it seemed to me that this quote was proper for this situation

Stereotyped vs Nuanced Characters and Audience Perception

Writing with color receives many questions regarding the stereotypes Characters of Color and their story lines may possess.

There’s a difference between having a three-dimensional character with trait variance and flaws, versus one who walks the footsteps of a role people of their race/ethnicity are constantly put into. Let’s discuss this, as well as how sometimes, while there’s not much issue with the character, a biased audience will not allow the character to be dimensional.

But first: it’s crucial to consider the thinking behind your literary decisions.

Trace your Logic 

When it comes to the roles and traits you assign your characters, it’s important to ask yourself why you made them the way they are. This is especially true for your marginalized characters.

So you need an intimidating, scary character. What does intimidating look like on first brainstorm? Is it a Black man, large in size or presence? (aka a Scary Black Man) A Latino with trouble with the law? If so, why?

Really dig, even as it gets uncomfortable. You’ll likely find you’re conditioned to think of certain people in certain roles on the spot.

It’s a vicious cycle; we see a group of people represented a certain way in media, and in our own works depict them in the way we know. Whether you consciously believe it’s the truest depiction of them all or not, we’re conditioned to select them for these roles again and again. Actors of Color report on being told in auditions they’re not performing stereotypical enough and have been encouraged to act more “ethnic.” 

This ugly merry-go-round scarcely applies to (cis, straight) white people as they are allowed a multitude of roles in media. Well, then again, I do notice a funny trend of using white characters when stories need a leader, a hero, royalty, a love interest…

Today’s the day to break free from this preconditioned role-assigning.

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The tragic story of too much info about the sexual relationship of your best friends or why Alya will forever regret trying to kill Adrien

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @lunian !!!!!!! Remember when we talked about this? Well, I couldn’t resist writing it. I hope you’ll like it. Crack ahead. And if the title wasn’t a dead giveaway, this has some sexual references in it. Nothing happens, but many are said.


“ADRIEN FUCKING DEAD AGRESTE!”

All the people who were still in the courtyard of the Collège Françoise Dupont run for the hills (or in this case, the school building) as Alya Césaire appeared and walked towards her best friend’s boyfriend with all the might of a storm.

“Dude, I think she means you.” Nino stage-whispered to his best friend as his girlfriend made a beeline towards them.

“But my middle name is Bartholomé.” Adrien argued.

Nino rolled his eyes. His best friend really needed to set his priorities straight. “That’s what worries you?”

Adrien gulped. “Burry me in a polka dotted coffin, please.”

Nino was under the impression he wasn’t kidding in the slightest. “Sure, if there is anything left to bury.”

“There won’t be!” Alya snarled as she lifted Adrien by the neck.

Well, this morning is certainly bound to be interesting, Nino thought.


One day, Marinette will be on time to school. One day. Today wasn’t that day. As Marinette speed walked through the school yard she couldn’t help but notice what a beautiful day it was. The sun was shining, birds were singing, Adrien was being strangled by Alya… wait a second.

“Alya!” Marinette shouted, rushing towards them. “Put him down.”

Her best friend was obviously not happy to have to delay her murder. Meanwhile, Nino considered if he should stop filming the whole thing. If Marinette was here, then maybe there won’t be need of proof for the police for a murder. Though, let’s be real, he would never turn his girlfriend in. He would have just posted the video on YouTube in his collection of An Infinity of Reasons Why You Shouldn’t Piss Alya Off. If he was recalling correctly, this video would be number 2749.

“Alya, what is going on? Why are you strangling my boyfriend.” Marinette questioned crossing her arms, while Adrien was gasping for air on the ground.

“Marinette,“ Alya’s tone was regretful and the sad look in her eyes indicated something bad was coming. “I’m sorry to say this honey, but he is cheating on you.”

And in that moment, Marinette felt her whole world crashing down. “What?! With whom?”

Marinette was dying to hear that answer. Who? Did Adrien really cheat on her? Was it some rabid fangirl who jumped at his bones and Alya just got the wrong impression?

Alya sighed. “With Ladybug.”

Marinette blinked. “Damn.” both her and Adrien whispered maybe a little too loudly. Thus Adrien choked, cause he still didn’t regain his proper breathing.

“That’s… unexpected.” Marinette managed to say, trying to think of something plausible to get them out of this situation. She knew it was a bad idea to make out when only one of them was transformed. Damn Adrien and his filthy thirst for her spots. “It isn’t a problem, though, cause… um… this is… an… open… relationship.”

Oh well, not the worst excuse she could have had come with. Alya crossed her arms obviously expecting an explanation while Nino muttered a ‘dude’ under his breath. That’s when Adrien decided to be a supportive boyfriend.

“Yeah. Marinette has her fun times with Ladybug too,” he said, raising his index finger as if that would help him make a point while he was still laying on the ground.

Why is he like this? Marinette sighed internally.

Alya turned to Marinette with an expression that was a mix of shock and anger. “You are hooking up with Ladybug and you didn’t tell me?!”

Marinette glared down at Adrien, who looked sheepish. “Yeah. And don’t forget about Chat Noir.”

“Chat Noir?” both Alya and Nino screamed simultaneously.

“Yeah,” Marinette stated, looking at Adrien, who finally picked himself off the ground, with a mischievous look. “Why don’t you tell us about your escapades with Chat Noir, Adrien?”

Her boyfriend laughed nervously. “What escapade do you mean?”

Marinette smirked. “Well, you did tell me that Chat Noir found you wearing cute yet sexy Ladybug lingerie.”

At this point, Nino had to turn off his camera, unable to hold his phone anymore. “Dudeeeee.”

Alya, to everybody’s surprise, was silent until now. But there was as much as the shock could keep her from asking. "But what about Ladybug?”

“Oh, she thinks the same” Marinette replied calmly while analyzing her nails.

“No, no, I mean, I thought Chat only loves her.”

“Oh that… well, who can resist this model ass?” she asked rhetorically while slapping Adrien’s ass for emphasis. Nino nodded vigorously as well. Honestly, wasn’t it universal knowledge everybody loved Adrien’s ass?

Adrien glared at Marinette. Not for smacking his ass, mind you. He loved getting his ass smacked by her. But for making fun of his taste in lingerie. Well, if this is how she wanted to play, so be it then. “Of course. So if we are discussing this topic, why don’t you mention that time when Chat caught you wearing lingerie inspired by his outfit?”

’Well, don’t try hiding the fact that once you begged Ladybug to tie you with her yoyo.“ Marinette scoffed, trying to hide her blush. That had been an interesting night.

"I need a bucket,” Alya muttered, not sure what to think of her friends and her idol anymore.

“YOU CALLED CHAT NOIR’S DICK AS A BATON!” Adrien shouted louder than necessary, while blushing.

“I guess, I need one too” Nino said, wishing he will just forget everything that had been said so far. And from now on, because apparently Marinette and Adrien weren’t done.

“Remember when you told Chat Noir that you want a collar with a bell too?”

“Oh, really Marinette, should I remind you that one time when I walked on you and Ladybug and you were blindfolded?”

Nino glanced at Alya. “Are we kink shaming them now or later?”

“Then you asked us if you can be blindfolded instead and, I quote ‘used as your little sex toy’.” that had been a strange day. She had an urge to blindfold herself, Adrien came over unannounced and things escalated quickly and she discovered some new kinks of her boyfriend.

“I guess, if we die right here, right this second, they wouldn’t notice it.” Nino states, but Alya was unable to reply anymore, not sure what to make out of this whole conversation.

“You begged Chat Noir to slap you with his tail belt.” Adrien argued back, while his face was putting any ripe tomato to shame.

Marinette screeched. “YOU WERE WEARING MY FAVORITE PINK STOCKINGS.”

“THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH WHAT WE WERE TALKING ABOUT.”

"I’m sure it totally does.”

Adrien scoffed, crossing his arms. “But you can deny they suit me.” he knew she liked them. She even said so that night. They had been a little tight, but she had made him a matching pair better fit for his height.

"Jesus, how many moments like this do they have?” Nino questioned, clearly shocked by how kinky his bro was. And he was sort of afraid fo the answer, if he had to be honest.

“What’s more important, why are we still listening to this mess?” it was Alya’s turn to ask questions that will never get answers. “I’m not even sure if I want to use this thing as blackmail or just erase it from my brain forever.”

“To be honest, it would be much better if Adrien really just cheated on Mari with Ladybug,” Nino said hesitantly, obviously scared of Alya’s reaction. “I mean, I wouldn’t have forgiven him if he ever did that, but at least, in that case, us, innocent bystanders wouldn’t have to be traumatized for life.”

Alya could only nod. Honestly, the mental picture fo Adrien in Ladybug themed lingerie left her with brain damage.

After what seemed like an eternity Adrien and Marinette finished their not so little argument, both huffing and as red in the face as the surface of Mars. Not that anybody would say that out loud, given how much of a nerd Adrien is, he would come with some science facts about the color of the surface of Mars.
.
“So yeah, we have an open relationship.” Marinette concluded, the two of them finally turning to their best friends.

“We got it after the reminder about Chat Noir, thank you.” Nino said, sarcastically.

“Now get outta of my sight, my poor brain had dealt enough with your kinks for now and forever.” Alya ordered waving her hand desperately while rubbing her temple with her free hand.

“Well, if you didn’t want to kill me, none of this would have happened.” Adrien said with a smug smirk.

Alya snarled. "Next time neither Marinette or even fucking Ladybug won’t stop me, Agreste.”

Adrien gulped. Marinette slapped him compassionately on the ass.

Since the Oscars are on Sunday and one of the internet’s boyfriends Ryan Gosling is nominated (but won’t win), I thought I’d update this post here on the lowkey cuteness of Baby Goose’s relationship with his lady of over five six years, Eva Mendes.

As I said before, this is mostly because folks like to pretend, 5+ years and two kids later, that his relationship with Miss Eva is just a fling, or he’s been “trapped” and some go as far as to hope, yes, HOPE, that he will cheat on his gal with Emma Stone or Rachel McAdams or whomever. So since I don’t see this level of disrespect stopping Sunday night or ever, I thought I’d give some love to Ryan’s actual lady love, whether she shows up with him at the Oscars or not (PLEASE SHOW UP, EVA). They are actual low key couple goals.

1. Ryan basically insisted on Eva for the role of his ex in The Place Beyond the Pines, saying Eva, at the time a casual acquaintance/friend of several years and mutual friend of his former co-star Kirsten Dunst, was underrated as an actress. Soon, he took her to Disney and it was on. They both would later say it was one of the best experiences they had on a film.

2. …he clearly was playing the long game on that set, LOOK AT HIS FACE 

Look at him, even when she wasn’t looking, boy was smitten 

3. He took his shot with an admirable quickness

Real quick. And the rest was history.

4. HEIGHT DIFFERENCE AND THE SMILING

5. No, really, she’s little. Standing on a big step in heels and yet still small

THEY’RE CUTE, OKAY. YOU LOVE THIS KIND OF SHIT, TUMBLR.

6. AND THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER WHEN SHE’S NOT LOOKING

7. Here’s Ellen getting Eva all blushing and giggling talking about Ryan

Eva’s also hella adorable and hilarious on her own, but I digress.

8. Ryan’s SNL shout out 

9. People trying to act like he’s not in a relationship? Ryan had an app for that

“I know that I’m with the person I’m supposed to be with,” he says, adding that the only quality he looks for in a woman is “that she’s Eva Mendes. There’s nothing else I’m looking for.”

10.  Both dog lovers, Ryan wears Eva’s late dog’s tag on his neck at an event

She also reps his dog on her instagram 

11. They share the same sense of humor, and are both huge fans of Atlanta and Broad City (Eva follows the BC girls on insta, and Ryan would quote BC on twitter. Constantly).

12. Ryan on Eva and their kids:

“…it’s like a dream that I’m having right now. I’m dreaming it all. So I feel so lucky…There was nothing kind of premeditated about it, you know. It just suddenly was: My life had changed. And thank God it did.”

And this, as he continues to say a lot with so little

“It sounds so clichéd, but I never knew that life could be this fun and this great.”

Aaaaand

When I ask him if he gets lonely, he says: “Not any more.”

Why not? “Because I have a family.” That takes it away? “Mmm-hmm.” But you’ve felt loneliness before? “In my life? Yeah.” When? Why? “I think, before I had a family.”

Ryan also appears to be close with Eva’s sister Janet.

13. Eva wears his clothes.

14. He gave her an emerald ring after the birth of their daughter Esmeralda. The Spanish word for emerald is…Esmeralda.

Eva has also spoken of how they play a lot of Latin music in their home and their insistence on keeping Eva’s culture in their daughters’ lives.

15. Ryan has engaged in a turf war with his daughter against other kids over Eva and Esmeralda’s “honor:”

“Some kid has been erasing [Esmeralda’s] name and writing their name over it. So now I’m in a proper tagging battle. And this kid has access to an unfair amount of chalk. I’m trying to explain to my little girl that this is [unacceptable]. She doesn’t care. She’s like, ‘Well let’s just chalk anywhere else,’ and I’m like, ‘No, no. They’re disrespecting your mother. Because, she gave you this name and they’re erasing it.’ You’ve got to be careful when you’re trying to teach your kid what a reasonable amount of vengeance is.” 

He appears to be very protective of Eva in general, even defending her over a bad joke she made about sweatpants.

16. Ryan constantly gives Eva her due, even when she doesn’t like it:

[’On the making of his directorial debut Lost River] “She hates credit and she’ll even be mad that I’m giving her that credit. But she was very helpful in so many ways.”

And he shared how she was responsible for one of the best lines out of La La Land:

“’LA worships everything and values nothing.’ That was something my lady said to me one day and I thought it was so funny I asked her if I could put it in the movie. She was kidding, but it’s a funny thing to say… I loved when she said it, because it’s funny enough to have some truth to it, you know? But it’s obviously a joke, so it just seemed appropriate for the movie.”

17. This adorable pic, taken at Ryan’s childhood home in Canada:

18. Possible ring situation happening here? How private they are compared to other celebrities, we’ll never know!

19. He really loves his family:

Are you rich, I ask him, halfway through our interview.

“What do you mean?” Gosling asks.

I’m not sure the question needs elaboration, but OK: do you consider yourself rich? Do you feel rich?

He pauses. “I mean, I live with angels,” he says eventually. “So. You know.”

What do you mean, you “live with angels”?

“My daughters” (Gosling has two children, a two-year-old and a nine-month-old) “My girl.” (The actress Eva Mendes, Gosling’s partner, the mother of his children.) “I don’t need anything else.”

20. And, of course, Ryan’s Golden Globes speech, where he acknowledges Eva’s silent, hard work behind the scenes, and honors her late brother:

So that’s it for this long-ass, long-winded post! That’s the last time I’m doing something like this!

Good luck at the Oscars, Ryan, you won’t win but hopefully you’ll have a good night! And hopefully with Eva! Never break up, ya crazy kids!

oh, baby [draco malfoy]

request: “Could u do Draco x reader with prompts 97 and 103 please? It would be so interesting plus I love your writing. You’re so cool xoxo” -anon

word count: ~3000

a/n: why thank u anon, i AM pretty cool! (kidding im actually SO lame like u dont even know omG) anyway i wrote this at like 3 am and im posting it at 5 am so. i’m a few hours late (like a day actually but who’s counting, NOT ME) but happy bday to the real OG man draco malfoy! now enjoy this hot mess of sleep deprivation, angst, snark, and marina and the diamonds inspiration

97: “i don’t want to have a baby.”

103: “i had to see you again.”

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INKED

INKED
[Zelo gets tattooed]
Rated: Mature

You sighed heavily turning the page of your book. You’d been bored out of your mind lately. A lack of motivation and inspiration was going to be the death of you. It was like you wanted to tattoo, but you just couldn’t find the right client.

You needed a new muse.

Sleepy walked up the narrow staircase holding a bag of from your favorite street cart. “Hey, I brought ya somethin~”

“Oppa!” you grinned seeing your older brother make his way inside “You can be amazing when you wanna be” you chimed reaching out for the bag. “Gimmie”

“Ah- say please” he held the bag just out of reach.

“Yah, Sleepy-Oppa! Give me my food you tree”

“Alright here” he set the plate of tteokbokki in your hand. “You really should consider eating something other than tteokbokki”

“Give me one good reason why?” you pouted, shoving the skewer in your mouth. “If you’ve already found perfection, why seek anything else?”

He groaned, raking a hand through his hair. “Why are you like this?” He made himself at home, flopping down on the tattoo bench, and resting his arms behind his head. “Where is everybody anyway?”

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A Brutal Subtext Behind 2CT

(Disclaimer: I’ve been feeling a bit more bloodthirsty because this arc has felt like a plastic plot line in a tin can. There’s such a lack of character depth/plot movement that I’m going stir crazy. We’ve literally dropped important characters in favor of a two dimensional villain and caricatures of who Ciel and Sebastian used to be. Yana has produced some quality work, complete with subplot tie-ins and *proper* character deconstruction but this arc feels like she isn’t even trying. But, moving on…

One of my favorite explanations of the 2CT theory stems from a post made by @dorkshadows (post here), where instead of having two loving brothers you have a fraternal relationship filled with anger, loathing, and jealousy on our!Ciel’s part. I don’t doubt their childhood had happy moments but I picture their dynamic to be more like Thor and Loki than say, Robb Stark and Jon Snow. Underneath all the affection and time spent together, I have no doubt that our!Ciel secretly despised his brother’s venerated position as the future heir to everything—the family name, company, lands, titles. Think about it, real!Ciel was the firstborn—the heir—and was probably the focus of everyone’s attention. Firstborn males are the most important family members—even more so than the patriarch. (To get an idea of how dismissive the Victorians were of second born sons, Consuelo Vanderbilt, wife to the 9th duke of Marlborough, nicknamed her sons “the heir and the spare.”)

To our!Ciel it must have been ten years of agonized longing—of silently seething and watching his brother get everything he’s ever wanted—that finally bubbled over during their time in captivity. When our!Ciel realized he finally had the chance to steal everything from real!Ciel, our!Ciel willingly sacrificed his brother to the cultists—even though he probably didn’t know a demon would appear as the result. This makes the entire situation all the more menacing—our!Ciel let the cultists take and kill his own brother without knowing a demon might appear. He let them take his twin out of pure, undiluted spite. It’s his way of saying “sure you were the heir to everything, sure you had mother, father, and Aunt Ann’s attention but now you don’t. There’s no one here but me—I’m finally in control and I get to see you perish first.”

It’s almost as if our!Ciel is Richard III—he certainly plays the part well enough. If we substitute real!Ciel for the princes in the tower (Edward V of England and his younger brother, Richard), then we get a dark parallel that’s made even more haunting by the fact that our!Ciel didn’t just end his brother life—he stole it right out from under him. And that relationship is the kind I want to see.

Something dark and sinister, full of vice, retribution, and the desire for revenge on both sides. (Cliched survivor’s guilt? No thanks. I’d take murderer’s guilt any day.*) We know our!Ciel is selfish—heck, he even admits it outright—but I want to see to what extent. How far will he go to protect his ill gotten gains? How many people will he kill/sacrifice/offer up just to achieve his own ends? (And I believe there’s a difference between Ciel burning a mansion full of lobotomized children he didn’t know and a potential confrontation with the twin who once had everything.)

Furthermore, how will real!Ciel react to all this? If he’s been brought back to life by Undertaker, he’s probably filled with betrayal, anger, confusion, and a desperate, unyielding desire to seek revenge—just like our!Ciel.

But this is real!Ciel. The happy, confident, extroverted heir—the one who was always meant to inherit everything. How will those three years—first in death, then in the Undertaker’s workshop, then at the Sphere Music Hall, and now, finally, brought back to life—how did it change him? If real!Ciel had always been the more charming, commanding “natural leader” of the two, then I don’t doubt he’ll use all his gravitas and strength to try and take our!Ciel down. But this lingering question remains—how far will he go? We know our!Ciel always had a survival instinct—something he’s probably honed since childhood (as mentioned by dorkshadows)—but real!Ciel never needed it.

He was the heir—he was going to get everything anyway. He never needed to be sly, duplicitous, cunning, or malicious. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have these traits—there is the very definite possibility that real!Ciel is more Machiavellian than our!Ciel—he just never acted on it. He never needed to. Our!Ciel blindsided real!Ciel by offering him up to the cultists and if real!Ciel’s actually back, then the playing field’s even (with real!Ciel having the dual advantage of surprise and three years of plotting). It’d be a violent, grotesque finale I don’t want to miss.


*To me, our!Ciel is like the thief who’s not the least bit sorry he stole but he’s awfully, awfully sorry he’s going to jail. (And yes, this is a quote from Margaret Mitchell’s Gone With The Wind.)


Note: I know a lot of 2CT theorists are going to hate on this post for being too dark/dramatic/implausible but this is Kuroshitsuji. The manga whose very premise began with a cult torturing and defiling a ten year old boy in order to summon a demon from hell. The story’s bound to get darker as it moves towards the end. And, from what I’ve seen, Yana seems to despise cliches—she does everything in her power to subvert expectations so to put in a cliched “I dost loved my brother, I did!” seems like a pale imitation of shock—the true driving force would be to explore just how dark our!Ciel’s mindset was when he sacrificed his brother and how dark their reunion is going to be. As always, discussion is welcomed but please refrain from using derogatory terms, unsubstantiated arguments, and unnecessary online cruelty. Thank you.

The king was shaded beneath a crimson canopy, one leg thrown negligently over the carved wooden arm of his chair. Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen sat behind him. In the back of the royal box, Sandor Clegane stood at guard, his hands resting on his swordbelt. The white cloak of the Kingsguard was draped over his broad shoulders and fastened with a jeweled brooch, the snowy cloth looking somehow unnatural against his brown roughspun tunic and studded leather jerkin. “Lady Sansa,” the Hound announced curtly when he saw her. His voice was as rough as the sound of a saw on wood. The burn scars on his face and throat made one side of his mouth twitch when he spoke.
— 

ACOK, Sansa I


Wait, wait, wait…  a jeweled brooch and snowy white cloak on a guy that never wears ornamentation except for his Hounds helm!?!  He absolutely disdains pageantry and displays of material wealth as much as knighthood itself.  This is a pretty large departure from his usual self.  He’s likely doing more than just announcing her presence because his mouth is twitching, his signature tell he’s thinking something he isn’t saying.  That just screams “look at me” and "notice me.”  Well, mission accomplished, because she does give him her attention, except she notes those details mostly as being out of character.  Sandor’s acceptance of the white cloak now seems to be more about impressing Sansa, rather just resigning himself to the fact he doesn’t have any wife or lands and thus nothing better to do.              

He was there when Barristan Selmy was “retired” from the KG and let his cloak fall to the floor.  Sansa knelt on that cloak and begged for mercy for her father.  That image connecting her to the exemplary reputation of Barristan, a living legend of a knight must have stuck with him.  Then he is later presented with the opportunity to replace Barristan, which he’s seen as someone Sansa holds in high regard.  He still wants to distance himself though from the other kingsguard by choosing wool instead of silk and satin cloaks and he doesn’t wear the white armor, but there’s still that snappy jeweled brooch!  This is how he wants Sansa to see him and deep down how he wants to see himself. 

Looking back on his bragging of saving Sansa in the riot to Arya, acting like a true knight for her was probably his proudest moment.  It’s why he was kinda salty about her being late to thank him and why he re-wrote history of her singing the song then to culminate the fantasy.   If the story had followed the formula in Sandor’s head, it would have gone like:  save the fair maiden < she’s grateful to her hero < perfect opportunity to win her heart < he’s rewarded with more intimacy with her.  Life is not a song, of course.  Sandor is now set up to have his own struggles with the white cloak just the same as Jaime and Barristan…

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anonymous asked:

When you said you can see what ed are trying to achieve with the current sl, what do you think that is?

ok so i’m going to do my best not to have this turn into a massive essay, but i have Thoughts anon and u asked for them. i’m going to leave aside the issues i have with this sl (there are a lot, tbf) and just talk about what i believe it’s trying to achieve at its very core.

ok, so aaron and robert dived back into their relationship without having had addressed a lot of their major issues, right? like, don’t get me wrong, their reunion was amazing, and i had a proper little cry at those scenes in my tiny lil bedroom in belgium (on the night i moved in and didn’t even have a duvet so it was emotional) and i think those reunion scenes are gorgeous, but they did go back into their relationship without having had addressed their many issues, and the effect of that started to show when rebecca turned up (because, she’s not necessarily a character in her own right when you look at this sl, her entire characterisation seems to be focused on aaron and robert, more or less. like, we’ve had no scenes about her dealing with this pregnancy when aaron and robert weren’t around, so it just #confirms that she was brought in solely to bring their issues to the fore.)

you see it begin in november, right? with robert being all flirty with rebecca to get his own way, and aaron being insecure about roberts past with rebecca, and it continues until it hits boiling point in january. aaron’s insecurities are at the heart of why he did what he did to kasim, and that episode feels like its their breaking point, until its not. they plaster over the cracks and they keep going, and its not a good thing for their relationship. 

so i think this storyline is forcing both aaron and robert to face up to their individual issues, and the issues that affect them as a unit. i don’t remember the exact quote, but didn’t danny say something about them facing up to the consequences of their actions in an interview? that’s what a lot of this sl is.

  • so, aaron has long since talked with his fists, not his words. he’s a character with a canonically violent past and he’s got a temper, and it’s never really been fully addressed until he is sent down for punching kasim. aaron is forced to face the consequences of years of ignoring his own mental health issues because he’s sent down for a year - a year without robert, his family, his friends. thats the ultimate consequence for him, and we see him go through hell in prison (undeservedly so, really, because how can aaron help what he’s been through.) anyways, aaron’s prison sentence is the consequence of his temper and the way he tends to bottle things up and not talk about it or address his problems.
  • then we have robert. robert is a character who’s long established in canon as a cheat, and a liar, and we’ve seen him try and change for the better over the past year or so, but his underlying tendency to flirt his way to what he wants is still there, and it makes aaron insecure, because aaron knows what robert is like. and, to quote robert’s own words, he hurts other people when he’s hurting, so when he’s angry, he decides to do what he does best and flirt someone into bed (something that has never had major consequence for him really, because despite losing chrissie, he did end up with aaron after the affair.) rebecca’s pregnancy is, for robert, the ultimate consequence of the way he lashes out, by cheating and manipulating. it’s turned out to be a situation he cannot cheat and manipulate his way out of - it’s something he’s going to have to deal with head on.

so this sl is bringing up their major individual issues and forcing them to address things neither of them have ever wanted to, but its also forcing them to communicate with each other. aaron and robert are bad at communicating. like, they tried in january, but in the end, they just ignored the root of their problems and kept carrying on as they were before, but now they’ve both faced these terrifying consequences of their actions, they’re forced to communicate in a way they never have done before. i think we saw that on thursday, when robert admitted his own guilt and told aaron what happened without being forced into it, and we saw it when aaron sat robert down and said he had questions he needed to ask.

baby aside, this storyline is all about the things that aaron and robert have never addressed in their relationship (the affair, robert’s history of infidelity, aaron’s temper, aarons mental health issues, his insecurities about robert and their relationship, roberts sexuality) and it’s forced them all to the forefront of their relationship when they’ve consistently been in the background of it, going unaddressed.

in my mind at least, this storyline is making them address the issues that are always going to stop them from being fully happy together. like i said, i’ve got issues with pacing and execution etc, but at its heart, i genuinely think thats what this storyline is, and what its trying to achieve. 

i hope that made sense!!

anonymous asked:

human klaroline at a party. klaus is talking to his friends when drunk caroline comes up behind him. she catches him by surprise when she grabs his hips and starts thrusting into him. klaus is embarrassed, his friends think it's funny. katherine recorded it on her phone and caroline is mortified after watching it. (inspired by kourtney kardashian's instagram video with kylie at. please don't judge me for keeping up with them).

I would never judge, Anon! I made some slight adjustments, but I hope you like it!


Mortified || Klaroline

Caroline awoke to the bang of her bedroom door opening, though the piercing pain in her temples quickly took precedence. “Ow,” she moaned. Pressing her face into the pillow helped to block the offensive morning light; unfortunately, it couldn’t do the same for her roommate.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Katherine teased, jumping onto the bed to throw off the covers.

Cringing from the onslaught of light and noise, Caroline reluctantly accepted her fate. “Hangover cure, please.” She held out her hand, grateful for the aspirin and the protein shake Katherine passed her. Choking down the chalky drink, Caroline winced when she finally opened her eyes. “What happened last night?”

“I’m so glad you asked.” Katherine smirked as she pulled up her Snapchat story. “Remember your adamant plan to finally suss out Klaus’s deal with you?” she asked smugly.

Caroline racked her brain for any memories of the night before, but they all ended around Kol’s birthday dinner with all their friends - and Klaus. “He showed up at the Grill late, right? I don’t know anything about a plan.”

Though she could guess.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

There is someone that is totally okay with continuing to tag their Kent hate. I mean, whatever. Blocked and all. But I find it ironic that they say that we HAVE to interpret Kent one way, but we HAVE to let people interpret other characters however they want. Like get over yourself, please. Yes, check please has a happy, queer romance story. But is it realistic? I can't say it is. I'm sorry if I want more hockey and more about the characters I'm already invested in. I'm not sorry that it's Kent.

YES! Super agree with all of these. Some things that came to me today:

1. On Check Please being a happy, queer romance story, I get that, but I think what bothers me the most is how inconsistent the writing of Check Please is in that regard. Because Ngozi says this is supposed to be an exploration of a world that Bitty can thrive, but it didn’t start like that at all. There are all sorts of issues that were presented in the beginning that were abandoned in pursuit of the love story that she wanted all along.

Jack’s mental health issue was there as a tragic backstory and insofar as it provided a vulnerable!Jack moment for Bitty and which leads to possibly more tragic backstory. But that very important facet to Jack just vanished along and was forgotten when it’s a valid consideration when they were outing themselves to his front office and teammates. Or take the fact that it was very possible that the added pressure of being closeted and being in a relationship was what drove Jack’s anxiety up a notch, as she hinted when she presented the vignettes of Jack and Kent’s relationship just before the draft–that didn’t all seem to matter because this is suddenly a world cured of homophobia when he presented Bitty as his boo. (Meanwhile, in the real world, millionaire Ryan Getzlaf repeatedly called a ref “cocksucker” and only got fined 10k and Anaheim fans are raising money to pay the fine.) Or that N introduced the idea that Jack had very real issues about meeting his father’s expectations –very real when he ignored the hell out of Bitty because Bitty scored a GWG– but wasn’t real when it’s a huge possibility that his hypermasculine dad could have objections to him outing himself for a few months’ old relationship . Or take the issue of Jack’s bisexuality. It was additional drama to pile on Bitty when he was insecure about their months-old relationship, but Jack’s bisexuality was never discussed, or how relevant that is in his situation as a closeted pro athlete. Or maybe that Jack is Bitty’s first relationship while it was said in the comic that Bitty wasn’t even ready to be out to his family yet–and yet that was forgotten when Jack practically convinced him they could be out, together. There are so, so many more points I could raise here, but what I’m trying to get at is that I see this canon as a series of writing decisions that opens up real, tangible issues, but fails to follow up on them, blatantly ignores them, in the guise of, hey this is supposed to be a happy story so no no no no drama. I’m here, like, 

me: but what about– 
canon: NO. NO DRAMA. NO

And it’s not as if those were issues are imagined, she wrote them in canon in the first place and then abandons them, leaving me unsatisfied and uneasy while there are so many loose threads flying about. But we’re supposed to ignore them because twu wuv, yeah?

2. I’ve said this before, but why not Kent? Kent is a closeted LGBT who loved a guy for years who just turned out to be buddyfucking him the whole time–he can’t even grieve properly? There is relatability to his heartbreak, complexity to his transformation from that soft-looking boy in his teen years to that night where he’s sharp and cold as he lashes out in anger. That Captain with a broken heart who tries to grapple at his remaining dignity by playing with every inch of the skill he’s learned lends himself to all kinds of possibilities that is exciting to explore. I love it (and I’m happy people love him too!), and his whiteness or his ‘problematic’ behavior shouldn’t be a deterrent to exploring his interiority, because that’s what fandom does! Fandom is precisely the proper space to explore what you want to explore because pushing all kinds of boundaries is what we do when we talk about and write stories that give layers to this character that they claim should be one-dimensional. Quoting some intelligent lady: You can’t keep telling yourselves and everyone else around you that this is a space where you come to to expand storylines and to push back against toxic cultural messages, and at the same time maintain that this is a line too far, that this is not something that is within your control.

3. Moreover, he’s a closeted professional athlete – and his story matters because his story has consequence. If there is an LGBT player right now in the NHL, they’re closeted and as trapped as Kent is in that situation. I feel like when I read Kent fics, most are fully cognizant and acknowledging of the brunt of being in that precarious situation, and that’s why they’re satisfying to me. Jack and Bitty’s story is in a bubble because they’re like in an alternate universe that isn’t remotely this one; the bubble that is modern capitalism is likelier to burst than Jack and Bitty’s little fantasy life. It’s like they exist in a vacuum devoid of real life common sense consequences. So sue me for wanting my stories having cause-effect.

4. I’m looking forward to Jack and Kent meeting again because there’ll be hockey, and I signed up here for hockey, which, for a hockey-themed comic seems scarce and inaccurate about. Though that might mean N will get to fulfill her Jack NHL Suksez Storyline when he finally is better than Kent because he’s powered by love and pies gags

Domestic!Kalagang Snippet #1

“Don’t. Move.”

The warning in Wolfgang’s deadly calm voice and the intensity of his gaze made her pause. For a moment she was ready to comply, she was willing to hold her breath so whatever he was afraid would happen if she didn’t, wouldn’t. She could hear a clock somewhere ticking despite the traffic outside, the humming of the coffee machine, and the noise coming from the television in the living room. She could hear them all at once but could still make out each noise as if it were the only sound in the house. She gazed into his vibrant blue eyes seeking reassurance that she was doing the right thing, that she was being good. She needed to know for sure. The slow nod he gave her made her exhale and as the air left her lungs, her shoulders slumped, and the moment was broken. 

“Daddy, it’s only a broken plate,” she said in a sudden role reversal where she was the one keeping him calm. “Things like this happen all the time and nobody dies from them,” she continued then waited for the lecture. She knew it was coming, from the tightening of his eyes, the flare of his nose and the tension in his shoulders. So, she waited all of two seconds and he didn’t disappoint. 

“It’s only a broken plate?” Wolfgang said incredulously. “Do you know what a shard of this plate could do to you?” he asked. He couldn’t believe how nonchalant she was about the whole situation. For a moment he thought she understood the danger, that she knew, but it appears he was wrong. He felt the need to explain to his beautiful six year old daughter why this broken plate was dangerous, and it really was despite what she says or thinks, so he started enumerating the hazards of stepping on a broken plate, quite animatedly too, as he crouched in preparation to pick up the pieces, “Sweetheart, you could cut your foot, or both feet for that matter, and you could bleed and you could need stitches and go to the hospital and what if you get really hurt and…”

“Wolfgang, stop!” Kala yelled from across the room as she rushed to his side and fell to her knees. “Oh no, this is bad,” she said, distressed, as she gestured towards the mess on the kitchen floor. 

“Hey, it’s fine. I got this.” Wolfgang whispered reassuringly as he rubbed her shoulder. 

“No, no, don’t touch this, Wolfgang, please,” she begged in a desperate whisper, “You don’t know what was on that plate.” She inhaled determinedly, “You need your hazmat suit,” she said then nearly fell to the back laughing at his expression. He shook his head disgustedly and got up. She followed suit then pulled his stubborn head down for a chaste kiss on the lips, “It’s only a broken plate and she’s not hurt.” 

He groaned, “Not you too!” he said to Kala, feeling betrayed, then turned to his child as she giggled and shook her head in fond exasperation. 

She didn’t know what a hazmat suit was but she could guess. She was smart and strong like both her parents. She thought her mum’s joke was really funny. “Can I move now, daddy?” she asked with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Both expressions she took from her dad. 

He sighed in defeat, “Yes, just stay close to the cabinets then move to the right and around the kitchen table.” he instructed as he kept his eyes glued to her bare feet while she followed the instructions. 

When she was finally in the clear, she walked over to her dad and hugged him around the waist. He crouched down to get a proper hug, and kiss the top of her head. “I love you, daddy, but you really need to relax,” she said and ran out of the kitchen before he started yet another one of his lectures. 

He shook his head with a smile then looked at Kala who seemed to be on the verge of tears. He immediately straightened then reached for her with concern etched on his face. She waved his worry away but let him hold her close. They had come a really long way from where they started and she couldn’t be happier. He pulled back, stared into her eyes the way that always made her heart melt, then kissed her. “Go on. I’ll clean this up,” he said then kissed her again. She nodded and left knowing better than to argue with him. She knew he’d treat the whole thing as if it were a crime scene. 

It took him 20 minutes. He sweeped 5 times and mopped 3, then stood leaning on the mop with a smug smile that said ‘There! Disaster averted.’ 

When a thud came from the boy’s room his heart nearly stopped, but that didn’t keep him from running to the boy’s room, followed closely by his two girls. 

End of snippet #1 

_______________ 

This is for you @gear65 because not only did you encourage me to write again, you also inspired this one. I never would have thought of writing Mummy!Kala and Daddy!Wolfgang if it weren’t for the quote you showed me. Thank you for that and I hope you like this despite it being written by me and with zero beta :D

Originally posted by amusementforme

Blessings (Jefferson x Reader)

Masterlist

Prompt 11- “Stay the night. Please.”

Words: 1,420 

“Still working?” You had let yourself into Thomas’ house and now sat on his bed which separated his study and the parlor.

“Yes, I fixing details on a new plan to propose to Washington tomorrow.” He was ruffling around with papers and hadn’t looked up at you. When he did, however, a huge grin spread across my face. “Though the sight of you in my bed makes me think I should take a break.” He walked over to you and kissed your hand.

“Sir. We talked about this. I’ve been given to another.” You avoided his gaze. 

“I know, and I said i would try didn’t I?” He gave you a meaningful look. 

“Maybe I should go…” You got up from his bed. 

“No stay please.” he grabbed your arm lightly. You looked down, and realized what he was doing and pulled it away. “I just have a few things to finish up and then we can do something together. okay?” His eyes were pleading with you. You sighed and agreed. He nodded and went back to his desk. Almost instantly you could hear the distinct sound of a quill scratching against paper.

You wandered over his bookshelves and started looking at the many different titles. You let your hand wander across the spines of several of them. You glanced at Thomas. He was hunched over his desk in a position you knew would ruin his back if he stayed that way too long. Loose curls fell all around his face, and his brows were furrowed in intense concentration. You smiled at the familiar scene.

You picked out a few books, read some lines, and decided that you weren’t in the mood for them. You prided yourself on your intelligence, and Thomas always said he admired a woman who wasn’t afraid to say she’s knows more than a man. You finally decided on Night Thoughts by Edward Young and settled in the large armchair next to a window in his study. You brought your legs up onto the chair and sat in a rather improper, but comfortable position. The book was splayed in your lap and you began to read the though provoking quotes. 

Soon you found yourself gazing out the window. It was late afternoon and the sun was shining directly through the window onto your skin.  The warmth felt so good. You felt Thomas’ gaze on you and turned to see him staring. He quickly looked away and started working again. You sighed. This situation was horrible. You knew how Thomas felt about you, though he never expressly said so because he never got the chance. You and Thomas had grown very close, and your sure that he had been about to ask permission to court you, when your father told you had found a wealthy husband and that you were to marry him in two months time. You were completely dismayed but nothing matched Thomas’ face when you told him. That was when your heart really broke, but you knew that you had to do this. This man has money and status. That’s what your family needs. 

So does Thomas. A voice in your head said. Thomas has immense wealth, and he’s Secretary of State for God’s sake. 

You shook the thought from your head. It was a done deal. Arrangements had already been made. The rational part of you told you stop coming to Thomas’s estate like this, as though nothing had changed, but the emotional part of you couldn’t keep your feet from walking out the door. 

“Edward Young?” Thomas had stood up. His desk was no longer in disarray. You nodded at him. He kneeled down by your chair so he was just below eye level with you.  “One of my favorites. ‘How blessings brighten as they take their flight.’” You recognized the quote. You also recognized the deep meaning it had for both of you at that moment. His eyes were so intense as they looked up at you. You had to stop this before you got carried away. 

“’A man of pleasure is a man of pains’” You quoted back. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Such intelligence to match such beauty.” he said quietly, but you still heard it, not sure if you were meant to. His eyes were so bright in the waning light, and it killed you inside. 

You are engaged to another. You reminded yourself.

You glanced out the window. The sky was orange at the horizon and it was turning a deep blue higher in the sky. 

“I should really go.” You only just realized how late it was. 

“Must you? I feel like you’ve only just arrived, my dear.” Thomas was at his desk again, putting papers in his briefcase. 

“I know Mr. Jefferson, but I can’t be caught at another man’s house this late. Even if his intentions are pure.” You rose from the chair and put the book back in it;s rightful spot. 

“Are my intentions pure though, Y/N?” You turned around quickly, shocked not only by his sudden use of your first name but also what his words implied. He wasn’t looking at you. He stared down at his desk, both hands clenched in fists and leaning against it. 

“I- what?”

“Don’t play dumb. You know I hate it when you dis credit yourself.” He finally looked out you. there was pain in his eyes. You kept your mouth shut, but stared at him. “I think my feelings for you have been made rather clear. I could not be outright with them because of how much it would complicate things, but I am beginning to care less and less about being proper and formal.” He ran two hands through his hair frustratedly. “Y/N, my feelings run deeper ever day. I did not view you a friend or as a woman I was almost with.” He stared pointedly at you. “I view you as the woman I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with. I can’t deny that anymore.” 

You had never seen Thomas so raw with emotion. You had seen him angry before, but it was always covered with snide remarks and confident smirks. You had seem him upset, but that side of him dissipated quickly. You were at a loss for words. He sighed and sat on the edge of his band with his head in his hands. 

You were very conscious of the various house aides that could walk by at any moment, but you cautiously walked over to him. 

“Thomas,” you placed a hand on his shoulder gently. He looked up at you desperately. 

“I love you.” he whispered like he was just fully realizing it for the first time. 

“Thomas, please don’t do this.” Your voice wavered. You could hardly stand to look at him.

“Y/N. Don’t marry him. You don’t deserve that. You deserve to marry for love.” He stood and placed a hand on either side of your face. You kept your eyes at his chest, refusing to look up at him. “Look at me, Y/N. Please just look at me.” You rarely heard his voice so quiet and caring. He lifted your face and you looked in his eyes. “I know you feel the same way. This doesn’t make any sense. You know how wrong it is. You know how right this is.” He took both your hands in his. 

“Thomas I-” Before you had the chance to tell him that it was impossible, he’d seized your lips with his. His brow was furrow like this kiss was causing him physical pain. You couldn’t help yourself any longer. You closed your eyes and tentatively leaned into the kiss. Your hand made it’s way to his face. You felt water fall on your cheeks, but you weren’t sure if it was your tears or his anymore. 

He pulled away after a moment, and you let out a small sob. 

“I need to leave.” You turned away from him quickly, but he managed to catch your arm anyway. 

“Y/N. I’m begging you. Just listen to what I have to say.” He paused, but you refused to speak. Tears were openly flowing down your cheeks. “Stay the night. Please.” 

All the things he said came flooding to you at once, as did all your happy memories together. You knew the time you had left with Thomas was limited. You turned back at him. He looked so desperate. You bit your lip. This was going to ruin your life. 

“Okay.”

Playing Pretend has finally come to a close… I feel like it’s been forever, but I finally got the courage to finish this. Thank you to everyone who has loved and supported and stuck with this story. I really couldn’t have done it without you!! As always, thanks to my eternal hype squad–Admins Ellie and Alyx and my best girl, Hanna. You ladies are the best! Reminder, this is from Daichi’s POV and is under a cut for length.
~Admin Emma

Playing Pretend Epilogue
{Part 1}{Part 2}{Part 3}{Part 4}{Part 5}{Part 6}{Part 7}{Part 8}{Part 9}{Part 10}{Kuroo Special}{Kuroo Special 2}{Asahi Special}


Two Years Later

Keep reading

Laughing at the Rain ~ Hakuouki Vignettes ~

by ImpracticalOni
4th Entry in Hakuouki Vignettes

Words ~ 1700 | AO3 Link | Fanfiction Link


Author’s Note:

For @thesweateristoobig ~ Happy Birthday! ~ I hope you enjoy this!

Prompt: “can you give me a little Heichi fluff… based around this song: Fireflies by Ron Pope”

Quote (verse 1 & chorus):

“Fireflies”

When the street lights come on and the fireflies flicker
I am walking her home
Making plans

With her shoes in her hands I am watching her dance
As the hem of her dress gently kisses the grass

It suddenly rains on us
She is laughing and turns up her hands

Like autumn turns leaves
Winter will breathe cold on our necks
Snow in our paths
Wherever she goes
All that I know about us is that beautiful things never last
That’s why fireflies flash


Laughing at the Rain

It had been a strange afternoon. Shinpachi had come to see them, and at first Heisuke hadn’t been sure quite how to behave or what to say. After all, he was still a fury—more or less, although it seemed to be rather less than more these days—and Shinpat had been against the furies, even against Heisuke’s taking the ochimizu to save his life. But without the ochimizu, Heisuke could not have defeated Sannan-san. He couldn’t have sat in a sun-dappled garden with his friend drinking sake almost a year after the war had ended. He wouldn’t have Chizuru.

Chizuru had put things right, as she so often did. She had cried when Shinpachi had arrived, looking curiously about him as though unsure that he had arrived in the right place. When the two men had greeted each other awkwardly and traded cautious smiles she had laughed at them and scolded them and dropped everything to make Nagakura-san (“please, just Shinpachi is fine!”) comfortable so that he could talk with Heisuke. She had cried again, of course, when Shinpachi had told them that Saitō was alive. They had heard the news of Hijikata-san’s death, but not the news that Hajime-kun had somehow, miraculously, survived the slaughterhouse of Aizu. Heisuke had wanted to cry as well—it was such an indescribable relief to know that they weren't all dead.

They had invited Shinpachi to stay the night, but he had declined.

“I have other business in the area,” he’d told them, although it was unlikely to be true. “I’ll come back another time, though.”

Chizuru had believed the last part; Heisuke wasn’t so sure. He’d walked quite a ways down the path toward the road with Shinpachi when he’d left. Away from Chizuru, they were less at ease, but they could drop the pretence. They could discuss the fact that Shinpachi had been a fugitive for over a year, although he was likely to be pardoned shortly, along with Hajime-kun. And Shinpachi could ask him directly how he was finding life as a fury. The question had been hovering between them all afternoon, really.

“Not so bad, I guess,” Heisuke had told him, shrugging. “I don’t mind the sun now, which is great, but I get tired pretty easily during the day still, which kind of sucks. Also… I’m not sure how long I’ll be around, you know? So I worry about Chizuru.”

“Do you want me to keep an eye on her?” Shinpachi had asked, accepting the truth of Heisuke’s situation without wasting time on exclamations. His tone had been sympathetic, and as genuine as Heisuke had ever heard it.

For a moment, Heisuke had wrestled with unexpected jealousy—he didn’t want anyone to look after Chizuru but him. But he’d overcome it quickly.

“Yeah… I’d appreciate that. She’ll probably be okay though. And who knows? We may still have a lot of years ahead of us. You know me—I like to venture into the unknown kind of thing.”

“Still Master Forerunner?”

“Yeah, kind of. We have a good life, though. Don’t really need to chase stuff much these days.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how you’ve stayed so scrawny, really, with Chizuru-chan feeding you up like that and nothing to do but loaf around!”

The rest of the conversation had deteriorated into inconsequentialities. Important inconsequentialities though, if there were such a thing. It was still a little weird. Those last two years had changed everything—their lives, their livelihoods, their goals… Japan itself. Only after Heisuke had said his final goodbyes and turned to go back to Chizuru had Shinpachi stopped him and told him, haltingly, that at some point in the future he thought he’d like to at least dedicate proper monuments to Kondō-san and Hijikata-san.

“We didn’t always agree,” Shinpachi had muttered, as though dedicating monuments was somehow shameful, “but they were damn good warriors. They… they deserve to be honored like the samurai they wanted to be, you know? It’s too bad that they—Kondō-san mostly, I guess, but Hijikata-san was his man through and through—well, it’s too bad that they kind of got to be a little bit too much like the old samurai if you know what I mean.”

Heisuke had just nodded. His own time with the Shinsengumi hadn’t exactly been without its difficulties and differences of opinion. But he had grieved over Kondō-san’s merciless beheading and Hijikata-san’s death in the far north on the isle of Ezo. They had been titans, and they had also been men that Heisuke had known personally, had obeyed loyally and had admired deeply.

He returned to find Chizuru waiting for him, her face calm, but her eyes a little worried. He’d wound his arms around her and they’d stood like that for several minutes, enjoying the very last rays of sunlight and the touch of a cool evening breeze.

“Let’s walk, Heisuke.”

“Yes.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “How do you feel?”

Chizuru smiled at him and pushed a stray piece of hair behind one ear, a futile gesture, as she well knew. He was happy that she cared; so very happy that she wanted to be with him. He straightened and pretended to frown, which only made her laugh.

“I’m fine, just fine. I even managed a short rest once you and Nagakura—I mean Shinpachi-san—got to talking in earnest.”

“I’m glad,” Heisuke murmured, trying not to feel guilty that they’d ignored Chizuru for long stretches of time over the afternoon. Not that she would have minded; if anything, she was probably pleased that they’d managed to relax together for a while—he and Shinpat-san, that is. However… “I can’t help but worry.”

“I know. But I feel perfectly well, and quite rested, and I want to see the fireflies down by the river.” Seeing that he still looked a little uncertain, she tucked her hand into his. “I expect the baby would like to see the fireflies too…”

That made him laugh, even though the idea of Chizuru being pregnant still scared him whenever he thought about it too closely. Especially since if anything went wrong—and things did go wrong, sometimes—it would be his fault. Well, his fault that she was pregnant in the first place. Involuntarily, he glanced sideways at the girl beside him. Even now, she looked too young and too innocent to be living with him like this and especially too young to be a mother.

Chizuru tugged at his hand. “I know what you’re thinking. But you know, Shinpachi-san didn’t call you a ‘kid’ once this afternoon. That’s pretty amazing, really.”

“Well I'm not a kid!” Heisuke replied reflexively. He grinned ruefully. “Yeah, I get it. Even old Shinpachi-san could tell that we’ve grown up a bit. Alright, let’s walk. But it’s not a river. A creek at most!”

It was a long-standing and entirely amiable argument. They held hands the whole time, picking their way along the now-familiar path to the river-creek that provided Heisuke with the water that seemed to have partially reversed at least some of the effects of the ochimizu. When they got to the water, they walked along the bank, greeting their favourite trees, admiring the way that the flowers grew especially well in one particular place, pointing out the birds heading home to their nests for the night. Fish leapt into the air from time to time, feeding on softly buzzing clouds of insects.

Eventually, they saw the fireflies, dancing around one particularly gnarled white willow. With a quiet hum of delight—as though she hadn’t seen them many times before!—Chizuru started to hurry forward. Heisuke caught her up short and put his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

“A kiss for good luck first.” He’d gotten better at telling her what he wanted, and it had worked out well for them. An unexpected flicker of desire made him blush when she tilted her face up towards him without hesitation.

Soft lips, soft skin… the scent of the day’s warmth in silky dark hair. The mood shifted as his kiss became more passionate and less playful. They’d learned each other’s needs and wants over the past two years, and Chizuru obviously sensed his unsettled state. Her fingers stroked his neck and wound themselves in his brown hair. After several minutes, they broke apart slightly.

“Ah… the fireflies will be here another night,” Heisuke suggested tentatively.

“Impatient?” Her teasing was always very gentle, and he loved the fact that he was the only person that she teased.

“A little.” He was about to say more, when the breeze suddenly carried the scent of rain to him and he noticed that the fireflies had disappeared. “I think we’d better hurry—because of the rain, of course.”

Chizuru looked puzzled for a moment and then she blinked as a drop hit her cheek. “Oh!” With a laughing glance back at her lover she darted away toward the house. He caught up to her with ease, thanks to her rather confining kimono, and swung her up into his arms.

“Now then. Home!”

Chizuru laughed up at him. She was so much more open with her smiles now that it was just the two of them. He loved it. He loved her. He wished that they could be together forever and then set that thought ruthlessly aside. Right now he had everything he wanted. Why waste time demanding more?

[END]


A/Note: All comments here or on FF or AO3 are much appreciated!
~ImpracticalOni


@shell-senji @fury-ous @queen-mizera @kazama-hime @hakusaitosan@tealdeertamer @very-x-vice @sabinasanfanfic @walk-tall-my-fr1ends@hakuokifirst @annahakuouki @eliz1369 @canadiangaap

the morning after

about five of my friends and i were just casually chilling around the coffee table @ 3 am last night (morning) talking about what we would do if any of us ever hooked up with harry. don’t ask, idk either. but that’s how this got thrown together. i should be doing homework right now btw. i hate harry styles a lot (jk i love that bitch) 

WARNINGS :: a lot of this is literally just “texts” but you know i like to think i have a sense of humor so :-) like i said this is what i, ME PERSONALLY, would do if i ever hooked up with harold (lol) soooooo keep that in mind lmfao. 

don’t know how i feel about this one (questions my entire thought process) but hey! it’s something and i haven’t posted in a while :) enjoy (;

O V E R V I E W 

“Lady in the streets, freak in the sheets or summat like tha’?”

He gets a playful shove and the roll of her eyes as she tries not to laugh at that. What a fuckin’ dork (which, in truth, just makes him all the more perfect to Y/N.)

“You’re a comedic lad, aren’t ya?”

She didn’t get crushes very easily, but it seems Harry was just the right amount of charming to have her falling faster than Alice did chasing after that damn rabbit.

or

Y/N doesn’t do one night stands and Harry truly and honestly believes she’s a proper angel or something. 

Keep reading

Ai’s Soliloquy

I had intended to do an analysis on this in the future but seeing as many of the asks we’ve received are pertaining to this, I decided I would post it before posting any of our other analysis’.

Ai’s soliloquy seemed to be the big thing everyone zoomed in on when this chapter came out. Immediately, ZeKi’s made an analysis about how Ai was paralleling her unrequited love to Kaname and how Yuuki never loved Kaname. That because his love was unrequited, that’s why he threw his heart into the furnace and the rest of it.

This is absolutely absurd. 

It completely undoes the whole plot of Vampire Knight. Let us for a moment remember what Vampire Knight was in it’s truest essence. For me, this is the first arc. This was when Hino had a precise plan for what she wanted for Vampire Knight, the characters had been freshly modeled and developed, the plot was straightforward, there was no “reading between the lines”, and overall, Vampire Knight was well, the Vampire Knight that everyone fell in love with and why the fans of today have stuck with it for as long as they have.

Looking back then, you see Vampire Knight was about a proper love triangle. Meaning, Yuuki is in love with both Kaname and Zero. Who she loves more is debatable but obviously, I’m going to say that she loves Kaname more. To me, this is proven by Hino’s portrayal of Yuuki’s thoughts and actions. All the way up to when Yuuki gave up her life, her love for Kaname was passionate and showed all the readers just how deep a love can move someone.

If you don’t think my opinion is good enough then let’s look at all the times Hino took it upon herself to show us that Yuuki loved Kaname. Which she hasn’t really done with Zero and Yuuki yet since Yuuki has never said quote on quote “I love him” or “I love Zero”. 

I put a “Keep Reading” because the analysis and the pictures I use in said analysis make this post so long and because I don’t want to clog everyone’s dashboard, please continue to read below. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hey so, I'm kind of afraid that I've been hexed. Recently everything it seems has just gone completely and utterly wrong. Do you know anyway to detect it for sure or to undo it? I don't know if it's my paranoia, but it's better to be safe that sorry

I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but everyone goes through rough (or even downright horrific) patches in life, and it often happens for no reason at all, rather than due to a curse or hex. Online, if you come to most witches with a question like this, they’ll tell you not to worry or fret because you’re likely not hexed, and your life will turn around soon enough. 

This was my approach to questions like yours for quite some time. I realized, though, that in most cases, I’ve not got all the information about what’s going on, and it’s possible that there could, indeed, be a curse. After all, curses are, in fact, a real thing, so it’s reasonable to assume that at least some of the folks who worry that they’re cursed might actually be. Thus, now, I have a different philosophy towards the question of possible curses and hexes.

To me, it doesn’t matter if there’s an actual curse or hex. If you feel cursed, you will likely benefit from taking measures to break a curse, regardless of whether you’re just experiencing normal bad luck or the effects of an actual spell. This is because most measures to break hexes tend to involve banishing, cleansing, warding, and protective measures. All of these, when used properly, are equally effective at simply turning your luck around as they are at breaking a curse. 

There’s little risk in acting (in terms of magical practice) under the assumption that you’re cursed. I would be careful assuming that a curse actually objectively has been thrown at you, though. That can often lead to yes, paranoia and suspicion, which can alienate your friends and just make you incredibly unhappy overall. 

For this reason, I recommend thinking less about “Who could have done this to me?” and more along the lines of “How can I improve things?” instead. You specifically ask for ways to detect a curse, and while there are methods for doing this, I cannot in good conscience recommend them. Most involve pretty subjective divination techniques, and again, “confirming” might just lead to increasing paranoia. 

One good idea, though, would be to do an extremely general reading of some sort. I don’t know if you do any kind of divination, but Tarot or even Lenormand are pretty ideal for this, as are plenty of other systems that can be used to give a general portrait of your life. Avoid “yes/no” systems where you’ll be tempted to ask, “Am I cursed?” and instead, just pull cards or scry with the question being something like, “What can I do to improve my life?” 

I really, really suggest you do this by yourself or have a trusted friend read for you. I also strongly feel that it’s best if no money changes hands in this context, because, like it or not, some unscrupulous people often prey upon those worried about curses, doing a “reading” to prove there’s a curse and then demanding money in order to help “break” it. I’ve never had a problem with people charging for divination or magical services, but grifters exist, and in certain situations a person can be more vulnerable to them than in others.

Take stock of what the cards or divination tools are saying to you, and relate it to your own life in a manner that you normally would. Do not specifically look for it, but if you see something in the reading that implies a curse, be sure to consider alternative ways of viewing the reading, and even then, don’t jump to conclusions. Be particularly careful and skeptical about any image or sign suggesting that a specific person is to blame, because it’s so easy to get such things wrong even if you’re the world’s best diviner. My point is, do a reading that focuses on finding solutions, not causes.

With the results of the reading (if you decided or were able to do one) in mind, You can begin working on fixing things - lifting the “curse,” whether or not it was ever cast. The methods I’m going to suggest are pretty general, but there’s room to insert your own techniques or tailor them to your situation specifically.

In this post, I discuss the notion of the “evil eye” and curses throughout history, and offer some traditional (as well as some innovative) solutions to the problem. It may be helpful, though it was written many years ago when I was in a weird place in my life and had a very different attitude towards magick. Though the eye symbols an amulets mentioned might be helpful, the part I mention at the end always seems pretty sensible when it comes to escaping a particularly nasty curse, real or not. I’ll quote it below.

Basically, change yourself entirely. Buy some new clothes that are in a radically different style than those you wore previously, and wear them. Buy different self-care products than you usually use (deodorant, shampoo, etc), ideally in a form very different. For example, if you always wash with tea tree shampoo, try buying some dollar store brand. Dye your hair, cut it - try to look like a completely different person. You may even want to adopt a new name, like, for your blog, or temporarily (if they’re up for it) ask your family to call you something else. Friends, too.

Sounds ridiculous, huh? I think it’s a bit ridiculous, but I’ve heard people swear it works. The idea is that any curse (or even the Evil Eye) that was cast would have been targeted at you specifically, and that, by changing yourself, the curse or Evil Eye loses focus and can no longer harm you. It’s all quite superstitious, but I thought I’d mention it. One (vaguely chaote) website that mentions this method calls it a “sloppy dodge.”

I realize this method isn’t going to be feasible or practical for everyone, but it’s also open for personal interpretation. The goal is to change yourself so that the curse or bad luck finds you unrecognizable. This needn’t take the form of the examples listed above specifically, and may merely involve something like experimenting with a different worldview or developing a new hobby. It’s an idea worth mentioning, because I know many people who swear it works.

The method I usually use when I find myself in a bad place and nothing seems to go right is a little different, though. While I’ve never felt I was specifically cursed, if I feel I’ve got bad luck glommed onto me, I have certain procedures I use to get rid of it. They’re outlined in this post, but what I’ve written there isn’t meant to be slavishly followed - rather, read it for ideas and some of the techniques you might try. 

If you’re comfortable with using herbs and botanicals, try cleansing with Four Thieves Vinegar - I’ve yet to find anything that works better for me personally, though analogues exist in many traditions. Depending on the specific formulation of the Vinegar that you end up making and using, you could sprinkle it, clean with it, mix it into a floorwash, or any number of things. If you use non-toxic herbs, it can even be consumed as a salad dressing. I’ve written a bit about the lore surrounding it in this post.

A lot of people don’t like  working with herbs and chemicals, though, and that’s alright, of course. I have gone through periods in my life where I made heavy use of physical ingredients in magick, and also times when I used mostly my bare hands. There are a million different ways to do this, but one that’s always been a go-to method for me an some of my friends would be a traditional banishing ritual such as the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram or Star Ruby.

I’ve written a bit about these and the different forms that exist here. Suffice to say, almost all traditions have a general banishing ritual, and if yours doesn’t (or you follow no organized tradition), writing your own or adapting one is always a great option. In the video, you’ll notice that the person is wearing a robe and there are tools, but these are hardly necessary for the operation and most people who do these rituals do them with nothing but their bodies and a sense of direction/balance.

Both the Four Thieves Vinegar and the rituals mentioned are, well, banishing. Banishing is good and all for ridding a situation of whatever currently fills it (in this case, your bad luck), but nature abhors a vacuum, and too much banishing with nothing else included just leaves you open for more problems. To remedy this, I recommend invocation of some sort directly following any banishing or cleansing exercises you might do. Any force that you want to bring in to help fix things is a good choice, and while I don’t know you well, in this situation I would probably choose to invoke Solar forces. Venus or Jupiter might work well, also. Below is a herbal recipe that you can follow after the Four Thieves Vinegar - it uses plants to invoke Solar forces. Other options include classical invocations such as the Supreme Invoking Ritual of he Hexagram for the Sun, or writing your own. 

In various combinations tailored to your needs, and with proper intent and focus, these methods should be effective, but they aren’t the only ones. I do recommend doing your own research into breaking curses and runs of bad luck, as well. As I said, though, I can’t really recommend you do anything designed to ferret out the curse-thrower or even confirm whether a curse exists or not objectively. Just operate under the assumption that it might, and, as you’ve said, it is better to be safe than sorry.

A Spell for Bringing About Consequences

“The complete freedom.

The lack of consequence.

It terrifies you.”

This spell is for those situations where one person or another has gone on too long without their actions having proper consequences.

Perhaps that person you know has been slowly stealing from the place you work for yet despite all evidence just cannot seem to be caught. Perhaps a pot-stirrer who never seems to be affected by the rumours they spread. Perhaps you when for some time it feels like your actions have no effect on the world.

This spell is for reacquainting them with the world, where every action has an equal and opposite reaction. No one can live in a sand box forever, free from consequence; everyone must come home at some point and face up to what they have done or reap the rewards of their training.

"Life has become out of focus, free of consequence.”

You will need:

  • A sword (/knife/letter opener)
  • A representation of your target*
  • Utter faith that every action must have a consequence
  • Empathy for your target^
  • A bowl
  • A rainy day

*Try and get some hair of theirs in it, A photo or poppet will do, or you can capture their reflection (get their reflection in a charmed mirror and then cover it up until it is needed). A signature also, or just their name will do in a pinch probably if that’s all you have. n.B. if the target is you, you don’t need a representation.

^This is an “ultimate good” sort of spell, or a “world order” spell if you prefer that wording. The results may or may not be pleasant, but it is not healthy for either the individual or the society for someone to live outside of consequence. You are doing what is best for them by bringing them back.

“All at once, the consequences. All at once you are no longer free.”

When it is raining, go outside with your sword, bowl and representation. Somewhere private is best. Place the bowl down where it will fill up with rain. Place the representation down and point your sword at it. If you are the target, CAREFULLY hold the blade between your palms, tip pointing towards your forehead. Say the following, replacing “you” with “me” and “your” with “my” as necessary:

Every action has a reaction. Every move has a consequence.

As this rain wets me, so shall the consequences fall on you.

No more shall you have the complete freedom to do anything in this life;

No more shall you live apart from the cycle of action and reaction;

No more shall your actions have no effect on the world or be unaffected by it.

Pick up the bowl in your other hand. If you are holding the sword towards your forehead, put it down first (also do so if you can’t hold the bowl steady in one hand). Hold it above the representation, or your head. Say:

As this water falls on your head, so shall you feel the effects of your actions.

The consequences are inescapable.

So be it.

Pour the collected rainwater on the representation, or your head. Don’t miss.

Over the coming weeks the consequences that seem to have been lacking will all come around.

“All at once, the consequences. All at once you are no longer free. It all makes sense and you are finally being punished.

You can’t think of a time you have ever been happier.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you know anything about Portia's life apart from what we know from Julius Caesar? I'm pretty curious about her and she seems like such an interesting character.

Hi Nonny! Sorry I took so long to answer, I was at school literally all day.

So, Portia. Her proper name in Latin is Porcia Catonis, as her father was Marcus Porcius Cato the Younger. We’re not sure of her birth year since dating is a little sketchy in that time of the Republic, but she was born c. 70 BCE. She had a brother, Marcus. Their mom cheated on their father, so Cato divorced her. Cato, I should note, was the half-brother of a woman named Servilia, whose son and oldest child of four (three daughters) was named Marcus Junius Brutus. Porcia was initially married to her father’s colleague, a member of the bonii (the party opposing the rise of Julius Caesar), Marcus Calpurnius Bibulus. She may or may not have been the mother of his youngest son, Lucius, although most modern scholars think that she wasn’t. At one point, an old guy named Quintus Hortensius asked Cato if he could have Porcia be divorced from Bibulus and given to him to give him an heir since Porcia wasn’t exactly making any babies with her husband. Cato found that pretty ridiculous, instead divorcing his second wife, Marcia, and letting Hortensius marry her. When Hortensius died, Cato got Marcia back.

So around the end of the Civil War between Pompey and Caesar, Bibulus (who supported Pompey) died. Then Cato killed himself at Utica. This is where I have to go back to Porcia’s half cousin, Marcus Junius Brutus. Brutus had been married to someone else to, a lady named Claudia Appia. At no point did this produce any kids, and they apparently didn’t have much a relationship beyond the alliance between Brutus and the Appian family (remember that most marriages here are for politics). After Utica, Brutus divorced Claudia without really giving a good reason, which pissed some people off (including his mother, but I’ll get to that) and soon married Porcia. He was in good favor with Caesar, Cato’s enemy, so this marriage wouldn’t be all that much help politically. Brutus said it was to honor Cato, and it’s pretty obvious that he loved Porcia and she loved him (I will refrain from fanboying, that’s my favorite ship).

Okay, so Brutus is happy, Porcia is happy, even nosy old Cicero is happy with the marriage. Someone isn’t though. That’s Brutus’s mother, Servilia. Now, Servilia hated her half-brother Cato’s guts, AND at one point was the lover of Julius Caesar. She seems to pretty much hate Porcia too, possibly in part because she was jealous of Brutus’s affection for her, plus the whole I-hate-your-dad thing. In the novel series Masters of Rome, this is portrayed as physically abusive, although that’s not confirmed historically. All we really know is that Servilia and Porcia did not get along, it may not have been as bad as some fictional portrayals have suggested.

Okay, if I haven’t lost you yet, that brings us up to the assassination of Caesar, in 44 BCE. You mentioned Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. Shakespeare’s main source was Thomas North’s translation of Plutarch’s Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans, primarily the chapters on Caesar, Antony, and Brutus. What Shakespeare writes for Portia (I’ll use his spelling for his character) comes from the section on Brutus. The thigh scene and her panicking on the day of the assassination are recorded in Plutarch and used in the play. However, Shakespeare compresses a great deal for the sake of time, and he doesn’t mention really when Brutus, Cassius, and some of the other conspirators left Rome but were still in Italy.

One interesting story about Porcia survives from this time, where in the house they were staying in had a painting of Hector and Andromache, from Homer’s Iliad. In that party, Hector leaves for the final leg of his life in the Trojan War, and he hands their baby to his wife. Andromache told Hector basically that he was everything to her, and Hector told her not to worry about him, but do her stuff like overseeing the house and weaving. Well, Porcia often sat in front of that painting and cried because she realized how similar it was to her situation, since Brutus was going to have to leave soon, and possibly would never come back (spoiler alert, Hector never came back). At one point, Brutus, Lucius Bibulus, and one of Brutus’s older friends found her. Brutus’s friend quoted Andromache’s line “You, Hector, are father and mother and brother to me, as well as my beloved husband.” (Iliad, 6.430). Brutus tried to comfort Porcia and said he would never tell her what Hector told Andromache. This story, recounted in Plutarch, apparently comes from a book Lucius wrote about his stepfather, called Brutus.

So Brutus left Italy and raised an army in Greece, leaving Porcia in Italy. She died most likely in 43 BCE, of either sickness or, more traditionally, suicide. If she died while Brutus was alive, this is collaborated by a letter Cicero sent Brutus, expressing sympathy. Cicero said “What you have lost has no equal on this earth.” If this letter really was written by Cicero, it places her death before Brutus’s, since Cicero was killed in 43 BCE. The matter of her death is sketchy too, because some say she killed herself upon being falsely informed of Brutus’s death, some say when she was told after he really died, and then there’s the possibility that she died before Brutus. Traditionally, she is said to have swallowed burning coals (the death Shakespeare uses), although most scholars today say that she probably burned charcoal in an unventilated room. Or she just got sick. 

Lucius, her stepson (I vote stepson) lived after the deaths of the people involved in the assassination. There’s some record that Brutus and Porcia had a baby boy, who died in 43 BCE, so Shakespeare’s comment about Portia’s “weak condition” may indeed mean pregnancy, which is what many productions use. That was the end of the line for Brutus and Porcia, sadly.

So there you go, a quick (okay, pretty long) overview of the life of Porcia. I think she’s really fascinating, she really deserved better. If you’d like more fictional depictions of her, she appears in Colleen McCollough’s Masters of Rome which, while taking several (I think really big) liberties, gives us some cute scenes with her and Brutus; and an even better book, The Ides of March by Thornton Wilder has several parts with her, giving what I think is a more accurate depiction.

Aaaaaaannyyyywaaaaay I hope this answered your question and if you ever have any other Rome related questions, don’t hesitate to ask me!

#222: You Work For Them And He Fancies You

A/N:

Requested: Yes, but then again, can’t find it 

This one was really fun thank you so much to the anon requesting it, I’m trying to get all my requests done before 2017 (I know already that it won’t happen but hey here’s to new years resolutions) and if you want you can always leave a request in my ask and I’ll try to do it :-) x 

Find my Masterlist here // Read When We Collide here

Luke:

”You must be a banana because I find you a peeling!” Your head rose up by the sudden words, confusion written on your face when nobody was to be seen in the otherwise large backstage area. “You get it? Because you peel a banana and I find you attractive.” Your eyes landed on the door where Luke was peeking his head inside, a ridiculously smile embracing his face features. “You again with the lame pickup lines.” You hummed and focused back on the paper work in front of you, you didn’t have much time until they had to be on stage and you had promised John you would finish this before the start. “Yes here I am once again trying to impress you yet so far the only thing I’ve gotten is a small glance.” He exclaimed and walked further into the room, taking a seat on the coffee table in front of you. “I am working Luke, in case that didn’t come to your attention. I appreciate the effort but those dumb pickup lines won’t win my heart.” You glanced up shortly to look at him with serious eyes but it only seemed to encourage him even more. “You know I’m only continuing until you actually say yes.” “Well you’re gonna have to try a little bit harder then.” You smiled, enjoying how he was suddenly tensing his jaw and looking down at you with a serious expression. You sincerely hoped that it was enough to make him shut his mouth and your attention went back to the paper work in front of you. “Okay fine let me try another one.” “Nope, okay.” You mumbled more to yourself than him by his announcement and let the pen fall onto the papers. You watched him with a quivered eyebrow as he backed away until he was a few meters away from you and started to walk forward. “Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again?” He was purposely looking at you like he was actually trying to seduce you but when there was no reaction he decided to go back again and try all over. What he hadn’t taken notice of during the process was the table with a bowl of fruit standing right behind him, his ass literally connecting into it and knocking down all the content. You watched him with wide eyes as he turned around in reaction with panic in his eyes, mouth agape by the ridiculous move and leaned down to grab them all and put them back into the bowl. “Erase that, erase that, I’ll try again in half an hour.” He rushed to back away and out of the door, accidentally knocking his knee into it and cursing under his breath while hearing you laugh by his clumsiness in the background. “You just try again Hemmings I’ll just sit here and wait.” You hummed, rolling your eyes in amusement and heard as he shut the door with a last curse.

Calum:

“Remind me again why you won’t say yes to go out with me?” A huge sigh came from your lips by the question he had seemed to ask at least 30 times during the past four days, giving him a short glance over your shoulder before grabbing a microphone stand and placed it in the middle of the stage. “Remind me again of why you keep asking?” Unknowing of where you were heading his eyes suddenly widened by his feet tangled up in some wires from the guitar amp, untangling himself from the mess and hurried towards you by the drum kid. “Because you’ve never given me a proper answer.” Calum argued and leaned his arm on one of the amps, trying to play it casual but it wasn’t really helping on the situation. “I have.” You replied and took a seat down by the bass drum, giving it a few hits and looked down by John to see if he made thumbs up for the sound being perfect. “Saying, and I quote; ‘no way in hell that’s gonna happen’ isn’t really a proper answer if you ask me.” “But I didn’t ask you.” You mumbled concentrated and stood up to head towards the microphones again, grabbing one and connected it to a wire. You had been stressing out all morning because you were late and soundcheck was almost creeping around the corner. You didn’t have the time to talk to Calum but he definitely didn’t understand that and to make you stop just for one second he grabbed the microphone from you and managed to twirl the wire around your waist. His face expression told that he wouldn’t bug, he waited for an answer and wouldn’t loosen the wire around you before. You sighed deeply and rolled your eyes, a hand coming down to touch your hip and pointed at him with your microphone. “I’m your sound tech’s assistant, remind me again of why you’re so interested in me?” A smirk came to his face by your question, deciding to inch his face closer to yours. “Because I like a challenge and with you constantly being near me and being a reject, I crave for more especially with that wonderful attitude of yours. Besides Y/N. I fancy you as hell.” You hadn’t realized how you were suddenly holding your breath as his face inched closer and closer to yours, your noses at the point of almost touching each other. There was no words spoken between you but the smirk on his face was growing knowing that even if you were constantly disagreeing whatever he had to say, now something was working and he had your attention. “I need to get back to work.” The words didn’t come out as convincing as you wanted to and neither did you have that same attitude as before. His eyes lit up by your words and let go of the wire completely, winking at you and leaving you alone on the stage with a grin on his face.

Michael:

“This is nice.” He commented, eyes closing in pleasure and made sure to drag out the last vocal in the word. You giggled lightly by his reaction and rubbed your hands through his hair, trying to make sure that every single strand had been covered in the black hair dye. “Your fans are gonna die after this, there’s no doubt.” You checked it one last time and watched him look up and smile, nodding his head in agreement, it was the whole reason why he decided to finally color it dark again after having his natural color for such a long time. “Do you prefer it?” He questioned and sat up when you were done with washing it out, settling for a shampoo afterwards and rubbed it between your hands. “What? The dark hair?” You questioned in concentration, putting a bit more in your hand before running your fingers through his locks again. “Yeah.” “I-, I don’t know.” You suddenly widened your eyes knowing what he was up to, the smirk growing on his face as he watched you head towards one of the shelves to grab a conditioner, you were so confused you hadn’t even washed out his shampoo completely. “I don’t know what I prefer.” You said more stern to get a bit of your attitude back but regardless smiled down at him and cleaned out the shampoo. “You know what I prefer?” He questioned like it wasn’t obvious and swung one leg over the other. You looked down at him with curious eyes but also a bored look, he always asked this and he always made sure to annoy you with it despite telling the truth. “Let me guess. A date?” “Oh my god that is such an honor Y/N yes I will definitely go on a date with you!” Rolling your eyes by his excited exclaim you dramatically changed the water temperature from being medium to ice cold, a teasing smile coming to your face when he reacted immediately and flied up from his chair. “Y/N!” He exclaimed with wide eyes and you laughed quietly and shook your head in agreement. “You’ve got shampoo drippling down your cheek.” You giggled, watching him take a seat back and closed his eyes when you turned on the water and found back the right temperature. “As an apology I’ve decided you will go out with me tonight. No complains and no buts just the two of us at some kind of cozy diner.” You opened your mouth once again to say something but just by the glance he was giving you there was no way in hell you could say no. He was sweet, there was no doubt but you just thought it might be a bit awkward considering you were working with him every single day and what if something would go wrong. But then again, you had to take chances sometimes and a smile came to your face just like his. “Pick me up at 8.”

Ashton:

“You’re early.” You commented and looked into the reflection in the mirror, seeing Ashton lean his body against the doorframe to the dressing room and walked inside. “As in really early.” “I think it’s the jetlag kicking. The others aren’t awake yet and I wanted to kill time so I thought why not start out already. It means you will have less stress when the others show up and need to have their makeup done within five minutes.” You smiled softly by his words and sorted a few things out from your makeup bag, watching him in the corner of your eye as he took a seat down and ran a hand through his curly locks. “Well I’m flattered, I must admit.” You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair teasingly and found your primer. Silence fell upon the dressing room in a peaceful manner, the only thing playing out loud was the radio in the background. You didn’t say much but gently put the cream between your fingers and started to smear it out on his skin. “Did you shave?” The question wasn’t supposed to come out as a surprise, yet it did and he smiled softly by your question. “I remember how you said you preferred that because it would be easier to cover up spots and such without the stubble. So I did.” It was almost as if a blush came to his lips because when he thought about it he sounded pretty ridiculous. But it still made you smile and look down at your hands, not really knowing what to say because it was actually really sweet of him, also considering that it was a decision of his. “Hey.” He commented quietly and titled your chin up. “I know that you heard the boys and I talk about you.” You froze completely by his words and stopped from pumping out foundation on the back of your hand, your mouth opening but no words came out. “And yes what I said was true. I wasn’t just fooling around stating lies.” You were so surprised that you only let out a small giggle, shaking your head by everything that came to your mind and looked down at him. “Ashton I appreciate that you like me but we can’t be together.” It was as if he had expected the statement from you because he only leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes when you started to smear the product on his skin. “It’s just-,” You sighed, “It’s just not right.” He flicked one eye open to look at you, the corner of his mouth turning upwards again and he hummed lightly. “Yes it’s right Y/N.” He smiled and opened both eyes to look up at you. “It’s just not right, right now.” Looking down at him by his words you could feel how you were slowly losing your breath but it was replaced with butterflies as he smiled up at you with a soft wink.