#you can say rose is joking… they can claim that’s the case but having searched their blog a few times they’re very clear on their

[wqxian]

Firstly stating, I’m black & genderfluid. Anyone turning this situation to it being people hating black people for DISAGREEING with the things that Rose has said are fucking weird and I hate people like you. Why make everything about hating black people because you don’t like what a black person has said? You’re downplaying this important discussion by making it about “us attacking a small black trans artist” which is odd as fuck. We’re not entitled to be disrespectful, transphobic or sexist just for being black and/or trans. AND if you’re personally not apart of the communities discussed in this IMPORTANT situation, stay the fuck out of it, you have no right to speak on anything. Speak your truth on the parts you’re apart of and leave the rest to voices apart of the communities that were affected by the things said by Rose.

Moving on…

It’s kinda sad seeing you talk poorly about yourself in the beginning of that. Anyone can be understanding to that, that doesn’t mean we should use harsh words towards you because of that. Yeah, being upset about not having more body typed LIs in a game is fair but it’s not like it’s a new thing and you did what you felt you could at the time being why the fuck should we berate you for it when you’re expanding now? Reaching people farther and wider…?

“Fed up” is such a weird thing to say as well, it’s honestly concerning and makes this whole thing even more ridiculous to me. Rose’s job as a sensitivity reader is to be more mindful and point out things in a responsible, respectful manner. In the end, this isn’t THEIR game. You seem to be an open-minded person so I see no reason why they need to disrespect you in the way they do—whether you deny it and slide it off as a joke or not. You may not mind it but seeing that can be really jarring, plus reading the things on their BLOG before even being hired? About the game, about you, about male MCs now, about Terry, about Baxter, it’s all very fucking weird. My tags say it all but yeah.

Disagreeing on Terry’s design is absolutely fair, everyone is entitled to their own opinion. The design could have been better but it doesn’t stray from realism of how transmen wear clothes & how their body types are. They don’t owe you masculinity, to wear xyz to look MASCULINE to you. Especially opinions being stated by someone who isn’t a transgender man. Again, referring to my own identity I won’t speak much on Terry because that discussion is meant to be between transmen only.

Whole thing is disappointing, was hoping better after finding this out but the lackluster apology and response was just absolutely insane to read. If you… forgive Rose’s behavior and expect us to do the same, can’t so much as you’re the dev but this community feels a whole lot less safer and less comfortable. I’ll be keeping my distance in the meanwhile.

EDIT: Rereading the screenshots too, they’re literally giving you a bad look. (Rose and Uri for saying YOU picked them even though they’re the ones starting discourse). Really think you need to step back and think about this throughly.

GB Patch Games: Response About Sensitivity Reader

[Some of you might not have heard of this happening, but I wanted to address it across the board]

Hey everyone,

I want to make a post about the screenshots of comments from one of our sensitivity readers. The situation is that neither me or Rose want people to feel uncomfortable with Our Life: Now & Forever, but Rose hasn’t done anything terribly wrong and isn’t going to be punished.

The comment about OL MCs wasn’t meant to be genuine hatred towards all male players/MCs of OL. Rose wrote a reply about it-

"Hi everyone! This is Rose, I want to address the male MC comment since it was taken wildly out of context and without the lengthy discussion that was after it. I don't hate male MCs, in fact far from it, male MCs are integral to the story in OL:NF as female and trans MCs are. I think the relationship they could potentially have with Qiu could be a great asset in my opinion as they figure out their gender alongside the MC. The discussion itself was about how I noticed players were sticking to heteronormative norms by shipping Tamarack with a man purely out of societal norms than it was genuine thought into the characters and how I personally wished there was more sapphic relationships with Tamarack or just Tamarack with trans characters as a sapphic trans person myself. I didn't mean to offend anyone by it as no one but my friends who understood what I legitimately meant behind my message and it definitely wasn't meant to be seen seriously. I am sorry regardless to anyone I have offended and I love your male MCs regardless."

And most of the comments were about me. I’ve seen screenshots of the full conversations and they’re not as harsh as the cropped snippets made them out to be. It was longer discussions about not including Derek in any base game Moments for no good reason and not having any plus-sized love interests in OL1 because I was afraid players wouldn’t accept it. That’s not a lie, it’s what I decided for the game I created, and it is ridiculous of me. I’m the one who should be feeling embarrassed over how OL1 will forever be that way, not the people who remember that I did that. I’m not perfect and Rose actually cares more about the players than making me feel like I am flawless.

I also don’t want to tone police an employee venting about their boss in private, on their own time. Both the OL games deal with personal, important topics. This is sensitive work, and it can bring up frustrations. Sometimes people do use harsh words among friends, but they wouldn’t ever say it to a person seriously and directly.

I understand if you wouldn’t want to see anyone speak badly of a dev you like, but I promise it’s not a point of contention between me and Rose. I don’t feel mistreated in anyway. Rose genuinely cares about the Our Life series, and that’s why they get fed up with me over certain parts of the game.

Rose has never been unkind or unreasonable to me when working on the project, and their advice is detailed and well-explained. They do care about the game and want it to avoid having content that upsets people because of my own ignorance/shortcomings.

This being shared publicly from a private server is targeting Rose and seems to be a continuation of things that have happened before this. I don’t want this to continue happening. If you do still have concerns over the one comment about the community, you can let me know. But again, I don’t want people being mistrustful of Rose on my behalf for comments about me in conversations with missing context.

Do not send angry messages to Rose about any of this. We’ll do our best so that OL2 will be better than I was before. Thank you to everyone who reads this and participates in the community!

[jellofish4000]

Women and Unforgiven

01/11/23

I’ve made the conscious decision to kick this year off with a bang. New Years resolutions have never really been a thing that I partake in but it seems as though I’ve run into some problems I’d like to solve in my life. Problems as a source of inspiration. Always the best type of inspiration. The most effective. One problem led to another: Now I am making my first attempt at reading the ginormanimasous entity of a novel titled Infinite Jest. I am enjoying it tremendously so far. I have not yet experienced the notorious pang of fatigue I have been warned of or the rip-the-book-in-half-throw-it-against-the-wall jolt of frustration, although if I get a little more into it I may very well cross into the rip-the-book-into-various-sections-and-rearrange-it territory I have been advised on. As much as my interest in this novel may pique at a fairly high point within my extensive library of special interests, I can’t see my Obsessive Compulsive Fan disorder ever straying me down the path of book vandalism. My OCF can and has guided me into the murky waters of low quality, disseminated and redisseminated  David Foster Wallace interviews. Obviously you surf the web, but at some point you gotta abandon your surfboard for a boat, a boat for a submarine, a submarine for scuba gear and eventually just take that dive all by yourself until page 30 out of 435 can be seen on the Google search engine horizon. A perpetual trek onwards. Today I find myself at the halfway mark of Wallace’s 1997 interview with Charlie Rose, the part where they bring up the 1992 film Unforgiven. The two men sing their praises for the movie for a minute before moving on, but in that one minute, Wallace mentioned something that offended me. I am offended. 

No, I am not offended. I am joking. But his comment was interesting. Wallace claimed in the interview that all the women he mentioned or showed Unforgiven to did not like it. As a woman, one who did enjoy Unforgiven, I want to formally assert that I am simply not like other women. 

No, I am very much like all other women. I am joking. But I do want to respond to Wallace, because there’s more science to his statement. I’d like to think he contemplated why all the women he surveyed did not like Unforgiven. 

David, if I may, or I can say Mr. Foster Wallace if you’d prefer, I want to explain, on behalf of all women, as the leading ambassador of all women across all space and time, why we do not all collectively like Unforgiven. Some of us do. But regardless of whether we like or do not like Unforgiven, I present my 2023 self before your 1997 presence on Charlie Rose’s talk show to assure you that we all have some same basic level of criticism for Unforgiven. 

As a woman, Unforgiven is entirely unrelatable. The film grapples with some larger, overarching concepts of addiction, particularly to alcohol and violence, and of course, it introduces probably one of the first narratives of the female sex worker as a thought-having, politically active, independent human being in a Western as opposed to the Stagecoach-esque damsel in distress prostitute typical of the genre. That is not the divisive part. What makes this film so divisive among the sexes is its one defining quality: Violence. Sure, this can be said of any high action, high budget, easily digestible box office picture, but a clearer argument can be made in the case of Unforgiven. Over the course of a few weeks last semester, I spent a considerable amount of time with this movie. Mr. Foster Wallace, if you would’ve cornered me outside of my Introductory Film Studies class after just having spent 2 hours and 11 minutes in a dark room full of various university students doodling on their notebooks, fast asleep in their barely-comfortable chairs, drinking water every two minutes just to keep themselves awake, and regretting taking the Film Studies course because they were coming to the slow realization that they had to watch something other than the easily digestible box office picture every other day, my response would have blended in perfectly with all the other women you had asked previously. I did not like Clint Eastwood’s Unforgiven. But later that semester I was assigned a paper on that very film, effectively being forced into a stuffy closet with it until I came back out with various metaphorical hickies on my neck and 2000 words on all the ways it only provided an echo chamber for American hyper-individualistic ideology. 

Mr. Foster Wallace, Unforgiven is so male. You and Mr. Charlie Rose were bound to like it. Having watched and watched and then rewatched, I grew to appreciate the film. I grew to understand how revolutionary it was in the realm of the American Western picture, I even grew to enjoy it. But what I gathered most of all from my dissection of this film was that it was never meant for me. For a woman, I mean. Out of the many things I am, I think my sex is a defining quality. It affects every aspect of my life, including how I, as a tried and true cinephile, consume media. I am generally forgiving (and occasionally funny). Generally very open to the stretching of the truth and the cutting of corners. But this movie is quite stiff and rigid, like an ancient block of cheese. Clint Eastwood, an icon of machismo in U.S. entertainment, is our main character, and although he tries his hand at some revisionism, it falls flat. We are introduced to Munny as a changed man, one with two small children and a pig farm and a humble little home and a deceased wife that forever altered his world view. He’s asked to carry out a hit on behalf of an unfairly abused prostitute and agrees to do so. After holding down the fast forward button for a good two minutes and watching all the little frames go by on the Netflix application, we get to the end where he single handedly massacres a room full of men in a bar, downs a couple shots of whisky, threatens a reporter’s life, swears that he’s not afraid of doing it again, before riding off into the night with an American flag splayed in the shot behind him. Eastwood’s character breaks every promise he had made to his dead wife: He defies every word he said in the beginning of the film about “change” and “better person”. To top it all off, every man in the movie is just as bad as him: If not worse. As a female viewer, a carrot is dangled in front of us in the beginning of Unforgiven. We are enticed with the prospect of a good man, one that has allowed the better forces in his life to infiltrate his soul and give his existence a new meaning outside of senseless violence. By the end, it is clear that we were lured into a trap. The prospect is the kicker here. It is the most redeeming quality of this film and it is yanked from underneath our feet. I am not holding the film in contempt or demanding an end to violence in all movies ever, I am simply speaking for all women when I say: We are tired. As the half of the population that suffers from insurmountable amounts of physical abuse at the hands of the other half: We are tired. We are tired and weary of the prospect. The prospect of non-violence. The prospect of a man that respects us. The prospect of a truly changed man. Getting to the end of Unforgiven is another failed prospect. Same old. Exhausting. 

There are wonderful films out there that partake in copious amounts of violence. The 1993 revisionist Western, Tombstone, for example, is chalked full of ridiculously glorious shoot outs in true Western fashion. But, again speaking on behalf of all women because I am the ambassador of all women everywhere, it is a marginally more enjoyable movie. What makes it much better in some ways is not the absence of violence, but rather a presence of vulnerability. Tombstone gives way to a story we women want to hear. One of true change and eventual peace and prosperity amongst men. Tombstone shows the emotion of man, at first being channeled through the shoot outs and the use of violence, but later on, after the men have realized all the suffering they’ve caused, channeled into a productive and intimate resolution of peace. The small gay love story between a cowboy and a showman rings loudly in the background. The final tender moments between Val Kilmer and Kurt Russell’s characters make room for macho manly men to let down their guards and express love for one another after a long period of hate. The small shot of a wagon full of women passing by with bold “Equal Pay for Equal Work” signs raised above their heads. Johnny Ringo and Doc Holliday’s verbal face offs before finally succumbing to their weapons: Their quirky dynamic subtly emphasizing the idea of violence as a final resort. And in the end, Kurt Russell leaves town not with the prospect of returning to wreak havoc again, but rather with the reality that violence was never the answer in the first place.  Mr. Foster Wallace, the Western can be a wonderful thing. It can be truly revolutionized. Whereas Unforgiven had and still has a grip on the critics and film analysts for its “revolutionary” ways, I want to bring up the question of who is it serving? When men like you ask women like me if we liked Unforgiven and all of us say ‘no’, I think it is fascinating and it deserves to be looked into. It’s not “because it’s a Western (Which it’s not)” as you told Charlie Rose or because we can’t see its value and intentions. Of course its intentions are clear. It has always been abundantly apparent that Unforgiven was a rarity in Western cinema when it came out. But Mr. Foster Wallace, if you were a woman that had seen that tired story play out a thousand times in the world around you, would you “like the film?”

[tomakeitbeautifultolive]

Something I've been wondering about: If Jon comes back as a fire wight like Beric Dondarrion and unCat, will he be able to get it up? Blood won't really be flowing in his body anymore, so would his dick be powered by fire magic or something like that?

I, too, have spent a great deal of time pondering Jon Snow’s dick, Anon. 😏 Jokes aside, I will admit right off the bat that most of what I have to offer is total speculation, but over-thinking the most minor details of ASOIAF happens to be my favorite pastime, so let’s go!

Like pretty much everyone who read the quote, I was totally thrown off by the “fire wight” revelation. Here’s the quote for reference:

“..poor Beric Dondarrion, who was set up as the foreshadowing of all this, every time he’s a little less Beric. His memories are fading, he’s got all these scars, he’s becoming more and more physically hideous, because he’s not a living human being anymore. His heart isn’t beating, his blood isn’t flowing in his veins, he’s a wight, but a wight animated by fire instead of by ice.”

So, an important distinction to make here is that this quote is about Beric Dondarrion specifically, not Jon Snow.

The condition of Jon Snow’s corpse might matter

George can be very clever with how he words things. Note that he goes into Beric’s deaths, describing multiple resurrections and how he’s falling apart before stating that his heart is no longer beating. It could be that a fresh “fire wight” might still possess bodily functions—at least at first. Catelyn, too, was a very sorry looking corpse by the time she was reanimated, therefore not a great comparison, either. Especially since it’s Beric rather than Thoros who, with very little life force to lend, resurrects her.

If nothing else, Jon will be “fresh”, and his location at the Wall means the low temperatures will help preserve his body even if the resurrection takes some time. 

And speaking of the Wall… there happens to be a special lady there who could help Jon, and whose powers happen to be amplified by the magic of the Wall...

Melisandre is profoundly more powerful than Thoros of Myr

Thoros may be a red priest, but otherwise he seems to be a pretty normal human man. We get a clue about when he converted from Jaime:

“Jaime had once heard Thoros tell the king that he became a red priest because the robes hid the winestains so well.”

Relatively recently, one might guess, as most children aren’t yet drunks. Further, he was never very dedicated to his faith, even questioning it at times.

Melisandre, on the other hand...

“Melisandre had practiced her art for years beyond count, and she had paid the price. There was no one, even in her order, who had her skill at seeing the secrets half-revealed and half-concealed within the sacred flames.”

While we don’t know much about her, this confirms that she spent countless years studying her craft, and no one in her order can match her skill. And no one believes in their faith more than Melisandre. Like in the television series, it’s a safe bet that she’s actually much older than the natural human lifespan, particularly if she managed to lose count of how many years she’s studied magic.

If Melisandre is the one to resurrect Jon Snow, she might not use a ‘last kiss’ method at all, or, if she does, it could be more powerful than anything Thoros is capable of.

Unlike Beric, Jon Snow is probably the prophesied prince

Speaking of Melisandre’s ability to glimpse secrets in the flames… there’s someone she sure seems to see a lot of:

“I pray for a glimpse of Azor Ahai, and R'hllor shows me only Snow.”

“Skulls. A thousand skulls, and the bastard boy again. Jon Snow.”

“The flames crackled softly, and in their crackling she heard the whispered name Jon Snow. His long face floated before her, limned in tongues of red and orange.”

I know. There is some contention about who the Prince that was Promised is. Regardless of whether you agree that it’s Jon Snow, you’ve got to admit that Melisandre is seeing him in the flames for a reason. And if he’s not the prophesied prince, then perhaps his blood has something to do with it. It’s likely that, for some reason, the combination of Targaryen and Stark blood matters. At least, Rhaegar Targaryen seemed pretty convinced...

Whatever Jon Snow’s business is in Westeros… it’s unfinished. And part of that unfinished business might just involve becoming a father.

The emphasis put on Jon fathering a child is notable

Let’s go back to Jon’s first chapter ever. It opens with Jon at Robert’s feast, the author uses Jon’s eyes to describe the setting and multiple characters. And then enters Benjen Stark. This is when we really get to know Jon. When you read this passage, really consider the author’s intent here:

"You don't know what you're asking, Jon. The Night's Watch is a sworn brotherhood. We have no families. None of us will ever father sons. Our wife is duty. Our mistress is honor."

"A bastard can have honor too," Jon said. "I am ready to swear your oath."

"You are a boy of fourteen," Benjen said. "Not a man, not yet. Until you have known a woman, you cannot understand what you would be giving up."

"I don't care about that!" Jon said hotly.

"You might, if you knew what it meant," Benjen said. "If you knew what the oath would cost you, you might be less eager to pay the price, son."

Jon felt anger rise inside him. "I'm not your son!"

Benjen Stark stood up. "More's the pity." He put a hand on Jon's shoulder. "Come back to me after you've fathered a few bastards of your own, and we'll see how you feel."

Jon trembled. "I will never father a bastard," he said carefully. "Never!" He spat it out like venom.

Suddenly he realized that the table had fallen silent, and they were all looking at him. He felt the tears begin to well behind his eyes.

This is how George R.R. Martin chooses to introduce us to Jon Snow. And gods, that always hits me right in the gut. It’s absolutely supposed to. Jon’s trembling, venomous anger is palpable. You feel the deep hurt and resentment in his words, right down to his core. Jon says he doesn’t care—but the bite in his words and the tears welling in his eyes tell us otherwise.

Jon Snow easily embraces his vow of celibacy. At first. And then comes Ygritte. And after getting his first taste of love and later flirting with the idea of becoming a lord when it’s offered to him by Stannis, Jon Snow begins to imagine what it might be like to have a wife...

“I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall.”

And look what happens the moment he does dare to dream of it...

“I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister's son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly's boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We'd find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance's son and Craster's would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade.”

And the feeling transitions into an almost tangible hunger felt by his wolf, Ghost.

Speaking of Ghost…

Grab your tinfoil! ‘Cause Jon’s life might’ve already been ‘paid for’ ...By Daenerys

First… in case you didn’t know, Daenerys is probably a skinchanger:

“The slightest pressure with her legs, the lightest touch on the reins, and the filly responded. As she turned to ride back, a firepit loomed ahead, directly in her path. A daring she had never known filled Daenerys then, and she gave the filly her head.”

Basically, it goes like this:

As Daenerys wanders the Dothraki Sea in search of food after being whisked away by Drogon, she hears a wolf’s howl.

“Will (Ghost) howl for me when I'm dead, as Bran's wolf howled when he fell?”

Feeling lonely yet no less hungry, she eats some strange green berries. Her stomach begins to cramp.

“My flesh will feed the wolves and carrion crows, she thought sadly, and worms will burrow through my womb.”

Unfortunately, Daenerys then experiences some horrible diarrhea. Poor girl! I don’t bring it up to be crass, but because this purge bears striking resemblance to an earthly drug called Ayahuasca—a substance that, aside from emptying your bowels, is often used as a means to ‘open your third eye’ (Just as Bran does in the crypts, and he can finally reach Jon and Ghost…)

Dany falls asleep and begins experiencing trippy dreams about her brother—perhaps even achieving contact with the other side? Then...

“When she woke, gasping, her thighs were slick with blood.”

Assuming it’s nothing more than her period, Dany begins to wonder the last time she bled—hinting that it might’ve been a little while.

“The sight of so much red frightened her. Moon blood, it's only my moon blood, but she did not remember ever having such a heavy flow.”

Maybe a bit of a stretch, I know. But… this wretched and graphic scene of Dany’s loose bowels really made me wonder what in seven hells George was thinking. I was so embarrassed for Dany that I HAD to figure out why he’d do this to her.

And my best guess is that she’s using these latent skinchanging abilities to tap into this strange connection with the “blue rose” over at the Wall of Westeros and the silent wolf who finally howled for help upon his death… And so, Dany’s miscarriage may be the death that will pay for Jon’s life.

I might’ve found some more evidence to back this claim up, this is very new ‘evidence’, so bear with me:

“Fire”, in the world of ASOIAF, often translates to “life”. As is seen here in Sam’s speech following Aemon’s death (thanks, bridge4!):

“He was the blood of the dragon, but now his fire has gone out.”

Further, according to the wiki:

“When a follower of the Lord of Light dies, priests fill their mouths with fire and breathe flame into the deceased”

In the House of the Undying, Dany receives a series of chilling prophecies, one of which happens to be about fires:

“Three fires you must light, one for life, one for death and one to love”

I know, I know. Drogo’s pyre, the Khals, etc etc. But George might be playing with double meanings here… So, if we think of fires as conceptions, this could maybe mean:

One in exchange FOR the Dragon’s lives (Life)

One in exchange FOR Jon’s resurrection (Death)

One conceived (likely with Jon) and carried to term (TO love)

Food for thought! Especially considering that, like Jon, Dany possesses the blood of Old Valyria, and these sacrifices are probably all the more powerful as a result. But even if I’m dead wrong about that prophecy, well, fire still broadly means life, which bodes well for our brooding ‘bastard’, who might just end up as a “fire wight”.

Hopefully something in this drivel has given any Jon fans reading this a little bit of faith that, despite the slight setback of death, Jon will still be able to exercise his, uh, virility when he finally meets Dany. 😅 Thanks for the ask!!

[misterewrites]

Cheers from Newton Haven ( Mirror’s Edge)

Hey everyone E here with a surprising amount original works. haha so you can blame my good friend @hains-mae for this because she enabled me. So long story short I love writing. I love creating ideas, story plots, characters all that jazz. Often there's a lot of leftovers that i put away in word document just so I have stuff to work with or ideas i can use later. Most of the time I might write something just to get it out of my system but it usually just ends up gathering dust in my computer.

I've been getting more into modern urban fantasy stories and watching the unsleeping city which is a modern dnd show (highly recommend it. first season's free on youtube over at the dimension 20 channel) and naturally I wanted to write some so here we go.

I don't know how often I'll be writing this because this accidentally became my side project whenever I need a break from the underground but who knows might turn into another big layered project.

so basic summary is there are a group of friends, associates, reluctant allies, organizations and frenemies who work together to keep the peace of the supernatural world in check and to ensure it remains secret to everyone else while living their lives as best as they can. Today's chapter includes Finnrick Drift a private investigator wizard and his best friend Casey Remington, cleric of the hearth

that's it for me. have a great week! stay safe, take care of each other. wear your mask, wash your hands, get the vaccine if you can and I'll see you soon!

and if you wanna an easier place to read and leave me some good old comments or reviews you find the chapter right here https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

Not gonna lie i promised I’d try to promote myself more and it’s weird. it feels so weird. haha 

It was a busy Friday afternoon in Midtown. People in designer named suits and dresses bustled across the sidewalks in all directions, too caught up in last minute phone calls or sudden late night work orders to notice anything else. The buildings that scraped the bottom of the sky were clean with a fresh coat of paint and maintenance, a testimony to the wealth and power that was found here.

So naturally Casey felt as out of place as fish out of water in his purple baseball jersey and black shorts just standing outside some fancy restaurants doors with his friend.

“Finny” Casey started awkwardly, his sea green eyes darting back and forth awkwardly “Any reason we’re out here being creepy? I got a Neighborhood Watch meeting at like 6.”

Finnrick or Finny as Casey referred to him, was no better dress than he was for the environment. A long black trench coat that was more stitching than fabric, a matching frayed faded fedora sitting comfortably on his head. He wore a nice collared dark red shirt tucked in a black vest but even that felt cheap and tacky compared to the thousands of dollars worth of clothing that passed them on the street every second. At least his black dress pants were dark enough to hide the patch up jobs and naturally the only kept squeaky clean were his loafers.

Finnrick sucked on the thin white stick for a moment before speaking up “I’m debating if it’s worth the trouble. I didn’t realize you had a meeting tonight.”

“Well we always meet up on the fifth. You know talking about treaties, clean up jobs, if any undead hordes have been spotted. My birthday cake.”

“Ah shit” Finnrick rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his dark brown eyes apologetic “It’s your birthday? Did you want to go? I think I can handle it alone.”

Casey lifted the hat off Finnrick’s head and playfully ruffled his already messy black hair “You getting old Finny. My birthday is the tenth.”

Finnrick waved off his assault “I’m six months younger than you.”

“But” Casey gestured to the smattering of sliver streaks in Finn’s hair “You look older.”

“At least I don’t look like I’m 15. Dude you need a haircut. Everyone here thinks you’re a hippie.”

“A good looking hippie.” Casey gave a dramatic shake, his wavy dark brown hair flowing in the breeze.

The pair burst out laughing, doubling over trying to catch their breath as the business suits eyed them distastefully.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.” Finnrick made his way over, smiles and charm as they approached the doorman.

“Your cigarette sir.” The doorman spoke dully.

Finnrick pulled out the now finished lollipop “Don’t smoke but done anyway.”

The doorman gestured to the nearby trashcan but Finnrick opt to tuck it away in coat pocket. Disgusted but professional, the doorman gave strained smile as he allowed them entry into the building.

Casey nudged Finnrick curiously “Wizards? Warlocks? God not druids.”

“Probably. This is guy doesn’t have an ounce of magic in him but I wouldn’t doubt he’s got some casters on the payroll. Try not to leave anything behind.”

“I’m a freaking walking carpet here!”

“That” Finnrick grinned playfully “Is why you need haircut.”

Casey gave a fake snarl “Shut up and call the elevator.”

Finnrick whistled, amused by the near silence of the opening doors “Such fance. Barely a sound.”

“So what’s the plan?”

Finnrick scratched the little bush of hair he had on his chin thoughtfully “Ask some questions. Probably get no answers. Be threatened more than likely.

Casey cracked the tension in his neck “Think it’s gonna get ugly?”

“Depends on how many witnesses.”

The two made their way to the seventh floor, the elevator smoothly slowing to a stop before the doors opened with a ding. Two burly men in suits were waiting, flanked on either side as they gestured to an empty restaurant dining room.

“The boss will like to speak to you.”

Finnrick and Casey shared a look.

“Sure!” Finnrick beamed cheerfully, patting both the brutes arms as he passed “I was hoping to talk to him anyway.”

The men growled in annoyance but did nothing as Casey and Finnrick made their way to the center talk, unsurprised to find two glasses of wine waiting for them.

“After you” Finnrick joked, pulling out Casey’s chair for him.

Casey gave a mocking smile “Such a gentleman.”

“Only one I bet” Finnrick whispered before taking his seat.

Casey could hear the low hissing of whatever spells were on their chairs being dispelled.

Yep there was going to be trouble.

Casey eyed the room carefully in search for options: The room itself was pretty dark, dark reddish walls with dim lights to set the mood. Most of the tables had been left alone for whatever event this room was scheduled for later with the chairs stacked in the corner. A few feet to their left was the bar, unmanned but well stocked and a window to the outside nearby.

“Well, well, well!” A voice called out from some shadowy part of the room “Who do I have the pleasure of meeting this fine Friday afternoon?”

Finnrick rose to his feet, politely motioning to himself and Casey “My name is Fredrick and this is my friend Charles.”

The man’s hazel eyes shone with suspicion “No last names?”

“Of course” Finnrick grin “But there’s no need for friends, right? We are friends Robert?”

Robert paused, a barely contained rage shimmering just under the surface. His slicked back graying hair and tailored perfect dark blue suit were signs of a precise, irrational control. This was a man that was never told what to do and considered himself above everyone and anyone.

“Of course.” He answered a moment too late. He was not happy. “Of course. What are polite manners among friends?”

“Thanks Bobby!” Finnrick gave a friendly wink before retaking his seat.

Robert fumed but followed Finnrick’s example as a trio of secret service wannabes took their spots across the room: Inhumanly beautiful men with dark suits and shades. Something was off about them but Casey couldn’t put his finger on it.

“What do I owe the pleasure Freddy?” Robert sneered, hoping to see how Finnrick a taste of his own medicine.

“Well Bobby.” Finnrick went on, purposely ignoring the older man’s jab “As you know you have been stealing countless money from your employees.”

Robert chuckled darkly “I am afraid wherever you have been getting this claim is very misinformed. I am a simple, honest businessman.”

Finnrick nodded in agreement “Of course. Of course. That’s how you can say that with a straight face. Honest businessman of mundane practices.”

Casey felt his hair on his arm stand on end as the atmosphere in the room tensed. The brutes growled unhappily, the trio of bodyguards shifted uneasily and Robert’s eyes shone with understanding.

“I see.” He spoke simply “You’re from the other side.”

“Naturally.” Finnrick confirmed “No need to peer around the bush, is there?”

“No need at all. It is refreshing for such transparency. You don’t get that often in the world of business.”

“I doubt you give much either Mister Walker.”

“Enough games. What are you doing here? Some kind of union rep for magical freaks? Blackmailing me?”

Finnrick sat up with pride “Private investigator. Building a case against you actually.”

Robert carefully studied both men before him, trying to piece together their plan, their angle.

“Either.” He spoke after a few moments “You have all you need or more than likely you have nothing and you are simply here to smoke me out, hoping I will give you something to use against me.”

Casey felt Finnrick’s hand move underneath the table and a rush of chilly air brushed his leg.

Casey gave a quick nod to let Finn know he understood.

Finnrick cleared his throat “You’re aware of the works of Tolkien Mister Walker?”

Robert was caught off guard “What?”

“Elves.” Finnrick answered with a calming voice “Elves are the most famous of his characters that aren’t humans of course but there’s more: Elves, dwarves...”

“Hob…” Robert began but Finnrick cut him off.

“That’s a legal matter but yes. Wonderfully fantastic creatures.”

Robert narrowed his eyes “And?”

Finnrick leaned in close, smile mocking and cold “I hate when people take advantage of them.”

Robert was a cold, calculating heartless man who was used to being the smartest one in the room. The one who rigged the playing field in his favor, held every ace in his hand and led his prey exactly where he wanted them to be. He played with people before he destroyed their hope. He was the apex predator in the world of business.

It was satisfying to see that swagger and pride drain out of his face.

The businessman went for the button hidden underneath his side of the table, no doubt the switch to trigger the holding spells on Casey and Finnrick’s chairs. Of course Finnrick had dispelled them first chance he got and since the only other caster in the room was Casey, no one else noticed.

Robert’s face was the second most beautiful thing Casey had ever seen (first being Jaime but there was no need to tell her that). The panic, the fear, the utter confusion. Just poetic justice at its finest.

Finnrick shot to his feet with a surprising speed given his unremarkable build. He muttered the words of power, a magical incantation as his hand made the proper gestures to complete the spell.

The shades squad went for their weapons but Finnrick had gotten the drop on all of them. He pulled his hand back, a burning flame sitting peacefully in his palm. He pitched the flame forward, lobbing directly at the closet goon. The inhumanly beautiful man rose his arms to defend himself in time. The flame, mostly pressurized air, splashed over him harmlessly as the force of the attack shoved him back into the wall.

Casey followed Finn’s example. He stood as well (not as quick as his friend), a soft gentle light glowing from his hands. He glanced at the two remaining shades and aimed directly for them. A bolt of pure light burst forth from his palms. One goon got a chest full of holy energy and skidded backwards but the other was ready. He leapt to the side and narrowly avoided the attack as he slid out of sight.

The brutes charged towards the pair, murder in their eyes. Finnrick barely spared them a look as he snapped his finger. The two flames sigils he had imprinted om them when he grabbed their arms ignited, twin fires eating at their sleeves and sending them into a panic.

“What’s the plan?” Casey shouted, sending more holy bolts towards the shades.

“Up and over the counter.” Finnrick answered, tossing another fireball.

Casey quickly made his way closer, prepping to leap over the bar when Finnrick crashed into him, a strange whistling sound piercing his ears one moment then silent the next.

“Over buddy over!” Finnrick repeated, grabbing Casey by the collar and heaving him ontop of the counter. Casey flailed for a moment before glancing backwards. Finnrick was right behind him, hand outstretched as a blue translucent field of protective magic hung before the two while the shades opened fire with crossbows, the jet black bolts barely visible in the dimness of the room. They bounced harmlessly off the barrier but Casey could see the cracks starting to form.

Casey hopped over the bar gracelessly, struggling for a moment before clearing the jump. Finnrick tucked himself backwards, allowing himself to roll over the counter top and land on the other side with a thud.

“Remember when elves were honorable?” Casey huffed, quickly scanning the various bottles.

Finnrick scoffed “They were never honorable. They just acted better than everyone.”

“Remember when we were kids?”

“Vaguely. Pass the absinthe. I want to really make this hurt.”

“Blue bottle? These are all in German and Russian.”

“Green liquid. Come on Case I taught you better.”

“Right. I miss when the cartoons used to tell us the mafia was honorable.”

“Criminals these days.” Finnrick shook his head disappointingly “Just don’t make them like they used to. It’s all corporate shit.”

Casey began picking other bottles at random, wrapping them tightly with the tape he brought “It’s disillusioning I tell you. How right is he?”

Finnrick smashed a pane of glass. He took the jagged edge and slowly inched it over the counter, catching sight of the trio of shades for a moment before a crossbow bolt shattered the glass.

He flexed his hand, trying to relax his muscles. They were elves alright. They might be dressed in suits and ears hidden by some sort of glamour illusion magic but old habits died hard. Elves habits never died given their long lives. The trio had fallen into a close knit triangle formation: one fires, one reloads with the last taking aim.

“He had this whole operation locked tight. No one was talking. Either bribed them or made an example of them. Broken bones or horns. I had enough evidence to implicate him but bringing him to trial in the mundy court was going to be pointless.”

Casey moved the bottles back and forth to ensure they wouldn’t come loose midair “So what are we doing here?”

“Given his limited knowledge and the numerous magical violations I counted in this building alone, I figured he’s not registered with the Council.”

Casey’s eyes lit up in understanding “Gotcha. How long we got?”

Finnrick shook his hand back and forth “I’d say 10 minutes knowing the Council. Magic in an unregistered area requires a subtler approach for them. “

Casey snorted “Fake beards and stilts for the gnomes you mean? Robert will be gone by then.”

Finnrick’s face scrunched in concentration “He’s still here. Cowering under the table. He’s not used to dangerous wizards up in his face. Let’s scare him put huh?”

Casey spared his friend a glance “Big shot?”

Finnrick nodded in agreement “Aim high Case.”

And with a synchronicity only achieved through years of friendship, the two stood up at once. Casey threw the makeshift bomb high into the air as Finnrick formed the magical shield once more. Arrow after arrow bounced harmlessly off its surface as the bottles sailed through the air. Finnrick focused directly in the center of the payload. The shield dropped but the elves had broken formation and were all reloading at once. Finnrick pinched his thumb and finger together, murmuring under his breath. A small spark of flame fluttered wildly on his finger. He flicked it as quickly as he could towards the bottles. The spark spun and twisted as it floated towards the payload. The spark expanded, growing in size, and intensity, rapidly without warning. The air warmed as the spark exploded, smashing the bottles and engulfing the alcohol within. Flaming liquid, glass and hot air shot out in every direction. The elves were blasted off their feet and crashed against the far wall with sickening series of crunches. The floor above now had a massive hole in it and the brutes sprawled across the floor. Robert himself was thrown onto the ground, ash and soot covering his face as he struggled to breath.

He tried to call for someone but his ears were ringing and everyone was down for the count. He tried to search for the trouble makers but the smoke that filled the room was too thick.

The elevator dinged open once more and three pale suits came scuttling out. They clung to the walls on all fours, unnatural and repulsive. Their blood red eyes shone in the dimly light room, their fangs barred and ready for blood.

“Vampires!” Casey rubbed his eyes tiredly “This fucker has vampires. Loose by the way.”

“Right?” Finnrick shook his head “There are just so many regulations being violated right now.”

The vampires did not care. They dropped to the floor, gliding effortlessly midst the smoke and flame.

Casey took a step closer to the encroaching undead. He outstretched one hand towards them while the other clasped his necklace tightly. The vampires tilted their head quizzically at the symbol that adored the chain: It was a house of all things, a simple shape of rectangles and triangles no different than what a child would draw.

The vampires chuckled, their eyes bright with hunger.

Of course in their bloodlust they had forgotten something important: It was not the symbol but the faith behind it that was their bane.

Casey held the symbol as high as he could. The vampire shrunk away from him as his eyes blazed with holy energy, the symbol of home glowing with a harsh light. The vampires barred their fangs as a symphony of noises overwhelmed their senses: the soft hum of an air conditioner, footsteps thundering about, the chill of winter, the heat of summer, the overlapping sounds of cars and buses as the roar of crowds boomed in their ears. The city, the hearth of so many people, filled this room for a moment.

The vampires drew back, white smoking curling off their charring flaky skins. They ducked back into the elevator, hiding in whatever corner they could manage until the doors shut with a satisfying ding.

“Come on” Finnrick gestured to the window “I don’t want to be written up for unauthorized magic in an unregistered area.”

Casey and Finnrick scampered to the window. Casey’s face turned a sickly green when he realized how high up they were.

“Ugh I don’t feel good.” his stomach churned queasily.

Finnrick broke the window with his elbow, the fresh smoggy air of the city bringing some color back into Casey’s cheeks “I know buddy but it’s only eight floors up.”

“I hate you so much right now.”

“Okay cool jump now!”

Robert regained enough sense to see the troublemakers leap out the window without hesitation. He struggled to his feet when flickers of something began to form. Before he knew what was going on, the previously empty room was now filled with various creatures: Elves, dwarves, a gnome on silts had appeared out of thin air. They weren’t dress in any ancient medieval garb but rather dark blue jackets, jeans and combat boots with the initials M.R.R.D stitched on their clothing. They were no different than any one on the street aside their more unique physical features.

“M.R.R.D!” the gnome cried out, brandishing a strange clockwork pistol “Everyone freeze! We sensed a magical disturbance and a violation of the Arcane Veil!”

Robert rose to his full height “I am Robert Walker and I…”

The gnome opened fire and Robert could feel exhaustion overtake him. Sleepiness began to ebb at his resolve and before he could mutter another word, he closed his eyes. A dreamless sleep until he woke up in a council prison cell a few hours later.

-----

Casey didn’t scream as he fell through the air. He was too busy trying to keep his lunch in his stomach.

Finnrick waited a moment to make sure everything was in place and with a wave of his hand, the two began to fall much slower. They landed on their feet as if they had taken a step off the sidewalk instead of several stories up.

Casey began hyperventilating, trying his best to get his stomach settled. Finnrick began fanning his face when a man walked up to him.

Casey and Finnrick said nothing, waiting for the Arcana Veil to fill in any blanks they were missing. They could’ve told this man anything but they found from experience that it was just easier to roll with whatever the magical blanket that separated the mundane world from the magical decided.

The man peered at them, his gaze unsure and confused.

“Hey, you guys okay?” he asked helpfully.

Casey and Finnrick remained silent.

His eyes glazed over for a moment, a strange shimmering sheen within his pupils telling the duo that the veil was in effect.

“You guys are oddly dressed for window washers.” the man chuckled.

Finnrick glanced back to find a ghostly image of an electrically operated scaffold behind them, water buckets and squeegees included.

They shared a look.

“Would you believe it’s national window washer day?” Casey filled in.

Finnrick added “Yeah, they let us wear whatever want today. It’s only one day out of the year anyway and most of the time we work by ourselves so no harm done.”

the man nodded like that was the most reasonable thing he had ever heard “Right sorry. I’ll just be on my way.”

Finnick and Casey ducked out of the alleyway behind him, heads low and nonchalant as the human M.R.R.D members began to shut down the restaurant from the outside.

“Well that sucked.”

“Just a little. Here let’s go some dinner on me.”

“Damn straight on you Finny. Brutes, elves, vampires?”

“Oh my.”

“Now I’m ordering extra bread for that.”

[vivithefolle]

I'm a bit confused. You said in one post that you thoroughly dislike Hermione and that you had no respect for her at all. Yet ... you like Romione? idk, it seems contradictory tbh. I like when Romione shippers acknowledge her flaws and messed up moments but when someone that dislike and even hate her character that much ships Romione and I see them posting about them and calling them "cute" just seems weird

I’ll share with you my whole thought process so you can understand where I’m coming from:

Itty-bitty Vivi who read Harry Potter for the first time (at 13/14, so not so itty-bitty I guess, oops): Woaaah Hermione and Ron yaay!!! They're awesome I love them! They're my OTP always and forever!! Best thing to happen in Harry Potter!! JKR is a genius!

Slightly less itty-bitty Vivi discovering the Harry Potter fandom online (thankfully years after the ship wars, else I probably wouldn't have survived): Why is there so much hate towards Ron? And why are people so opposed to Romione?? It was meant to be since the first book! Or, okay, the second book is when I realized it was gonna happen, but still! Oh well, here is a fic where Hermione berates Ron for everything and he is the only one actually working for their relationship. Cool, more Romione!

Even less itty-bitty Vivi starting her own Tumblr and going around, adding her grain of salt to debates and talking about stuff: Yeah! Ron is great! He's done bad things of course but Hermione has done her fair share of bad things too! Actually, now that I'm rereading the books, I'm reminded of this person I used to call a friend, who was quite smart and cultured but would often be very harsh to me because they claimed it was “for your own good" and “because I'm more mature than you"… I still wanted to be around them, because they were just so smart and passionate, but we often rowed and eventually they really just went too far and tried to make ME out to be the bad guy and most people believed them because they had a reputation as someone cool and logical while I was known for being emotional… wait, what the fuck, that's… that's exactly what happens in the fandom with Ron and Hermione! What the fuck, was I Ron? Admired their intelligence, praised and supported them, fell in love even but was met with scorn and open disdain?!… no, no, come on. Hermione wasn't that bad.

Vivi rereading Half-Blood Prince (and no, this wasn't about the canaries, but about what Hermione was doing after): Oh my god she was that bad.

Vivi as she ponders alternately: Wait, what about JK Rowling? What does she think about all that? What was her intention, what did she want to accomplish with the characters? I know books belong to their readers but if I want as objective an analysis as possible I must try to understand her thought process while she wrote.

Vivi learning about a staple of British literature called “literary alchemy”: The quarreling couple!! Sulfur and Mercury, the Red King and the White Queen, who must marry for the story to end happily!! And their union is represented by… a rose!! Oh my god, that is brilliant, that is so cool! Romione was ALWAYS going to happen, I knew it! Ha!

Vivi discovering the “[Ron] needed to make himself worthy of Hermione” quote: Wha… but… what? Worthy? As if Hermione was some sort of precious trophy or whatever? What the hell? Wait, Ron had to make himself worthy of her but Hermione didn't have to make herself worthy of him? Is it because Ron is the boy or some shit like that??

Vivi going through JK Rowling's interviews and finding sexism and double-standards galore: Yep, it's because he's the boy. And that bit about Hermione being based off herself when she was younger… ouch. And to top it off the scriptwriter pretty much worshipped Hermione…

Vivi rereading the books again: Is it just me, or does Ron hardly ever get any praise or acknowledgement from the adult characters? Meanwhile Harry and Hermione get stuff like “as good as Charlie Weasley" or “brightest witch of her age"! And, damn, I used to side with Hermione because I love cats, but she was completely awful in POA! She apologized but then the plot made her out to be right even then?? And I always thought her Yule Ball entrance was kinda over-the-top, but damn if that's not compensating for something! Also what the hell, I get that Harry is suffering and all but will someone PLEASE pay attention to the fact that Ron is being bullied BY A FOURTH OF THE STUDENT BODY AND NOBODY SEEMS EVEN REMOTELY CONCERNED????? Also what the hell is wrong with the sixth book, I never liked it much but it's like it's trying to make every character look bad, wtf?? And, and, holy shit I never noticed but Ron was asking legit questions during the Horcrux Hunt debate but Harry kept deflecting or mocking him but it's still Ron who had to apologize in the end??? And I've read a whole post about how Hermione punching Ron is the appropriate reaction for a very small child and not a supposedly “mature" character, and that Harry had to SHIELD RON FROM HER, oh my god?? It's… oh my god, what the fuck is wrong with JK Rowling?

Vivi, in denial: Well, Harry Potter is decidedly not a romance. It's about love, but romantic love is quite far down the priority list when it comes to it. JKR has herself confessed that she wasn't too good at writing romance, and I don't blame her because writing romance is hard. But I did enjoy Romione! When I was little I saw it coming from a mile away, granted I was already savvy in literature but that must have been because she was doing something right! And then the sixth book happened… the sixth book which… which was released after the Harry Potter movies were being filmed, wasn't it?

Vivi looking up the timelines: Oh my god. Oh my god it's even worse, the movies were being discussed before Goblet of Fire came out. Come to think of it, I always found that the Trio felt… different, after Prisoner of Azkaban. Harry and Ron especially felt like they had gotten dumber? And Hermione was suddenly explaining everything when exposition used to be split between her and Ron…

Vivi, in mourning: So that's what happened. Ron ended up being shortchanged to make Hermione look better, because Rowling was fonder of Hermione than she was of Ron, and the scriptwriter too come to think of it. Curse you, Steve Kloves!!!

Vivi, who is nothing if not what Pokémon fans call a nostalgiafag: But… but… yeah, it sucks that Ron was shortchanged, and actually yeah it's a freaking travesty and I WILL freaking spread the world about this, mark my words, but, but I still… I can't help it, when Hermione “looked up at Ron and her frostiness seemed to melt" I melt too. When Ron compliments Hermione or tries to take care of her as much as he can I… it still does something to me, I still find myself rooting for them even if I know there's the awful sixth book and the stupid post-Locket beatdown. Their kiss, for God's sake, I've just realized that Ron may have swept Hermione off her feet physically, but it's Hermione who jumped him, you could say Hermione metaphorically swept Ron off his feet!! God damn it, that's good, that's so good!

Vivi, at war with herself: No, I can't let myself be blinded by nostalgia!! The facts are that Hermione shows borderline abusive - even actually abusive - behaviour, this can't be denied! I don't want to root for an abusive relationship! I don't want to root for a relationship that relies on my favourite character being dumbed down to work!!!

Vivi, about to uncover the secrets of the universe: … wait a second. I don't have to.

Vivi, having an epiphany: Reading Solstice Muse's Romione fanfics gives me such happiness because she just gets the characters! She doesn't portray Hermione as perfect and never fucking up, and she always treats what happens to Ron with respect… Well, especially since she can't play them off as a joke since she often makes Ron the POV character. But, yeah! I can still like Romione… if it's well-written. Which, well, isn't the case in the original books… at least, isn't the case anymore after Rowling's bias got the best of her. Even though they do have their great moments.

Vivi, finding purpose in her life: I am going to spread awareness. I am going to tell the world. Fuck, just rereading the books, I've noticed how blatant the favouritism is and how unbalanced it can be. No wonder the fandom seems to collectively scoff at Ron - the books themselves do whenever it's convenient for them! The fandom plays favourites, because the author herself played favourites, and the worst part is that she didn't even realize it! Imagine you spend your life getting into traumatic situations out of love for your friends who always receive compassion and validation for their feelings about said traumas, but YOUR trauma is hardly touched upon and in the rare case it is, it's only to be mocked or used against you… Fuck! You're a piece of work, JKR! And the fandom just swallows it whole like a bunch of lobotomized snakes! Screw it! Screw it, I'm going to say it like it is, and I'm going to say it LOUDLY! People are going to hear about what Ron goes through and we'll see if Harry and Hermione look like the only ones worthy of therapy then!!

Present day Vivi, as she scrolls through the (heavily filtered) Romione tag on AO3: Ugh, another Drarry… and another… and another… oh, a Hinny-centric fic for a change, cool but I'm looking for more Romione than that, sorry. Gah, why is it that Romione appears as a secondary ship everywhere but they can't get their own stories? I've just seen a Snupin come up for God's sake! Oh, finally, a full Romione!! *clicks* … … … awww that was so sweet. Kudos! Okay back to the search… oh, another one!! *clicks* … … … it's Ron-bashing. It's Ron-bashing and it's not tagged Ron-bashing and that's why it showed up in my search AND I'M GOING TO FREAKING RIOT-

[plaidbooks]

Can I request a Barba x reader based off Barba returning to SVU? He’s working as the defense in the reader’s coming trial with Sonny representing her. The reader and Barba dates before he left the show. He needed to move on and the reader wasn’t ready to leave New York. Barba genuinely believes the defendant is innocent and is still in love with the reader, but can’t see his friend go to jail for something he doesn’t believe he did. Angst or fluff; however you want to end it! Thank you!!

Time Heals

A/N: Yesssss. I love this; this is one of my favorite things I’ve written in a while tbh. I hope you enjoy, anon <3

Disclaimer: This is written before the episode Rafael comes back, so sorry for any inconsistencies for when that happens!

Tags: rape mention (reader was date-raped), angst with a happy ending

Words: 2102

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @glowingmess @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @dianilaws

(gif by @sseureki)

You rubbed your left hand nervously, a tick you picked up three years ago, waiting for Sonny to come back from the coffee machine with a cup for you both. You tried to stop your hands from shaking, your knee bouncing and your breathing picking up as you remembered the night that had changed your life, the reason you were in Sonny’s office in the first place. You had been attacked nearly two months ago; a date that had ended in you being drugged and waking up without your clothes on, sore everywhere. It still made you feel sick to your stomach, even though you had been a detective with SVU, dealt with victims of just this kind of thing for years. Olivia had sent you to a great therapist, and the nightmares had stopped soon enough.

Sonny finally came back, placing the coffee on the table in front of you, and you mumbled a thanks. “How are ya feeling, [Y/N]?” he asked softly, placing a hand over yours. Sonny was your partner once upon a time, and you were still close.

“I wish people would stop asking me that,” you replied, smiling. He still looked concerned, so you said, “I’m fine, Son. Just…a little shaky, still. I just want this over and done with.” You sighed heavily, running a hand over your face.

“I know, doll. Soon, I promise. We got Adams on tape leaving the bar with you, taking you back to your hotel room, leaving the hotel an hour later, and his confession. We got this scumbag,” he said with conviction.

You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee. Kendrick Adams was the man you had gone on a date with…and the man who date raped you. He seemed pretty upset about it, but you had no sympathy for the man who had forced himself inside you. The one silver lining is that he had used a condom; you had no STDs, and you weren’t pregnant.

“Has he got a new defense attorney yet?” you asked, idly stirring your coffee with the small, wooden stirring stick. His old attorney was court appointed, and was not doing a good job representing him. Fin, as much as you loved the man, wasn’t so sure Adams was guilty. He thought that during the confession, Adams seemed confused, upset, and he recanted three days later.

“Call it a gut feeling,” Fin had said, earning a glare from you and Sonny. Both of you were ex-Detectives, and you both knew the accuracy of gut feelings, and while you could admit that Fin was usually correct, you were positive that he wasn’t. Not this time.

“Yeah, I’m meetin’ them today. I’m not sure who it is, though,” Sonny replied, shuffling some papers around. “In 30 minutes, actually.”

“Mind if I hang around? I’d like to know who’s trying to defend that asshole.”

Sonny gave you a long stare. “Technically, you’re not allowed to. But, if you were to, I don’t know, leave 5 minutes beforehand, bump into them….”

You gave him a smirk. “Thanks Sonny.”

 ***********************

You didn’t even get a chance to make your early exit before there was a knock on the door, presumably the defense attorney. You glanced at Sonny, who rose his eyebrow before saying, “uh, come in.” Your breath caught when in walked Rafael Barba. Time seemed to stop as his bright green eyes slid to yours, locking there in surprise. He looked…different. Not just the salt and pepper beard. But he looked happier than the last time you had seen him, more…alive. He still had a deep sadness in his eyes, but the last time you had seen him, he was defeated, a shell. Now, he at least looked like a person again. He resembled the man you had fallen in love with all those years ago. You unconsciously rubbed at your left hand, and his eyes flickered down to the motion. Just like that, the spell was broken, and you sucked in a deep breath.

“Please tell me this is a joke,” you muttered, suddenly remembering why he was there, that this wasn’t random chance. Rafael simply gaped at you. “Are you really a defense attorney? For fucking Adams?”

“Nice to see you, too, Detective,” Rafael said, eyes narrowing. “Yes, I am defending Adams. And you’ll find that my client is innocent.”

“Innocent my ass,” you sneered, standing angrily.

“[Y/N], let’s not—” Sonny started, but Rafael cut him off.

“He is innocent, and I’ll prove it in court. That is, unless ADA Carisi is willing to talk deals.”

You stomped up to Rafael, blood boiling, getting right up into his face. “Fuck deals, Raf. I want that bastard dead. Rotting in a fucking cell.”

“What do you have against this guy, huh? Call you a bad name in the interrogation room?”

Sonny spoke up again. “Barba, don’t—”

“Cause he fucking raped me!” you screamed in Rafael’s face. You watched his face go through every human emotion you could think of in the span of a few seconds, ending with a profound remorse.

“[Y/N]…I’m—” he started, but you shoved past him, slamming the door to Sonny’s office as you left, tears falling freely down your face. This was the first time you had seen Rafael in three years, and this was not how you thought this reunion would go. Your heart still strained when you thought about his bright green eyes. And that beard certainly made him more attractive. But he was defending your rapist, and you didn’t know how you could deal with that. You rubbed your left hand nervously, making your way outside, trying to find some air.

 **********************

Sonny informed you that him and Rafael were unable to come to a deal, and that Rafael was going for a plea of not guilty. You wanted to hate him, to be pissed and to just…hate him. But you couldn’t. You had spent too many years loving Rafael, and a small part of your brain kept thinking that if Rafael thought Adams was innocent…well, maybe something was there. But how could you be so wrong? How could all of SVU be so wrong?

“We’ve been wrong before,” Fin mentioned, shrugging nonchalantly, as if this wasn’t your life. It made you want to scream.

You tried to move on with your life, enjoy your retirement, stopping by One Hogan Place to talk with Sonny whenever he asked you to. He made sure to schedule you on separate days from Rafael, so that you wouldn’t run into him, and you were forever grateful. But just knowing he was in the same city as you made the hairs on your arms stand up on end, and you weren’t quite sure if that was a good thing or not.

Finally, you couldn’t avoid him anymore, not when he showed up at your front door, a bouquet of multicolored roses in his hand.

“Can we talk?” Rafael asked, hopeful.

“Should I have counsel?” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.

He shuffled awkwardly on his feet. “[Y/N]���please…not about the trial. About us.”

Sighing, you moved out of the way, letting Rafael enter your apartment. It felt small with him there, much smaller than the place you both shared a lifetime ago. He glanced around appreciatively, before turning back to you, offering you the flowers. You took them, closing your eyes at the beautiful scent. He followed you to the kitchen while you found a vase, filling it with water.

“You still look beautiful, cariño,” Rafael murmured as you placed the flowers in the vase. You felt your eyes fill with tears, but you blinked them away rapidly, not wanting him to see.

“Why are you here, Raf?” you asked, trying to keep your voice from wavering. Looking at the sadness in his eyes, it was a struggle to not cross the distance between you, to not hug him until he was happy again.

“I—I wanted to see you. I told you when I left that I still loved you; that hasn’t changed.”

You swallowed, rubbing at your left hand. You looked down at your hand, the faint tan line on your ring finger still visible, even after these three long years.

“Then why are you defending Adams?” you breathed.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Adams is…an old friend.” Rafael’s eyes locked to yours. “I know him, [Y/N]. He didn’t do this. And I refuse to see him go to jail for it. The evidence is circumstantial, at best, and you know it. You’re a detective—”

“I’m not a detective, Raf. Not anymore. I…I haven’t been a detective since you left. I just, I couldn’t do it anymore…” you trailed off.

“Oh,” was all he said. The silence dragged on, both of you unsure of what to say. He confessed that he still loved you, and he did honestly believe that Adams was innocent. Maybe he was right; the evidence was circumstantial…besides the confession, which Adams recanted shortly after. Liv told you he was claiming that you had seemed drunk and that he had helped you to your room. That he had held your hair while you vomited, then helped you to bed, staying with you until you fell asleep, hence why he was there for an hour before leaving. But if that were the case, then who assaulted you? Rollins and Kat already interviewed the hotel staff, the people on the same floor as you, and the security in the hotel, with no new leads.

“Where does this leave us?” Rafael finally asked, eyes searching yours. “Do you still…do I still have a chance with you?”

You swallowed under his intense stare. “I—I don’t know, Raf. I still…I still have feelings for you. I know that we agreed to take a break while you…figured things out. But that was three years ago, Rafael! I just—I don’t…and with all this shit with Adams—”

“I understand. Really, I do. I’m…I’m willing to wait for you. Hell, I’m willing to start all over again, relearn everything about you. Please, just give me a chance,” Rafael pleaded, taking a step closer to you.

“How do I know you won’t leave again?” you murmured, stopping him in his tracks.

His face fell, his hands clenching at his sides. “I’m here to stay; I promise.”

“As a defense attorney?”

Rafael winced. “Not all defense attorneys are bad, [Y/N]. Besides, I’ll only do it if I’m convinced my client is innocent. I’m not in it for the money; I’m in it to keep innocent people out of jail. I’m—it’s still me, cariño…I haven’t changed that much in the past three years. I’ve just…I’ve found myself again.”

You looked at him, really looked. Rafael’s hair had grey streaks, a speckled beard hiding that sarcastic mouth you loved. His bright, seafoam eyes were still alert, intelligent, locked to yours in question. He had more lines on his face, but the dark circles that used to be under his eyes had lessened. Even the way he held himself, the way he spoke, seemed lighter, less stressed. You suddenly wished, for the millionth time since he had left, that you had gone with him. But, at the time, you couldn’t force yourself to leave New York. Even if it meant losing Rafael for a little. Neither of you knew it would be this long. This date with Adams was actually your first date since Rafael left.

“I don’t think it would be good for Sonny’s case if I dated the defendant’s defense attorney,” you said, a soft smile pulling at your lips.

Rafael grinned, coming to you and pulling you into a tight hug, his cologne comforting, even after all this time. He placed a kiss on your cheek, his beard tickling your skin.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Rafael murmured into your ear.

“I am, too,” you whispered back, fresh tears in your eyes. “But, if not Adams…who?”

He leaned back to look at you. “I don’t know…I wish I did, but Kendrick doesn’t know, either. He really did just take care of you before leaving you in your room. My best guess is one of the hotel staff…maybe the bartender? They have a separate elevator; I’ll have Liv check the tapes.”

You nodded. “And us?”

“I agree that we should wait until this trial is over. Then…dinner?”

“Dinner sounds lovely,” you replied, giving Rafael another hug. It would take time to get back to where you were before. But maybe this time, the two of you would get married.

[long-cosmos-overhead]

Prompt: Can I get a Thranduil one where the reader landed in middle earth and went through the whole journey with the fellowship. She's really close with the group so Legolas suggests that she visits mirkwood with him and meet her father. When Thranduil meets her, he instantly takes a liking to her. She has an attitude and he just finds her adorable. It's nothing romantic more like a protective platonic relationship sort of daughter like one. Please do headcanons if you don't mind, can you make it long?

As requested it is super long 🥰

(I do not own LoTR or it’s characters/ gif not mine)

You were needless to say exhausted after travelling with the fellowship you all did so much that beforehand you would’ve said was impossible not to mention emotionally chipped at having to part ways with your friends

You became extremely close to Legolas the pair of you instantly became like two peas in a pod, you were his self proclaimed best friend and he was your self proclaimed favourite elf

Friendly affection was not at all weird for you even the company would walk by, find you both relaxing legs tangled and laughing and it would be completely normal

Legolas always left you with his bow when he had to attend to something, he put complete trust in you, he came back and found you trying to hit a tree with his bow and instead of getting angry like everyone anticipated, he taught you how to use it well into the night

Eventually Legolas let you touch his hair, he had taught you before that hair was only allowed to be touched by family, lovers or close friends that was the extent of your friendship and soon after he began braiding your hair

You and Legolas were joined at the hip by the time the quest was over, you had pondered a lot about where you would go afterwards since you had no home in Middle Earth and Legolas himself did ask where your home was

When you told him you didn’t have one he almost immediately started convincing you to come home to Mirkwood with him, he was slightly worried about what his father would say to bringing a human back with him but you were his best friend and not only would he feel endlessly awful for leaving you out to fend for yourself the rest of your life but the thought of being separated from his best friend was also a thought he could never warm up to

Turns out Thranduil loved you right from the first meeting, Legolas had introduced you and since you were burnt out, sleep deprived and sore you fell right into him and to top it off you said he smelt nice and him and Legolas had the same hair

Legolas was certain you were done for but instead Thranduil smiled a little and ordered a guard to take you to one of the guest rooms after you had gone he told Legolas to make sure you stayed in Mirkwood

Needless to say Legolas was stunned but exstatic

Something about you made Thranduil instantly protective and put him in a good mood he couldn’t place what it was but he instantly liked you secretly he found your sleep deprived self adorable and he wanted you to stay in Mirkwood

He came to visit you in the guest chambers the next day and from there you only grew closer, the pair of you ended up talking for hours before Thranduil remembered he has duties to take care of

You didn’t want him to leave after finally having such an interesting conversation so you said “If it really needed to be done someone would’ve found you right, I mean you are the King”

That was the first Thranduil had heard your sarcasm and outlook on things and he loved it, to him it was like a breath of fresh air having someone treat him as more of a friend than a King for once and he looked at you and laughed

He stayed from the time the sun rose to the time the sun set talking with you, he even chose to walk you round a few of the halls and walked you back to the guest room

Since then you spent as much time with Thranduil as you did with Legolas, Thranduil loved you as his own he saw you as his best friend and in some cases his daughter, he loved your attitude especially the way you got into a bit of light hearted trouble

You and Legolas were hanging out in the stables one day when you decided to ‘accidentally’ miss throwing the bucket of water over the horse and instead throw it on a guard that was standing nearby the guard was soaked and you got caught for laughing too much

The guard took you right to Thranduil to complain and the whole time you were standing trying not to laugh at the sight of a soaking wet guard try to explain to the King of Mirkwood that his sons best friend just threw water over him

It seemed Thranduil felt the same way as after the guard left he looked you dead in the eye and said “do it when I’m around next time” you were thrilled

Thranduil always kept his eye on you, you were far younger than Legolas and despite how strong you may be the elves were genetically a lot stronger this meant you got hurt more and sick easier

You actually did get sick once Thranduil sensed you were getting a bit lethargic and less energetic but when he heard news you were bedridden with a nasty case of the flu he resigned from all his duties as king and stayed with you only returning to run the kingdom if you had fallen asleep for the night or if Legolas took his place

You had him wrapped around your finger that whole week, Thranduil got extremely protective of you no one was allowed near you aside from him, Legolas and a few healers

He made sure your temperature was normal even if it meant having to take away layers if you claimed you were freezing, he personally made you food and it turns out he was a great cook something which you complimented him on and he insisted on letting you cuddle up to him ignoring you when you declined saying you didn’t want to get him sick elves don’t get sick often anyways

Legolas teased him for going soft around you, his council light heartedly said he was going soft for a human even you said he was going soft to which he declined every single time his excuse always “humans are fragile, I am simply watching she isn’t hurt”

Biggest lie he’d ever told, he loves you to death and he’s been seen on more than one occasion at the door of your room asking if you want to see the stars or hang out for the day

You have a little thing you like to do when Thranduil gets particularly miserable or grumpy (sadly it still happens) you leave notes or drawing or stupid jokes in the pockets of his robes so when he’s having a rough or long day he can reach into his pocket and find a stupid drawing of an elf he hates or a note telling him about the time you fell off a horse it never fails to make him smile

Like Legolas, Thranduil warms up to the idea of letting you touch his hair and vice versa you always feel so lucky to be able to touch a princes and kings hair not to mention his hair is stunning, you can braid it to your hearts content and even if your hairstyling skills are limited or advanced it’ll go right back to the silky smooth, flawless style he had it in before you beg him and Legolas to tell you their secrets instead they either laugh or jokingly braid your hair to make you feel better

Legolas and Thranduil are both protective of you but Thranduil takes the title of most protective by a long shot, Legolas knows your can hold your own but he’s got his eye on you and fights beside you he’s more of a look out for you person

Thranduil however is endlessly protective you’re more fragile than him or Legolas and he would be devastated if something were to happen to you, one of the stairs broke on the spiral leading to your room and he carried you up them until they were fixed

You went out with Thranduil, Tauriel and a few other elves to assess the spider situation in the forest it was nothing bad in fact the forests had been relatively safe for a while now so really there was nothing to fear

You had been walking around for a while now and we’re about to leave with the others until a spider hatchling jumped on you, in your shock you dropped your blade and bruised your back and shoulders during the fall

You didn’t even have time to scream or process what happened before Thranduil had killed it and you were in his arms in an instant

He looked more scared than you however bear in mind you were still in shock, Thranduil was pretty frantic searching for any bites or big injuries to be relived that you were only a little sore and bruised after realising you were okay he hugged you tight, the horror of losing his best and most trusted friend almost became a reality

Thranduil and Legolas personally took care of you, Legolas made stupid jokes and helped put away your weapons and clothing while Thranduil tended to your injuries gently leading you into his embrace when he was done

Thranduil cuddled you like a koala for a long time just making sure you were there if things went wrong he didn’t want to think where you would be meanwhile Legolas played with hair calming you down a little but the best part was you were surrounded by your favourite elves in the whole world

You were so glad you fell to Middle Earth

@x-celticpirate-x

[myelocin]

how it feels to come home | hanamaki t.

synopsis: how you and takahiro saw life, love, and the struggle of the climb to the summit. the realization that this is a love that feels like home.

characters: hanamaki takahiro, you 

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort. tw: mentions of depression 

wc: 2000+

a/n: i am tipsy to the point of being emo but not enough to slur my words. this is not edited i am just genuinely wordvomitting how much i love takahiro tears

and maybe this was what life was supposed to feel like. 

the notion of always running, chasing, craving something (or someone) that could or couldn’t be ours. for you, it was a boy when you were seven years old. brown hair, ocean blue eyes and a dimple that dived deeper the wider he smiled. 

you don’t recall his name, but you recall the feeling. and judging by what you thought was love and what was real in the moment, that was love for you. love, like the bloom of your chest and the fireworks beneath your eyelids when he offered you a juice box from his lunchbox when he noticed that you spilled yours. 

where love, then, was a shy smile, curly brown hair, and a name you think that started with j. 

you smile at the memory every time. at thirteen when you thought that love was as only as good as it would ever get once you reached the summit. the summit, in this case, being a home at 4407, a window that over looked the garden and the sunlight spilling past thin white curtains every five pm. love, like the feeling of stability that the clockwork of the mundane granted you with. a dog that barked his hello, a mother who gave you iced tea and forehead kisses in the summer, and the strings of the violin you think would take you to greater heights. 

but after the summit, you recall, comes the drop. the drop, being the weekly chemotherapy sessions, the wilted roses, overgrown thorns, and weeds where the herbs were supposed to grow. a gentle pat to the cheek, then a breathless “i’m proud of you,” spoken to the word and gifted to you as a final parting from a mother who loved you like she loved life. 

but life was still here, and even with death, you still believed that despite the drop and despite the waves beneath the summit that crashed and pulled at you to join the wreck in the depths-- love was still seen at the horizon.

so after that, you began to try to grasp at the crumbs of love that life still gave you. 

the truth is, life was a constant that never left. happiness and blessings, on the other hand were something that was never promised, but life, you think, she is who stayed. she, as the breeze that flipped the page of your journal until you were looking at the words you wrote from a time your heart was light. life, was the unfurling of the leaf-- the metaphor from the world you came to love because it reminded you that moments can change as quick as such. from happiness to sadness, the state of being in motion and pausing. 

you cried every time life gave you a reminder to live despite the hurt. 

(truth be told, you still cry. hurt and love were constants that you just learned to live with in the end, you realize.)

it comes and goes. at times flowing, and other times pulling. but every time, pushing for you to rediscover a new meaning. 

so you kept living.

picked up the pieces of you from the past and the present even though it looked a little worse for wear and kept running. chasing the thought that it wasn’t exactly love that should have you craving for more, but rather just life itself. 

and like the serendipity you tried to tell yourself never existed, you meet hanamaki takahiro when you found yourself back up at the top of the summit. he arrived with a “hey,” then a “hello,” and a pat towards the shoulder because ignoring him for the third time was a little off putting (as he claims) at this point. 

you realize you weren’t terrified of love for the matter, because this time even if you find yourself at the very top of the summit--feeling the high of life like you did all those years ago before the plunge, there was a difference. it being the infinite sense of love for the self that had you feeling like even if you were to jump and risk the crash, you know you had a parachute this time to pull you back into the heavens before the waves or the jagged rocks below broke your fall. 

and by gods, you think to yourself, there was something about him that made life exhilarating. 

he wasn’t the love or the prince charming like the books had always hinted at, you realize. 

rather, hanamaki takahiro looked like he was three beers away from having a beer belly. (which wasn’t bad, you think. you catch him poking at his stomach often and mumbling about how ripped he used to be in his youth.) 

(you think happiness suited him the best, so the physical wasn’t exactly much of a factor for you.)

cropped pink hair that grew from micro bangs to the wispy kind that fell into his eyes more often than he likes to admit. grey eyes that look like pearl when he looked at the sun. freckles across his cheeks that he used to always say were kisses from the angels themselves because he’s just that angelic. the kind of laughter that rings and echoes around the room, even on open space, because you come to realize that takahiro has truly become everything for you in the moment he held your hand when you were at the summit.

“if we fuck up, then we fuck up.” he said. and the tears, hurt, and frustration that came with being an adult when you know you weren’t one yet spilled after the last syllable of his words. 

love, in this case, didn’t happen from a ten second interaction, but rather it was because life at this point overflowed to the point of it pooling on your feet. and so there you were, ankle deep in thoughts despite reaching the summit. feeling like the something you were meant to be chasing was still there waiting to be taken. 

love, at that point was the thought of being safe and okay. of stability and the false assurance that this is as good as it’s going to ever get. this, meaning the one bedroom apartment, solo bank account, second hand car, and table for one on weekly dinners kind of thing. 

and even if that was a part of your life that was always going to be okay; always going to be the years where you learned what self love meant, serendipity and life unfurling another chapter for you was still a possibility you needed to be prepared for. 

“i think,” takahiro says beside you. “i think you’re just scared of admitting that you’re in love with me.”

you stare at the sky in front of you instead of answer him. but like always, takahiro takes it upon himself to search for your answer through the silence you gave him. 

he smiles, then looks up at the sky above and breathes nice and easy. 

inhale. exhale. 

a pat on your back that says “it’s okay,” then his warmth suddenly cradling you as if you were a child in need of protection and he was the world who breathed life into the earth. 

you remember the thought of life always giving you a hint of when to take its blessings, and when the tears finally push past the barrier you set for yourself, you think that this might be one of those times. 

you sort of cry. in a way that tells takahiro that you’re still a little broken, but more so thankful about a multitude of things. 

still, he pats your back. steady and comforting, like the words that still spill from his lips.

the sky before you looks grand, you think. 

you cry a little harder because you know that you always have loved the skies. all the stories and poems its given you over the years. through the moments of everything. the spilled juice box and shy smiles when you were a child; the heartbreak and moments of drowning when you were thirteen; the struggle and the climb towards the summit again that felt more fruitless than victorious throughout the years.

the sky, you cry, was the very thing you settled on chasing all these years despite not having quite a solid goal. just the clouds of scarlet and pink, and the clouds that reflected the sun and hid the stars before the night took over the day. a swirl of everything that spoke of promise and grace and the kind of truth that was more enlightening than beautiful.

the reassurance, that this was the view from the summit.

life was the view from the summit.

and a part of that was hanamaki takahiro who still sits next to you; smelling like dorito dust and strawberry soju, who rubs circles on your back and laughs, “it’s okay” again and again until you finally relent and look at him with dry eyes.

“you did well,” he laughs, and you appreciate that even if he doesn’t understand the hurt, his hands are always the first thing that touch your face and wipe your tears after your shoulder shakes and your walls crumble.

so in that moment, “i love you,” is what you say, because the wind kisses your cheek again and the horizon that you see from the summit urges for you to tell him your truth.

and truth be told, he could have told you “i know,” and laughed, like half of you expects him to do. he could have pinched your cheek and told you a joke to lighten the situation and dry even more of your tears, but when he looks at you—still broken and vulnerable in front of him, at the very top of the summit he just knows you spent your life climbing, he bites his words and listens for the whisper of the world.

and it comes to him.

a whisper that’s slow, and a little soft. like the wind that ruffles the very ends of your eyelashes when you step out of your home and into the earth in the early weeks of autumn. he thinks of the sky, and how grand it is. how just months before this, before he met you, the colors above were just scarlet and pink and maybe a little indigo at best.

but at the summit—which for him is this point in life, with you—he realizes that the colors are not just colors, and the clouds aren’t just touches of white.

at your “i love you,” he finally sees life. he sees his whole life in front of him. he sees a ring, a smile after an “i do”, two children where one looks like him and the other you, and a flower shop with a home on the second floor on the corner of the street. 

and the poetry that comes to him in this very moment is one with words that are as beautiful as you.

“i love you,” you say again, because even if the moment itself wasn’t the only thing that felt right, you knew hanamaki takahiro was the factor that had you saying your truth as easy as you list your own faults.

he cups your face in between his hands and presses his forehead against yours.

the sky above bursts with marmalade because it rejoices at the truth.

“so this is life,” takahiro replies instead, and when he kisses you, for the first time since the climb, you taste love.

love, like hints of strawberry soju and the mint gum he chewed after eating two bags of doritos.

love, like hanamaki takahiro.

the serendipity that life gave you.

-

[carrottuan93]

Haven’t met you yet| Mark

Masterlist (4/4)

Starring: MK x You

Tags: Mark Tuan, Fluff, Destiny, Waiting, Christmas, Bookworm, Nerd, Love, Fate

Total WC: 3075

An hour left before Christmas, Mark told you that he doesn’t believe in Santa Claus. He said he’d rather believe on the existence of aliens because he watched too much American movies about the extraterrestrial life. That sounded cool for you that you both share the same interest for the unknown life out there, but you don’t want to discredit Santa for giving you Mark to spend the Christmas eve with. He did not only hit the roof of your standards, but he exceeded them. He never cease to met all the bars for your ideal type and he’s never failed you so far with his vast array of knowledge of all the topics you guys are talking about in the past 2 hours. Guys for you are sexy if they can carry a proper conversation.

 “I swear to God if an alien comes out of nowhere, I’d let him take me and I’ll fly with him in a heartbeat.” You’re a whole lot better now that you’re sharing a lot of jokes and making fun of each other. Setting aside the world and the rest of the others. Just you, him and the wine under the starry sky.

 “Jesus, out of all the people in our planet, you chose to elope with someone from the outside world. In my case, I’d let them take me as long as they will show me how spaceships work so I could finally meet my childhood dream of becoming a space police, riding those cool ships and chasing bad aliens.” Your topic reached the outer space already but you’re now laying on the floor beside Mark, as you watch the open glass roof ceiling of the observatory with eyes wide awake.

 “What’s wrong with dating an alien? At least, I get to experience travelling to different galaxies and planets. So much for the trouble of chasing bad aliens for a living.” You snickered, earning his grumpy voice.

 “If you’re going to date alien, at least choose someone handsome.” He replied, placing both of his arms underneath his head.

 “I haven’t seen any handsome alien yet, I mean all the creatures that they show on tv are the ones with the big bald heads, oval shaped eyes, and lanky thin frames. I don’t think they’d fit the definition of handsome.” This is your first time watching under the stars on top of the freaking Namsan Tower observatory and you’re delighted to experience it on a Christmas day with Mark.

 “I am just right here beside you. I’m handsome since I was born, that’s already a given, I know. So just save yourself from the trouble of finding the alien guy of your dreams because Mark has come to save the unbothered princess from distress.” You don’t know if he’s still sober enough at this hour but you can tell that you aren’t drunk enough to be hearing this from him.

 “Handsome guy perks, a ticket to finding instant dates. Why do you even want to date me?” You turned to your side, facing him. You're curious and you want to get straight to the point.

 “Now that we’ve got to the topic of impressions, I think you’re quite interesting. That maybe you could make my Christmas eve a little less lonely, perhaps. Scratch that, maybe you could fit on all types of holidays and occasions. Maybe you’re a girl matched for all the seasons.” You felt giddy now that you’re facing each other, side to side, but still, you need to calm your high hopes for this guy.

 “If this is a date, I’m ditching you already.” You glanced at him quickly and was rewarded by his cute eye smile. Oh cupid, this is not fair play for showing up earlier than your scheduled season in February.

 “Why not? Am I not appealing to you? Come on. Try me." You watch his eyes examine your face, those hazelnut orbs are beautiful, and you want to train your eyes and treat them as their home. You never experienced staring at any guy for the longest time until tonight and all you can hear is the sound of him breathing, reciprocating your own rhythm. You aren’t aware that silence is actually too deafening when it’s the heart that does the talking. Those tall buildings appear smaller from a distant and they're glistening different hues and wavelength of bright lights, which are now witnesses to you finding love in the most unexpected way. But you don’t have the concrete definition of love because you haven’t felt it before. You just know and you can feel the unfamiliar zip of current travelling on your bloodstream. It’s just the two of you, and you’re under the supervision of the constellations in the open sky above, and it’s magical that you feel like these were the exact same stars that the first lovers saw on earth. How come it's too peaceful up there when you lay next to him? It’s a perfect moment for your exhausted soul to recover from your endless pursuits and maybe this is your fate taking its move. You are no daredevil to begin with and chasing ecstasy aren’t your cup of tea because you’re always craving for assurances in all the right places. But Mark is your risk and guarantee, all at once.

 It is really tiring to find something when you don’t even know what you’re searching for in the first place. One thing is for sure, you haven't met anyone so random and fascinating like him. He's unique, overflowing with charms and maybe a box full of surprises for you to discover. Deep down, you've been wanting to get to know him more and you're aware that you're crossing oceans knowing that you’ll meet him on the other end. It is very unlike you to just casually lower your guard down for someone upon your first meeting but when it comes to Mark, everything seems to magically untangle in all the right places.

 “Because I’m beginning to think that I misplaced my heart somewhere when it is still right here, intact on my rib cage. It’s just that my heart feels foreign to me now that you’re slowly owning up most of the empty spaces in my atrium.” He smiled like a panacea of all earthly ills and his smile could heal the world.

 “I am no poet, but Paulo Cuelho once said ‘if it’s still in your mind, it is worth taking the risk’. I could see the thrill of chase, the first time I laid my eyes on you last night and you never left my mind ever since I got to talked to you tonight. Actually, I’ve met you already a long time ago. So you need to catch up with me and we all have the days on our feet to go on a lot of spontaneous pursuits, and you’ll make up for the lost time that you’re supposed to have known me already.” He’s too good with words and you’re drowning and drowning and you never wanna be saved. You’ve encountered almost all kinds of contracts on your work already and you always make sure to read the terms and agreements regardless of the number of pages but when it comes to Mark, you’d gladly sign the papers right away even with your eyes closed. But something doesn’t feel right with what he is saying.

 "First of all, I haven’t met you yet not until this evening.” Maybe it’s the wine that’s getting you drunk, hearing things and such.

 “You wouldn’t believe me if I tell you that you’re the reason why I traded my Christmas in the US for a night here with you in Seoul for a blind date. I might sound stupid, but you should thank Jackson for all the credits. He introduced you to me a year ago and I stopped attending parties ever since my cousin did all the marketing strategy and such. It’s crazy right? For all I care, I’m tired of all things temporary so I trust my cousin when he said that you’ll give the permanence that I’m searching for. I don’t really know, I’m a random guy and I told my mom I’m hopping on a 14 hour flight to Seoul on Christmas eve to meet this girl so I went here for risk’s sake. And my luck has never failed me when you come to my place last night, barging in like some kind of an annoyed girlfriend coming home from a party. Damn, you nearly broke my unit’s lock system. You can claim your stuff at my place later when we go home, and you owe me a ‘Thank you’ because I saved you from carelessly sleeping into someone else’s bed. I respected your drunken state and I slept on the floor, so you have nothing to worry about. I’m just surprised that you disappeared in the morning all of a sudden without even saying anything.” You sat on your place, unable to process everything that he just said. You realized you’re so done, the heavens above could just open up and take you already because there isn’t any influence of wine taking over your completely sober minds. Everything is real and happening and you’re overwhelmed, and you don’t know what to do anymore.

 “WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT???!” You screamed to your shock, running all over the place like you killed somebody and you badly want to escape the room due to your embarrassment.

 “Wow, you even curse louder than I’ve imagined. It’s alright, Y/n. I’m fully aware that you love the scent of fabric conditioner because you can’t get enough of me last night. I can’t blame my parents for giving birth to myself. I left your stuff in my room, but I know I got something that you badly need right now.” He fished out your planner from the pocket of his coat, waving it like some kind of a show money in the air and you’d do what it takes to retrieve it back to your possession.

“Relax, I didn’t mean to interfere with your personal schedule, but I just saw a picture of pink roses at the back of your planner.” He gave you the planner and you hugged it like your world depended on it. He clapped his hands in the air and a guy came out of nowhere, carrying a bouquet of full-grown pink roses. It’s your first time receiving your favorite flowers from a guy and you feel like you don’t deserve Mark because he’s too good for you. Your eyes are now brimming in tears, knowing that God already gave the sign that you’re looking for. He’s standing right beside you and all you need to do is to take a leap, because it’ll be all or nothing.

 “Jackson, you’re so dead to me. He sold me even without my permission and now that you’re right here, I’m suing you as well because of the amount of emotional damaged you have caused to my system. Now I’ll never be the same again because you gave me an ocean when I’m only asking for some rain.” You’re crying because of happiness. He dried your tears and he hugged you, so tight, you never wanna let go of him anymore. He smells of fabric conditioner and you’re never going to shut up about it.

 "If only you can see yourself from my own perspective, you'd want to date yourself too. You sound scary whenever you want to sue someone because of something. First, it's my cousin Jackson and now you're suing me as well. That makes you interesting. A tough nut to crack. You're a challenge and I'm always up for the stakes of it. I'm not a perfect guy but we can save all the paralegal proceedings with just settling everything in our own terms, alright? I'm a man of my own words. I might be a pro player, but only in games for your reference, because I don't play with hearts, I win them. You just need to chill and worry about not falling too hard for me. Because I'm pretty sure, I'd beat you up to it." The man's got a way with his words. He's the definition of smooth and speed at the same time. But he's more than that. You like smart guys, you're attracted to their brains and you'll be placing all of your poker cards on the table for this sweet bounty.

 "I'm not sure if our personalities coincide or if our interests are compatible but I'm hoping that whatever it is, this mutual attraction tonight isn't just a one-time thing. Just so you know, Eunhee has given me enough stress with all the troublesome blind dates I've been to lately. All I’m asking is for you to be sincere and honest because once I let you in my life, you'll never be allowed to leave anymore." You glanced down on your fingertips, too afraid to enter a commitment, you feel like you're having a mini heart attack. You swear that Mark could really hear your heart pounding louder than ever.

 "Fate is really unpredictable. If you will ask, I'd rather believe in the existence of aliens more than Santa but what if he's really residing in the North Pole and he gave you to me as my Christmas present? I’m not going to run away because the chase is finally over. All you need to do is surrender yourself to me. No more buts, and what ifs. Only if you'll gonna agree to date me, my Dad will be really proud of raising a gambler just like him.” You could only wish for time to stop right there on your spot. You couldn’t ask for more, you began to doubt yourself if you really deserve all the good things that has come to your life. You wouldn’t want to wake up from this fantasy, but your eyes aren’t going to lie, there is love all over the place and you can see that it is real and happening this time.

 "I don't know much about you, but I would love for you to to bring me into another spontaneous trip of yours cause I'm absolutely up for more of your surprises." All you can ever hear is the sound of a loud bang with all the fireworks lightning up the sky in iridescent hues as you froze right on your spot, eyes wide open, when you felt his lips on yours in one swift chaste kiss. He's too gentle, you can feel his breath becoming one with yours. He pulled away and you both greeted each other a 'Merry Christmas' as a couple. That was your first kiss taken from you and it tasted sweeter than wine.

 “I want to let you know that I’m actually your secret Santa. I may have come to the party without bringing my gift, but I made sure to tag you here along with me so you could appreciate my gift in person. It's me, I'm the gift itself and I'm already yours, Y/n." Did he just show you an aegyo? Gosh, you almost melted with how cute he is. Mark must have been blessed with all the charms in the world. He showed you a piece of paper with your name written on it. You don’t believe in destiny until you brought out your own paper and saw his name written on it.

 “I didn't know if Eunhee and Jackson has something to do with this but I’m your Secret Santa too. If this isn't destiny, then I don't know what is. But you can have my heart for Christmas, and I hope you'd take care of it from now on.” You showed him his name written on the paper and everything became irrelevant all of a sudden. As if floating on a zero-gravity dimension, you felt like a lifeless feather on thin air but your heart is betraying you by falling too deep for this guy. He's a one chance in a lifetime, an answered prayer from your last lifetime and your sweet serendipity.

  "Now that everything went the way I wanted it to be, I'm up for another trip this New Year's eve, on your birthday." Just when you thought you've been blessed with so much this year, there are actually a lot more surprises to come.

 "Jackson has told you a looot about me, even my birthday, and I'm not going to be surprised about that. Anyways, what about the trip?". He reached for your hand and you felt delicate in his grasp. Too weak and too fragile but your heart is full and that's the only thing that matters.

 "My father is the CEO of TUAN RESIDENTIAL, a US based real estate developer which also means we are your firm's newest client. I know this is the craziest coincidence on top of everything, but I just discovered it this morning when I saw your planner and read the details about the meetings you've attended in the past week. I find out that you're actually part of the accounting firm that we hired. With that, I want to formally introduce their Vice President, Mark Tuan. We're acquiring a domestic corporation here in Seoul so we could expand our own line of business here in Korea. Trust me, this looks like a prank but I guess fate will really find a way for us to cross paths together no matter what. But we aren't talking about work here. Instead, are you ready for another surprise? I'm taking you with me in the US ahead of New Year’s Eve so you could meet my father and discuss a little about the liquidation proceedings. And of course, my mom would love to meet the reason why her son traveled to the other side of the world. She'll be glad that his eldest son will finally bring a girl in the house. So be prepared, Y/n, because we're leaving in the next 24 hours.”

  and all this time you thought 'why are people too patient when they are waiting?' Simply because you wouldn't want to come under prepared if love suddenly comes along your way when you least expect it.

    “WHAT THE HELL! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, MARK??????”

   “Cool. I like girls who cuss a lot.”

[nan-drw]

This is not the India Mahatma Gandhi dreamt of when he began his Satyagraha.

This is not the India Babasaheb Ambedkar envisioned when he drafted the constitution.

AND this is definitely NOT the India I was born in!

These people, who claim to be the leaders of this once thriving nation, have managed to systematically annihilate the very spirit of its existence and democracy.

It all started out very normal, in 2014, the year BJP came into power and Narendra Modi took centre stage as Prime Minister, with a promise of 'good days'.

I don't know if the 'good days' ever arrived, but I made several observations.

Modi (of course) dished out a few fancy schemes. Mob lynchings and minority persecution became common. About 20 billion dollars were spent on foreign visits. The economy dwindled. Random rants about Pakistan. Demonetisation. Women were (are) being brutally raped and murdered. Laws were arbitrarily amended for the worse. Filmmakers were accused of 'hurting the Hindu sentiments' when it was clearly not the case. History textbooks and names of cities were changed for no reason. Farmers commited suicide. An entire state was detained. More rants about Pakistan. Detention camps (!) were built. Peaceful protestors were beaten black and blue. Politicians who opposed the government were (are) trolled for no reason. Pushing for a One-Party system. And worst of all, the media either slept through all of it, or was busy putting the central government on a pedestal for no apparent reason or achievement. Journalists who tried questioning the government were shot.

Despite all this, they got re-elected in the centre once again in 2019 and this time all hell broke loose, for the public could now see them for who they were, anti-democratic, anti-secular, extremist, divisive, Islamophobic, fascist brats!

In December 2019, the Citizenship Amendment Bill (now law) was passed. This law provides citizenship to anyone identified as being in India illegally, if they are from a non-muslim community (Hindus, Jains, Sikhs, Christians, Parsis, Buddhists) and originally from Pakistan, Bangladesh or Afghanistan. This act, clubbed with the National Register of Citizens is dangerous. Under NRC+CAA, millions of people have to present documents proving their Indian citizenship. If you're from a non muslim community and you do not have the required documents, then chill, you'll still be 'Indian'. But if you're a Muslim, you immediately lose your citizenship due to CAA and will be either deported or sent to detention camps. They carried out NRC in Assam and about 19 lakh people lost their Indian citizenship and were sent to concentration camps.

Also, it's not just about the Muslims. Think of the poor people. The illiterate people. The destitutes. The transgenders. The tribals. The people who DO NOT wish to be associated with any religion i.e. athiests. There are so many more.

Some of you might say, so what? Just show the documents and get it done, simple! NO. IT'S NOT THAT SIMPLE. IT'S NOT SIMPLE WHEN YOU HAVE TO PRESENT 60-70 YEAR OLD DOCUMENTS IN ORDER TO PROVE YOUR INDIANNESS. Also, do you REALLY think that every person carries the birth certificates, insurance policies and other documents of their ancestors? Think again.

I am a Muslim and I'm scared. For the first time in my life; I'm scared to be in my own skin, of my own identity. I'm afraid of calling myself an Indian. The possible outcomes of the implementation of NRC+CAA makes me shiver. Who knows, I'll be gone from the face of the earth. Or left to rot in a detention camp? Or something else?

Remember the last time concentration camps were built?I don't think I need to remind you of it.

BJP is a fascist part which rose to power largely because of its favour of 'Hindutva'  and follows the ideologies of the RSS. This includes the building of a Hindu state. A quick google search will tell you how impressed the RSS leaders and BJP fathers were with Hitler and supported his Nazi system.

These new laws are eerily similar to the Nuremberg laws and Reich Citizenship laws of Nazi Germany, which dictated who all were eligible to be Reich citizens. It excluded Jews, the same way the CAA excludes Muslims. All of it was done (is being done) legally following constitutional norms by those in power. The Nuremberg laws were, in many ways, the beginnings of Genocide against the Jews.

With the Citizenship Amendment Act, Modi and Co. Is trying to bring the system in India too. It's a step towards their dream of a 'Hindu state'. The act is fundamentally discriminatory in nature, undermines the constitutional right to equality and discriminates on the grounds of religion. Also, now that everyone is after NRC CAA, nobody is asking the real questions, about the state of the economy, the rising prices, the never ending crimes against women...the list goes on.

A genocide against the Muslims is well underway in India.

Ever since the bill was passed by the parliament, students of the Jamia Millia Islamia University, Delhi have been actively involved in peacefully protesting against it. They've been joined by students from educational institutions all over India, plus the general public, who understand what this new law really is. The BJP has been trying hard to stop and discredit these protestors. The police, acting on Modi and Co's orders is resorting to extreme violence in order to stop the students and protestors. The police have open fired on the students, molested the female ones, sprayed tear gas and beaten students mercilessly(many have ended up in hospitals with broken bones, injuries, one guy lost an eye). They are provoking the peaceful protestors to resort to violence and then putting them in jail for crimes they did not commit. BJP, and their blind supporters (bhakts) are spreading fake news through their social media and labelling the protestors terrorists. The government has shut down internet and other modes of communication in several parts of the country, the whole state of Assam has blacked out. We don't know what's happening there.

Now we understand what Kashmiris have been going through. Cut out from the rest of the world (since almost 140 days, a record for any democracy), under constant watch of the military, stripped off their basic human rights and what not!? We are sorry Kashmir, we failed you.

I salute the protestor's spirits, they haven't lost hopes or taken backfoot because of the violence instigated against them by the police; they've stuck to their cause and are responding with almost superhuman strength! I pray for them all day.

If you are reading this, please spread this! Tell about the situation of India to everyone. Raise awareness. Be respectful in disagreements but demolish opposing arguments using pure logic. Stand united! If you can, participate in the protests. If you're already doing it, kudos to you! Remember, DO NOT RESORT TO VIOLENCE. If you're outside India, please help us and tell people about this state of affairs in India. Educate people about the ill effects of this law. Please! I request you please help us! We need to show these fascists the power of the people. We cannot just silently stand by as Modi and Co make a joke of our constitution and morals! This cannot, and should not continue!!! This is not about being a Muslim, Hindu, Christian, Sikh or Jain or Parsi, it's not even about being political, it's about being an Indian! It's about being a human.

....And now, coming to the Ostriches, those who have their heads buried in the ground, those who are pretending there's nothing wrong happening in the country right now, those who think that NRC+CAB are not anti-national, those who are still supporting the BJP, those who are silent because they don't want to make political statements, I have only one thing to say to you; when we are silenced, I hope you regret being silent.

From the Quran-

And never think that Allah is unaware of what the wrongdoers do. He only delays them for a day when all the eyes will stare, in horror...

[shoryubug]

Standing Up. Chapter 2: Andre Glacier

Ahhhh so it's been a while, and my laptop got back to me today...but I'm not feeling that great D: plus with everyone around me assuming it's the big plague going around (when in fact I don't interact with other humans so it's very much indeed just a dang cold), I haven't been in the best of moods to write...but I did promise as soon as I could that I'd get Standing Up continued, so I hope you guys don't hold it against me! Tumblr: Chapter 1, 2 (here), and Ao3 (for registered users).

Alya was always doing this kind of thing, pushing her ideas and thoughts and plans aside...it wasn’t just hers either. Continually she’d been witness to Alya doing the very same thing to Nino, and it was frustrating. It didn’t matter that it had just happened, Marinette wanted to stop thinking about it, so after stomping her way over to Rose and Juleka who were both outside the school gates, she wasn’t exactly angry, that would be too simple, she was more irritated. The fact that Alya continually railroaded her time and time again was frustrating, and the worst part was that it was getting to the point that Nadja Chamack wasn’t willing to trust her as much as a babysitter, so all the spare money that she was earning before was now reduced heavily, due to every instance that Alya was around both her and Manon.

"So Marinette, we got a trailer for Juleka’s bike so that we can all go to Canal Saint-Martin for the photographs, Luka said he’d meet us at your place so that we can all ride down there together because he found a place that we can all change in!" Rose gushed as Marinette had felt a wave of peace wash over her for a moment.

"Yeah, let’s just go to my place for all of it!" she said cheerily as the three of them made their way to the bakery, Rose waited outside guarding the bike while Juleka and Marinette had gone inside to gather a few piles of clothing, three outfits for each Juleka, Rose, and Luka, and Marinette’s mind began to wander to Juleka’s older brother for a moment while the pair of them silently went down the various rows of stairs to dump the folded piles of clothing in the trailer.

Luka was definitely a godsend to her in these moments, and she didn’t know what she would have done without his support. She had given up everything she felt before for Adrien, to give him and Kagami a fair chance at being together, because they were both her friends, and they both were interested in each other, and they both deserved to be happy...even if it had meant that she had to sacrifice the potential of any future she might have wanted with him. That wasn’t as important as the happiness of two of her friends, no matter how much it hurt her in the end.

Marinette found herself to still be lucky to have the support of friends like Juleka, Rose, Luka, Mylene, Alix, Kim, Nino, and of course Tikki in the moments that she could feel the weight of that sadness pulling her down and she was grateful for it. Not a lot of people in the world had that kind of support.

"Wasn’t there also some jewelry you wanted us to model?" Rose asked, breaking Marinette from her reverie.

"Ah-umm, yes, but I wanted it to be a surprise so let me go get the box, and once you’re getting dressed in the outfits you can choose what jewelry you want to model!" Marinette stated, rushing back up the stairs to search her room for the three boxes of jewelry she had packed away, each labeled with her three models names affixed in permanent marker, written in the same fancy script as what was on the T&S bakery door before she made her way back down the stairs.

"So, since you’re getting us ice cream after I kind of wanted to bring something up…" Juleka stated as Marinette turned her gaze to the girl, setting the boxes in the trailer then zipping the casing up and turning her gaze to the girl.

"Oh yeah! I wanted to know too, but I’m going to ride ahead to meet Luka! Please let me know the answer Juleka! I’m really curious!" Rose’s sweet voice broke through as Marinette nodded, trying to follow along confused while Rose grabbed a helmet from the trailer and sped off like a speed-demon, making Alix’s speed craze look tame in comparison.

"So...you had a question?" Marinette offered as she looked up at Juleka, admiring the girl’s beautiful figure and face.

"Well...everyone is assuming that your new flavors are hinted at Luka...but the colors seem more like you yourself, don’t you think?" Juleka’s question lingered between the two of them for a moment as Marinette sighed.

"I don’t really know what to think...I try not to think about the ice cream...I know my dad proposed to my mom with a scoop of it, but...I think I lost my faith in it when Andre was akumatized because I didn’t want to eat it." Marinette admitted, giving Juleka a knowing look.

"Wait he was akumatized because you didn’t want to eat ice cream?" Juleka asked, perplexed "I thought it was because something else happened, that’s what everyone made it sound like!"

"Well...Mylene, Ivan, Alya, and Nino invited me and Adrien to go get ice cream with them...a couples thing I guess...but Adrien couldn’t go, and I was upset, so I felt like a fifth wheel to them, you know, two pairs of couples and one single person...and when they all went to get their ice cream, he kind of...tried to force me to take some myself, claiming that it would 'make my true love materialize'" she used air quotes at that. "And I was fooled for a second, into thinking that this boy was Adrien for a moment...but then I dropped my ice cream and my appetite was gone, so I told him as much...and he insisted on making another one, and...I kind of said that I didn't believe ice cream could bring true love...that ice cream was just ice cream...and I left...everyone kind of followed after but mostly I just wanted to be alone..." she stated with a sigh before shaking her head.

"Wow...it sounds a lot more like he was being a jerk," Juleka whispered, and Marinette sighed.

"I don't know...I shouldn't have overreacted the way that I did...but I didn't know what to do...he was a grown man, and he wound up getting akumatized over it...and I don't know how long it took him to find me, luckily for me Chat Noir was with me that night, or I might have been turned into an ice cream sculpture..." she stated, wrapping her arms around her frame.

"You were with Chat Noir that night? You know how funny it would be if he was your true love? I mean, your old colors kind of match his too." Juleka offered as Marinette burst out into a fit of giggles.

"Yeah, right, me and Chat Noir. That's the best joke I've ever heard!" Marinette managed through her fit of giggles, though aware in the back of her mind that even the possibility of her and Chat Noir together was the making of something catastrophic.

It figures that it would start with the word cat too, effectively making it a pun. Ugh.

she thought, before bouncing in her step trying to match Juleka's pace.

As they had finally gotten to their destination after a few more minutes of chit-chat that was more lighthearted, Juleka and Rose had gone off to one bathroom while Luka stood and waited in one of the new outfits that he was modeling for her, a smile plastered on his face the moment that she'd approached him, and as he was about to speak she held up a finger to silence him, her eyes raking over every detail before she went to the trailer of the bike and came back with a small sewing kit, quickly setting up a ladder stitch on the back of the coat, while it was still on him, then pulling the seam to make it better fitted to his form.

"That looks much better...you were about to say something though? I'm really sorry for interrupting!" she murmured before he shook his head and smiled wider at her.

"Nothing, it's always great to watch you when you're in your own mind, it's like watching a rickshaw in action, something you just can't peel your eyes from because it's intricacies are too alluring." His compliments set her cheeks ablaze for a moment. Leave it to Luka to make her blush. "Anyway Ma-ma-ma-Marinette, how have you been? Rose said you were having some trouble earlier." He patted the space beside him, beckoning her forward. "You can always talk to me if you need...or not talk, you know." His intense aquatic gaze made her feel at ease for a moment.

"It's...It's not that it's bad or anything it's just that...Alya keeps...pushing my buttons. I mean...before when she tried to invite herself to everything I had always thought it was just her trying to be a good friend, but today it just felt too intrusive. She tried to pull Adrien and Lila in too, and just disregarded me telling her no...it was just...too much." she stated, giving a sigh. "I know I probably shouldn't have gotten so angry about it, but I couldn't help it! I mean, she just wouldn't listen! Sometimes she's so stubborn that I just...want to scream at her!" Marinette felt her eyes beginning to water. "I guess I kind of did today though, huh? So much for keeping my cool..." it was then that she had felt Luka's arms around her, embracing her tightly, the warmth of his body spilling into her like an ocean meeting the sand.

"You don't deserve to have your plans stomped on by anybody Marinette...standing up to her was the best thing that you could have done in this situation, maybe now she'll start to understand that she needs to take your requests seriously," Luka stated before he pulled away and his gaze met his sister's who had quickly turned away as if she were caught up in an embarrassing moment...though there was nothing embarrassing about it. Intimate maybe, but not embarrassing.

"Thank you, Luka...I guess I really needed to hear that," she stated before wiping at her eyes.

The photoshoot had gone well, each of the three models posting around the various spaces that Marinette wanted them to while she took multiple high-resolution photos from her phone, which now had a special magnifying lens affixed to it. All in all the four of them had fun, them in making new poses and her in fixing things up, jokes all around between them, and it was one of the happier moments that Marinette had experienced in a while, full of laughter and joy.

"So now that we're all done, do you guys still want to go for ice cream?" Marinette offered, pointing out the Andre Glacier ice cream cart to the trio. Juleka and Luka had simultaneously shrugged while Rose's wide ocean eyes had somehow gotten wider.

"Yes! Ice cream sounds amazing! We should all get our own though if that's okay! I'm just not in a sharing mood!" Rose stated which had made Juleka burst out in laughter. All of them had made their way over to the ice cream cart where Rose and Juleka had gone first.

"We'd like some ice cream please!" Rose stated in earnest as Andre had looked the duo over.

"Strawberry for her darling smile, blackberry for her hair, and blueberry for your ocean blue stare! This shall keep your love together through any affair!" Andre sang out, scooping out the ice cream and putting a cherry and two-scoop spoons on top, to which Rose gave a disappointed look, taking the ice cream to share with Juleka, before Marinette pursed her lips while Luka approached, being gifted some ice cream himself, the same pink and blue colors that he and Marinette had often gotten before Marinette had gotten to Andre.

"I'll take one of each of the previous sets please," Marinette stated as Andre gaped at her then awkwardly laughed.

"Ah, pretty Marinette! You know how the ice cream is here---" he began before Marinette's gaze turned to steel while she looked directly into Andre's eyes.

"As I said, I'll take one of each of the previous two sets of ice cream please." Her voice was cold, anger seeped into her words.

"That isn't how I run this stand Marinette--"

"This isn't a practical way to run a business Andre." She snapped before grabbing two five euro bills and slamming them on his stand before stomping off, notably without ice cream as she made her way over to the trio that had made their way to the bike as Juleka had taken leave on it, to go drop off the clothing and jewelry at Marinette's and the trailer at Rose's. Luka himself had been there with Rose who shrugged about it, though Marinette only sighed.

"So...do you wanna share?" Luka offered as Marinette shook her head 'no'.

"I'm fine...thank you though. I'm not really in the mood for ice cream...I was hoping Andre would be understanding, but apparently, he isn't." She murmured, as the first time that she'd gotten ice cream with her friends replayed in her mind for the second time that day. Irritation laced that memory, just as it had infected her formerly happy mood. "I think I'm gonna head home...actually...thank you guys for today, and let Juleka know that I'll get her some pastries for breakfast tomorrow to make up for what happened with Andre today..." Marinette offered as Luka nodded, Rose softly sighed.

"It's just too bad...I don't like this ice cream much now..." Rose whispered. "I think I might just go get it from stores from now on! You get more for your money in them!" Rose offered, joyously.

"That sounds like a plan to me!" Marinette stated. "I hope you guys have a great rest of the day! I've gotta study for this Friday's test in physics, I'll see you guys later!" She stated as she began to make her way home, no doubt to hear about how rude she'd been that day from Tikki, and get a lecture from her kwami...which she wasn't in the mood for.

@spicybelladonna @vixen-uchiha @doglover82 @captainmac6 @my-name-is-michell @schrodingers25 @mewwitch @princertain @geminikessa @legallyspawned @falling-electricxangel @miraculous-mango @novicevoice

[darknessisafriend]

Can I request y/n and Joaquin at the oscars since he just won, please? :) 💕

I LOVE SO MUCH ANON

OMG his speech was to damn beautiful and moving, I’m so proud of him and he and Rooney were just so cute together *_* 

Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction inspired by what we see of these people, I do not claim to know them nor to establish this work as the truth about their personal lives, the realities might be completely different.

River would be so proud

Today was the big day; the day where Joaquin was going to be officially recognized for his work. You knew your boyfriend was going to win, he was receiving so much support from the critics, fellow actors and the internet that you were sure of it; and to be honest, you were probably among his biggest fans and you thought he should have won an Oscar for Gladiator already and even more for Walk the line.  

As for your boyfriend, he didn´t really believe he would win and as the ceremony got closer, his anxiety rose, you knew how uncomfortable he felt and you wished you could take that away; he was pacing in the living room fixing his cufflinks.

“I don't see why I would win when the others did such amazing performances...look at Adam he was so fuckin´ heartbreaking!” he maintained, you stopped him, encircling your arms around his waist.

“Rain was right when she said you had such a strong inner critic.” you smiled as you stood on your toes to kiss his lips, he laughed at your comment and closed again the gap between your mouths, his kiss was tender, loving, you open your mouth to let his tongue in, gently caressing yours; as you ran out of air, you rested your forehead against his, smiling happily.  

“I suddenly feel like staying here tonight...” he flirted against your lips, you chuckled, opening your eyes to look at him tenderly.

“Let’s save that for the after party, it will be even better...” you suggested on the same tone before separating from him, the driver was already waiting outside.  

Joaquin sighed as the car approached the red carpet, it was going to be a long night. Joaquin came out first and walked to the other side of the car to open to you, your eyes met briefly, encouraging each other; as soon as you got out of the car the flashes of the photographs bombarded you, of course they wanted a picture of the Oscars favorite with his date, this was probably the phase you hated the most, for at least 30 minutes you both will have to pose and smile while getting blinded by all those flashes, and you were also uncomfortable with being taken in picture. You felt Joaquin´s hand around your waist, at least you were close to him, you also rested your hand on his back, gently rubbing circles to soothe him as you both posed for more photos.

“I can´t wait for this to be over...” he muttered as you walked towards the entrance of the theatre, you laughed.

“And I can´t wait to sit down, those heels are so damn uncomfortable.” you added smiling at the journalists, you were so used to wear sneakers that heels always became a torture after a few minutes.  

You finally arrived inside and went to your assigned seats which were close the stage, in case Joaquin would win; you sighed pleased to be seated and far from all those flashes. You looked at your boyfriend and entwinned your fingers with his, he gave you a trembling smile, you understood his nervousness.

“It will be alright” you told him, and it was the truth, in any case it will be alright; if he wins his speech will be thoughtful and altruistic as always and if he doesn´t win then nothing will change, not his talent, his career or your love for him. You felt him squeeze your hand in response.

“Thank you, for being here with me.” he cooed looking at you enamored.  

The ceremony finally started and you were having a good time, each presenter was entertaining the performances were truly beautiful and positive, it reminded you of those at the Bafta´s.  

Until it was finally, the moment to announce the winner of the Oscar for Best Actor performance. You felt nervousness built in your chest, you wanted him to win; Joaquin didn´t move, as if he was frozen on his seat in anticipation. Olivia Colman entered on stage, holding the envelop, you actually felt like your heart was going to exploded in your chest as she spoke and made jokes, the suspense was just unbearable.

“And the Oscar goes to...Joaquin Phoenix for Joker.” she finally announced, the pressure suddenly lifted from your chest, you felt like jumping and cheering in the whole room, you excitedly looked at your lover, he couldn’t believe he had actually won, and you knew that secretly he felt blessed by such honor; you gave his arm a squeeze to encourage him as he had to go on stage.

He quickly got up and headed to the micro on stage, he took the famous statuette in his hands, you pinched your lips together, your heart swollen with happiness, gosh you were so proud of him. The audience was clapping and cheering ready to give him a long standing ovation.

“No, stop.” he started, you knew he hated to be praised like that, and standing in front of so many people could only add more to his anxiety right now.

“God I’m full of so much gratitude right now...” he spoke his voice shaking, all the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he acknowledged his fellow nominees.

“But the greatest gift that it’s been giving me, and many of us in this room is the opportunity to use our voice for the voiceless” he paused, his voice slightly trembling with the emotion of the moment, you didn’t know what he planned to say in his speech, he had decided to think about it all by himself and keep it as honest as he could.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about some of the distressing issues that we have been facing collectively and I think at times we feel or may to feel that we champion different causes but for me I see commonality, I think whatever we’re talking about gender inequality or racism or queer rights or indigenous rights or animal rights we’re talking about the fight against injustice...”  you nodded; he was right.

“We’re talking about the fight against the belief that one nation, one people, one race, one gender or one species has the right to dominate, control and use and exploit another with impunity” he continued with conviction, you couldn’t help but join the audience in their applause, he was so right, he always had such peaceful and loving approach, preferring to join forces rather than confront points of views that were in the end similar in their struggle, his speech was truly beautiful, covering so much of the current fights but also praising the beauty of humanity; this was the real Joaquin, always so honest and caring, you couldn’t stop smiling.

Then he paused, his eyes searched the room, there was something more he wanted to add, and somehow you felt his emotions and understood that he was going to talk about his brother River, you knew it was still something very hard to talk about for him.

“I just...I want to...” you felt tears coming to your eyes as he struggled to speak, you could see on the giant screen the tears in his eyes “when...when he was seventeen Riv...my brother wrote this lyric, he said run to the rescue with love and peace will follow; thank you.” he finished on the verge of tears, you blinked yours away, he had managed to say it even though it was very hard for him.

As soon as he disappeared backstage, you got up and headed there to, you couldn´t wait to congratulate him and above all you wanted to hold him in your arms, he had been so brave, so strong to stand for what he believes in but also to talk about his dear brother.

You finally saw him among all the people backstage, he looked lost in his thoughts, until he noticed someone coming in his direction and the second he recognized you, he closed the gap between the two of you, almost collapsing in your arms, he embraced you tightly, your hand went up to caress his curls, you could feel his heart beating fast against your chest.

“I´m so proud of you Joaquin, I´m so happy, you deserve it, truly” you murmured in his ear between the kisses you placed on his jaw.  

“I miss him so much.” he gulped against your skin. You felt his tears wet your skin, he was crying, so you kept holding him in your arms, gently rubbing circles against his back until his cries calmed down, he lifted his head, meeting your eyes, he was so grateful to have you by his side.  

“River would be so proud of you, I´m sure he´s up there celebrating with a big smile on his face” you told your boyfriend, looking at him deep in the eyes, his eyes were wet but full of happiness, and a smile started to form on his lips.

“With all this shit I´m famished now” he joked trying to lighten the mood, drying his cheeks with his palm, you gave him a loving kiss, caressing his cheek.

“Well, that´s great because I´ve heard they made delicious vegan burgers” you winked before taking his hand to head to get them, the both of you happily laughing and eager the continue the night with his family.

Joaquin lovers list:  @oneeightysecond   @arcticmonkais    @amourtiara @sirianfromsixties         @sweetness-doesnt-touch-my-face   @live-love-loki   @lyoongx  @skaravile   @jaylovesbats @niniitha-ah @cumberbitching @dirrtyginger @valentina15                                                                                                               

[rachelkaser]

Stay Golden Sunday: Job Hunting

Rose loses her job at the grief center and faces ageism when she searches for a new one. Blanche tries to lose three pounds.

Picture It...

Blanche is cutting vegetables while singing “Sleep, Kentucky Babe.” Sophia comes in (not wearing her glasses, for some reason) and is upset to see there’s no pepperoni in the fridge. She rejects both Blanche’s offer of celery stuffed with cottage cheese and Dorothy’s offer of chicken, as both repeat on her. Blanche, meanwhile, is trying to lose three extra pounds she’s gained.

Rose comes in, distraught (Sophia is, once again, indifferent), and tells the Girls that they’ve closed her grief counseling center. Blanche and Dorothy are immediately concerned that Rose has lost her job, but Rose is more worried about the fact that her former patients won’t have anyone to counsel them anymore. She says she plans to help them find other places to go, and then she’ll focus on finding a job. Dorothy is skeptical.

ROSE: I’m dependable, friendly, loyal, eager. *leaves the kitchen* DOROTHY: That’s great. If she learns to catch a frisbee in her teeth, she can get work as a Golden Retriever.

Later, Dorothy goes out to the lanai to read, and finds a strange man sitting there. He introduces himself as Milton, and Rose arrives to say that Milton is one of her former patients from the center, and even tells Dorothy his whole life story right in front of him. She sends him off and tells him to call her anytime, day or night -- the last three words sending Dorothy into a panic.

Dorothy confronts Rose about her job hunt and Rose says she hasn’t started looking, too preoccupied with helping the center’s patients. Sophia passes her phone messages from the patients and Dorothy gets one from an old high school acquaintance she had a crush on named Barry Glick. He’s visiting Miami and wants to get together, which sends Dorothy over the moon. Rose is drowning in her patients’ despair off to the side.

BLANCHE: I hate phone calls in the middle of the night! Now I’ll never get back to sleep. I’m as jumpy as a virgin at a prison rodeo. DOROTHY: Boy, that’s … pretty jumpy.

Dorothy bangs on Rose’s door that night to wake her, as Milton is calling in the wee hours. Blanche and Dorothy, irritated, retreat to the living room, where Sophia is sitting in the dark, and grouse about the situation -- Blanche has already lost one pound and doesn’t want to eat her insomnia, while Dorothy wants to look good for Barry. They decide to confront Rose, and sit her down when she comes out and tell her she needs to focus on finding a job. Rose tearfully confesses she has been trying to find one, but she’s been rejected after several interviews for her age. Distraught, she runs to her room and slams the door.

Dorothy and Blanche follow Rose to her room to talk to her about the situation. Dorothy tells her she’s recovered from a major life change once, after her husband died and left her as a housewife with no work experience. Rose says she’s older now, and Dorothy offers to help her figure out what she’s doing wrong in the interviews. Rose says she’s got one in the morning for a Hospital Administrator job, and Dorothy reviews her resume -- which stinks. She and Blanche find ways to pad the resume out, giving Rose some more confidence. Unable to fall back asleep, all three go to the kitchen for a snack.

BLANCHE: Oh I can’t fall asleep now. DOROTHY: Still at the rodeo, Blanche? ROSE: I can’t sleep either. Why don’t I make us all some warm milk? After I drink milk, I go right to sleep. BLANCHE: I can think of something else after which I go right to sleep. Huh, Dorothy? DOROTHY: … during.

In the kitchen, they somehow justify getting a three-course meal on the table, including our very first shared cheesecake (and Sophia’s precious pepperoni). Dorothy talks about her date with Barry, and how she wanted him to be her first lover. This leads into a lengthy discussion about their first lovers -- Stan was Dorothy’s, Charlie was Rose’s, and Someone-Whose-Name-Starts-With-B was Blanche’s. Rose’s first time was her wedding night, and she was appalled because she’d never seen a naked man before. Stan convinced Dorothy he was being shipped to Korea and “it would mean so much” and nine months later she gave birth. Rose not-so-subtly hints it took years for her to orgasm during sex, and Blanche is completely baffled, as her Southern heat gave her urges. The Girls transition from a full dinner to a full breakfast.

The next day, Blanche flirts with Milton on the lanai. He tells her to abandon her diet and they agree to a date later. Sophia comes out on the lanai, followed shortly by Dorothy, who says her date with Barry went very well. Blanche wants to know if he lives up to her high school fantasies, but Dorothy replies in the negative: Barry is gay. Sophia claims she’s always known that. Dorothy says at least no other woman can have him either.

SOPHIA: *about Milton* I thought he belonged to the other one. BLANCHE: Well I’m sure Rose won’t mind one bit. SOPHIA: He’s a man. It’s not like sharing a yogurt.

Rose joins them, all smiles. She didn’t get the hospital admin job, but she did find a job when she was out for a float after her failed interview: She’s now a waitress at a coffee shop. It’s not the job Blanche and Dorothy wanted for her, but at least she’ll be working and earning money. They congratulate her. Blanche asks Rose about Milton, and Rose says he’s just her client -- she could never date him, as he’s only interested in fat woman. The episode ends on Blanche’s furious face.

“Hell, if I’m gonna have cookies, I’m gonna have cheesecake!”

Usually, I’m on board with a Golden Girls Very Special Episode when it tackles relevant issues, but something about this episode -- ostensibly one about ageism in the job market -- just doesn’t land particularly well. I didn’t really love it as a child, and I don’t really love it as an adult, but I think it’s for entirely different reasons. I suspect there was some behind-the-scenes drama about this episode I haven’t been able to fully investigate, but suffice to say this episode is a throwback to the beginning of the season, when the show was much less certain of itself. That said, it’s saved from two-slice infamy by some very good lines and gags.

BLANCHE: You probably haven’t noticed it, but I’ve put on three pounds. SOPHIA: On each side.

I’m still not sure why I didn’t like it as a kid -- I think the fact that Sophia, who was my favorite, is in so little of the episode was part of it. Sophia’s role in this episode is basically to make weird remarks and hover on the periphery -- literally in the case of the living room and lanai scenes -- of the episode and make the occasional bon mot. She’s not in the extended kitchen scene where the Girls eat their way through a three-course meal (we’ll get back to that scene in a minute), so I think I was puzzled why this episode forgot about her.

As an adult, I can pinpoint a few more concrete reasons I’m not in love. Keep in mind I’m biased, as I was recently laid off and back on the job market, but I suspect that Rose’s problem might not be ageism. I’m not trying to be mean here, but the problem might be that Rose is trying to find a job with a community college degree and a 32-year gap in work history, and the fact that the episode doesn’t really seem to understand that is a little disconcerting.

ROSE: They closed the center. BLANCHE: Not your grief counseling center? DOROTHY: No, the Kennedy Space Center. She wanted to be the first Lutheran on the Moon.

I don’t plan to fully talk about the episode before the official SGS, but I think it’s necessary to fully give context here: Rose will get another episode based around age discrimination in the job market in Season 5 called “Rose Fights Back.” Suffice to say I think it’s much better than this one, because at least in that episode it makes it clear that the only reason Rose is having problems is because of people’s reaction to her age. But this episode is much less clear, and in fact, based on the one job we see Rose actually applying for, I think she may be aiming a little high here.

To be clear, you can do alright with a Home-Ec degree and business training. There are a lot of jobs you can reasonably get with those qualifications. “Hospital Administrator” isn’t one of them, and Dorothy’s attempts to fluff up Rose’s resume don’t do anything but draw attention to the huge gaps in her work history. “32 years with the same employer?” There is not an interviewer in the world who won’t ask which employer that is, and who is Rose supposed to say? Her husband?

I know I wasn’t alive in the 80s, but I refuse to believe it was so alien a time that someone with Rose’s qualifications would be able to get that job. Heck, if she lived in the modern day, getting a job at the Fountain Rock coffee shop would be a coup.

There are also a few continuity errors in this episode: For starters, Charlie goes from having died 15 years ago to 5 years ago. Rose will later get be a grief counselor with no explanation. I guess it’s possible that she could have gotten another job in the same field, but it’s still jarring that she’s a waitress for all of five minutes.

DOROTHY: I am so glad that my date with Barry is tomorrow. The fat won’t have time to show. ROSE: It won’t? DOROTHY: No, it always takes a few days before it shows. ROSE: Where does it go in the meantime? DOROTHY: To Connecticut! How do I know where it goes? BLANCHE: With me, the minute it goes in my mouth, I balloon up. I can go out to dinner, and in the middle of the meal, my pants are cutting off my circulation so bad my feet are turning blue.

I don’t want to be a Negative Nancy, so I’ll add that everything in this episode is saved by the excellent jokes and lines. Some of the most iconic lines and exchanges happen in this episode, so it’s memorable for that reason alone. The best parts are probably Blanche’s enraged reaction faces, as seen in the image at the top. Also, when I discovered that this was actually the second episode filmed, that explained an awful lot -- for example, why this episode doesn’t balance all four actresses well, why the writing doesn’t feel as concise, and all the continuity errors. Even the way the episode looks makes sense after learning that little tidbit.

As much as I like that scene in the kitchen where the Girls talk about their romantic history -- and also eat their first cheesecake together! -- it really has very little to do with the rest of the episode, and it takes up quite a chunk of time. I guess that’s why I don’t consider this a Very Special Episode: The tone is just a bit too inconsistent. Five minutes after Rose is lamenting that she can’t find a job because of her age, and she’s talking about how it took her five years to have an orgasm with her husband. A different kind of tragedy, to be sure.

BLANCHE: You know, in the South, we mature faster. I think it’s the heat. DOROTHY: I think it’s the gin.

I can’t be certain, but I think there was some behind-the-scenes drama with director Paul Bogart, who was fired shortly after this episode was shot. I can only find a couple of references to this episode in Golden Girls Forever, one of which calls it “troubled.” Don’t take my word as gospel, but it’s what I suspect happened. Bogart was liked by Rue McClanahan and Bea Arthur, but didn’t direct Rose’s character very well, according to Betty White. He wanted her to yell and scream during her big moment, which wasn’t very Rose, but she tried until Jay Sandrich, director of the pilot, took her aside and told her to do it how she felt comfortable. Bogart apparently told the staff (including the writers): “Just give me the show in the beginning of the week, and by the end of the week, you’ll have an Emmy winner.” That boast did not go over well, especially since he didn’t really include the writers or the hands-on producers, and he only directed four episodes.

One last thing: The kitchen scene in this episode was expanded and adapted for the 1988 Royal Variety Performance. In adapting this, they got smart and gave Estelle Getty lines to say. Not only do you get to hear Sophia tell the very posh emcee, “Let’s find a pub and get drunk,” you also get to hear Blanche make her usual joke about watching the changing of the guard. I’ve heard it was the Queen Mother who requested them, as she was a fan. Not only can you see her meeting the Girls backstage, but Sophia even references her when leaving the stage: “Hey, just because you’re over 80 doesn’t mean you can’t go out on the town at night. Just ask that fine-looking lady up there in the expensive seats.”

Episode rating: 🍰🍰🍰 (three cheesecake slices out of five)

Favorite part of the episode:

Sophia’s line, which I’ve quoted more times than I can count:

DOROTHY: Ma, would you get Rose some water? SOPHIA: What is she gonna do with water? Has water ever made you feel better when you were upset? Have you ever heard anyone say, “Thank God, the water’s here?”

[maple-writes]

WHG 14: Behind the Scenes (Ginger)

whg tag list: @ratracechronicler @concealeddarkness13 (Thanks for Triel!!), @nightskywriter , @rhikasa , @the-moving-finger-writes , @aeslin-writes @knmartinshouldbewriting , @pen-of-roses @timefirewrites 

###

The college had been quiet, muted, since the reaping. Not many of the regular students would have known Asher yet, but at this point much of the faculty did and he would have started working along teaching staff the next coming semester. No one really seemed to want to say very much about it, but I could feel the way they looked at me, when we spoke of everyday business and they walked a line between ignoring the obvious and trying to express their sympathies. I’d overheard students talking too, about Cirrus. He’d only been working at the campus convenience store for a few months, but now that he was gone… It was hard not to notice the absence of the seemingly unfriendly and blunt cashier who would sometimes cover the cost of their cheap coffee when they looked like they were having a particularly rough time. Not to mention how now, whenever Millie took his place she didn’t smile anymore.

Charlotte’s office was open, the door ajar, but still I gave a couple knocks before poking my head in. She looked up from her desktop computer, surprise crossing her face as I slipped inside and closed the door.

“Ginger,” She greeted me as I pulled over a spare chair to sit in front of her desk. “I wasn’t expecting you, what’s going on?”

I crossed one leg over the over and leaned forward in my chair. Best to just get straight to the point. “I’m thinking of attempting to rescue Asher and Cirrus.”

Charlotte tensed, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed tight. “What? Ginger I don’t think that’s possible. I know how hard this must be for you, but I don’t know about this.” She sighed, leaning back in her chair, exhausted. “Why don’t you take some time off? You can have my cabin for a week or two if you like.”

She looked like she could use it more, but I stored that away for later. “Hear me out. There’s rumour I’m not the only one who wants to snag tributes from the games. Remember the games a year or two ago, how there were rumours of something going on behind the scenes?”

I paused, but Charlotte seemed confused. Maybe she didn’t remember, or maybe those rumours weren’t as widespread as I thought.

“Well,” I continued. “Some people think there was a successful escape, and some tributes who are officially dead were among the escapees.” If it were true, it was genius really. How would the Capitol explain if they were to start searching to people who they’d told everyone died in the games? “So what I’m saying, is that it’s not an impossible feat.”

Charlotte paused, thinking. Then she shook her head. “That’s a lot to bet on rumour.”

I rested my cheek on a propped-up hand. “Oh absolutely. One hundred percent.” I smiled, wide enough the points of my fangs just barely showed under pink lipstick. “Which is why I’ve set up a meeting with someone who claims to be attempting to pull it off again. I’ll ask some questions, get a sense of legitimacy, and we’ll see how it goes.”

“I’m not so sure about this…”

“Oh, I’m not asking permission. I just wanted you to know what was going on and why I might be gone for a little while.” I shifted, crossing my legs the other way with a wave of my hand. “After all the work we’ve done with him, after all he’s been through, doesn’t it seem like injustice to let him go without a challenge?”

She sighed, closing her eyes and massaging at the side of head. I didn’t expect she would like the idea, and I’d almost decided against telling her anything at all, but she deserved to know.

Something clunked in the corner as her office printer whirred to life. Charlotte turned in her chair, watching as it spat out a single piece of paper. She plucked it from the tray, read it, then slid it across her desk to me.

Ginger’s right. Besides, I liked having him around.

Warmth brushed across my arm like a summer breeze, barely noticeable if I didn’t know what it meant as Cynthia settled in beside the wall. The founder’s late daughter had seemed to have taken a shine to him ever since his enrollment.

“Thanks you Cynthia.” I grinned at Charlotte. “Looks like even if you did have a say you’re outnumbered anyway.

“There’s no way I can change your mind, is there?” Charlotte gave a reluctant smile. “I wish you luck, you’re going to need it.”

##

This had to be the right place, a small, quiet bar mostly out of the way from too many eyes. At this time of day there didn’t seem to be too much traffic. I paused in the foyer, searching until I found a woman with a large hat and long coat seated at the bar. She looked to be well past a drink or two. She had to be my contact.

I shouldered my purse and made my way towards her. “Are you Triel, by any chance?”

She turned with a wide grin and a tip of her hat. “The one and only. Have a seat. Drink’s on me.”

How sweet. I smiled and took one of the stools beside her. “Thank you for the offer but I’ll just steal one of your empty glasses if that’s alright.” I set my purse down and dug out my pink leopard print bottle. “Not that I don’t trust you, it’s just been a long time since I’ve been able to handle this stuff.”

“What ever works for you.” Triel shrugged. “So, you wanted o discuss a proposition you had?”

I smiled. “Wonderful.” I slid her glass towards me and filled it about halfway with chilled blood. Maybe it would be best to keep things vague for now, just in case. “I hear there’s plans to do something interesting, so to speak, during the games this year, is this true?”

Triel tipped her hat down like a drawn curtain over her face. “I want to get as many tributes as I can out of the arena. I have an airship and a genius engineer who has made machines that keep us invisible to the eye and to the Capitol’s radars. You want in?”

“Wow, you really are prepared!” Thank goodness. If this had been a dead end, it would be over. I took a drink and nodded. “I’m in if you’ll take me. What do you still need?”

For a moment, Triel only watched, looking me up and down. “An alibi. A way to make a clean escape. Even if we avoid all of the Capitol’s eyes, they’ll know if was us pretty quickly. It’s too big of a heist to hide well. At least, unless we have something that proves we weren’t there. Do you know of anything that could help? If not, I won’t reject you from joining. We always need extra hands, especially with the amount of tributes we’ll be rescuing who will probably be injured. It’s a small hope that we’ll make a clean getaway.”

“An alibi eh?” I rested my cheek on my hand. An alibi… “How many heads are we talking about here?”

“Sixteen tributes. Ten people on my crew, not including whoever you’re bringing in with you like I said, a big heist.”

She wasn’t kidding. “I wonder…”I dug through my purse until I found my planner, flipping through to this month. Not a whole lot planned. I flipped back to last month, and my notes from the last faculty meeting. Charlotte had suggested we branch out and be more a part of the community at large. Other departments sometimes put on public lecture series, and she’d once suggested I think of doing something similar.

“What if I hold a seminar or something like that, one that for all intents and purposes you all attended for the entire duration? It could be entry level, maybe even open to non-students, I could label it as public outreach and education.” I closed the notebook and slipped it back into my purse with a smile. “I’m sure I can convince a few old students to attend and back up the claim you all didn’t just arrive for a photo at the end.” Whether or not they knew Asher, at least a few of them could probably be convinced if I could track them down. Luckily for me the students sent my way usually tended to be the, well, unorthodox type to say the least.

Triel smiled back. “That sounds fabulous. I can even lead two of my crew to be there and pretend like we passed notes back and forth the whole time. They’re great at forging writing.” She smirked and leaned back, downing the rest of her drink in one go. “Even though it will be unfortunate I can’t attend your lecture, since you’re so cute.” She held out a hand. “I think this proposition will work.”

I shook her hand with a grin. So she was clever and charming. This plot was in good hands. “Maybe I’ll record it then, just for you.”

She laughed, holding her empty glass in a toast. “A capital idea.” She smiled, as if to her own joke. “We can work out the details in a more private setting. I am happy for you to join this heist.”

Good, I was in. After a brief goodbye, I slipped out back into the quiet street. Should I tell Charlotte? No, the less she knew the better. If she knew what I was up to, and somehow word got to Striker who knew if she’d be able to keep him from trying to track me down. He had far more to lose than I did and I intended to keep him in the dark as long as I could. In fact… I found my phone and pulled up his contact info. I could memorize it by morning, and then delete his number, anything I could think of. I should probably get rid of Charlottes information too. It could always be replaced.

[kiliinstinct]

Closure - Nalu One-Shot for Cutest-Celestial-Princess

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Prompt: Nalu - Set After the Alvarez War, but before Lucy finishes her book- she and Natsu have an unspoken issue still simmering beneath the surface. Series: Fairy Tail Rated: General/Teen Commissioner: @cutest-celestial-princess Word Count: 5239

-----

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

It opened the path to dreams and fears Natsu thought he had shoved deep inside to rot and be forgotten. 

“There’s this really good job, and it’s out farther than I’ve traveled before; I think it’s a good chance to find Aquarius!”

How could something sound so positive and be so horrible all at once?

“Awesome! Let’s get Happy and go already!”

“Uhmm… about that…”

The fire in his belly was drenched to soaking embers with the fewest of words. 

“You’re not coming with me.”

Just a few months after the war. A few months of tepid peace, rebuilding and settling down into a pattern many hadn’t enjoyed in what felt like years. The Alvarez War was not a long one. It would not go down in the history books as a 100 years war, but the survivors certainly felt aged. Time slowly crawled away, eroding the burdens and worries with tiny chips from a well-worn chisel. Many Guild Members fell back to their routine as if nothing had changed. 

Others… looked upon the rest of their life with a newfound goal. Lucy had been hiding away in her apartment, diligently writing every chance she could. When she wasn’t, Lucy was at the guild, staring at the newly added Job postings with an intensified interest. Many times Natsu offered for them to head out, leave Magnolia for a few jobs- revert back to a pattern they could be comfortable with. 

She denied them each time. At one point, Happy even claimed she was ‘avoiding’ them, and while that thought forced a frown from Natsu, Lucy had denied it fervently.  However, seeing her eyes gleam, excitement pulling just beneath the surface, threatening to explode while fingers all but pinched and crinkled the request in her hands, Natsu realized the truth. 

Lucy wasn’t avoiding- she was planning. 

“Hah- good one Lucy,” He forced out, laughing at what he hoped to be a joke, “But we’re always a team, and teams go together!”

Her silence screamed volumes. Shoulders tensed under the weight of his own arm as Natsu leaned on her, desperately trying to find the lie in her words. There was none.  Sheepishly, she pulled away from his proximity, guilt suffusing her features now that he could look at her better. Folding the request, Lucy stuffed it in her purse, bottom lip pulling beneath her teeth as she nibbled worriedly against it. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They were a team, now more than ever! Even if Erza, Gray or Wendy didn’t come along (but of course they should if available-), they were supposed to do all their jobs together! Isn’t that what things were culminating to for all these years? Didn’t Lucy used to wait for him to be ready for jobs so they could go together? Didn’t he and Happy always find the ones with rewards that would best help her with her rent? That was how things went, and how he had always expected them to go. 

“I’m not kidding.” Her tercid tone froze him better than Gray’s ice ever could, smile dropping as he stared.  Natsu could hear the tapping of her foot against the hardwood, echoing above the den of chatter in the hall. If he hadn’t been distracted by the strange words falling from her mouth, he would have noticed all present were creening their heads over, desperately trying to listen in. 

“I want to do this for me.” Lucy pressed on, sighing as if all her earlier willpower had drained. “I’ve already talked to my landlady about it and she’s willing to put a stop to my rent payments. Just as long as I do a downpayment before leaving. I can do that. And then I won’t have to worry for months!”

Months? She was talking as if- Natsu’s mouth felt dry and a low whine escaped him, “You’re talkin’ like this job is gonna take ya’ forever, Lucy-”

“It is!” Lucy snapped, pointing a finger at him, “No offense, Natsu, but my world does NOT revolve around you. I have goals, plans! And I intend to see them through. This job isn’t supposed to take a long time, but it’s in a good place to search for Aquarius and that’s exactly what I intend to do! Alone.”

The icy tone in her voice was throwing him off. Why did she sound so bitter, so angry? There were many reasons Natsu could come up with (all revolving around the separation she suffered from breaking her key), but not a single one explained the treatment he was currently getting. Had he… done something to upset her?

Eyes glanced to the telltale marks of an old corruption spidering up her arm and Natsu’s stomach churned. Though Gray had protected her from the Book of E.N.D. the slight hints of damage were still there. While he didn’t want to consider how his own weakness could have caused those damages, Natsu was realizing that maybe he had more to own up to. 

“Look, Lucy, I-” how could he even explain this uncomfortable feeling in his chest? She was strong enough to take care of herself, that he knew, but leaving for months? Where he couldn’t be there in case she needed him? Where they couldn’t laugh and tease or just enjoy the life they had now that the biggest threat in their lives was over?

“I don’t get why ya think ya can just leave me alone like that.”

Those were not the right words to say and Natsu was unprepared for the bitter dam he’d broke loose.

Lucy had gone silent, jaw open- looking as if she’d been slapped. Blinking her eyes rapidly, she struggled to form words, Natsu’s own had fallen from his lips without truly thinking about it and he crossed his arms stubbornly. Since they helped bring the Guild back together, after all they fought and struggled for, she was wanting to just… run off on her own? He didn’t like it. He didn’t have a way to explain why it left a bad taste in his mouth, but it did- and he saw no reason why he shouldn’t say so. 

“.... You,” She seethed, voice gutterral, rising in volume as she took a step forward, right into his space, poking a digit into his chest with so much force, he almost stepped back. Pink brows rose under the fringe of his hair as Natsu stared in shock,  not expecting the absolute rage in Lucy’s eyes, “-Inconsiderate. JERK!”

He stepped back then- forced to by her hand shoving him, advancing against him as he realized, too late, what he had done. Tears were glistening in the corner of her eyes. From sadness? Anger?  Natsu couldn’t get a read on the fluctuating emotions as her pointed nail dug briefly into his skin through the fabric of his jacket.  “Oi- Lucy! Hold up there- “

She interrupted, “Don’t you TRY and calm me down!” She finally backed off, dark gaze turning towards the rest of the guild, many of the eavesdroppers glanced away sheepishly- whistling to themselves. Others (Like Mirajane and Erza) goggled from their locations with wide, disappointed eyes. Lucy didn’t seem to notice. Not then. And she wouldn’t for awhile. “Don’t you remember what I told you back in Amefurashi Village? How I felt during the entire YEAR you had left?!” Her voice was shaky and it lost its loud tempo with every word, cracking when she released the explosion bubbling at the tip of her tongue. “You don’t get to tell me if I can leave you alone or not. I don’t care what’s happened since then. You don’t get to say that. Not now. Not. ever.”

Natsu felt his mouth run dry, his blood cold. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, but the wind had been knocked from him by Lucy’s words as his eyes darted back and forth between her and the guild around them, unsure of what he could say. Yes, he remembered Amefurashi Village. The bitterness in her tone when she had snapped at him for his unthinking words against Gray. Juvia had interrupted their moment of tension, but that didn’t overlap his memory. The look on Lucy’s face was all he needed to cement it into his mind. 

Not only that, but the memory of her forlorn expression as she slept, finally relieved to see him and Happy again, with only a wall of all her attempts for contact to keep her company. Those memories came hand in hand and Lucy’s reminder stole all words from him. In that moment he realized just how far he had overstepped. “- Lucy, I didn’t mean that-”

She cut him off with a finger pointing to his nose, practically hissing in her rage. “You know what? I don’t want to hear it!” 

The click-clack of her heels echoed through the hall. Lucy turned from him in one fluid motion, her words stabbing him like tiny knives with each stomp against the wood floor. The silence in the Guild was palpable, interrupted only by the slam of the doors, as she made her exit. The walls shook and every interloper took in a breath, their gazes falling on Natsu in bafflement.

“You really stuck your foot in a pile of it now.” Macao mumbled, scratching his neck awkwardly. 

“Ehh, you shouldn’t worry too much about it,” Wakaba joined in, “Girl’s like to blow up, but they get over it quickly enough. Even my wife- “ He was silenced by a sharp elbow to his ribs from Macao. 

Natsu barely heard either of them. His head was buzzing from Lucy’s words. It wasn’t her anger that floored him. Oh no, he could handle that- he could accept her frustration.  This wasn’t just anger or a bomb exploding to calm down later. He had seen what no one else had, the glitter of pain in her narrowed eyes. The hint of water shining in the irises before she forcefully blinked them back as she turned away. She hadn’t stomped off from her anger. Lucy had left to hide her tears. 

He had hurt her. Natsu had hurt Lucy. He felt like vomiting. 

At first, Natsu considered chasing after her, already stepping forward to start his pursuit- but a quick snap of his name from Erza, froze him in place, jaw clenching tight as his teeth ground together. It was hard not to continue, his clenched fists were testament to the inner struggle to rush after his best team mate and make everything right again, but how?

“While I absolutely believe she deserves an apology,” Erza said, moving to his side , her voice was harsh, angry and Natsu didn’t blame her, “I don’t agree with you charging after her like this. Give her the space she obviously wants and think for a change, won’t you?”

Natsu didn’t have it in him to argue the jab. His energy deflated, eyes meeting Happy’s from the nearest counter. The blue Exceed had barely begun eating the fish he’d been given, worry and hurt distracting him. With a noncommittal shrug, he moved to sit by his flying partner, shoulders sagging as a puff of steam blew from his lips. It would have been so easy to turn around and challenge Erza just then, but the idea was an old one, something he’d done often in the past to release emotions he dared not speak out loud. 

Often he would release his anger, sadness, inner fears and loss of hope, into the brawls he instigated and joined. It was a quick release that refreshed him and reminded Natsu that his heart was still beating, that he and those around him were still alive. He could shovel his concerns and what had bothered him and others under a thick rug in his mind after a good fight- finding other ways to bring smiles to his and everyone's faces. 

How often had he been kicked from Lucy’s apartment, suffered a loss or grew angry at some random enemy mistreating her, only to turn around and fight Gray and Gajeel to calm down- ? How often did he return to Lucy with a goofy grin, jokes and crazy antics to distract her and reassure her that everything would be okay? Too often. He couldn’t count the times on his fingers. (Not even his toes for that matter.)

“Way to go, Flame Brain,” Gray said from behind, voice cold and taunting. “I’d have punched you if I were Lucy. How stupid can you get?”

Natsu knew what Gray was doing. The insult was well-deserved, but also done with purpose. It was the very invitation Natsu often took and needed, but rather than stride through the wide open door of Gray’s challenge, he merely tilted his head to glance at his fellow mage and frowned. He didn’t have the energy. Not now. It had seeped through his bones the very moment Lucy had slammed the door. 

“Gray,” Erza snapped, causing the other mage to freeze in place, “Not.now.”

“Uh- yeah, right. Sorry!” 

Natsu’s answer was to slam his head against the counter and groan. 

-

The day had looked to be a good one. With a bright sun, hardly any clouds and perfect wind to keep a person cool. With the sun just below the horizon and stars starting to blink out in the sky, the mood was a complete one-eighty.  Erza hadn’t allowed Natsu to leave until she was certain Natsu knew what he wanted to. (“There will be NO bothering Lucy if you’re going to speak thoughtlessly again!”)  It was hard to be patient, and while he craved the distraction of a good brawl, Natsu had listlessly sulked at the bar instead. 

Now, he wondered if he needed a few more hours to sulk before he ventured into Lucy’s apartment. Coming up to the building he could recognize blindfolded, he readjusted his scarf and grimaced. 

“You know you can just try in the morning, Natsu.” Happy said. He stood at Natsu’s feet, his own frown on his face while he glanced towards Lucy’s window. “I’m sure she’ll be willing to forgive you then! Oh, we can even bring her a gift!”

That could possibly work, but Natsu had a feeling he knew exactly what sort of gift Happy had in mind.

“A big fish!”

Yup.

 Despite the low mood, Natsu grinned. Count on Happy to help even just a little. Kneeling down to pat the Exceed on his blue head, he shook his head and tilted his gaze towards the window he often climbed through. “I don’t think that’s gonna work this time, buddy.  And I think I’ve avoided this long enough.”

“What do you mean?” Happy blinked owlishly, but Natsu didn’t give an explanation. The two had been through so much and stayed by each other the year he had traveled. Above everyone, Happy knew and understood his fears and intentions, but that understanding could only go so far. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Stretching, he rolled his shoulders and pointed towards his goal. “Think you can get me up there? Probably best you don’t stay for this just in case, but I’ll send ya’ a signal when the coast is clear!” “Aye, sir!” The rustling of magic to unfurl his wings was swift, and with well-timed practice, the two were in the air and elevated to the window of Lucy’s bedroom. So many times she had told him to use the door and there had been a few times he had actually listened - when he got there first. 

Most of his window attempts were done just to tease her after her initial complaints, at some point, his blonde partner had stopped complaining and often expected his entrances. Today, he hoped for similar. Natsu had never feared she would lock the windows on him before, but the worry niggled into the back of his brain. It would be far too easy to bust it open if he’d been out for more reasons to anger his partner, but this was a mission to clear the air, not exacerbate their issues. 

Natsu felt relief surge through him as the window clicked open. She hadn’t locked it after all! Exhaling, he lifted his thumb to happy and waved him off. With a whispered ‘good luck!’, his partner flew  off in the direction of the guild and Natsu steeled himself for the true challenge of the night. He slid the frame upward and quickly moved in, careful not to rustle the mattress or knock items over. 

He was surprised not to find her at her desk. Even more so stunned at the amount of papers littering the floor, some crumpled and others torn. Lucy had never been one to be messy. (That was his job!)  Natsu’s stomach churned at the realization that his actions caused such a change in her own routine and he quickly examined the rest of the room, trying to pinpoint his teammate’s location.  The lights had yet to be lit, casting dark shadows over the furniture and he clicked his tongue.  “ - Lucy? Are, are ya’ here?”

He could smell her, but figured he’d ask. The sudden sniffle from the front of her couch caught his attention and slowly, a disheveled blonde peered up from the cushions, eyeing him with narrowed eyes.  “Go away, Natsu.”

He almost stepped back through the window, but closed it behind him as he began his trek across the room. She told him to go away, and many times in the past he had ignored such orders until she’d thrown him out. Age had told him to take her words into account more often, but the fact that she hadn’t barred his entrance was all the communication he needed.  Lucy would be willing to talk.. If he only had the right words.

“I wanted to-” He began, fumbling over his words, “I just wanted to say that…. Uh- I didn’t mean to, that is-” Where had this rambling come from? Snorting, he took another step towards her and muttered, “I wanted t’say sorry.”

A heavy silence filled the air. Lucy’s eyes stayed focus on him as she kept her face pressed against the back of her seat. The low-light had made features hard to distinguish at first, but now Natsu could see the puffiness and redness in her gaze. She wasn’t at present, but he knew tears had stained those cheeks some time ago. It doubled the tumultuous sickness in his stomach and he struggled to swallow.  

Finally, Lucy moved, turning her back to him to settle herself into the cushion. She didn’t repeat her earlier order and her fingers drummed along her arms impatiently. With a huff, Lucy said, `` - do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

Oh he knew, but it made his throat thicken all over again- as if a ball had been lodged into his throat, suffocating the five inside, smothering him. Why were emotions and words so difficult to say? 

“You don’t do you?” Lucy’s voice cracked, he couldn’t see her face, but Natsu could picture it as if she were standing before him. Her words came out in waves, full of emotion- anger, sadness, just at the cusp of spilling out. “You just think, you can waltz right in here, apologizing and things are going to go back to normal so you can tease me again and have a grand ole time, but you’re wrong! Not this time. We can’t ALWAYS pretend things aren’t upsetting us, you know!”

She was rambling, giving Natsu the answer to his earlier thoughts. Lucy had always rambled when upset, embarrassed even, but Natsu could hear the rise of tone and knew everything he intended would be kicked out the window if he didn’t act fast, but what could he do? What would he do?  What… what would Lucy do?

Natsu had always been better with actions than words and he crossed the floor in a few steps, hearing Lucy’s words, but not processing them as he moved. In a flurry of movement that sent the tassels of his scarf swooping over her blonde head. His arms encircling her shoulders from behind, cut off all complaints as she choked on her words. Her scent was overpowering, with his nose pressed against the back of her ear, feeling the softness of her hair. 

“I- .. Natsu-” Lucy swallowed, tried to find more words as her face slowly began to turn a few shades red, “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry.” He said. His tone absolute. It wasn’t enough. He knew it wasn’t, but the firmness, the fact he wasn’t crawling on the floor in an attempt to make it funny, deviate with humor,  this was him: serious. 

“Y-you can’t just h-hug me and make it all go away,” She hiccupped and Natsu realized the emotions were spilling over again, but he chose not to notice. Lucy was embarrassed and confused enough, without his teasing. His grip only tightened, a gentle squeeze as he lowered his voice. 

“I know.” He said. “It ain’t like I think this is enough, I just… I really suck at this, Lucy, and I’m not sure if there’s anything I can say t’make it better.” He was sure going to try despite his doubts. “I remember everything ya’ said back then. Ya’ looked so,” Bitter, hurt, annoyed, “I HAD to leave then. At least I thought I did.”

There were many nights he wondered if he had made a mistake. It wasn’t often that Natsu questioned his decisions, usually trusting his gut decisions to lead him down the right track, but after his return? Guilt ate at him like a virus, but he had shoved it away the same as he had done for every negative feeling he had felt for years. How could he be strong if he let things get to him? How could he be dependable? The one Lucy and everyone else could always count on? Back then, he felt there was no other way and even now, breaking through his own inadequacies made his words jumble over themselves. 

“No.” Lucy answered, she sniffled and wiped her eyes. “You didn’t. You could have stayed. You could have been honest or- or… did more than leave me a note! You have no idea how long I looked for you that day! How much I WANTED to go too and you- !!!” 

She fell silent, biting back her words as she untangled herself from his arms. It left a strange sensation of emptiness within him, but he didn’t try to pull her back. Lucy was turning to face him, the extent of her emotions plain on her face. Red cheeks from tears and embarrassment he first noticed, but her bottom lip was quivering, constantly being gnawed between her teeth. It took everything in his body not to lean further to pull her lip down, saving it from the assault. Now wasn’t the time. 

“You already know I lost Aquarius,” She stated, arms crossing while her shoulders quivered. “You know how important she is to me, Natsu. What ALL my spirits mean to me. And I.. I- … “ Her tears dribbled down, dripping off her chin and an almost frantic, tragic whine issued with her next words, “I broke her to save you! To save Everyone!” 

That was it, the dam of strength, the final resolve. It bashed against the hammer of her words and she sobbed, covering her face from the force of her tears. “I wasn’t strong enough and had to-to… do that to her, and you just.. You .. left and I was so.. So…”

Natsu knew without her having to finish: Alone. 

He licked his lips, attempting to dislodge the words on the tip of his tongue. Her words were like blows striking against him, but with a fierce glare, he jumped over the couch, grasping her shoulders to regain her focus as he hissed, “Lucy! You’re not weak. You took on Tartaros by yourself and saved all our asses! I wasn’t there for it, but I knew it when I came to. I just knew it. Don’t blame yourself for that!”

Accuse me. I’m the one to blame. I’m the one who left. I’m the one who ran. “I’m the one who wasn’t strong, I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t protect anyone- I couldn’t save my Dad!” When did his own tears start to fall? They stung his eyes, burned like his fire, but he forced his gaze on her, refused to blink. 

He couldn’t save Igneel. That was the truth. He had to stand there and watch as Acnologia ripped his father in half. Even after the death of the Dragon King, the pain and the memory stung like a thousand knives, it took his breath away. Inhaling sharply, his fingers lost their grip, falling loosely to his side. Natsu could hardly see the look on Lucy’s face through his blurred eyes. “What… what good was I t’anyone like that Lucy? I keep.. I keep goin’ through it over and over again, but there was nothing I could do. And if I took ya’ with me? Then I’d want to go home so much more, want to goof off, not take things seriously, I couldn’t.. I… I didn’t think I was good enough to be anyone’s partner then Lucy. I-”

I made a mistake. I know I did.  “I didn’t realize how stupid I was until I came back- I still don’t know if I’d do anything different, but I know I messed up, I know I did- but…”

A softness of slim digits interrupted him, reaching out to straight his scarf before Lucy’s face crashed against his chest, fingers digging into the fabric like a lifeline. She was in his arms again and he wasted no time in holding her close. This was a comfort. This was something they both needed, and he sucked in more air, matching Lucy sniffle for sniffle. He hated crying. Hated showing emotion. He hated seeing her cry even more. 

“We’re both stupid.” She mumbled, but no explanation came. Not then. Emotions spilled between them then. No words, only the comfort of each other as their bodies slid to the couch- grips tight around the other as they released the pent of feelings they had buried inside their hearts for over a year.  It was a new experience for Natsu- having only unloaded his full emotions to Happy during their times away from the Guild, but with Lucy? Somehow, the release felt somehow… cathartic. Like a rubber band snapping back into place after being strung tight for too long. 

When their tears dried, sobs settled and breaths grew even, Natsu and Lucy were tangled together on her couch. Partially laying atop him, Lucy breathed into his neck, and his legs felt stiff from the awkward angle, but he kept his hold against her. The room had grown darker, bringing the silence of night down upon the room, but he could light the room later. 

Absentmindedly, his fingers ran through her golden locks. It was a soothing sensation, one that calmed him. Lucy’s body relaxed at the movements and she sucked in air she couldn’t claim through her earlier sobs. With the well of their emotions now emptied, the explosion changed to a weariness that threatened to put the two to sleep. 

“Lucy?” Natsu broke the silence, fingers pausing in their movement as he stared at the ceiling so his eyes could adjust to the light. 

It took her a moment before she answered, as if the edges of sleep were fighting to keep her quiet. She didn’t bother moving her head, certain he’d hear regardless. “Mmm, what is it?”

“Please take me and Happy with you.”

She stiffened and the room grew tense again. Natsu bit his tongue, suddenly anxious. Instead of snapping as he expected, she pushed up to look him in the eye, tired eyes waiting. “Why?”

More words, but he’d already emptied himself out. What more could he say? He wet his lips, eyes flicked to the wall and back again as he wiped his palms on the cushion beneath him. “It hurt being away from you.” He admitted, cheeks heating up against his will, “and you were upset too. I just… think-” words she had spoken years ago sprang to his mind and he jumped on them, “I think it’s better when we’re together.”

Was it unfair? Perhaps, but he meant it. Meant it as much as she on the day she had spoke those words. He didn’t doubt she felt the same. He was positive she did, and the way her lips finally curved into a small smile assured him of that. 

“You know, I wanted to go alone so I could try and get stronger and finish my book,” She said, blowing a strand of hair from her face. It fell back a moment later and she frowned. “I don’t know if I’ll find Aquarius when I go, but I want to believe I will. I didn’t just decide to go on my own to spite you or anything.”

“I know.”  Natsu said. He reached up to tuck the strand behind her ear, gaze faltering. “If you’re sure you don’t want me and Happy with you, fine. I’ll accept it. I just…”

Like her, he didn’t want to feel alone. With the guild, the rest of their team, he was never truly alone, he knew that. Just as Lucy had her spirits, but somehow things felt duller, less bright, when the three of them were apart. He felt it, but did she?

She flopped against him, the tips of her ears bright red, but the sudden movement took the breath out of him. Natsu tilted his head and waited, wondering if this lack of response was her way of denying him again. He would relent, if that was the case, but he wasn’t the greatest at reading her, especially in moments like these. Just when he was about to accept the silence as an ‘I’ll answer in the morning’ and close his eyes, Lucy gave her answer. 

“Okay.”

“What?” Even with great hearing, that didn’t mean he could always trust what he heard. 

Lucy huffed, a soft giggle breathing against his ear. “You both can come. - but I lead, got it?”

Exhilaration filled him and he laughed- relief echoing into the room like a heated balm. His chest heaved from his boisterous cackle and his arms settled around her once again. Later, she might struggle away from him in embarrassment. Morning would come and they’d be just as they were before- best friends, with maybe a hint of more, maybe not. 

For now, they just were- and Natsu couldn’t be happier. 

“You’re the boss.”

Both dozing off, emotions and energy spent- Natsu took one last glance towards Lucy as her breathing grew even, face tilted to reveal the flushed, puffy cheeks. He readjusted them both for his legs to fit over the armrest and yawned. Unfortunately, just as sleep was about to take him, he peeked one eye open towards the window and realized he hadn’t signaled Happy as he said he would. Natsu was sure his partner would chew him out for the transgression come morning. 

He spared another, tired glance at Lucy and figured it was worth it.

[tonictransistor]

Fairness || Modern Jedi

A/N: I’m not really sure what warnings to put on this, I never do. There is some fairly aggressive force choking and uhhh Kylo gets really emotional. Otherwise some fairly tame powerplay type stuff and uhh degradation. Maybe near-death experiences just to be safe. A tiny sprinkling of angst and a tiny bit of fluff; sugar and spice. Slap on a long drawn out orgasm and my fairly inconsistent pacing and you’ve got a decent fic on your hands. 

This is an idea that I’ve had floating around in my head for a while so it was nice to finally get it down. Hope y’all enjoy!

"I want to hear you say it." Kylo growled into your ear.

You whined, shaking your head as you covered your face from embarrassment. Suddenly you felt like it was a mistake to leave him alone with AO3 open. Every saved fic, every sick and depraved fantasy you've had of him was suddenly open to him and he was taking full advantage of it. As if he needed the help.��

"No?" He said in a deceptively soft voice. "I understand, perhaps I should stop then." Pushing himself up, he pulled out of you, settling back onto his knees. Kneeling above you, he began stroking his cock, eyes locked on yours. 

"No no no Kylo, please." You practically sobbed from the loss of contact. He knew you were too wound up to just let him stop now. He knew you would give him what he wanted. And he was right. 

"You know what I want. And I know what you want. How about you stop playing this game with me and just give in." He paused only to let out a deep groan as his hand stuttered over his cock. "Before I make myself cum." The sound of his voice seemed to send shockwaves through your body and you wondered if it was a Force trick. You always forgot he still had those abilities until he showed them off. 

Gods you hated this. Fucking smug asshole.

"Say it. I can practically feel it on the tip of your tongue; Just let go." 

"Please, Supreme Leader." You finally said. 

Kylo gave a smug look that hinted all too well at those Solo genes of his. He leaned forward and placed one hand on your side while the other stayed on his cock. The way he towered over you made your size difference all too apparent and again you found yourself cursing your Fic history. 

"What was that? I don't think I heard you." He taunted as you could feel him position himself over your cunt. With the slightest thrust of his hips, you could feel the head of his cock rub against your clit. Desperately you tried to move your hips with his, but the second you managed to get some good friction going you felt an invisible force holding you still causing you to whine again. 

"None of that, not until I hear you. Say it like you mean it." He was really dragging this out, making sure you were fully aware of the power he had over you. 

"Fuck," You exclaimed. "Please Supreme Leader fuck me please god damn you fucking asshole." The words came as one long, loud demand; the annoyed desperation apparent. 

All at once, you felt his cock slam into you and his hand squeeze around your throat. 

"Watch your mouth." Kylo growled. 

In an attempt to hide any sign of your enjoyment, you bit your lip to hold back your whines, but that was near impossible. With each thrust Kylo made, you were pushed further into the mattress. Your entire bed frame was moving with such force you were sure that the supports would break or leave marks in the wall or both. Kylo made sure to pull every possible noise from your lips to claim as his victory over you. 

"Look at you whining for me like a little slut." He ground out through clenched teeth. "What would your beloved General think if he saw you, heard you, his precious little kitten." Kylo taunted really driving things home. 

"Fuck, that isn't fair." You complained. 

"Fair? Don't fucking talk to me about what's fair." You knew you struck a nerve, a sudden fire flaring up in his eyes. "I'm who knows how far from my own galaxy, I have to put up with strange--fandom nonsense on a near daily basis. Your trash planet has made my [i]entire[/i] life into some joke," As his voice rose, you suddenly felt that invisible grip tighten on your throat to a point beyond your comfort. 

A million thoughts ran through your mind in an instant. Was this really how you were going to go? Choked to death by Kylo Ren in a manner eerily similar to that of Padme and Anakin? All while being fucked? It was a wild thought for sure. 

"And above all that--" He stopped speaking suddenly, cutting himself off. In an instant his entire demeanor changed. The fire once in his eyes was cooled by the waters of regret and what you could argue as homesickness. It was a look you had seen in him only twice before, that stupidly hot teary eyed, pouty-lipped look. If you weren't on the verge of passing out, you'd laugh about the fact that he was seriously about to cry during sex. 

Almost as quickly as the look came, it vanished and with it the crushing force grip on your throat. 

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. A moment of understanding, which, while you were glad to have, you still had his hard cock inside of you and it was mildly distracting you from being the emotional support he needed in that exact moment. 

 "You're such a needy slut." Kylo said with a laugh, and as if nothing had even happened, he started to fuck you again. Though his thrusts were still very deliberate and still had a certain amount of force to them, the entire mood was different. The emotional bond that was inadvertently bridged made things softer, as cliche as that sounded. 

Your orgasm seemed to sneak up on you. One perfectly timed thrust made Kylo's cock hit you in just the right way that made your entire body tense. A sharp whine passed your lips as you clenched around his length and waves of pleasure washed over you like the slow waves of a calm sea. It was admittedly anticlimactic, given the intense build up, but still just as satisfying. 

In your euphoria, you almost didn't notice Kylo slowing to a near stop. You clenched around him as if you were trying to hold him inside of you.

"You aren't going to cum for me?" You asked in the sweetest voice you could muster. After all this, you couldn't just let him go unfinished. At this point he had definitely earned the right. "What good am I to my Supreme Leader if I can't make him cum?" With those words, you pushed him over so that you could get on top of him. 

You placed your hands flat on chest as you began to ride him, slowly at first, searching for the perfect rhythm. Once you found it though, you really went for it. You could feel his muscles tense under your hands as you rode him. He said nothing but you could see it on his face that he was close. Speeding up your pace, you were eager to see this through to the end and in an experimentive gesture, you pinched his nipples. The look of confusion he gave you quickly turned to one of completion as he thrust into you and came. 

With a lazy, satisfied smile you pulled off of him and collapsed at Kylo's side and in a slightly uncharacteristic gesture, he used the force to throw the comforter over the two of you. 

"Next time, use your hand." Your voice finally broke the uncomfortable silence that seemed to last way too long. He gave you a look of confusion. "When you choke me, next time use your hand." You demonstrated the motion on him, your fingers brushing over the scar from his fight on Starkiller. 

"What, so I can give your colleagues more reason to give me weird looks?" He scoffed. 

"Okay first of all, colleagues makes it sound like I work somewhere important, just say coworkers. And no so I can make things weird by telling people how I enjoyed it when they come at me with questions of concern." You laughed. Kylo cracked a small smile, which is exactly what you were looking for. He never smiled enough and you always made it a point to try and fix that. 

There was a moment of awkward silence between you after that as you contemplated addressing the other elephant in the room. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You asked. 

“No.” 

Honestly, you didn’t expect any other answer but you at least wanted to make an attempt. Canon had lead you to believe that this man had gone years with having his feelings ignored and you wanted him to know that that didn’t have to be the case anymore. That it was okay for him to open up if he needed to. Though you wanted to leave things at that and respect his answer, you simply wanted one final question answered. 

”Do you miss her?”You broadcasted the thought as loud as you imagined you could, hoping he would give you an answer. 

Simply he stated, “Yes.” 

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A/N: I want to make it PAINFULLY CLEAR that he’s talking about missing his MOTHER.