. An easy thing to do, you may assume. The problem was the lack of eyes. Only six people, including Near himself, were able to see the Death God, and look for him with only those twelve eyes... well, it would take way more time than they had.

   With this thought in mind, the now L was trying to develop a mechanism that should be able to recognise a shinigami's face, or at least Ryuk's. The 3D image of Ryuk without his eyes would be enough to make a child cry (to be honest, even an adult), but not L. He kept the usual patience that made it possible for him to become the sucessor of the World's Greatest Detective while wondering himself if it wasn't pointless to try to do something so out of reach.  Even though he already knew it was near to the impossible to create a mechanism of that level, have to repeat that out loud to Lidner kinda that made him feel a little upset. It was not looking right to him.

      While putting the second eye on that monstrosity's replica, L wondered himself if the orders he was giving to Lidner and Rester were somehow different of just telling them to stay still. Not that move in some way would make any difference, A-Kira was truly smart, and seemed to be acting with extra caution. He really was a hell of a rival. The albino was feeling as if the whole situation had just become senseless. He wasn't really against A-Kira, he just got interested in him because of his intelligence, so way to go so far? But, even like that, the idea of just stand there frustrated him.

      He accepted his fate when Aizawa sent the security cameras fotages. Since that moment, he knew there was nothing else to be done.

— I see...

His monotone voice was present, passing a fake image of his usual cool temper while making the replica he had worked for the past few hours explode.

— That's it.

Was all he said while laying again on his back, taking off a piece of the replica that got stuck on his face when it blew.

— "That's it"? L, aren't you going to act?

— If the Shinigami is really moving under the floor, there's nothing much we can do. We can't localise him and even if we could, we would not be able to reach him — the man said while breathing heavily again and resting his left arm on his forehead — all we can do is to sit and wait.

Lidner was kinda worried. She had known the detective for long enough to know when something was wrong with him and it was not normal to see him admitting fate. But there's was nothing she could do while leaving the building together with Rester.

While his mind was lost in a fine line between one million of thoughts and any thought at all, Nate's eyes reached his phone, sitting next to him. Even if he wasn't really someone that into cellphones or things like that, for some reason he felt as if he couldn't avoid to look at it.

It didn't take long for him to grab it and disk the only number he could think of.

— ... L?

Only hearing her voice already made his heart slow down it's beats, making his muscles relax and his body release all the pressure, but he was not experienced enough to say it to her and leave the indifference behind.

— If you're not busy, come over.

      Only thirty minutes passed since he received a positive response to his "invitation" when it was possible to hear the sound of  the elevator opening, followed by sounds of steps that Near scarily could recognise.

— Hey... I'm here.

The characteristic softness of her voice sounded like an hearing therapy to Nate. But him, obviously, didn't even bother to look at her while kept piling balls and dices in what would become an endless tower if he wasn't stopped.

— L, what is that?

She asked already in front of him in the bed, referring to what used to be a replica of Ryuk.

— A Shinigami's wreck.

He answered in a simple way, without even looking at the female.

She blinked a few times, trying to process if he was being serious or making some kind of joke. The second theory didn't sound probable to her.

— Ok, this is... definitely not weird.

Her brow was furrowed in confusion, but she had a smile in her face.

The detective's company walked to the carpet beside his notebook's desk, where the biggest part of the "Shinigami's wreck" was found and started to take the pieces one by one, cleaning it.

— I wonder how you could break it to this level... it almost look like you blew it.

She said that as a joke, but was right. It was something common to happen, by the way.

— That's because I did.

— You... what?

She took a moment to process it, but soon after looked at him with an annoyed expression that was rare to be manifested in her face.

He already knew he was in trouble, but being her, it was easier to just sit and hear her scold.

— Near, why did you do that? You could've got hurt! If you wanted to get rid of it, you could just trow it on the trash or even ask Gevanni to do so!

The fact that she called him by his childhood nickname did not passed unnoticed by Nate, that secretly found the action adorable.

He left the pile of cubes and balls that was working on (that by the way now was already way bigger than it was when the girl first arrived) and now sat on the edge of the bed, in his usual posture, this time hugging his right leg and resting his chin on the right knee.

- Who knows.

She was mad because of how irresponsible he was with himself and it made she feel mad about his indifferent behavior towards his health too.

— Afterwards, why did you call me? Did you need me for something?

Her hands were now resting in her hips while she glared at Nate with a definitely not friendly face. She looked like an angry mom waiting for an answer.

He was going to answer, but didn't have time when she noticed the small cut in his cheekbone.

— Nate, you're bleeding...

She stated while approaching him, touching the cut's place in a delicate way.

— That thing cut you when it blew, didn't it?

— ... yes.

It was all he could answer while habitually started to play with a strand of his hair, maidely avoiding her gaze.

At this time, she didn't even bother on scolding him, just left the room without saying a word.

Near was divided in 50/50 if she was either walking to calm herself down or if she was looking for some weapon to finally kill him. Maybe both.

It didn't take long for her to come back, though, carrying a tiny towel and a single band-aid with her.

River watched carefully as she approached him and gently took his chin in her left hand, raising slightly his head so she could pass the towel slowly over his cut, cleaning it.

The man flinched lightly under her touch and she furrowed her eyebrows in the failed tentative to mask the fact that she felt bad for "hurting" him.

— This is you fault. If you were more careful, I wouldn't have to be doing it now.

Both Nate and the girl didn't notice what his eyes were doing, but he was staring at her. She looked so beautiful when focused that it was almost impossible not to feel mesmerised by her features.

He only realized that was gazing when she put herself to talk again, after finishing taking care of his cut.

 — I think I overreact... it was not that bad as it seemed.

Said and put herself up again, but before the she could leave, was surprised by a pair of arms evolving her waist. At first, she didn't know how to react to that. It's not as if they never hugged before, but it's been a while...

 She kept her hands in the air for fraction of moment, feeling her heart warm as River borrowed his face inconsequently in her chest.

— Nate...

— Let's just stay like this for one more minute.

— ... ok.

[spicycreativity]

Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 1

Chapter: 1/12 Rating: T (for language) Content Warnings: Canon-typical Remus content. This chapter only: alcohol use Characters: All Pairings: Moceit, background Prinxiety, background Intrulogical (yes I played a little game of "pair the spares") Additional Tags: Hey it's the fic I published on Anon because I was embarrassed of how utterly pretentious it is!, post-PoF, sickfic, dirty poetry, humor interspersed with philosophy and Janus-typical pontification, this is VERY speculative and will get Jossed in the future lmao Summary: After claiming his place in the Light and coming face-to-face with the consequences of his actions, Janus finds himself unwillingly re-calibrating his moral compass. For selfish reasons, of course. But one apology snowballs into several, and soon he's running around the Mindscape with a low-grade fever and a guilty conscience as he desperately tries to regain some sense of self. Oh, and he's definitely not falling in love with Patton, so don't even bring it up. One Last Note: I wrote this in an ADHD fugue state. It is HEAVILY influenced by Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment, but there are also references to poetry and various other works of literature. I also deliberately used symbols, themes, and motifs. Most of them are pretty in your face except for the recurring ouroboros, which is used as a symbol of rebirth. ...Told you it was pretentious.

When you wake up to the promise of your dream world comin' true With one less friend to call on, was it someone that I knew? Away you will go sailing in a race among the ruins If you plan to face tomorrow, do it soon

Janus appeared in the Dark side of the Mindscape, elation swelling in his chest. Even the ringing headache and bitter taste in his mouth couldn't hollow the unfamiliar triumph that warmed him to the core. Caught up in his own thoughts, it took a moment for him to register the sight before him: Remus, upside-down on the couch, his brow furrowed and face an alarming shade of purple.

For a moment, Janus stood stock-still as he tried to get his bearings. He must have been more flustered than he'd realized-- He'd been aiming for his bedroom.

But here he was, staring down at Remus, who was definitely going to burst a blood vessel (or several) if he didn't flip over soon.

"That's not horrifying at all," Janus said, thinking it would be rude to dismiss Remus, especially since he had probably been eavesdropping. He had likely heard everything. Everything. Even the ugly parts.

"Do you remember when Thomas read that post about Nutty Putty Cave?" Remus asked in a strained, strangled voice. "That spelunker who died because he got stuck upside-down?"

"No," Janus said, before realizing his mistake. "Yes." He definitely wanted Remus to remind him of the gory details.

"That's what I thought," Remus said with a wicked grin.

Janus sighed through his nose. Remus, though he thrived on attention, seemed content enough to continue his experiment by himself. On the other hand, if Janus didn't bring up a certain insult he'd levied at Roman, Remus most certainly would, and at a time where it would cause the most upset and turmoil. Better for Janus to deal with it now, even if he would have to fight the tension pulling his muscles taut. He wanted to dance. He wanted to scream.

Hesitation proved to be Janus' downfall, and by the time he'd opened his mouth to broach the subject at hand, Remus had beaten him to the blow. "You're not usually this quiet, Oralboros. Snake got your tongue?"

Janus, again, sighed. Rather than answer, he doffed his hat, set it on the coffee table, and clumsily arranged himself upside-down next to Remus. The change in position immediately made his head throb. He ignored it. "I definitely meant it when I called you 'evil'."

Remus' eyes widened in faux-shock. "You called me evil ?" he shrieked, voice ringing out high and clear. "Me? How dare you. I'm an angel!"

At least Remus was taking it well. "Sarcasm is my thing," Janus said, realizing that he might make it out of this without having to properly apologize.

For some reason, Patton's face flashed into his mind, and a subsequent twinge of guilt made his tongue go sour. Fine. If there was ever a time to start telling uncomfortable truths… "But I am sorry I said that."

"Wow!" Remus laughed. "You must be upset." A red stain began to spill across his left eye. "You don't apologize."

"It’s not like I care about your feelings or anything." Janus would have liked to have drawn himself up to his full height, but it was impossible to do while upside-down. "As much as I'm enjoying watching your blood vessels slowly burst, would you please turn over before you hurt yourself? I've suffered enough psychological trauma for today."

"Oh, fine." Remus kicked his legs and landed neatly on his toes like a gymnast.

Janus, by contrast, got his arms tangled in his capelet and nearly folded himself in half before he found his balance again. "I meant to do that," he said, turning to grab his hat so Remus wouldn't see the blush on his face.

The sudden sensation of blood draining from his head made the room whirl. He steadied himself against Remus' shoulder until it slowed somewhat, but nothing could dampen the horrible ringing in his ears.

"Well," he said, adjusting his shirt. The sudden appearance of his conscience had taken the wind out of his sails more than he cared to admit, and all thoughts of dancing bled out of him along with a good deal of energy. "I'm not going to go scream into my pillows until I tire myself out."

"Being an agent of chaos is hard work," Remus said with a sage nod, "but that doesn't sound very relaxing, Mr Self Care."

"It's a form of meditation, if you think about it," Janus said.

Remus made a face. "You know I don't do that."

"...Meditate?"

"No, think."

"Ah. Well." Janus made only a token attempt to hide his fond smile. "Good night, Remus. Please stay up late and injure yourself."

"Can do, Snakeypoo.”

Janus turned. It was close enough, he might as well walk to his bedroom, especially considering how well his last attempt at appearing in it had gone.

The reason why that had been so difficult became apparent in mere moments. Janus froze in the hall and dropped to his knees at the giddy wave of horror and delight that made him too light-headed to stand.

He knelt in front of the empty stretch of wall where his door had been previously.  Heat flooded his face.

"Jay?" The rounded toes of Remus' boots appeared in his line of sight. Janus zeroed in on them, the mud splatters and stains on the soft leather. "You have an aneurysm or what?"

Janus, unable to speak, motioned for Remus to turn around. He couldn't deal with this right now.

"Ohhh," said Remus. "Well. Good luck with that ." He hauled Janus to his feet. "So you're a boner fide good guy now, huh?"

Janus stared over Remus' shoulder at the empty stretch of wall where his door used to be. "That depends entirely on who you ask."

Remus shrugged and rose up on his toes. "You can scream into my pillows instead, if you want."

"As tempting as that is…" Janus trailed off, his eyes still fixed on the wall. It was tempting, despite the constant chaos in Remus' room. But he'd have to face the Light side sooner or later. It wasn't like he could move his room back, not without psychologically damaging Thomas and undoing all the work he'd done. "I'm really looking forward to getting insulted some more."

"Alright," Remus said with a shrug. "Try not to throw me under the bus this time, alright? Unless it's a real bus…" His gaze became dreamy, unfocused. "And it's doing 50 in a school zone and there's a whole pack of screaming kids in the crosswalk--"

"Goodbye, Remus." Janus turned and left.

--

The barrier between the "dark" and the "light" sides of Thomas' brain had been a joint venture. It would have been there in some form no matter what, but it was Janus and Roman (with Patton's tacit blessing) who had worked to put up something more physical between them.

Janus ducked under the red curtain, trepidation percolating in his stomach, but what he found on the other side was anticlimactic to say the least: It was dead silent on this side of the barrier.

Janus wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. He knew by now that the so-called "Lights" had issues working out their interpersonal issues, and this most recent conflict wasn't the kind of thing you just got over. It did follow that they would all go off to lick their wounds for a time.

Hesitantly, toe-to-heel, Janus crept down the hall. It felt for all the world like he was sneaking around a vast hotel, right down to needlessly ornate design on the plush carpeting. That was probably Roman's doing.

Janus focused, trying to call the Mindscape to work for him. He wanted to go to his room.

The Mindscape listened. Janus turned a corner and found a row of doors stretching down yet another brightly-lit corridor. His eye was immediately drawn, not to the brilliant yellow of his own door, but to the figure huddled in front of it: Patton sat with his arms wrapped around his legs, forehead resting on his knees.

"Looking for someone?" Janus asked, slightly louder than necessary.

Patton jerked his head up. "Oh! Janus!" He plastered an unconvincing smile on his face. "You sure pop star-tled me."

Scaring Patton hadn't brought Janus nearly the level of schadenfreude he'd thought it would. He crossed his arms over his chest, extending a third to help Patton up. "Take your time getting to the point.”

"Oh." Patton accepted Janus' proffered hand and got to his feet. Warmth spilled from him, permeating the fabric of Janus' glove and gently heating his palm. "Well, it's just…" He took a deep breath. "I noticed your door and I thought-- Well, I wanted to make you feel welcome!"

A high-pitched tone resonated in Janus' skull. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from wincing at the mounting pressure-pain-exhaustion in his temples. "Aren't you just a saint ." Patton's face fell. Janus fought the urge to swear aloud. He usually had a better handle on himself, and he knew better than to alienate potential allies. "I mean, thank you, Patton. Truly. I appreciate it." Patton had proven himself useful. Janus should at least cultivate that relationship, even if it meant a little discomfort.

"Have you eaten?" Patton asked. "It's a little late, but I could make something if you wanted." He paused. "Maybe we could play cards or something." Another pause. "O-only if you want to, I mean."

Janus let his face remain impassive even as he internally cringed at the idea of staying awake for even another second. It would be so easy to brush Patton off with a few honeyed words and disappear beyond the barrier of his door. But Patton had stood up for him today, or at least he'd tried to. Janus sighed. Quid pro quo. "That sounds like an utter waste of time."

"Are you… I'm sorry, sometimes I can't tell when you're…"

"Yes, Patton. That sounds lovely."

Patton actually hopped in place, an adorable little jig that absolutely didn't send a confusing little shockwave of fondness through Janus' ribcage. "Really?"

"Really," Janus lied.

He followed Patton down the hall into the living room, which opened into the dining room and the kitchen. Janus studied his surroundings, trying to take in as much as his exhausted faculties would allow. Even in the absence of other Sides, the living room felt warm and welcoming. All the lights were on, and they bathed everything in gentle golden light .

"You're awfully quiet," Patton said.

Janus shook himself. "I was just getting my bearings."

"I guess you've never really been over here, huh?" Pattton opened the refrigerator. Was he actually going to cook , instead of just manifesting something? How quaint. "Do you like grilled cheese?"

It had been a long, confusing day. Doublespeak came to Janus as naturally as breathing, but he was obviously running circles around Patton even when he wasn't trying to. "Yes," he said, hoping to telegraph his sincerity by not emoting at all.

It seemed to work. Patton studied him for a moment before turning back to the fridge. "Then that's what I'll make."

Janus took advantage of this temporary distraction to clamber onto one of the barstools. The slick velvet of his capelet tended to disagree with surfaces like wood and vinyl, and he needed a moment to arrange things so he didn't look as unbalanced as he felt.

He watched Patton work in the kitchen, a detached coolness washing out the scene. Quid pro quo, he reminded himself when he felt his facade begin to slip. He owed Patton this.

He certainly didn't feel the slightest twinge of guilt, that he had been the one to orchestrate this breakdown. Yes, the Light Sides had loaded the gun, but in the end it was Janus who had pulled the trigger.

He shook his head and thought about playing cards, good Bicycle playing cards with holes punched through them like they'd come from a casino. "What should we play?" he asked, pulling the deck from his breast pocket.

Patton looked up from the stovetop, his eyes flicking to the cards in Janus' hand. "Do you know Kings in the Corners?"

"Not personally, no."

Patton laughed, but there was something cold about it. "It's really simple," he said. "I'll show you how to play and you can tell me if you like it."

--

It was nearly impossible to cheat at Kings in the Corners. Janus doubted this had been a calculated measure on Patton's part, doubted he had the capacity for that kind of foresight, but he respected it just the same.

They played in funereal silence, staring each other down across the light wood of the dining room table. Janus, ill-inclined to take off his gloves, utilized a napkin to keep from staining them with melted butter from the grilled cheese Patton had made. Neither one of them smiled. Neither one of them spoke.

Janus pulled a card from the deck to indicate the end of his turn and glanced up at Patton. His face was somber, almost sorrowful, and it clashed against the gentle domesticity of the dining room, with its floral table runner and mismatched placemats.

Janus started to laugh.

"What is it?" Patton asked, cheeks darkening. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

Janus swallowed down another peal of laughter and cleared his throat, unable to wholly restrain the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You look like I’m holding you here at gunpoint." It was somewhat ironic, considering Janus was the one who felt like he couldn't leave.

"What?" Patton smiled, but it was more akin to an offering than an expression of joy.

"It’s not really funny. " Janus wasn’t quite sure how to make Patton understand.

Patton sat back with a sigh, placing his cards facedown on the table. "But I guess it is pretty funny, huh? In a really sad way."

Janus almost asked what was sad about it before realizing that Patton probably missed his friends. Instead he said, "Yes" and stifled a yawn behind his free hand.

"I'll make coffee!" Patton leapt to his feet and was off to the kitchen before Janus could so much as blink.

The newfound solitude made it that much harder for Janus to ignore his headache, which had only worsened in the hour or so he'd been playing cards with Patton. Despite the nonchalant facade he'd tried so hard to project, he'd been holding himself tense.

Maybe the night (or morning, at this point) would be easier to tolerate if he had, say, a bit of gold rum.

The corner of a flask dug into Janus' hip. He smiled.

"Just how late are you planning on staying up?" he asked Patton when the latter returned holding two mismatched mugs.

"Oh, I don't know," Patton said. Lied. He set a mug down in front of Janus and then resumed his seat, the cards forgotten by his elbow. "I'm… A little scared of what tomorrow will be like."

Janus eased the flask out of his pocket. "Rum?"

"Oh, um," Patton said, staring at the flask. "I don't know…"

Janus raised an eyebrow, working something out. He landed on it a millisecond later: Patton wanted to be convinced. Easy enough. Janus opened the flask and poured what he hoped was a shot into his own mug. It was black, he noticed, except for the yellow snake that wrapped around it, its tail firmly in its own mouth. Ouroboros. "Surely you don't intend to make me drink alone?"

As Janus had expected, Patton buckled the second he was pushed. "I guess not."

It was funny, Janus mused as he carefully tipped rum into Patton's coffee, how lying was only off-limits when Janus suggested it. Hilarious.

But now wasn't the time for bitterness, now was the time to repay the debt he owed Patton. "Cheers," he said, pocketing the flask once more.

"Cheers."

Janus sipped his coffee. "You put milk in this," he observed.

Patton's smile was surprisingly sly. "I know you want me to think you take it black. Virgil did too, at first. I know you ‘Dark Sides’ have an image you like to uphold."

"And how does Virgil take his coffee now?" Janus asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"With Snickers-flavored creamer."

"Well, I do take my coffee black," Janus lied.

Patton's smile never faltered. "We'll see, kid-- Uh, Janus."

"Patton," Janus said, before he could start thinking about the implications of Patton wanting to call him 'kiddo,' "you are planning on sleeping tonight, aren't you?"

"Maybe eventually," Patton said, suddenly unable to look Janus in the eye. "At some point."

"Tomorrow will come whether or not you sleep. It's definitely better to pull an all-nighter and feel like garbage instead of facing everything with a clear head."

"I know." Patton leaned forward so he could rest his head on his hand.

For a moment, Janus was tempted to mirror him. Sitting up straight was becoming quite the chore. "I know how the others love a calm, rational discussion."

"Oh, I wish." Patton's expression turned wistful.

Janus stifled a yawn behind his hand. He had half-expected the coffee to counteract the depressant effect of the alcohol, but all he had to show for the combination was a racing heart.

"I'll be fine out here if you want to go to bed," Patton said. Without seeming to realize he was doing it, he brought his hand to his mouth and bit down on his thumbnail.

It was a tempting offer. A day ago, Janus would have taken it. After all, it wasn't like he cared about Patton outside of professional courtesy. They weren't friends. But guilt nagged at him and wouldn't let him entertain the idea of abandoning Patton for longer than a second.

"That's a remarkable impression of a window," Janus said, waiting for Patton to look confused before elaborating, "I can see right through you."

"You got me." Patton smiled sadly. "That's something I've always admired about you, Janus."

Now it was Janus' turn to be confused. "What?"

"You're so… clever."

Janus narrowed his eyes. "Please do keep trying to change the subject."

"It's just… I don't want to have to lie there and, and think about today and everything I did wrong. I hurt Thomas. I hurt my friends." Patton's eyes were shiny behind his glasses; the unshed tears sparkled in the light when he locked eyes with Janus. "Aren't you going to think about the same thing?"

Anger flared, perhaps prematurely, in Janus' chest. "About what you did wrong today?"

"About what you did wrong," Patton said timidly.

"I," Janus said icily, "didn't do anything wrong." He stared Patton down across the table, jaw set, daring him to push back. Let him lecture and nag, let him prove that he hadn't changed no matter what he said.

But Patton only nodded, his face lined with misery. "Okay," he softly. "I think you're right, Janus. We should go to bed."

Janus thought about how much faster he could get to bed if the table was cleared, and all the dishes and cards vanished in a blink.

"Um, Janus?" Patton said.

"Yes?"

"I don't regret everything that happened today."

"Oh?"

Patton only nodded and sank out.

Janus made a beeline for his own room; better to find his way there on foot rather than risk appearing in the wrong spot.

Once inside, he looked around to ensure nothing was amiss, eyes roving over the dark wood of his bookshelves and desk, his mirrored closet doors, the leather armchairs across from his bed.

Everything was exactly as Janus had left it. He nodded, satisfied, set his hat on the nightstand, and sprawled out of top of the covers without bothering to further undress.

One hazy thought crawled to the surface of his mind before he fell asleep: At least he wouldn't be one of the regrets haunting Patton tonight.

[thescorpioracer]

Sen Çal Kapımı 1 - Episode Recap

To be honest, this series of posts is mostly going to be a fashion roast. But DISCLAIMER! I really do love this show and Turkish TV in general, it’s just my preferred mode of media analysis is to pick things apart. 😂And I need everyone to know that I am very pro-women, and believe people should be able to dress how they want and not be judged for it or be looked down upon for it. But oh my god this wardrobe department/costumer needs to be STOPPED. I also have zero credentials to be talking about fashion, but will that stop me?

I’m going to make these posts assuming you’ve watched the show, and just comment on whatever comes up. There will be spoilers. Let’s go!

We start off with a voiceover from Eda Yıldız, an A+ romcom trope. (It wasn’t until my rewatch that I remembered that Eda used to do VOs at random intervals, and I’m kind of glad she stopped tbh.) She is a strong woman who wants to get her education and become a landscape architect/designer. She was all set to do that until- dun dun dun! - Serkan Bolat destroyed everything. 

Check out that dart board of a man (and this is the only time we see that photo there). And these outfits are probably the most normal and reasonable clothes she wears in the show. She’s a beautiful young woman, who was a college student, and now works outdoors as a florist. 10/10 outfit. 

Of course that transitions us into an epic slomo of Serkan exiting his private jet. He of course begins to berate his assistant on the phone in a way a friend described as reminiscent of The Devil Wears Prada.

@teamnick​​‘s commentary back when she first started the show. 

Serkan returns to his office for the first time in 2 months after working on business deals in London. Chaos ensues: Miranda Priestly is baaaaaaack.

See... here we have some good fashion choices! We meet the girls for the first time, while they try to sneak off to their graduation without making Eda feel bad that she won’t be receiving her diploma. Melek “Melo” is dressed in a sweet dress with a bold, romantic color, which captures her personality perfectly. Ceren, the rich daughter from a family of lawyers, looks a bit more high-fashion. The dress is short but it has long sleeves and no cleavage so it works out to be chic and elegant. Fifi is unapologetically herself with her full-black, punk wardrobe. Eda is again dressed in a pretty, but casual outfit. Nicely put together for her lower-middle-class lifestyle and her job as a florist.

Enter: the plot device to get our protagonists together. Serkan’s face says it all.

We are then introduced to the main couple’s respective cars. Serkan has his 2020 BMW (though the show blocks out the copyrighted branding) while Eda’s beat up SUV is clearly unreliable. What’s that? Another plot device being introduced? I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Also, I just noticed this, but for someone as uptight as Serkan, I’m surprised at how fun his suit jacket lining is. If I’m not mistaken the pattern is of a bunch of rainbow fish. #Snazzy, but they seem out of character?

Plot highlights:

Eda learns she can come back to school and finish her final year, but she’s lost her scholarship and will have to pay. She can’t.

Serkan gives his talk at the graduation (?)-- Is his talk just for architecture students? If so, why are Ceren, Fifi, and Melo there? We’ll never know. I know, I know... it’s all for the ~plot~

Eda calls Serkan out in front of everyone for taking away the scholarship that she earned from his company, Art Life. He is confused but unrepentant. She refuses to tell him her name.

She tries to deface his car with lipstick after keying the side (we never hear about the damage to his car after that). He catches her and wants to call the police, so she impulsively handcuffs them together with the plot devices from Selin’s wedding invitation sitting on his passenger seat.

They then have to go to Serkan’s urgent business meeting with an out-of-town client. Eda drives while they’re handcuffed together. Bickering ensues.

What is this? Foreshadowing? Symbolism?? Eda’s last name “Yıldız” is the Turkish word for “star” so... file that away for later.

One of my favorite parts about watching Turkish dramas is the experience of trying to decipher the fan translations. Add to the fact that Turkish only has 1 pronoun *chef’s kiss* 

Eda refuses to take the elevator to the 15th floor (we’ll learn about her claustrophobia later). Serkan is equally as stubborn, saying she owes  him for screwing up his day. But he has met his match in Eda with regards to stubbornness. They take the stairs.

More highlights:

First instance of fake dating - they need to hide the handcuffs from his client so Eda pretends she’s his girlfriend and a fellow investor.

The girls track Eda’s phone to the hotel and try to find her by asking around the premises. 

Eda charms the client into selling his land to Serkan.

We learn that Serkan is allergic to strawberries and has a lot of health anxiety. He’s a very tightly wound person.

Serkan says “Mashallah,” translator hears 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Engin brings way too many people to open the handcuffs and chaos ensues.

I feel like nothing can do justice to the comedy of 58:45 to 1:00:00 with Fifi using a bobby pin as a lock pick. The dramatic editing is 👌🏼

Leyla gets fired for somehow causing this drama??? And she is so happy to leave that stressful workplace omg, we don’t deserve her 🥺

Serkan and Eda go their separate ways, Eda prepared to never see her enemy again, but of course her phone and purse are still in his car so she has to go to his office at Art Life and confront him again.

Serkan has found out that Whoops, Art Life did cancel the study abroad scholarships to cut costs, but his CFO did it without telling him. And Serkan is pissed, but I think mainly about the fact that Eda did have some (SOME) grounds for yelling at him in public.

Leyla then explains the nonsensical reasoning behind her being fired-but-not-fired and still working. (Spoiler alert: she never goes anywhere and she is my favorite side character to this day).

Eda: “How can I piss Serkan off?” Leyla: “Find a mistake he’s made and he will fixate on it forever. But you won’t find anything.” Eda: “Hold my beer.”

Eda walks into Serkan’s office and his meeting. She gets her purse back and they fight about him not being willing to apologize for ruining her life and education. He refuses and says she owes him an apology for embarrassing him in public (no, dude).

He wants to give her back the scholarship and make it all go away but she rightly tells him that it won’t fix her broken pride from begging the company and her university for a second chance. But somehow her calling him a heartless “Robot” is what gets to him???? And he short-circuits. Eda walks out triumphant. 

~dRaMa!~

MEANWHILE

Melo, as well as being a perfume sales girl, also works as a flight attendant and wants Eda to cover her shift (we’ll get into how that doesn’t make sense in a minute) 

Eda says no, she’s going to meet her boyfriend, Cenk, who she hasn’t seen in months and has just returned from Italy.

Enter: Selin. Serkan’s ex who he dumped a while ago and is now engaged to the heir of a hotel empire. Serkan doesn’t like this. The two of them grew up together and are set to each inherit 50% of the holding company that Serkan’s father currently runs.

Right away Selin serves us with a gender reveal level color scheme.  Personally not a fan. They confirm that Serkan is coming to her engagement party tomorrow.

Meanwhile Eda  meets up with Cenk. Her outfit is still reasonable and cute for her character. He looks mildly like a hobo and doesn’t seem to have anything going for him (I know he’s a throwaway character but the two of them really don’t have anything in common).

This creeper keeps staring at them, but Cenk tries to explain it away and says he’s busy and can’t meet her again until the day after tomorrow. Eda is disappointed but accepts this. Creeper girl remains and remains a red flag to viewers, but apparently not to Eda.

Cut to later that evening, and of course our broody main man enjoys astronomy in his free time (???) idk what he’s charting and to what purpose but okay? 

Eda finds a mini first aid kit in her purse that Serkan put there before returning it. Queue montage of them treating their respective wrists for handcuff-related injuries. #couplegoals

Of course we also needed a sepia-toned flashback to earlier that day when the handcuffs contrived their faces to get too close together. #romance

Finallyyyyyyy it’s morning again and a new day.

Since Eda can’t see Cenk (good, he’s so boring), she agrees to fill in as a flight attendant for Melo, who’s side job is for a private plane company.

Now. This should not be a thing. Eda was in college to be a landscape architect and now works as a florist for her aunt... Where has she learned any relevant skills to work as a flight attendant?? Presumably nowhere. And I really don’t think a private plane company would be so easygoing about just having a random person fill in to cover for her friend? 

But does this show care about that? What do you think...

Also, instead of the standard white shirt, black skirt uniform requirements, the girls decide that this skimpy dress and heels is fine? Hmmm

Also lol @ Melo for assuming that the client who wants jasmine tea and fruit salad is probably a woman. And her telling Eda that the PRIVATE JET COMPANY would in fact have its own tea was very random and unnecessary. 

Back at the Bolat house compound, we meet the parents: Aydan and Alptekin. We’ll see them again later. Selin’s engagement party is today. 

Meanwhile Eda is just.... being a flight attendant, I guess??? And who could possibly be the passenger she has to take care of? Take a wild guess. Of course it’s Serkan Bolat.

And of course that tiny dress (THAT ALSO HAS A LEG SLIT?? WHY?? I really don’t need to see her vagina) looks very practical and professional... not! (Hande Erçel is a gorgeous human, and the dress looks good on her, don’t get me wrong. BUT THIS IS SITUATIONALLY INCORRECT ATTIRE). Also him just folding his vest and then social distancing from it... K? 😂

Eda panics and doesn’t want Serkan to see her and runs away back to her seat pod thing - Serkan takes issue with his fruit salad for ~plot reasons~ (EDIT: I’ve been informed that it’s because there was a strawberry in his fruit salad and since he’s allergic, of course it needed to be fixed. Why doesn’t the plane have a note of that??) and comes back to find this mystery flight attendant.

Eda is very stressed out about this encounter and is also starting to have a panic attack because, surprise, she’s also claustrophobic. 

After Serkan calms her down, they have a cute/civil conversation for the rest of the flight.

When they land, Eda realizes they’re on an island 2h45min away from Istanbul and she isn’t sure what to do with herself (How did she not already know where they were going, as the FLIGHT ATTENDANT??? So may red flags with this private jet company).

Serkan convinces Eda to come with him and she can hang out at the beach while he’s at Selin’s engagement party.

At the engagement party we finally meet Selin’s fiancé Ferit. He’s sweet and non-threatening and clearly insecure about Serkan being Selin’s ex.

This dress/skirt outfit Selin is wearing isn’t terrible, but it doesn’t scream rich socialite to me. Anything with feathers seems... a bit tacky/too showy? Like someone pretending to be rich? Idk, this outfit isn’t one I’m going to really take a stand on.

Does this engagement party warrant being a 2h45 min flight away? No. They try to explain it away as the couple wanting to have something small and private, even though they also invite the press?? But okay whatever, as long as Serkan and Eda cross paths again, I suppose.

Kaan Karadağ has been mentioned a couple times in passing, but now we finally meet our “villain.” Ferit’s friend, and Serkan & Selin’s childhood acquaintance, who has it out for Serkan bc he somehow bankrupted Kaan’s dad? Idk and I don’t really care but tl;dr they’re enemies. 

Another thing I love about Turkish dramas is the censoring. Like, they’ll allow alcohol to be on screen, but they won’t say the word and they’ll just blur out the bottle and any liquid that we’d assume is alcoholic 😂

In the evening, Serkan is tired and wants to leave and Ferit snidely jokes about how Serkan is too picky to have a fiancé of his own. Serkan flashes back to 1 entire day ago when he and Eda pretended to be dating at his business meeting, and says that actually he is engaged to someone and then peaces out.

Serkan finds Eda on the beach, and they are preparing to leave when a crowd of people (Selin, Ferit, and Kaan mainly), arrive to get a peek at Serkan’s new “fiancé.” Eda very reluctantly plays along (good thing she has that unnecessarily sexy “work” dress to help her look the part) and Serkan notices that for the first time ever, Selin is jealous of another woman. #drama

After they finally escape the crowd, Serkan makes an annoyed Eda an offer: Pretend to be his fiancé for the 2 months leading up to Selin’s wedding so he can get them to break up and prevent Ferit marrying into the company. In return, he will pay all the fees to help her complete her last year of studies in Italy.

Eda refuses, stating that she doesn’t want anything from him, and besides she has a boyfriend (Sure Jan; Cenk is such a joke). They have it out and then fly back to Istanbul. But of course the gossips at the engagement have spread the news of Serkan’s new woman so the paparazzi corner them at the airport when they land. 

So glad that we got to see this random mechanic find out the news (???)

They escape the cameras and Serkan takes her home, saying that Art Life has a press conference tomorrow, and she should come so he can save face and tell everyone that she was his assistant accompanying him for work to the party. Eda agrees. 

It should also be mentioned that Serkan still doesn’t know her name at this point?? She refused to tell him and Engin still hasn’t sent him the names of the scholarship candidates so it’s a bit miraculous that their relationship was at all believable.

The next day, Cenk wants to meet but Eda has to go to the press conference. The girls come too for whatever reason, and Melo is convinced that Cenk wants to propose. Eda just lets that fantasy take hold (why tho?), and Cenk shows up unexpectedly right before the press conference and takes Eda into the nearby hotel’s cafe so they can talk.

Eda seems ready for a proposal (they haven’t seen each other or really communicated in months??) but Cenk wants to break up. Eda is shocked (???) but then Cenk mentions that he has a new girlfriend from Italy that he adores, and oh by the way, it’s the creepy girl from the other night who also happens to be here right now?

Okay fine, I guess??? Cenk: “She’s doesn’t speak Turkish” Girlfriend: *clearly a Turkish actress*

Eda is upset that he brought his jealous girlfriend with him to break up with her and says something about how actually, she’s seeing Serkan Bolat now (maybe it’s just me being someone who doesn’t follow tabloids, but are business people really that popular in every day society where everyone knows who they are?). Cenk laughs at Eda, saying that everyone wants to be with Serkan Bolat, and that she’s bluffing.

Eda makes an impulsive decision, and walks away, over to where Serkan has started the press conference. And seals their fate as fake dating in the public eye.

Queue confetti. No really.

And there we have it. That’s the episode!

In all seriousness, it’s a pretty great pilot, especially for a romcom. It hits all the right beats, includes enough tropes, and tells us a lot about what we should expect in the episodes going forward. And no matter how much I make fun of it, I really do enjoy this show! It’s been such a nice distraction from Current Events. I’ve spent a lot of time watching these episodes just saying “oh my god” out loud to myself as I watch all of the cute/romantic gestures that give me a lot of second hand embarrassment (I forget that PDA makes me kinda uncomfortable 😂).

There wasn’t actually that much terrible fashion in this episode, which I didn’t notice until my rewatch. If I continue with this series of posts, I’m hoping they’ll end up being less plot-centric, and more about the situationally inappropriate outfits and strange subtitling choices. 

See you next time? 

[duchessfics]

Underestimation

(https://duchessfics.tumblr.com/post/612885556559593472)

Billie, Reader x Wilhemina

Requested by @urleastfavtree​: Can I request either Billie or Mina where they’re out at a bar and some guys are challenging themselves to get the waitresses (reader’s) number and then Billie/Mina asks for it right in front of the guys and they get the number and a kiss too???

Warning(s): Guys being dudes, Mentions of alcohol, Mentions of police, Brief bar fight (but nothing too serious)

Summary: While bartending, the reader has to deal with some sleazy business men, and in the process she meets one of her biggest idols. However, things get complicated when her girlfriend shows up to pick her up from work.

Word Count: 3875

A/n: I hope this turned out alright @urleastfavtree​. I know I kind of veered off from what you requested, but this idea crossed my mind and I couldn’t shake it off. 😊

While Billie didn’t imagine herself ending up at some bar in downtown LA, today’s location for her newest TV special was more intense than she anticipated. Of course years of experience have helped her to conjure up a white light of protection when necessary. But the aura of illumination can only do so much. It doesn’t prevent the ever-present anxiety of the unknown or sleepless nights due to nightmares from past interactions with the paranormal.

So that is why the medium is perched on a barstool, nursing a third glass of red wine and contemplating if some whiskey will be her next choice of beverage.

The low-lit room is practically empty, allowing the classic rock music to softly fill the room with the occasional snickers emitted from the small group of businessmen nearby and the light clink of the freshly washed glasses you replace on the racks behind the bar.

While you hear the men muttering amongst themselves with sporadic bursts of laughter, you remain focused on your task. Even though you’re a bartender, there is something about men that is unnerving to you. Of course you try to keep pleasant, but avoid any other non-essential interactions. Just thirty more minutes until you close. Then you’re free to go home.

“Hey, sweetheart, we’ll take another round of beers.” 

Sweetheart. 

You take a second to compose yourself, transforming your clenched jaw into a pleasant smile and turning to face the three men.

“Same beer?” You chirp, trying to ignore their roaming eyes.

The man who seems to be the ringleader sports a wolfish grin as he responds, “Whatever you think, darlin’.” For a second your lip tremors and nearly curls up in disgust. But you catch yourself and squat behind the counter to open the fridge and grab 3 beers. As you hold them by their necks, you take a deep breath to calm your nerves and temper. 

They’re just lonely. Think of the tips. They have designer suits on and if you play nice they may be generous.

When you stand back up, your pleasant façade is back in place and you remove the bottlecaps, setting the drinks before each man. In an effort to avoid speaking, you keep your eyes downcast as you take their empty bottles. However you make the mistake of meeting the gaze of the man with icy blue eyes. He takes a swig of his beer before saying with a smirk, “Thanks, doll.” You nod in acknowledgement sporting a reserved smile and put the bottles in the box containing the other empty bottles. Then you pick up the container and try not to run into the kitchen on your way to dump the discarded bottles into the recycling out back.

The blonde near the opposite end of the bar doesn’t miss the exchange, rolling her eyes at the men’s words. And when you disappear behind the door, the one who thanked you turns to the others and claims, “I bet I could get her number.” Then one who originally asked for beers scoffs and sneers, “She didn’t even look at you. Besides if anyone would get her number it’s me.”

Then the third one with slicked back jet black hair comments, “You both talk too much. I guarantee that if I asked for her number right now she would melt.” Their assertions make Billie softly chuckle, but she swallows her sounds down with a sip of wine before the men can notice. While she thinks this behavior is childish, it’s pretty typical. However, the medium nearly smashes the glass she holds when Mr. blue eyes makes a proposition:

“I’ll bet 50 bucks I can get her number first.”

“Only 50? I’m in.”

“Me too.”

Then the one who proposed the bet says, “And even if one of you somehow gets her before me, which I highly doubt will happen. But if it does...well…I don’t mind sloppy seconds.”

His comment makes all three of them snicker and they murmur words of agreement. Then, as if on cue, you re-enter the bar area with a small bucket of steaming water and washcloth.

You hear the men hiss indistinct words amongst themselves, but actively ignore them, setting the bucket towards the middle of the bar and wringing the excess water out of the rag before starting to wipe down the countertops. Unfortunately, the talkative leader clears his throat and asks, “So you’ve worked here awhile?”

You continue to wipe the counter clean, keeping your back to them as you answer, “Not really. Just about 6 months.”

Billie has to stifle another chuckle when the man who spoke grumbles at being practically ignored. So much for being suave.

Sadly, the cloth can only go so far, and you have to return to the bucket, making eye contact with the ringleader as he asks, “Well how did a pretty girl like yourself end up here?”

Jesus Christ. The arrogance of this man!

After swirling the wash cloth around in the soapy water, you wring out the excess water while replying in an attempt at a casual tone, “I gotta pay my bills somehow. This was just the first job that hired me when I moved here.” His eyebrows raise and he states, “Well I have plenty of friends in high places, darlin’. If you gave me your phone number I could get you a real nice job.” You can’t help but laugh at his supposedly generous offer and assure him, “I’m good for the moment. But thanks.” Then you step away to continue wiping down the counter, missing his enraged expression.

Billie smirks in amusement as she watches the other two silently tease him. Then the one with blue eyes looks in your direction to make his move. He smoothly says, “I’m sure it gets lonely sometimes. It’s nice to have some friends around, doll. I’ll make a deal with you: if you give me your number, I’ll give you mine.”

This time you don’t stop your motions, rolling your eyes as you answer in a firmer tone, “I’d rather not.”

The medium notices your clenched jaw and decides to grant you some reprieve. So she finishes off the rest of her wine in one generous-sized drink before asking in a calm tone, “Could I have another drink please? Whenever you have the chance, of course.” You look up to the blonde and silently thank her, rushing over to her side while answering, “Yes.” The other bartender must have served her earlier, because you would recognize that face and voice anywhere.

Billie Dean Howard.

But you don’t want to make her uncomfortable by acting star-struck. You’ve seen other celebrities here and nothing annoys them more than a pestering fan. When you meet her dark brown eyes, it’s fortunate that the lighting is dim so she can’t see your flustered expression. You take the empty wine glass before asking, “Same drink?”

The medium lets out a low hum while her eyes scan over the numerous bottles along the back wall of the bar. Then she looks to you and replies, “Actually I’ll take some whiskey.” So you pull down the bottle and take your time pouring the amber liquid into a fresh glass tumbler.

While you do, Billie softly asks, “Do you get guys like them often?” The question makes you let out a sigh of relief and you set the bottle back on the liquor shelf before looking to her and softly replying, “Depends on the night. But I’m glad someone else notices.” She smiles and holds out her hand while stating, “I’m—”

But you finish her sentence, “Billie Dean Howard. Medium of the stars.” You take her hand and shake it as you quickly stutter, “I-I didn’t mean to cut you off. It’s just…I’m a big fan.” But she just chuckles and releases your hand picking up the glass while murmuring with a raised eyebrow, “I take it you’ve seen some of my work?” You look down to the glossy tabletop as you admit, “I’ve watched you since your first lifetime special. I—I love your work Miss Howard.”

But you look to her and quickly apologize before assuring her, “I don’t mean to sound obsessive or anything—”

She chuckles and soothes, “You’re fine, sweetheart.” However she immediately stiffens and says, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say sweetheart. I’ve probably drank too much—”

But you cut her off and say with a smile, “No—No it’s ok. When you say it, it feels different.” She relaxes a little and takes a long swig of her drink, letting out a soft hiss at the warmth in her throat and cheeks. Then she goes to say something, but one of the men distinctly clears his throat making you look over.

It’s the one who hasn’t spoken to you holds up his bottle before saying, “I need another beer, sugar.” 

Another beer your ass. He was just jealous of the attention you were giving to Billie.

The woman across from you doesn’t miss the low growl in your throat. But you dutifully walk over and reply, “After this round I’ll have to cut you off since we’re closing.”

All three of the men’s eyes darken and the one who asked for another beer teases, “Awe come on, darlin’. We won’t stay long.” But you look to them and softly reply, “I’m afraid it isn’t up to me. But there’s a bar down the street that stays open later.” 

In response he purrs, “But if we go there we won’t be able to see your pretty face. I promise we’ll make it worth your time, sugar.” Your stomach churns and you feel nauseous with the way he looks at you like a piece of meat. And to your embarrassment, you find yourself weakly stuttering out, “I-I’m sorry. But my manager would be really upset.” Before anymore can be said you take their empty bottles and replace them with new ones, keeping your eyes downcast.

Fortunately the men don’t say anything to stop you besides muttering amongst themselves. When you go back to wiping the counter closer to Billie. Her chocolate brown eyes twinkle as she mischievously asks, “Are you gonna have to cut me off too?” Her false innocence causes you to smile before replying, “I’m afraid so, Miss Howard.”

She takes another sip, warming her body even more as she purrs, “Please, call me Billie.” You look up and notice her flushed cheeks and unfocused gaze. She is at least tipsy but looks to be closer to drunk. However, she does remain poised for the state she’s in and still looks devastatingly beautiful.

You both quietly observe each other for a moment before you look down to the counters you clean. Billie finishes off her drink, starting to feel the effects of drinking that whiskey so fast. Then she quietly says, “They were right about having friends in high places.”

You place the rag back in the water to rinse it and wring out the excess as you admit, “Probably.” Then you say in a softer tone, “But I don’t think I want their friends.” The blonde nods in understanding and looks down to her one finger that casually traces the rim of the now empty glass as she asks, 

“What if I could help you out? Only if you’re interested of course.” 

You pause your movements, mouth gaped in shock. But you manage to snap your mouth shut and ask, “Y-You would do that for me? But I’m no one special. I mean…I’m just a mediocre bartender.”

Billie chuckles and ceases her movements before looking up to you and answering, “I would be happy to. And you are special.” Her compliment sends you over the moon and you can’t stop grinning like an idiot. 

Billie Dean Howard just called you special. Does it get any better than that?

“Thank you Miss—I mean, Billie.”

She chuckles and replies, “You’re welcome. Could I get your name and number to contact you?” The way she looks to you with her warm brown eyes doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable. So you rip off a piece of paper off of the pad where you write down orders and jot down your cell phone number and name.

Maybe it’s because Billie’s drank too much or that she hasn’t slept with someone in a hot minute, but the way you bite your lip in concentration as you write makes her insides pool. Then when you look to her again and smile with the outside corners of your eyes crinkling a little at the movement, she feels a sense of desire filling her.

You slide her the slip of paper and say, “Thank you again, Billie. I definitely owe you one.” In the process, she gently takes your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours as she purrs, “You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I’m just happy to help.”

As she looks to you, the medium leans closer and says in a low purr, “Y/n is a beautiful name.” 

She doesn’t want to—she wouldn’t be kissing you, right? 

She keeps coming closer so you stutter out, “Billie, um, I-I didn’t mean to lead you on like that. You see I have—”

But you get cut off by your partner snarling, “Who the hell is this?” That’s when you see the woman in purple at the end of the bar. Her lip is curled, and she looks to Billie with nearly black eyes and if you don’t intervene now, the medium may be joining those she interviews permanently.

So you run over to your girlfriend and soothe, “It was just a misunderstanding, Mina. She’s had a lot to drink.” Then you cup her face and encourage her to look at you before you say, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. If you want, you can wait in the car. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She looks to you with those darkened eyes and you see a hint of hurt and betrayal behind the rage.

So you kiss her lips and whisper, “We can talk about it after I close. No secrets. She’s just drunk and got the wrong idea, Mina. I promise.”

Then Billie walks up, but doesn’t come too close before saying, “I’m sorry. She’s right. She never acted towards me; I’ve had too much to drink. But this is my fault. She was just saying that she had a girlfriend.”

By now your girlfriend has an arm draped around your waist and holds you possessively close. But you sense the heat of her initial rage stabilizing as she looks to you and asks in a low voice, “You were?” You wrap both of your arms around her and reply, “Yes. I know what it looked like, but I promise you, Mina you’re my girl. And I’m yours completely.” 

She pauses and you can sense the wheels turning in her head as she tries to decipher the truth. But she lets out a breath and says in a quiet voice, “I’ll just wait in the car.” You give her a small smile and press a kiss to her lips.

But the moment gets cut off by one of the men saying, “You would really choose her over one of us?”

That makes all three of you look over and you’ve had enough of their bullshit. Your eyes narrow and you shoot back, “Yes. I would.”

The man with blue eyes scoffs and comments, “But you don’t look like a lesbian. You dress so…normal.” That makes your blood boil and you don’t prevent your upper lip from curling as you sneer, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Now the lead man steps forward, and you back away from Mina to stand on your own so you face them directly. He looks to Billie and says, “Well the blonde,” then he pauses, looking her over before continuing, “she could go either way. And the ginger…” he trails off as he eyes her up and down. After a moment, his eyes return to yours and he asks,

“Are you sure you’re really into chicks, sweetheart? Maybe your past experience with men was lacking. But I can treat you like you deserve so you won’t have to settle for... less.”

That son of a bitch.

Rather than answering with words, you walk up and slam your fist into his jaw and keep punching as you yell, “Going out with you would be settling for less you piece of shit!” As you bust his nose and blood gushes out enough to get on your clothes and he yells, “Call the police!” Then you knee him where it counts, sending him down to the ground with a cry.

Once he’s down you run at the man with blue eyes and manage to punch him as you scream, “My girlfriend is better than any of you will ever be! You’re just some fucking perverts!” But before you can knock him or the other man down, two sets of arms wrap around yours, holding you back. You squirm in their grasp and only see red as you growl, “Let me go! They deserve this! The fucking bastards!”

But Billie uses her strength to hold you back on your left side while Wilhemina leans close on your right side. Then she says in an unusually soothing tone, “Hey, it’s ok, darling.” You thrash and roar, “But they insulted you! You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me!”

You see the red and blue lights flash outside of the bar and an officer enters the building. Immediately the men spring into action showing off the damage you enacted on them. That’s when you stop resisting and realize what the consequences of your actions could be. The officer doesn’t handcuff you, but you have to ride with him to the police station where both Wilhemina and Billie promise to meet you…

While Wilhemina Venable would never be caught in such a compromised position hugging you close to her while rubbing your back and murmuring soothing words in public. She not only permits this behavior but encourages you to keep close as you weep into her lilac dress.

Why did this have to be your fault? When you tried to explain to the officer how they were treating you, he said there was no evidence of harassment or threat. And with how injured the one man was, charges could be pressed. This is all your fault. You’ll be lucky to keep your job after this

Between your in-depth interview with the police, the men’s hurtful words, and the time now being around 2 in the morning the tears that pour from your eyes seem impossible to stop. Your face is buried in Mina’s chest and she keeps her arms wrapped around you protectively watching Billie calmly speak with the three men.

Even though the medium is still slightly inebriated, she keeps a charming smile on her lips and warm eyes as if discussing the weather. But Wilhemina also notices that her posture remains tall and her arms are crossed over her middle in an unapologetic stance. Then she gestures over to your trembling figure and the men look to you both. Automatically, the red head holds you slightly closer and looks at them with a cold stare. They speak a little longer and eventually the men walk away.

Billie takes a moment to let out the breath she had been holding and walks over to you, wobbling just a little in her heels. Once she’s close enough, the blonde says, “They aren’t going to press charges.” 

Mina relaxes a little and asks, “What made them decide not to?” By this point, you’ve peeked your head up to look at her and she smirks before replying in a sly voice, “I have my ways.” She gives you a warm smile, but your lip tremors and you rasp, “I’m so sorry for pulling you into this, Billie. I can’t believe I was so stupid—”

She kneels before you and takes one of your hands before soothing, “Don’t say that, sweet girl.” Billie looks to the woman who holds you, making sure she isn’t getting too close, but the woman in purple doesn’t seem bothered. Instead she continues her sentiments, saying, “They were provoking you in the hopes of getting a reaction. If anything, they were stupid for underestimating how you would react.”

Then the medium lets out a small chuckle and says, “You should have seen their faces when you threw the first punch.” Wilhemina smiles too, making you duck your head to hide your grin. Billie brushes her thumb over your knuckles for a moment before releasing your hand and standing up.

The movement causes you to look up and see the blonde watching you both. Then she says, “I want to apologize again about the misunderstanding earlier.” 

Your girlfriend shakes her head and hesitantly replies, “I overreacted before knowing the truth. But I should thank you for speaking with them about not pressing charges.” You look at her with wide eyes, shocked that she would actually admit error on her part to someone she just met.

And Mina surprises you even more when she asks, “Is there any way we could make it up to you?” 

Did Wilhemina Venable just ask that? 

In response, Billie gives a demure smile and casually replies, “Well…we could go out to dinner sometime. I wouldn’t mind the company of two beautiful women.” Then she has the audacity to give the red head a wink, and Mina actually blushes. The woman blushes. This whole ordeal may have a silver lining after all.

Your girlfriend’s reaction makes you giggle and Billie sports a wicked grin as she purrs, “I have y/n’s number so I can let you know when I’m available.” The woman in purple still seems stunned by the medium’s forwardness so you reply, “Oh we will. Thanks again, Billie.” Then she says goodbye and walks away.

Once she’s out of the police station, you chuckle and tease, “She really flustered you, didn’t she?” 

Wilhemina clears her throat and rolls her eyes before replying, “It merely surprised me. That’s all.” You both stand up and begin to walk out to your car. And as you do, you comment, “I guess Billie may not be so bad after all. Maybe we could even get to know her a little better.”

The red head lets out a humorless laugh and replies, “Don’t push your luck, dear.” You both get in the car and begin to drive home. As you do, your phone lights up with a text:

I’m available Friday night if you’re interested in dinner? -Billie

You read her text out loud while Mina drives and she keeps quiet. So you wait a moment before asking, “How should I respond?” The red head taps her fingers on the steering wheel and slowly replies, “Friday works.” 

Her calm demeanor surprises you and you ask, “You’re sure? We don’t have to go out with her if you’re not comfortable.”

Your girlfriend keeps her eyes on the road as she comments, “I’m sure. She seems…interesting. I wouldn’t mind talking to her more.” You smile to yourself and text back,

Friday works. I think you have a captive audience with Mina, which is very rare. 

After a couple minutes, Billie responds, 

I’ll make a reservation. And I’m glad she’s interested. I’m interested in getting to know both of you as well. I look forward to seeing you both again.

You smile at her response and put your phone away, looking forward to getting some sleep and your dinner with Billie Dean Howard.

Tagged:  @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk​, @chokemepaulson​, @versonstar​, @find-me-a-constellation​, @cordwliagoode​, @psychobitchtess​, @midnight-lestrange​, @mysweetdelia​, @venablesbitch​, @peachesandlesbians​

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

[ladylynse]

Chapter 13 [FF | AO3] of Whirlwind (SQ fic): Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny should’ve expected something like this when he got that phone call.

Previous | Timeline post

-|-

7:50 PM

Jake couldn’t see Danny as he winged around to the building where Hawk Moth stood with Susan, but he had a feeling he knew Danny’s plan: namely, get Nino out of danger. Specifically, do that by phasing him out of Susan’s claws. Randy—who was clinging to the edge of the roof and barely showing more than his eyes and fingertips—looked ready to jump into action the moment that happened, and Jake knew he should be, too, but….

This situation wasn’t just his fault.

It was the fault of the World Dragons in general.

If they’d ever found a replacement for the French Dragon or at least done a better job of checking up on France, this might not have happened.

Which meant it was Jake’s responsibility not just to diffuse this particular situation and deal with the fallout but also to, well, see what he could do about Hawk Moth so that he didn’t keep doing this in Paris.

Jake hovered in the air for a moment, knowing he’d been spotted, but despite the telling flick of her eyes, his mother didn’t call any attention to him. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was good or bad; she still recognized him, right? Was she ignoring him on purpose? She had to know he couldn’t let this slide. Between her letting everyone in the city—and, let’s face it, beyond—know that dragons exist and this Hawk Moth guy misusing magical artefacts, there was no way he couldn’t get involved.

Jake took a deep breath, folded his wings, and let fire burn away his scales. He landed on the roof with very human feet, rolling with the impact and rising from a crouch as Hawk Moth turned. Jake gave him a wide berth, ignoring Hawk Moth in favour of his mom. He edged around to keep her in sight, though he knew better than to turn his back on an enemy. “Mom,” he whispered, “don’t do this. Please.”

He saw Hawk Moth’s triumphant smile out of the corner of his eye. “So. This is your son, one of the city’s great protectors.”

Susan said nothing, though she held Jake’s gaze.

“You’re better than this,” Jake said when he noticed Hawk Moth open his mouth again. “You know what I’m fighting for. You know why I fight for it. You have to know this is wrong. Just step back and think about it for a moment, like you always taught me to do. This isn’t you. Please.”

“Dracona,” Hawk Moth said sharply. “Tell me what else I should know about your son.”

What else he should know.

That meant he already knew something.

That she’d already told him something.

How much?

“What? What did you tell him? Why did you tell him anything?”

For a few heartbeats, Jake was sure his mom wasn’t going to answer—him or Hawk Moth. He hoped she was ignoring his questions because they were ridiculous and she’d never tell someone like him anything important, whatever he demanded. He hoped he’d managed to get through to her when it came to Hawk Moth, too. She was still looking at him, and he was familiar enough with reading dragon expressions to see determination settle on her face. It gave him hope—until she opened her mouth and said, “I made a deal. I’ve realized that I have to fulfill it.”

“You don’t!”

“Fighting doesn’t work.” She sounded more resigned than she looked, which was weird, but whatever. “I’ve tried. I can’t.”

Jake wanted to wipe the smug expression off Hawk Moth’s face, but Danny was right. If Randy’s book did mean that he could talk his mom down, he had to try—and if he could do that without giving Hawk Moth any more information about the magical world, dragons included, then all the better. “You can, I swear,” Jake insisted. “You just said you’ve fought it before. You can do it again. And you know what it’s like to try to fight off mind control; G would’ve trained you, I know he would’ve. You can’t give up now, yo. You have to keep trying. You can do this!” She turned back to Hawk Moth, and he called again, “Please! I’m sorry about earlier! I’m sorry about everything. Just don’t do this. You know it’s not right!”

Susan ignored him, instead answering Hawk Moth’s question as if they hadn’t let him have his say at all. “My son is foolish, and he is brave.”

“Mom, just stop, okay?”

“He is young, and he is skilled.”

“Don’t tell him everything. You can’t.” If he didn’t think he’d lose against her in a straight up attack, he’d do it. Nino’s magic suit looked more durable than Randy’s and seemed to protect him from a lot; it should protect him from being crushed underfoot or impaled by a stray claw. Trouble was, Susan was still the bigger dragon, and even if she didn’t have as much practice as Jake when it came to being a dragon and moving around, that inexperience hadn’t shown up so far. Besides, she knew way more theory than he did, and if she didn’t have any trouble applying it….

Attacking her now would just make him more vulnerable.

And attacking Hawk Moth was likely to invite a retaliatory attack from her, and he didn’t particularly want that in either form. Randy was not enough back up for that. So where the heck was Danny?

“He makes mistakes, many of them, but he always tries his best to do what is right.”

Jake shifted on his feet. He hadn’t expected a glowing review, exactly, but he hadn’t thought his mom would put it quite like that. He could guess why Hawk Moth might ask—if he’d identified Jake as a protector of the NYC, if not the magical world, then he knew Jake was here to fight him—but he still didn’t know why Susan had answered.

For that matter, he didn’t know why neither of them had just attacked; he was a lot more vulnerable in this form, and Hawk Moth at least had no idea how quickly he could change…unless his mom had already passed on that bit of information.

A subtle movement caught Jake’s eye, and he tracked it in time to see the tips of Nino’s ears slide downwards and disappear through the roof.

Strangely, Susan said nothing about it, even though Jake knew she must have noticed. He turned to get a better view of Hawk Moth, but he didn’t seem to notice, either. He was still staring at Jake. Maybe this hadn’t been a bad plan, after all, even if Nino had gotten who was a suitable distraction completely wrong.

“He also possesses a greater magic than yours,” Susan said quietly, “because the magic you use is borrowed and not your own.”

Hawk Moth scowled and looked back at her. “My magic will be greater than either of you can imagine once I have the Miraculous I seek. Give me Chat Noir’s.”

“Gonna have a hard time with that,” Randy called, drawing everyone’s attention. He was sitting on the edge of the roof now; Jake hadn’t even noticed him climb up. Maybe he’d still been underestimating Randy’s Ninja skills, despite having ample evidence of exactly how good Randy could be. “I mean, you kinda gotta have something to give it in the first place.”

“What?” roared Hawk Moth. He spun back to Dracona, and Jake had to look twice at the cane in his hand to confirm that, yes, it had hidden a sword, and now Hawk Moth had discarded its sheath. “You let him escape?”

“I brought you his ring, as you asked. It’s hardly my fault you didn’t take it when you had the chance.” She tilted her head towards Jake and added, “I’ve also told you about our local hero. Consider our contract fulfilled.”

“The Miraculous is not in my hands!”

“But I did bring it to you,” she repeated, “and—”

Hawk Moth lunged.

Despite how focused he’d been on Susan, he came at Jake. Jake scrambled back and somehow tripped over his own feet. He handed hard on his bottom and breathed a spout of fire in Hawk Moth’s direction to encourage him to keep his distance, but Jake realized a split second later that that hadn’t been necessary. Jake had a brief glimpse of Randy’s scarf wrapping around Hawk Moth’s torso and forcing him to a stop before one of Susan’s wings spread out between them as protection.

“Get his Miraculous!”

Jake turned as he climbed to his feet and saw Nino already back on the roof, racing towards Hawk Moth. Susan dropped her wing, looking like she was preparing to breath her own fire instead, and Jake saw Hawk Moth snarl and twist back towards Randy. He raised his sword and severed the scarf in one quick swipe.

Randy let out a cry as the fabric fell, and Hawk Moth froze even as he turned his blade on Nino.

That’s where Danny was, then.

“It’s his brooch,” Nino explained as he started unravelling the layers of scarf that covered Hawk Moth’s chest. He had to duck around the sword but didn’t seem overly bothered by the inconvenience; Hawk Moth’s arm had frozen mid-swing, partially blocking his chest, and his sword was still held in a tight grip, judging by how it didn’t even tremble. “If we can get it, then we can stop everything right now, and—” He broke off.

Jake didn’t need to walk closer to see what the problem was—even he was sure the Miraculous wasn’t supposed to be glowing that bright green colour—but he reached Nino only a few steps ahead of Randy. On closer inspection, the situation looked worse, with cracks of bright purple spiderwebbing across the entire brooch that grew wider as Jake watched.

“Um. You probably don’t wanna touch that,” Randy said. “It looks like it’s about to explode. Can those things explode?”

“I didn’t think so,” Nino said, but he sounded as confident as he looked—which, when he was chewing on his lip and staring at the brooch instead of reaching for it, told Jake all he needed to know.

Jake felt a hand on his arm, and he turned back to see the familiar face of his mother. “I don’t know if I’m free of him,” she said quietly. “You need to end this now, before—”

Purple light exploded.

Jake stumbled forward, hearing multiple grunts behind him and more than one body hitting the rooftop.

As he hadn’t been looking directly at the Miraculous, he wasn’t blinded like the others undoubtedly were. Still, he was too stunned to react as Hawk Moth’s sword flashed towards Susan, slicing away her necklace—and into her flesh. He heard her scream. He heard himself scream as he scrambled forward to try to catch her.

There was so much blood.

There shouldn’t be this much blood.

Red smoke clouded his vision, but at that point, it didn’t matter; Jake couldn’t see through his tears anyway.

7:53 PM

McFist thought he had a plan. Rotwood claimed that it was more his plan than McFist’s. Haley just had a budding headache and a growing, panicked worry in her chest that wouldn’t go away without more information.

The plan, as it was, wasn’t very good. It required a lot of luck, which in Haley’s experience tended to go sour; a healthy dose of lies, which sounded terribly unbelievable to her ears; and the remaining supply of Ninja Cold Balls, which McFist had picked out with unnerving accuracy. “How long would a pop-up skating rink even last?” Haley asked, interrupting whatever Rotwood and McFist were arguing about.

“Ninja ice lasts longer than regular ice,” McFist said. “Magic. Figured you knew.”

“Right.”

“So we’ll expand on the patch you started. It’ll still be there. We’ll call it a teaser if anyone asks. People like sneak peeks.”

There was absolutely no way this would work.

“Little bit of fashion, little bit of skating. It’ll sell. People eat this stuff up all the time.”

Rotwood sniffed. “And when people call your bluff, I will tell them the real reason for all of this—don’t look at me like that; I respect the deals I make, so of course I do not mean the real real reason. I will insist it is the work of magical creatures and use the fight of the Ninja and the dragon as my proof.”

“At which point I remind people that the best advertising is the viral kind, and people believe me instead of him. Everyone loves a good show.”

There was no nice way to tell them this wouldn’t work, was there? “I’m not sure—”

“You can even come out and pretend to be a ninja if you like. Really sell it. You any good at skating?”

She was better at the violin. “I don’t even have skates.”

McFist shrugged. “No one else will, either. You ever wear an expensive pair of shoes meant for indoors? Those things have no grip. It’ll be fine.”

It wouldn’t be. Not on its own. Maybe she’d get lucky and think of what else they could do to supplement it once they got going, though. Haley glanced at Rotwood. “You’re really okay with your name being dragged through the mud again for making false claims?”

“I will hardly be the only one reporting on this magical creature sighting. Besides, I can always try to prove the existence of the magical world again later. A visit the Magus Bazaar—or whatever you will do for me instead of that—is worth more than an attempt to get people to see the truth when I know you are already working against me.” Rotwood spread his hands. “Think of it as me hedging my bets. I have more chance of success in the future, when you and your brother are not aware of my actions.”

Haley had no idea how Jake put up with Rotwood in school every day. She sincerely hoped Rotwood would find another job by the time she went to Millard Fillmore, at least if he didn’t change his tune. It was hard to admire his perseverance when she knew how much his success would cost the magical world.

Maybe Jake should just try to sit him down and strike a long-term bargain with him. Rotwood might not be so set on exposing the magical world if he finally understood what that exposure would mean. She doubted he’d be happy to consistently work to protect the magical world, but he might agree to keep silent about it—and keep his personal rivals away from it—in exchange for more information. From what Jake had told her, he was working off a lot more fiction than fact.

Heck, if Randy could come up with something better to offer McFist, he might think twice about working with the Sorcerer, too. She was less certain on that front, of course, but McFist seemed to be in it only for his reward. Dealing with a rogue sorcerer technically fell under the purview of the dragons, too, so Randy would be perfectly within his rights to ask for help. It just seemed to her like there might be a better way to do this, since McFist and Rotwood were acting more reasonable than she’d expected.

And a lot more helpful, too.

It was different with Nino. He didn’t know Hawk Moth’s identity, and from what she’d seen and heard, Hawk Moth wasn’t someone that could be easily talked down. He had an agenda, and he’d see it through no matter who got hurt in the process. That made him someone they needed to take down, not someone they might be able to negotiate with.

But if Jake didn’t defeat him now, he’d have to play politics himself to get help to Nino. It would be a lot easier if he didn’t have to go through the Dragon Council to get permission for something like that, if he and the others could just make some agreement and do it all under the table. Gramps might not wholly approve, but he wouldn’t disapprove, not if Jake was doing the right thing, and Fu would be more than willing to help. She could cover for him if he ever had business elsewhere, with Trixie and Spud for backup if they were still around, and—

“I’ll keep these throwing balls in case they come in handy later,” McFist said as he started to pocket everything that wasn’t a Ninja Cold Ball. “You start making the rink, and Rotwood and I will seed rumours.”

“What if this doesn’t work?” Haley asked. “What if no one believes us? What if they see through it?”

McFist jerked his thumb towards Rotwood. “So you’re saying people might believe him? I was getting the impression that he was a bit of a Cassandra type myself.”

“That’s not the worst comparison you could have made,” Rotwood muttered.

“No, but…. What’s our backup plan?”

“What was your backup plan?”

She bit her lip. “I trusted that I’d come up with something that would work if it came to that.”

McFist snorted. “Yeah, well, my backup plan is the simple fact that if you act like you know what’s going on and you’re good at selling it, people will believe you, even if it’s outrageous. I mean, my company cleans up the messes our own robots make, and we’re commended for it. It’s all about having good PR. I may not be good at inventing things to get the results I want, but I am good at handling the public. You follow through on your end of the deal, and I’ll make sure they don’t turn on you.”

7:54 PM

“Randy said he can help,” Danny said as he pulled Jake away from Susan. “Let him. He’ll help your mom. You and I need to catch that akuma. Nino’s going after Hawk Moth. He grabbed one of Randy’s smoke bombs and escaped. We’re lucky it wasn’t one of those bee balls.”

Jake didn’t respond.

He might not even be listening.

He wasn’t fighting in Danny’s grip anymore, not even when Randy bent over Susan and held his hands over her to do some Ninja thing. Jake was just dead weight, conscious but not home, which was not what Danny needed right now. It wasn’t what any of them needed, Susan included.

Danny formed a handful of ice cubes and dumped them down the back of Jake’s shirt.

The reaction was thankfully immediate, with Jake jerking away from him. “Yo, that is not cool, man!”

“Actually, it’s ice cold, which is why I did it.”

Jake turned to glare at Danny, but his anger was short-lived; Danny could see new tears forming in his eyes. He started to turn back to his mom, but Danny caught his arm. “Hey. We need to deal with the akuma. You’re the American Dragon. This is part of that.”

“I don’t care about the stupid akuma.”

“You will if it multiplies and you’re dealing with a whole lotta people who can turn into dragons. Let’s go.”

“Mom—”

“Randy is helping her,” Danny repeated. “Let him. Help from your friends, remember?”

“That’s not—”

“We need to go before we lose the akuma entirely,” Danny interrupted. He was two seconds away from leaving Jake behind and just going to look for it on its own, even if he didn’t know what he’d do if he caught it, but Jake had better night vision than he did.

Jake took a shuddering breath and ground out, “Fine,” before transforming without another word.

Danny flew up to join him in the air, deciding Jake didn’t care about the other details right now. With any luck, Nino would catch Hawk Moth. That would make dealing with the akuma easier. Maybe. They needed something to go their way for once.

Danny knew better than to ask if Jake had spotted it yet, so he just hovered and waited as Jake looked and listened. When he picked a direction and started flying, Danny followed. He didn’t see anything that look remotely like a butterfly, but he trusted Jake.

After about a minute of flying with no butterfly in sight, he started to question that. They weren’t flying that slowly. The butterfly shouldn’t have been this far in front of them. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Danny ventured. “I mean, I can always scout behind us if you’re not.”

“The last one we saw was flying in this direction,” Jake said. “I think it was going for higher ground.”

“This is a city of skyscrapers. Isn’t everywhere higher ground?”

“You know what I mean.”

He didn’t, but Danny didn’t bother pressing the point. There was a more important question to ask. “What makes you think this one is going to the same place the last one was?”

“I…don’t, really. But it makes sense.”

Danny tried to figure out what he could say to that that wouldn’t sound completely insensitive when he knew Jake was preoccupied with worry about his mom. The truth of it was, it didn’t make sense, at least not to Danny, and he really wasn’t keen on the idea of them not splitting up to look for this thing if Jake wasn’t sure.

“I think it’s like those zombie ants.”

Danny blinked. “What?” He couldn’t have heard that right.

“You know. Those zombie ants. That get infected with that fungus. It, like, takes over their mind and makes them go to higher ground to die and then it spreads. This might be like that.”

“Okay, one, how have I never heard about this before if it’s real, and two, pretty sure the magical butterflies aren’t infected with a fungus.”

“I didn’t say they were! Just that it would make sense with the higher ground thing.”

Danny groaned. “I don’t suppose you know if Spud found that thermos?”

“I’m not even sure if he’s looking for it. He’s doing something that he thinks will help.”

“With what?”

“I dunno. Everything, maybe. I trust him. He and Trix have my back.”

It would be a little hypocritical to argue against the whole ‘trust your friends and let them help you’ bit now, but it was hard. Jake might be clutching at straws because it was better to do that than to think about what he’d left behind. Danny really had no idea what Randy could do, but he’d sounded confident, so Danny hadn’t asked.

Maybe he should’ve; it would’ve made this conversation easier to navigate.

“Look, this akuma is as important as Hawk Moth right now. Pretty sure it won’t go away when he drops the mask, so we need to figure out how to contain it. Would Spud and Trixie know of anything that would help? Are they following a hunch?”

Jake didn’t answer.

Perfect.

Danny followed him in silence, debating the merits of breaking off to check any other direction and then deciding that if Nino wasn’t successful in catching Hawk Moth, it wouldn’t be in their best interest to leave Jake alone in this mood.

“I’m sorry,” Danny said when the silence started to stretch. “I know this sucks. I know you’re worried about your mom, and what the Dragon Council is going to do when they find out about this, and—”

“Two o’clock, maybe thirty degrees up,” Jake interrupted, altering his course.

Danny blinked, and in his moment of hesitation, Jake let out a plume of fire that lit up and then completely engulfed a butterfly.

It didn’t immediately incinerate, like Danny had expected. It bubbled, roiling magic boiling across wings that fluttered frantically to stay aloft. When the flame died, all Danny could see was the afterimage seared green and white into his eyes.

“You wanna catch it?”

“It’s still alive?” Danny asked, looking around as his vision started to go back to normal. “I don’t—” He broke off. The white butterfly wings stood out more clearly against the sky than the purple ones had, and he caught the butterfly in his hands with surprisingly little effort—or maybe it just felt that way after everything else.

It was hard to believe he’d been in Amity Park for lunch.

Of course, coming from Amity Park and having the experiences that he did, he wasn’t about to assume that the colour change of the butterfly (or, frankly, its survival) was a fluke. Chances were good Nino could explain what had happened, but Danny just hoped it was a good thing. If they’d just released the magic and now didn’t have something concrete to chase after, he didn’t know how they were going to gather it all back up. Well, maybe Pandora could tweak her box if he borrowed it, but—

“I was trying to kill it,” Jake admitted as Danny stopped to hover across from him. The butterfly’s wings beat against Danny’s closed fingers, but he couldn’t lead the way back to Nino and (hopefully) answers. He’d already gotten turned around, and he wasn’t sure where they were. “I just…. I dunno. I wanted this problem gone. I should’ve known it wouldn’t work. The last one survived, too.”

“What? Really?” Danny hadn’t thought much about the first butterfly, but in retrospect, he supposed it must’ve survived if Nino was right about Hawk Moth recalling it. Maybe this was the same butterfly? He glanced down at his hands. Maybe Jake had had the same thought. He didn’t typically go for straight up destroying stuff, but if the butterflies were the only way Hawk Moth could release his magic….

“Just don’t let go of it,” Jake said, as if Danny had had any intentions otherwise. He flew back faster than they’d flown out, likely because he wasn’t trying to track a butterfly this time, but Danny easily kept pace.

He didn’t try to force a conversation, though. It was obvious enough Jake still wasn’t in the mood to talk, and Danny’s dismal attempts earlier made it clear that he didn’t know what to say.

Hopefully, by the time they got back to Randy, they’d get some good news for a change.

(see more fics | next)

[camelely]

TFATWS Spoilers under the cut

Literally the following is my thoughts and opinions, and there are probably some unpopular opinions lol. It's kinda really long lol.

Starting with some positives.

I loved how the two leads had storylines that mirrored each other. Sam needed to become Captain America and gain a title and Bucky needed to move on from The Winter Solider and loose a title.

Sam. Just Sam I loved him before but now I love him more.

Sam becoming Cap.

I loved Isaiah and his story.

I loved Sam's family, how they welcomed Bucky and the struggles Sarah had.

I really liked how they spent time with both Sam and Bucky and didn't forget the show was supposed to be about both of them. Often times shows tend to lean into the more popular or fan favorite lead and this show didn't do that. When Sam took center it felt natural and when Bucky took center it felt natural.

The Wakandans were great. I love Ayo and her friendship with Bucky.

Zemo was fine and fun enough.

John Walker was incredibly done. Wyatt Russell did an amazing job and the scene with the blood on the shield will forever be in my memory. Hands down one of the most impactful MCU moments.

I like the genderbend on Karl/Karli and the direction they took her character. People that go from sympathetic ideas to unforgivable means, make good villains. I think her more boring elements come from the lack of development she got.

Now on to the negatives.

This show could have been like two hours shorter and still told the same story with the same impact. Also earlier episodes, (maybe later episodes too I might have just gotten used to it and stopped noticing lol), had some weird ADR moments. IDK what happened behind the scenes but it was noticeable.

I would have loved it if one of the episodes was a flashback episode. The Sharon twist was obvious from the first episode she appeared in but like they thought it was good enough to save confirmation for the mid/end of the finale? Both her and Karli would have been benefited from a flashback episode.

Karli should have fought Bucky while Sam was focused on Walker. Sam could have had a moment where he tells him he will never be forgiven and Walker would responded with something similar to "I do what is right. I don't need forgiveness." Then when he becomes USAgent it lands more like the next progression in an arc rather than the redemption arc this could be interpreted as. I personally think this is a stepping stone and not a redemption but the MCU (and Disney) doesnt have a great track record when it comes to handling anything with nuance and the fans have an even worse track record when handling things that arent black and white. I guess my point is they could have handled the John Walker set up better.

Speaking of set up, this entire show was set up. This is my main and only real problem with this show. Nothing felt like it was resolved at the end. Karli even says she was part of a bigger movement. Killing her didn't change the fact a lot of people felt the un blip ruined their lives. People always shit on Tony for wanting to bring people back five years later instead of going back in time but like it had been five years, while some like Steve and Natasha hadn't moved on, others had. Some had better lives. Assuming everyone wanted to back to the way things used to be would also be a mistake. This has consequences too, as we see in these shows. But ruining the lives of the people who had bettered themselves would have been shitty too. And yea some people who had been bettered were worsened once again when the un blip happened but my point is going back and erasing the five years would have been shitty too. There is not really a right answer here as the right answer would have been to either stop the snap before it happened or to come to terms with the fact that the snap can never be undone. Leaving everyone as dead might have hurt, but it was the best thing for a community that had five years of mourning and moving on and counseling ETC. Ooof that was a tangent lol and I could probably write an essay so going back to my original point about set up. The flag smashers, or at least people who think the way they did still exist, Sharon Carter is the powerbroker but Sam and Bucky dont know and now shes back as agent 13, John Walker went from war hero to committing war crimes and his journey as USAgent is just starting, Sam has taken the Cap mantle and is ready to begin acting as Cap, and Bucky is both coming to terms with and moving on from his past. Nothing is actually resolved in this mini series. I know it's supposed to make you excited for the next movie/show/season whatever but have six episodes of little to no payoff IMO made for a flat show.

Building off the set up problem. This show had too much going on. Sam and Bucky each had their own personal journey (The A and B plot depending on the episode), Sam and Bucky being friends and their shared journey (C), John Walker and the Flag Smashers (the D and E plot depending on the episode), Zemo and the Wakandans (F), The PowerBroker/Sharon (G), The boat and Sarah which could be considered part of Sam's plot but since if you cut it out the only thing that actually effected Sam's journey would be the bank in the first episode and yet it still went on till basically the end I'm calling it it's own plot (H), Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, which might be part of John Walker's story but since it's all set up for her to take a bigger role in the future and his set up could be completed without her I'm counts her separately (I), then you have the big meeting at the end, the senators and policy makers making choices the vote that they keep mentioning and once again more set up... (J). 10 ideas by my count, all needed their own set up, follow through, and payoff. And yes some stuff like Valentina the pay off will come later but still... It's all too many plots! And thats not mentioning side characters that were new to the show that they wanted to spend time with but couldn't.

Even though I think the shows aren't comparable/two different genres WandaVision had two more episodes (and yes some were shorter but I already mentioned I think FATWS could have benefited from that), completed all the main plots and had Wanda's journey (A), Vision's journey (B), Agatha, Pietro/Ralph, and the citizens of the hex (C), Outside the hex Monica (D), Outside the hex everyone else and sure you can separate Darcy, Jimmy and Heyward but none of them were setting up future stories or had their own distinctive plot outside the hex thing like Monica so she is the only one I am separating (E), the kids who could be counted as an extension of the Wanda and Vision plots since they didnt really have their own arc or story (F). 6 total. And some of those could be combined. Like I think we should separate Wanda Vision and the kids but technically they are just an extension of Wanda. And same with Monica, her story was mostly intertwined with Darcy, Jimmy and the outside the hex stuff. I separated her since I think she had enough moments to herself and she set up secret invasion or whatever, but like Valentina being a part of John's story it is arguable. Of these plots only the missing witness Jimmy thing, Wanda's post credits moment a moment seperate from everything else, Monica's mid credits i think? moment another one separate from everything else, and white vision were unresolved. They gave Agatha an opening ending but it was still an ending. And yes Darcy Heyward etc will probably come back but the plot they had here was finished. So arguably they had 2/6 unfinished plots. And if you don't count Jimmy's witness as a plot and just count it as an unanswered question then 1/6. And technically white vision is just half a vision and the other vision got a complete plot so really it's 0.5/6 At best they completed 92(ish)% of the plots and left 8 (ish) % for future stuff.

In contrast FATWS only finished Sam's journey into becoming Cap, Zemo and the Wakandans, and arguably Sam and Bucky's friendship. You might be able to argue that Bucky had a full circle moment with the guy whose son he killed, but that is one guy and Bucky has been carrying around a list of people like that guy. It's not the end of a story it is the start of a journey. And maybe it is possible to say the boat thing had an ending kinda. 2/10 completed. maybe 3/10 if you wanna push it 5/10. IMO at best they completed 50% of plot set up.

Clearly FATWS is meant to be this way and thats why it bothered me. They want you to watch Cap 4 or whatever they decide to call the theatrical movie that will come after this. I guess I was just expecting it to stand on it's own, and other than Sam's journey into becoming Captain America, which was amazing and deserved in every way, nothing this show did felt like it could have stood on its own. I know it's arguable that was the main story and only story that deserved to end. But I've already pointed out all the other running plots this show had, and I think at least two or three of them should have had follow through in the show.

Someone who plans to never seen an MCU movie after these shows could have watched WandaVision and enjoyed it. That is not the case for FATWS. If you don't plan on watching any MCU stuff in the future you won't know how over half the plots of this show will end. THis isn't even how the movies work. They each tell their own story while also setting up other things, so it is clear they know how to do this.

I can see why Disney decided to submit it as a series and not a mini series. Not only do they not want to compete with themselves (nominating WV as a miniseries) but also this isn't a miniseries.

I guess to conclude I'll say I did really enjoy watching this show. It was fun and there were some great moments. It featured amazing character and amazing actors, but I wish it had bothered to finish more of what it started.

Thank you so much for reading till the end of a post that has surely become unintelligible gloop by now. If you disagree I'd love to hear why!