or am i the only one who thinks it makes sense

breakdawn-avenue  asked:

I have no idea why but this drawing of Aoi and Blue Angel gives me so many feelings. especially Aoi. am I the only one that thinks that this picture represents her personality?

(In reference to this semi-official art.)

Yeah, I see what you mean. This art has to be hinting at something; it wouldn’t make sense in hindsight if Aoi ends up being totally different.

So in this art we have Aoi turning away her head, looking like she’s trying to hide, while Blue Angel looms behind her. Whether she’s hiding who she is irl or not (I forget if this is something that’s been confirmed or denied), it’s clear that there’s something about Blue Angel that she isn’t entirely comfortable with.

I’m not trying to say that Blue Angel is going to take on a life of her own or anything. But I think one of Aoi’s main conflicts is going to be her feeling suffocated by the bombastic, fun-loving, magical-girl-esque Blue Angel. 

Because we don’t know much about Aoi yet, but she looks very plain and stoic compared to the Blue Angel, who we see smiling all the time. You could take that as Aoi feeling freer, and thus happier, as Blue Angel. But given this recent artwork, Blue Angel is probably going to be more of a mask than anything—one that Aoi, irl Aoi, is going to feel inadequate compared to. 

How to Snag Potter

By Draco Malfoy


1. Midnight Rendezvous: Invite him to a duel and then bond over shared rule-breaking. Didn’t work because Weasley insisted on coming along. Reported them to Filch instead. 

2. Midnight Rendezvous, second attempt: Inspire gratitude by helping him deal with illegal dragon. Possible small talk about my name? Caught by McGonagall

3. Show off amazing Quidditch skills and really cool new broom. Nope. Granger said I bought my way onto the team (NOT TRUE) and I’m pretty sure Potter believed it. 

4. Send carefully composed and endearing Valentine (the only good thing Lockhart has ever done). I don’t think he liked it very much, despite the brilliant lyrics I composed. Ended up shifting blame onto the Girl Weasel. Fairly certain he doesn’t suspect.

5. Become gravely injured in order to appeal to his Savior Complex and inspire feelings of protectiveness. DO NOT ATTEMPT AGAIN. Was nearly murdered when I insulted that giant filthy chicken, and yet Potter decided that IT was the victim?! Unacceptable. I will not rest until that beast is put down.

6. A fun prank! He seems to enjoy stuff like this when the Weasley Twins do it, so I’m sure he will laugh. Learn to sew. It turns out that Potter has no sense of humor as well as very poor vision, because he nearly killed me with that damn Patronus Charm. Although I must admit, it is kind of hot that he can already do a Patronus.

7. Support him with Triwizard Tournament badges! Okay, this one was probably my fault. Pansy saw me experimenting with them and I changed the messages at the last minute. Why can’t he just realize that I don’t mean it?

8. Report Potter’s tragic story to the Prophet to increase sympathy and support. Exaggerate if it will get him more attention. I realize now that Potter does not like attention. Also Skeeter made out like Potter is in some sort of love triangle involving Granger, which is not even remotely acceptable. This was a mistake.

9. Show respect for his friends by composing an encouraging song in Weasley’s honor. Apparently making the title sound complimentary isn’t enough to negate other more insulting lyrics. Honestly this was doomed from the start because there is literally nothing good about the Weasel except his best friend.

10. Impress him with your status and power by leading the Inquisitorial Squad. Umbridge is an absolute menace and I am an idiot.

11. Make him jealous: Flirt excessively with Pansy. I don’t think he even noticed.

12. Show him your sensitive side by crying in the girls’ loo. Fuck.

Sorry I haven’t written in a while. 

13. Realize you’ve been a complete arse for your entire life. Regret everything. Do your best to become someone who does the right thing. Don’t identify Potter when asked. Stop cronies from killing him. Apologize sincerely after he gets you off at your trial. Invite him for dinner. 

14. Invite him for drinks. 

15. Buy him a birthday present. 

16. Kiss him. 

17. Go back to his flat. 

18. Refuse to leave his bed. This only works for so long.

19. Attempt to make him breakfast.

20. Come out to the Prophet together.

21. Date for three years.

22. Say “yes.”

I am really tired yall.

Lemme just preface this with saying that I am a writer. I have been writing for most of my life. I have taken actual classes about writing and about what fiction can offer you, me, and people as a whole. I have won an award for something that I wrote. I know and love fiction, be it in written form, graphic novels, or film. It is all so good and complex and it’s something I am passionate about. That said, let’s get into this.

A good majority of the discourse that goes on in most of the fandoms I’m in stem from the idea that violence and forbidden sexual acts in fiction will encourage those actions in reality. It is important to know, firstly, that the only time this happens is when a person is immature enough or not mentally healthy enough to distinguish reality from fiction. Growing up, my parents would often stop horror movies (back when I first started watching them) to ask me questions. To be fair, they were pretty shitty people, but in this one aspect, they were so good about making sure I knew this difference. “You know this is just a movie, right? None of the stuff on the tv is real.” They’d assure before continuing the film.

It’s not real.

Now, half of the stuff I read or watched back then was nowhere near pushing boundaries or making me think critically about society or whatever. However, I knew that what I watched wasn’t real. It was images on a screen. If I don’t like what I’m seeing, I can walk away. It doesn’t have to affect me, personally,  unless I let it.

Now, lets circle back. School. College. I took a writing class that used this book:

Granted, it was a screenwriting class and most of the chapters were about various script formats, but the beginning chapters focused on why we write and why we make the stories we do.

It had a section in it describing how human needs and desires are met through fiction. It detailed those needs in a list. This list:

Please draw your attention to the ones on the list that say that fictions helps people to:

Be purged of unpleasant emotions

To have vicarious but controlled emotional experiences

To confront, in a controlled situation, the horrible and terrible

To explore taboo subjects without guilt

Just because you personal don’t need various forms of ‘taboo’ media, doesn’t mean that others don’t. Media, in all of its forms, is a way for people to explore things safely. It’s an outlet that doesn’t harm anyone and it offers the creator and viewer/reader a safe way of exploring the complexities of situations (or in some cases relationships) that these people do not want to be involved in irl. Because we can distinguish reality from fiction. Because none of us are going out killing people or getting into abusive relationships or fucking our sibling.

While being critical of the media we consume is important and it is vital to dissect the whys of the media being created, there is a line between creating open discussion about these taboos, about the society and personal experiences that makes one need these outlets, and verbally abusing and harassing strangers.

If you want to create a dialogue about media or a ship you don’t agree with, fine. Talk about it. Dissect it. Really dig deep into the human condition and the psychology behind these outlets, but don’t shame people for them to the point of telling them to kill themselves or telling them they are human garbage or what the fuck ever.

Fiction isn’t always meant to be picturesque. It’s not always going to be SFW. If that isn’t your cup of tea, then great. Stop going into the tags of things that make you feel unhealthy. You do you. Keep yourself safe. Stop continuously exposing yourself to content that you can’t swallow. To keep getting involved, to keep harassing people, to keep abusing strangers shows that you don’t give a damn about the content. You need an excuse to bully someone else and indulge in holier-than-thou circle jerks with other people who also have no sense of what fiction is for.

honestly for all 13 years on krypton, kara did not have powers. For clark, his powers are what makes him kryptonian and as we see with myriad, clark thinks of himself as human but with abilities–and when he solar flares he thinks “i’m human for a day.” If he lost his powers permanently, he would think I am now human.

For Kara, her sense of Kryptonian identity does not hinge on the fact that she has special abilities, because for the first half of her life she did not. And would explain why she never feels normal–not only is she on a new planet, an entirely new culture and language and history and religion that she is expected to assimilate to, and thus is not normal for any human–her abilities would make her an anomaly among Kryptonians as well.

Kara is always Kryptonian–this is not about  what she can do but who she is, her language and culture and history and beliefs, the way she looks at a problem–like that idea that no one was their own man on Krypton, how she doesn’t want to be the same kind of superhero as her cousin but wants to be an el mayarah superhero–a kryptonian superhero, not the lone solitary human savior that clark likes portray himself as (and the Christian savior that a lot of writers like to portray Clark as but @ them they are frickin space jewish go do research stop doing the whole Christian savior thing bc n o p e but i digress)

When Kara loses her powers she is not “human for a day” but powerless, still Kryptonian, the only one in her life not to be taken over by Myriad’s control without outside intervention. And the fact that so many people forget thisthe writers of both season 2 AND fic–and it’s too many

Clark’s secret is that he is Superman, that he is powers–Kara’s secret is not that she has powers, but that she is not human–and considering that James and Winn almost always forget this, forget that she is a survivor of her entire world dying and forget that she has so much anger and grief inside of her, that if she forgets herself just a little she could accidentally break their bones, that she isn’t just “Sunny Danvers,” a constant smile affixed to her face?

(except alex-alex, who saw that transformation, that struggle, that act that kara constantly puts out there, for every nightmare, for years of grief–because when Alex was looking at Kara, after everyone else found out about all of the pain lingering underneath the sunny surface, looking at her after red kryptonite and sporting a broken arm and looking at kara sobbing on the table back at the DEO once it was all over–Alex looked at Kara with sadness and love and understanding but she did not look at her with surprise. She’s known for years that this has existed, the struggle Kara has gone through not to succumb to this, to keep her head above the water and become someone she can look at in the mirror. She knows that this is not who Kara chooses to be but that she could be? Yeah, everyone else (except J’onn, the only other one who can relate) was surprised. Alex wasn’t)

It means that Kara is just as successful as Clark is at hiding.

This is the secret that Kara would share, with Maggie or Cat or Lena–because sure it’s obvious to anyone who has spent a good amount of time with both Kara and Supergirl that they’re the same–same scar between the eyes, same exact gold earrings, same hair color, same height, same bright blue eyes.

Kara’s secret is her grief.

The possibility of Otayuri becoming canon

So in this post-Welcome to the Madness daze and with the information that has been released today, I would like to do some speculation about the character dynamic between Yurio and Otabek and the possible implications for this ship to become canon. I have already written a bit about this in a comment to another post here, but I would like to elaborate.

Again, this is just me throwing around ideas, with a good dose of wishful thinking.

-          Otabek enters the story quite late as a character. He is there from the beginning but we only get to see him interact with the others from episode 10 onwards. The focal point becomes what his relation is to Yuri. He whisks him away on his motorcycle, takes him to one of the most beautiful vistas in the city and then casually drops how he has admired him for the past five years. Then he offers Yuri his friendship, which has apparently never occurred in Yuri’s life before, they go for a coffee and Mari is stunned to see Yuri normally interact with another human being for a change. It’s up to you to ignore any fond gazes during this scene. What’s worth mentioning is that Yuri seems kind of perplexed by this whole thing. The “eyes of a soldier” line gets to him, because it is probably the first time someone sees him for who he wants to be.

Keep reading

“Not only are there no happy endings…There aren’t even any endings.”

Every time I read American Gods by Neil Gaiman, I find more things to adore about this novel. I read it this time while traveling across the United States, and I have to say, something about reading this book in transit just makes sense. It makes even more sense reading it while soaring over America itself, gazing down on fields and hills, a New Jersey import who lives in Chicago, went to LA a week or so ago, and just left Florida. There is something so intensely American about this novel, and it wows me every time. From the smaller mythic chapters telling folk tales and stories of the people who brought their gods to America, to the gods themselves and their characters, this novel always gets me. This was my third time reading this novel, and I’m going to dig deep to highlight new things that I had forgotten, so solid warning: Spoilers ahead.

I will never get over the way that Neil Gaiman melds together the idea of the gods and the land, and gives them both their own power and will. Something that wows me that I often forget about the standalone is now astoundingly diverse it is without being appropriative, and how Gaiman incorporates so many cultures, a diverse range of characters, as well as a huge amount of humor without it becoming problematic. I think this novel could be a guidebook for authors who want to know how to write diverse stories and mythos respectfully. I forgot about so many fantastic characters that Gaiman pours himself into, from Samantha Black Crow to side characters that brim with energy and character themselves, like Whiskey Jack’s son or Bilquis. I also never noticed before the two mentions of Mr. Nancy’s son that point to Anansi Boys. Not to mention the wealth of research and knowledge that goes into the bottomless well of background characters and visions leading up to the battle. 

One thing I gained a new appreciation for in this novel was the character of Shadow. He is big, and not dumb, and I remembered all that, but what I forgot is how nice he is. Shadow’s such a cinnamon roll of a character, and I forget that. He stands up for a waitress and believes in the good of people. At the Lakeside library book sale, he tries to find the book that’s least likely to be purchased, so that he can help the library out by buying it. He performs coin tricks for children. He is obligated to hold Odin’s vigil, but he never questions whether he should also hold Mad Sweeney’s. As Laura speaks with the cutting, too-open words of the already-dead, Shadow still refuses to tell her about her appearance or to not hold her hand, because he doesn’t want to hurt her still. When Shadow picks up bodies with the coroners, he carries them always in his arms. 

The scene between Shadow and Odin before his death is one of my absolute favorites (other favorite scenes include Samantha Black Crow’s protest kiss, the scene in which Shadow thinks snow into being, and Shadow’s long death scene). Odin recites to Shadow what he knows—the charms, in a long list. And it ends with that long scene where Shadow wonders what would have happened if he touched Odin’s hand, and wishes he had. And Odin’s twisting grift of the fiddle is so complicated and well done that even on the third re-read, I find myself forgetting about it until the moment Odin dies, and doubting myself on it until the moment Shadow says it out loud.

@neil-gaiman’s American Gods just gets better every time I read it, and I am cautiously thrilled and excited for the show coming out later this spring. 

“It doesn’t matter that you didn’t believe in us. We believed in you.”

{PART 27} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; As death enters the room to claim a soul; so does life. Who shall live and who shall die - as you begin to wonder…is this really the end?

“And as he looked upon her face amidst the madness, he saw everything he held close depart his world; while she slipped into the next”

|| Warning: This chapter contains mentions of blood and some scenes that readers may find upsetting ||

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

{Part 1} // {Part 26} {Part 27} {Part 28}

Keep reading

Imagine - Zach gets jealous

Originally posted by sensualkisses

@ambrosebabyy Request: “Can I get a Zach Dempsey imagine ? Were he sees Bryce all over me and gets really protective?”

@thrtreasons Request: “jealous!zach…. i just… oh my god sorry i am sooooo zach trash”

@hanna-ranay Request: “Honestly an imagine about Zach would truly be appreciated, if you can. If not, it’s okay. Thank you!”

Jessica Davis was having a party at her house tonight, and of course you, being her best friend, had to go. You, Jessica, Justin, Zach, Bryce, Monty, and several other students from Liberty high were sitting in the living room playing suck and blow. You were sandwiched between Bryce Walker and Zach Dempsey.

You would never admit it to anyone, but you had a huge crush on Zach. And you’re pretty sure Jessica knew, she is your best friend after all, how could she not. But you were too shy to act upon your feelings towards him and you believed that he would never want to be with someone like you. Even though you hung out with Jessica and the more popular kids at Liberty high, you were still known as quite the nerd. And someone like Zach Dempsey don’t go for nerdy girls like you, they go for skinny cheerleaders who are drop dead gorgeous. 

Anyways, the game of suck and blow had already started, and you were pretty nervous to say at the least. Because you had to put your mouth against Zach’s with only a thin card in between the two of your lips. It was getting closer and closer to your turn until some girl pressed her mouth against Bryce’s passing the card on to him. He turned towards you, card on his lips. Bryce scooted closer to you quickly, sandwiching you more between him and Zach, until the point where you were chest to chest with Bryce and your back was pressed firmly against Zach’s muscular chest. Bryce then proceeded to place his card covered lips against yours, and quickly, in the process of passing the card onto you, snuck his hand around you to grab a hold of your backside and give it a good squeeze. His actions shocked you and you jumped, emitting a little squeal which was muffled by the card between yours and Bryce’s lips. Still in shock from what is happening right now, you faintly hear a deep growl from behind you…

Keep reading

on draco malfoy's patronus being a thestral

I AM HERE TO ANSWER YOUR CALLS thestral may seem like a badass / very strange choice of a patronus for draco but I am here to explain WHY I think it should be draco’s patronus!!! I’d love to hear your thoughts / have people elaborate on my thoughts so feel free to!

First off, I feel like a lot of people brush off the idea of him having a thestral patronus because heck, why should draco malfoy of all people have a mythical creature? But that’s one of the reasons why i love it. We all know that draco would absolutely LOVE having a mythical patronus ( you know, being special ) but I stand strongly behind the idea that the ONE mythical patronus he would have never wanted is a thestral.

A patronus is suppose to be a representation of yourself, and why the hell would he like it if he had patronus that reminds him of the war? of him being a death eater? of what he had to do and what it ended up causing? it’s an irony i love to indulge in & think about. Rather than being stuck up and proud i personally think draco would have wished for anything else. I’m pretty sure draco would be the type who would pull a disgusted face if he saw a thestral rather than be happy by it. He wouldn’t want to show this patronus off. Like, can you imagine? Pansy pestering him to show her, “wow i bet it’s a fucking ferret, isn’t it”, and when she actually sees it everything goes to shit because of fucking course, draco malfoy out of all people would have a thestral patronus, that even the embodiement of his happiest memory and his soul would link back to the horrors of the war and what he’s done.

Thestrals as you all know are considered to be dangerous, omens of misfortune and only visible to those who have seen death. They are quite literally representative of death. It spells out /evil/ and /bad/ no matter how you look at how the world portrays them.

This is where I’m grateful for Luna Lovegood. We’ve all seen a different side to the thestrals in the films, with Luna stating that “they’re quite gentle, really, but people tend to avoid them because they’re a bit…different.” Thestrals externally look ghostly, grim with them being dark & skeletal all the way through ( this could be another reason why draco = thestral but i’m not making that connection LOL ) if we place in on a canon timeline, the only place where draco would /really/ be trying to conjure a patronus would be after the war, and keeping that in mind it makes a lot of sense. It’s not a big stretch to say that post-war draco became an image of the war, with him being a death eater. His past haunts him, with people only seeing into his image of a death eater without acknowledging him trying his best to redeem himself.

The whole idea of a thestral being a creature that is representive of death & misfortune but also having the ability to be a person’s patronus, basically the opposite of what a thestral is known for, is SUCH a good way of describing draco. The image of post-war draco malfoy is like the image of a thestral in a flowerfield, they stand out too much for their setting of peace despite them not doing anything but being themselves. People fear/hate thestrals and they can’t help it, just as people can’t help but slap “death eater” on draco.

BUT! despite their external appearances thestrals are gentle, extremely loyal…and cutting away at the war and everything else we know draco is loyal. He is so loyal to his family, and even if its /bad/ he wouldn’t hesitate to defend them even if it’s by taunting / mocking the person. He loves them, and this goes both ways - maybe it’s him being prideful of his blood heritage because of how he was raised, or maybe he truly really loves his family ( which i definitely think he goddamn does ). Thestrals can be representative of both, they are attracted to the smell of blood but will also become aggressive if they view someone as a threat to themselves, their friends or even their owner.

It makes sense that draco’s patronus would be a gentle, misunderstood being who sometimes does the wrong thing out of love, or fear, but for a reason that isn’t purely “ because i wanted to”. I just really like the idea of a thestral both symbolising draco’s deeper, hidden parts that he’s too scared to show to the world while also simultaneously being able to represent his life and what he experiences.

I also do think it’ll be a nice way to make draco get over the horrors of war and let go of his past and just live. Draco coming to terms with him having a thestral patronus would practically be him coming to terms with who he is and the mistakes he’s made.

And just to add onto everything above : draco was owner of the elder wand at a point ( thestral hair core ), and thinking about when he was the owner and what was happening at the time, i think everything works out nicely.

All in all i just think thestral is a really clever choice for draco, and clever just so happens to work perfectly for him.

EDIT: ALL THIS AND I FORGOT TO EVEN MENTION THE FACT THAT THESTRALS ARE CLEVER

Lana Del Rey: Wild At Heart

Courtney Love: Is this the mysterious Lana Del Rey?

Lana Del Rey: Is this the one and only Courtney Love?

Lana Del Rey: So, we could just talk about whatever… Like those burning palm trees that you had in the ‘Malibu’ video. I didn’t think they were real!

Courtney Love: Back when rock’n’roll had a budget, you mean? Oh my God, Lana, setting palm trees on fire was so fun. You thought they were CGI?

Lana Del Rey: Yeah.

Courtney Love: God, you’re so young. I burned down palm trees. In my day, darling, you used to have to walk to school in the snow. So, since I toured with you, I got kind of obsessed and went down this Lana rabbit hole and became – not like I’m wearing a flower crown, Lana, don’t get ideas – but I absolutely love it. I love it as much as I love PJ Harvey.

Lana Del Rey: That’s amazing because, maybe it’s slightly well documented, but I love everything you do, everything you have done – I couldn’t believe that you came on the tour with me.

Courtney Love: I read that you spend a lot of time mastering and mixing. Is that true on this new record?

Lana Del Rey: Oh my God, yeah, it’s killing me. It’s because I spend so much time with the engineers working on the reverb. Because I actually don’t love a glossy production. If I want a bit of that retro feel, like that spring reverb or that Elvis slap, sometimes if you send it to an outside mixer they might try and dry things up a bit and push them really hard on top of the mix so it sounds really pop. And Born to Die did have a slickness to it, but, in general, I have an aversion to things that sound glossy all over – you have to pick and choose. And some people say, ‘It’s not radio-ready if it isn’t super-shiny from top to bottom.’ But you know this. Whoever mixed your stuff is a genius. Who did it?

Courtney Love: Chris Lord-Alge and Tom Lord-Alge. Kurt was really big on mastering. He sat in every mastering session like a fiend. I never was big on mastering because it’s such a pain in the butt.

Lana Del Rey: It is a pain in the ass.

Courtney Love: I think my very, very favourite song of yours – you’re not gonna like this because it’s early – is ‘Blue Jeans’. I mean, ‘You’re so fresh to death and sick as ca-cancer’? Who does that?

Lana Del Rey: I have to say, that track has this guy Emile Haynie all over it. I remember ‘Blue Jeans’ was more of a Chris Isaak ballad and then I went in with him and it came out sounding the way it does now. I was like, ‘That’s the power of additional production.’ The song was on the radio in the UK, on Radio 1, and I remember thinking, ‘Fuck, that started off as a classical composition riff that I got from my composer friend, Dan Heath.’ It was, like, six chords that I started singing on.

Courtney Love: You have that lyric (on the song), ‘You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip-hop.’ Did you really grow up on hip hop?

Lana Del Rey: I didn’t find any good music until I was right out of high school, and I think that was just because, coming from the north country, we got country, we got NPR, and we got MTV.

Courtney Love: What I hear in your music is that you’ve created the world, you’ve created a persona, and you’ve created this kind of enigma that I never created but if I could go back I would create.

Lana Del Rey: Are you even being serious right now? I don’t even know if your legacy could get any bigger. You’re one of the only people I know whose legacy precedes them. Just the name ‘Courtney Love’ is… You’re big, honey. You’re Hollywood. (laughs) Touring with Courtney Love was, like, an Elizabeth Taylor diamond (for me).

Courtney Love: You know, I met Elizabeth Taylor. I was with Carrie Fisher at Taylor’s Easter party and she was taking six hours to come downstairs.

Lana Del Rey: I love it.

Courtney Love: I looked at Carrie and I said, ‘This is not worth it,’ and Carrie said, ‘Oh, yes it is.’ So we snuck upstairs and, Lana, when you go past the Warhol of Elizabeth Taylor as you’re sneaking up the stairs and it says ‘001’, you start getting goosebumps. And then you see her room and it’s all lavender, like her eyes. And she’s in the bathroom getting her hair done by this guy named José Eber who wears a cowboy hat and has long hair, and I’m like, ‘What am I doing here? I’m not Hollywood royalty.’ And the first words out of her mouth are, like, ‘Fuck you, Carrie, how ya doin’?’ She was so salty but such a goddess at the same time.

Lana Del Rey: She was so salty. The fact that she married Richard Burton twice – and all the stories you hear about those famous, crazy, public brawls – she was just up for it. Up for the trouble.

Courtney Love: You know what, darling? I started real early. I started stalking Andy Warhol before I could even think about it. And you kind of did the same, from my understanding. That ‘I want to make it’ thing. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Lana Del Rey: No, there’s not. There’s nothing wrong with it when you do the rest of it for the right reasons. If music is really in your blood and you don’t want to do anything else and you don’t really care about the money until later. It’s also about the vibe, not to be cliched. And the people. I think we had that in common. It was about wanting to go to shows, wanting to have your own show – living, breathing, eating, all of it.

Courtney Love: Can I ask you about your time in New Jersey? Was that a soul-searching time?

Lana Del Rey: Oh, I don’t even know if I should have said to anyone that I was living in that trailer in New Jersey but, stupidly, I did this interview from the trailer, in 2008.

Courtney Love: I saw it!

Lana Del Rey: It’s cringy, it’s cringy. (laughs)

Courtney Love: You look so cute, though.

Lana Del Rey: I thought I was rockabilly. I was platinum. I thought I had made it in my own way.

Courtney Love: I understand completely.

Lana Del Rey: The one thing I wish I’d done was go to LA instead of New York. I had been playing around for maybe four years, just open mics, and I got a contract with this indie label called 5 Points Records in 2007. They gave me $10,000 and I found this trailer in New Jersey, across the Hudson - Bergen Light Rail. So, I moved there, I finished school and I made that record (Lana Del Ray A.K.A. Lizzy Grant), which was shelved for two and a half years, and then came out for, like, three months. But I was proud of myself. I felt like I had arrived, in my own way. I had my own thought and it was kind of kitschy and I knew it was going to sort of influence what I was doing next. It was definitely a phase. (laughs)

Courtney Love: But you have records about being a ‘Brooklyn Baby’. You can write about New York adeptly and I cannot. I tried to write a song about a tragic girl in New York, going down Bleecker Street – this girl couldn’t afford Bleecker Street, so the song made no sense, right? (laughs) I did my time there, but it chased me away. I couldn’t do it because I wouldn’t go solo. I had to have a band.

Lana Del Rey: I wanted a band so badly. I feel like I wouldn’t have had some of the stage fright I had when I started playing bigger shows if I had a real group and we were in it together. I really wanted that camaraderie. I actually didn’t even find that until a couple of years ago, I would say. I’ve been with my band for six years and they’re great, but I wished I had people – I fantasized about Laurel Canyon.

Courtney Love: I wanted the camaraderie. The alternative bands in my neighbourhood were the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Jane’s Addiction. I knew Perry (Farrell, Jane’s Addiction frontman) and I went to high school for, like, ten seconds with two Peppers and a guy named Romeo Blue who became Lenny Kravitz. I remember being an extra in a Ramones video and he stopped by when he was dating Lisa Bonet from The Cosby Show and it was a big deal.

Lana Del Rey: See? You didn’t really see that in New York. When I got there, The Strokes had had a moment, but that was kind of it. LA has always been the epicenter of music, I feel.

Courtney Love: LA is easier. People have garages. And then as you go up the coast, in Washington and Oregon people have bigger houses and bigger garages, and people have parents. I didn’t have parents, and you – well, you had parents, but you were on your own.

Lana Del Rey: Yeah. You know that song of yours (Awful) that says, ‘Just shut up, you’re only 16’? I think there are different types of people. There are people who heard, ‘What do you know? You’re just a kid,’ and then there are people who got a lot of support from the line, like, ‘Go for it, go for your dreams.’ (laughs) And I think when you don’t have that, you get kind of stuck at a certain age. Randomly, in the last few years, I feel like I’ve grown up. Maybe I’ve just had time to think about everything, process everything. I’ve gotten to move on and think about how it feels now, singing songs I wrote ten years ago. It does feel different. I was almost reliving those feelings on stage until recently. It’s weird listening back to my stuff. Today, I was watching some of your old videos and this footage of you playing a big festival. The crowd was just girls – just young girls for rows and rows. I was reminded of how vast that influence was on teenagers. And – going back to enigma and fame and legacy – you know, those girls who have grown up and girls who are 16 now, they relate to you in the exact same way as they did right when you started. And that’s the power of your craft. You’re one of my favourite writers.

Courtney Love: You’re one of mine, so, checkmate. (laughs)

Lana Del Rey: What you did was the epitome of cool. And there’s a lot of different music going on, but adolescents still know when something comes authentically from somebody’s heart. It might not be the song that sells the most, but when people hear it, they know it. Are you a John Lennon fan?

Courtney Love: When I hear ‘Working Class Hero’, it’s a song I wish to God I could write. I wouldn’t ever cover it. I mean, Marianne Faithfull covered it beautifully, but I would never cover it because I think Marianne did a great job and that’s all that needs to be said.

Lana Del Rey: I felt that way when I covered ‘Chelsea Hotel (#2)’, the Leonard Cohen song, but when I was doing more acoustic shows, I couldn’t not do it.

Courtney Love: I don’t have your range. I’ve tried to sing along to ‘Brooklyn Baby’ and ‘Dark Paradise’ and this new one, ‘Love’. You go high, baby.

Lana Del Rey: I’ve got some good low ones for you. You know what would be good, is that song, ‘Ride’. I don’t sing it in its right octave during the shows because it’s too low for me. But I’ve been thinking about doing something with you for a little while now. Then after we did the Endless Summer tour, we were thinking we should at least write, or we should just do whatever and maybe you could come down to the studio and just see what came out.

Courtney Love: When we were on tour, our pre-show chats were very productive for me.

Lana Del Rey: Me too. That was a real moment of me counting my blessings. I just wanted to stay in every single moment and remember all of it, because it was so amazing.

Courtney Love: Likewise. It was really fun coming into your room. My favourite part of the tour was in Portland, getting you vinyl that I felt you needed. (laughs)

Lana Del Rey: When you left the room, I was just running my hand over all the vinyl like little gems, like, ‘I can’t believe I have these records that Courtney gave to me, it’s so fucking amazing.’ And we were in Portland, too. It felt surreal.

Courtney Love: Yeah, I don’t like going there much but I went there with you. We have this in common, too: we both ran away to Britain. If I could live anywhere in the world, I’d live in London.

Lana Del Rey: If I could live anywhere in the world other than LA, I’d live in London. In the back of my mind, I always feel like I could maybe end up there.

Courtney Love: I know I’m going to end up there. I know what neighbourhood I’m going to end up in, and I know that I want to be on the Thames. I subscribe to this magazine called Country Life which is just real-estate porn and fox hunting. It’s amazing. OK, so, if you weren’t doing you, what would you do?

Lana Del Rey: Do you have a really clear answer for this, for yourself?

Courtney Love: Yeah, I would work with teenage girls. Girls that are in halfway houses.

Lana Del Rey: That’s got you all over it. I’m selfish. I would do something that would put me by the beach. I would be, like, a bad lifeguard. (laughs) I’d come help you on the weekends, though.

Courtney Love: Do you like being in Malibu better than being in town?

Lana Del Rey: I like the idea of it. People don’t always go out to visit you in Malibu. So there’s a lot of alone-time, which is kind of like, hmm. I’m not in indie-rock enclave Silver Lake but I love all the stuff that’s going on around there. I guess I’d have to say I prefer town, but I’ve got my half-time Malibu fantasy.

Courtney Love: The only bad thing that can happen in Malibu really is getting on Etsy and overspending.

Lana Del Rey: Oh my God, woman… (laughs) Tell me about it. Late-night sleepless Etsy binges.

Courtney Love: Regretsy binges. OK, so, lyrically, you have some tropes and one of them is the colour red. Red dresses, scarlet, red nail polish… I kind of want to steal that.

Lana Del Rey: You need to take over that because I think I’ve got to relinquish the red.

Courtney Love: Well, I overuse the word ‘whore’.

Lana Del Rey: You take ‘red’. I’ll trade for ‘whore’. I’m so lucky.

Courtney Love: I love this new song ‘Love’.

Lana Del Rey: Thank you. I love the new song, too. I’m glad it’s the first thing out. It doesn’t sound that retro, but I was listening to a lot of Shangri-Las and wanted to go back to a bigger, more mid-tempo, single-y sound. The last 16 months, things were kind of crazy in the US, and in London when I was there. I was just feeling like I wanted a song that made me feel a little more positive when I sang it. And there’s an album that’s gonna come out in the spring called Lust for Life. I did something I haven’t ever done, which is not that big of a deal, but I have a couple of collabs on this record. Speaking of John Lennon, I have a song with Sean Lennon. Do you know him?

Courtney Love: I do, I like him.

Lana Del Rey: It’s called ‘Tomorrow Never Came’. I don’t know if you’ve ever felt this way, but when I wrote it I felt like it wasn’t really for me. I kept on thinking about who this song was for or who could do it with me, and then I realized that he would be a good person. I didn’t know if I should ask him because I actually have a line in it where I say, ‘I wish we could go back to your country house and put on the radio and listen to our favourite song by Lennon and Yoko.’ I didn’t want him to think I was asking him because I was namechecking them. Actually, I had listened to his records over the years and I did think it was his vibe, so I played it for him and he liked it. He rewrote his verse and had extensive notes, down to the mix. And that was the last thing I did, decision-wise. I haven’t mixed the record, but the fact that ‘Love’ just came out and Sean kind of finished up the record, it felt very meant-to-be. Because that whole concept of peace and love really is in his veins and in his family. Then, I also have Abel Tesfaye, The Weeknd. He is actually on the title track of the record, ‘Lust for Life’. Maybe that’s kind of weird to have a feature on the title track, but I really love that song and we had said for a while that we were gonna do something; I did stuff on his last two records.

Courtney Love: Do you have a singular producer or several producers?

Lana Del Rey: Rick Nowels. He actually did stuff with Stevie Nicks a while ago. He works really well with women. I did the last few records with him. Even with Ultraviolence which I did with Dan Auerbach, I did the record first with Rick, and then I went to Nashville and reworked the sound with Dan. So, yeah, Rick Nowels is amazing, and these two engineers – with all the records that I’ve worked on with Rick, they did a lot of the production as well. You would love these two guys. They’re just super-innovative. I wanted a bit of a sci-fi flair for some of the stuff and they had some really cool production ideas. But yeah, that’s pretty much it. I mean, Max Martin –

Courtney Love: Wait, you wrote with Max Martin? You went to the compound?

Lana Del Rey: Have you been there?

Courtney Love: No. I’ve always wanted to work with Max Martin.

Lana Del Rey: So basically, ‘Lust for Life’ was the first song I wrote for the record, but it was kind of a Rubik’s Cube. I felt like it was a big song but… it wasn’t right. I don’t usually go back and re-edit things that much because the songs end up sort of being what they are, but this one song I kept going back to. I really liked the title. I liked the verse. John Janick was like, ‘Why don’t we just go over and see what Max Martin thinks?’ So, I flew to Sweden and showed him the song. He said that he felt really strongly that the best part was the verse and that he wanted to hear it more than once, so I should think about making it the chorus. So I went back to Rick Nowels’ place the next day and I was like, ‘Let’s try and make the verse the chorus,’ and we did, and it sounded perfect. That’s when I felt like I really wanted to hear Abel sing the chorus, so he came down and rewrote a little bit of it. But then I was feeling like it was missing a little bit of the Shangri-Las element, so I went back for a fourth time and layered it up with harmonies. Now I’m finally happy with it. (laughs) But we should do something. Like, soon.

Courtney Love: I would like that. That would be awesome.

When Duty and Desire Meet Chapter 4

Art by @edendaphne , words by moi!

Summary: After their accidental kiss on Valentine’s day, both Marinette and Chat Noir have to deal with the emotional fallout of their actions.

Read on AO3
Read on tumblr

~

Valentine’s Day Part 2

“So, let me get this straight,” Alya said, leaning back against Marinette’s desk chair and steepling her fingers. Beside her, on a little table-cushion Marinette had made, Tikki slept soundly, having already heard the story a thousand times over. “You’re in love with Chat Noir.”

“You already knew that,” Marinette groaned from her chaise, hugging a cushion to her chest and leaning back like a Freudian patient. Lord knows she was about three sentences away from a therapy-inducing hissy fit regardless, so it was probably prudent of her to be lying down in such a way. She was preparing for her inevitable breakdown that’s all. It was the smart thing to do.

And she rarely did the smart thing nowadays it seemed, so she really needed this.

“You’ve been in love with Chat as Ladybug for like a bajillion years,” Alya continued, ignoring Marinette as she continued to rehash pointless details. Details which made Marinette want to bludgeon herself to death with her cushion.

It was most likely impossible to do such a thing but she was never one to back down from a challenge. Death by cushion- she’d find a way.

“Yes. We’ve already established that,” she replied through gritted teeth, said cushion slowly creeping up to cover her face.

“But last night you kissed him by accident,” Alya said.

“Uh-huh.”

“As Marinette.”

“That is correct sir,” Marinette wiggled a finger.

“And he gave you a rose and kissed you back.”

“Tru’ dat.”

It was indicative of Marinette’s deteriorating mental state that she’d said “Tru’ dat”. She’d never said “Tru’ dat” in her whole life.

“I see,” Alya nodded a few times. The fact her tone had remained neutral the whole time was doing nothing to help Marinette’s poor nerves, and so she swung her legs over the side of her chaise, sitting up to get a better view of Alya’s twinkling eyes. A sense of dread settled in Marinette’s stomach. Alya’s eye-twinkles were never a good thing, at least when they were directed towards her.

I see?! Is that all you have to say? Seriously?! I thought you’d be freaking out right now, I mean I’m freaking out but then I ALWAYS freak out. You not freaking out is making me freak out harder! Can you please freak out with me? Join me in the freak out zone already!” Marinette blabbed, waving her arms and promptly dropping the cushion to the ground.

Alya said nothing, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at her and cross her legs. At least she’d stopped steepling her fingers, Marinette thought gruffly.

After a short pause, Alya finally spoke, but her voice wobbled and strained unnaturally, her lips thinned in a way that was entirely too suspicious. “Firstly, stop saying freak out, secondly I’m not freaking out because this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She barely made it to the end of her sentence before she doubled over and descended into giggles.

It was in that moment that Marinette realised Alya’s peculiar behaviour had been due to her hiding her amusement, and she felt fully justified in yanking the cushion from its position on the floor and hurling it towards her supposed ‘best friend forever.’

Unfortunately, Alya dodged the fluffy projectile with ease.

“Come on, this is serious! I’m in hot water here!” Marinette cried, crossing her arms across her chest.

“When are you not though? Let’s be real,” the redhead shot back with a wry grin, twirling in the chair and kicking backwards to check her hair in the small vanity mirror on Marinette’s desk. The sight made Marinette relax a little. Alya only checked her hair with such scrutiny when she was seriously contemplating something.

Suddenly missing the comforting embrace of the cushion, Marinette flopped down once more. As her back hit the large pillows adorning her chaise, she let out a long sigh and all the fear, the panic, the fight, left her in one fell swoop. Only tiredness and uncertainty remained.

“How am I going to face him?” she whispered. Her head tilted towards her small, round window, to the afternoon sun beaming down in a total antithesis to her feelings. She wondered where Chat Noir was at that moment.

Did she cross his mind?

Over the years Marinette had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But it was different now. Now she wondered if Chat thought of her, of Marinette, not of Ladybug. Did he dwell on it- how they’d kissed? She had. She’d thought about it all night, until exhaustion had finally overcome her and she’d woken up late, cold, wanting something she could barely comprehend.

For years, she’d thought about what it would mean to kiss Chat Noir, Dark Cupid incident aside considering she couldn’t even remember it.

A small, involuntary whimper left her when she recalled the night before. The kiss had been an accident… at first. But the second she felt Chat’s lips press into hers was burned into her memory, playing over and over again. The moment he returned her kiss had ignited something dormant inside her and she felt raw, emotions exposed and unlocked, with nowhere to hide.

She considered her question again. How on earth could she face him as Ladybug, knowing what she did, knowing him the way he didn’t know he knew her (and god wasn’t that sentence confusing in and of itself)?

For God’s sake Marinette, it was a peck of a kiss at the most, pull yourself together!

“You’ll figure it out.”

Alya’s voice sounded lightyears away, so stuck was Marinette in her own musings. She jumped, a little sheepishly, and realised she hadn’t noticed Alya coming over to her until the spinning desk chair was pressed right by the chaise. The next moment, Alya’s hands were in her hair. Having thoroughly fixed her own short curls, she now concentrated on the silky strands of Marinette’s loose locks, braiding little plaits as if they were children at a sleepover.

Marinette let her. Two perfectly groomed heads were better than one.

“You think you can talk to him about it? As you I mean, not Ladybug,” Alya suggested, quickly clarifying her meaning whilst tugging the red ribbons loose from Marinette’s dark hair.

Snorting in response, Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Talk? To Chat? The very idea…

“Yeah sure, let me just tweet at him Ayla. Hashtag balcony make-outs,” she giggled, feeling a little better as her hair fell around her shoulders.

Foregoing the braids, Alya reached up and began tying something new into Marinette’s hair, tutting in disapproval. “Slide into the DM’s at least girl, I raised you better than that.”

They shared a laugh, settling into a comfortable silence as Alya worked on both sides of her hair. Marinette sat back and mulled over her options. Truth be told she didn’t have many. She couldn’t talk to Chat, after all it wasn’t likely he’d be back and she had no idea who he was in real life. The notion that she could talk to him as Ladybug, thus revealing herself, made her rapidly descend into a panic so sharp that she quickly pushed that thought to the side.

Really there was nothing else to do but call it what it was. A blip. A crazy alignment of stars which had given her a taste of everything she’d wanted for the past four years, a reminder that it was probably all she was going to get.

She tried not to let the disappointment settle in her bones, yet it was fruitless. Her chest ached as though a hole had been carved there.

Suffice to say it was a familiar ache where Chat was concerned, but it was bigger now.

“There. Done,” Alya pulled back, pleased with her work, and Marinette stood. Stepping over to the vanity mirror, she leaned down to check her reflection. “Matching colours for you and the bae,” she teased, eyebrows wiggling from underneath her rounded glasses.

Marinette threw the cushion at her again, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it smacked her right in the face.

At the very least, she had the Gaming Club that night, that would provide a very welcome distraction.

***

Adrien was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Which was ironic, considering he’d joined the Gaming Club to avoid that exact thing from happening.

“I can’t do this, I’m going to cancel,” he whimpered, hiding out in the bathroom a floor above their usual meeting place like the coward he was.

“So cancel,” Plagg shrugged, busy amusing himself with unfurling a roll of toilet paper- as per his usual hobby.

“I can’t cancel!” Adrien replied, horror struck as he gazed at himself in the mirror. His fingers gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Are you insane?!”

“So don’t cancel,” Plagg’s disinterested monotone was really starting to grate on him. “Honestly kiddo what do you want me to say and will it get me food faster?”

The resounding groan from Adrien’s throat was so despairing in nature that he was afraid he’s start rumours of a ghost haunting the building. He leaned on his elbows, burying his face into his hands.

Stupid. He’d been so, so, stupid. And reckless! Totally reckless. What had he been thinking?!

It was worth it though, a small, unchecked part of him thought. Adrien squashed it flat in an instant. After all there was no time to consider the fluttering in his chest, the pleasant swoop of his stomach. Now was the time to face the consequences of his actions. His incredibly foolish, totally moronic actions.

Because, although a part of him ignited, burned in the best possible way, at the memory of Marinette’s lips against his own, another part felt thoroughly ashamed. It felt like he was tricking her in some way. Granted that had never been his intention. His plan had been simple. Leave the rose on her balcony for her to discover. She’d never know it was him and be happy at the gift from a secret admirer. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out the way he planned, though he should have anticipated that.

When had things ever gone the way he planned?

He needed to apologise to her, as Chat, and he was going to do so that night in fact. But before that Adrien needed to pretend, he needed to lie, to Marinette. To the girl he loved. He needed to act like he hadn’t heard her soft sigh, felt the warmth of her skin and the taste of her cherry-blossom lips. He had to fake it, act like it had never happened.

He had to pretend he didn’t desperately want it to happen again.

The idea of being so fake made him ill, and so he placed his hands under the cold water tap to splash his face, allowing the iciness of the water to penetrate his senses and offer him some much-needed clarity.

It didn’t really work but it was the best he could do.

When he entered the Gaming Club, Plagg tucked securely inside his jacket pocket, he was relieved to see Marinette talking to other people. He could barely look at her, the meagre glimpse he’d gotten from across the room had sent his heart cartwheeling down the corridor and somewhere into the next arrondissement.

Not wanting to look suspicious, and fully admitting that he was stalling for time, Adrien wandered over to the desk where Nino was hooking up an old Nintendo console for one of their signature Mario Kart nights.

Mario Kart…Marinette…partners… sitting close together… oh no.

“Hey bro!” Nino chirped, offering Adrien a fist to bump, clearly not noticing how the blood had completely drained from his friend’s face. “Everything ok?”

“H-hey! Everything’s good!” The first lie of the evening. How could Adrien have forgotten it was a Mario Kart night? More importantly, how was he going to survive the evening now? Sitting next to Marinette, shoulders pressed together, watching her tongue poke out in concentration like it normally did? How could he concentrate on anything knowing how close he’d been to said tongue the night before?

Grow up Adrien! You aren’t some horny teenager and Marinette isn’t a prize to be objectified. Show her some respect already!

If Nino had thought Adrien’s reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. Together they settled into an easy conversation, Adrien helping his friend set up the old console. Focusing on such a menial task did wonders for his nerves. He was almost starting to feel normal. Almost.

Of course, just as he was beginning to relax, Marinette had to tap him lightly on the shoulder.

She might as well have given him a 1.21 gigawatt electric shock, given his reaction to both was about the same. If he’d been Chat Noir at the time, his superpowers might have actually propelled him through the ceiling.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head, taken aback by his startled shriek. “Are you ok?”

Subconsciously, Adrien’s hand reached up and he clutched his chest, fingers burying into his jumper as if it would cure the frantic beating of his wild heart.

Because she was there, right in front of him. Marinette. The girl he’d kissed last night.

His eyes flicked down to her lips before he could help himself.

“Adrien?”

The second time her voice permeated through his cloudy mind, something snapped inside of him. It was as if he were a character in a film, once played in slow motion, now fast-forwarding.

“Hey!” he cried, louder than he intended, and the people around him turned to stare. He looked at her eyes instead, with far more intensity than normal, mainly because he was so intent on not looking at her lips any more. “Marinette! It’s my friend- Marinette! My good friend, I’m good! How are you? You good- good? Yeah, I’m good, friend. How are you? Did you have a good Valentine’s day?”

WHAT?! Adrien’s brain-filter kicked in far too late, but began screaming at him nonetheless. Why would you ask her that? WHY?! You know how it went! YOU WERE THERE!

Marinette blinked, and it proved just how far gone he was that he found her blinking adorable.

Her blinking.

“Umm,” she blushed, unsure of what to say and, honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. He sounded insane even to his own ears, and he’d just asked her something quite private. Actually, he was surprised she wasn’t berating him for it. Then again, she thought he didn’t know about her encounter with Chat Noir.  His words may have seemed innocent to her ears.

What a mess Adrien had gotten himself into, and it only seemed to grow worse with every bit of word-vomit he expelled.

(Was it bad that he felt a tiny bit of pride at her blushing? Probably. But he was going to hell anyway so he might as well enjoy the slow descent at least a little bit.)

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Marinette glanced baffled at Nino, whom Adrien could see shrugging from his peripheral vision.

But he couldn’t care less.

Because he’d just noticed her hair. Or, more specifically, how she was wearing it.

In place of the red ribbons usually tied into her loose black locks, were two green ones instead. Vivid green. Chat Noir green.

His brain collapsed in on itself.

“I’m good-good too.”

Marinette was teasing him. She was grinning and she had green ribbons in her hair and Adrien was going to DIE.

“Good! That’s good!”

Great. He’d always wanted to die sounding like a partially strangled mongoose.

Marinette, mercifully, took pity on him and waved a controller in his face, offering him a place in the first race of the evening. He sighed, relaxing a little, but only a little. Gaming was fine. It was a welcome distraction, as long as he didn’t sit too close to her he’d be fine (who was he kidding? Of course he was going to sit close to her). At least, when he was focused on blue shells and Bullet Bills his brain couldn’t fixate on the meaning behind Marinette’s ribbons, if there was any hidden symbolism he was missing.

Suddenly the thought of seeing her that night, of apologising, seemed that much more dangerous- forbidden almost. But he had to do it. He owed it to her as her friend. Even if that’s all he could ever hope to be.

Nino still hadn’t finished setting up, and a few other members began helping him in their eagerness to get started. As a result, Adrien found himself more alone with Marinette than ever.

They sat down on the floor, controllers in hands, side by side. Their shoulders brushed, like they always did.

Adrien swallowed, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead of the woollen monstrosity currently overheating him.

He was fairly sure he was going to lose the game spectacularly.

His fears were proved right when, later that evening, Marinette’s knee brushed against his own and he ended up sending Donkey Kong careening off the end of Rainbow Road.

It was going to be a long night.

***

For the fifteenth time that evening, Marinette called herself an idiot.

Because she was an idiot. An idiot for standing on her balcony, an idiot for hoping lightning would strike twice in the same spot, an idiot for following her heart…

Tightly wrapping her cardigan around her, she gazed out into the mocking skyline. The bitterness of the cold February air was nothing compared to the bitterness she felt building up like sludge in her chest. Bitterness in her fortunes, bitterness in her decisions, bitterness in her own feelings.

Distantly, Marinette thanked the stars that at least it wasn’t as cold as it usually was. She was thankful she had a tiny shred of dignity left at least- that she wasn’t freezing to death in the vain hope that Chat Noir would show up again.

She reached up, fingers brushing against her lips, and remembered.

Furious with herself, Marinette shook her head, as if the rough gesture would expel all the unwanted memories from her mind. Honestly what was she doing acting like a silly sixteen-year-old with a crush? Again?! It was desperate, obsessive, ridiculous-

And totally in character if she was being honest with herself.

She needed a break. A breather. A respite from her own whirlwind emotions regarding the man in the black mask, the man who’d held her heart for longer than she cared to admit to anyone- not even Alya.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Marinette let out one last frustrated sigh before turning on her heels and making her way back to her room. Maybe her room would be less of a reminder, would save her from her torment.

But, as usual, fate had other plans for her.

Because, of course, Chat Noir happened to be standing there as if he’d suddenly popped into existence.

The shock of seeing him sent Marinette stumbling backwards with a cry, tripping over a flowerpot and tumbling to the ground.

“Whoa!” Chat called, rushing forward to catch her just in time. One hand gripped her flailing wrist, the other pressed against the small of her back as he pulled her towards him.

For a moment, both of them froze in place. Chat’s fingers splayed across her back, and she briefly felt the edges of his clawed-gloves scratching gently against the fabric of her cardigan. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine before she could control it.

Chat’s eyes widened and he stepped out of their half-embrace with awkward, jittery movements, casting his face away from hers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry I shouldn’t have startled you. I guess I have a bad habit.”

Bad habit huh? Marinette had one of those too.

The silence which settled on them both was heavy, uncomfortable, and borderline unbearable. It was laden with memories of the night before, swirling around them, echoing in their minds as though they were standing in an empty theatre, watching their mistakes projected on a screen with no means of escape.

Because it was a mistake… wasn’t it? She hadn’t meant to kiss him, he probably regretted kissing her back. That was why he was here- of that she was sure. To think he was here for any other reason was just asking for a broken heart.

But, oh god, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not to her. She couldn’t ever consider it to be such.

Finally, Marinette could take the silence no longer. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a smile onto her face, painted a picture of a girl who had herself together at least a little, and placed a hand on her hip.

“No rose tonight?”

Chat’s cat-ears twitched. He peered over at her with a puzzled frown before he realised she was teasing. Something dark crossed his eyes and Marinette forgot how to breathe. The look was gone before she could concentrate on it fully, and she found that he was smiling back at her.

“Err, n-no. No. That is- I mean- unfortunately not,” he replied with his signature bow. “But I do have something far more important.”

“Oh really?” Marinette squeaked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. She’d wanted her voice to be sensual and teasing, but instead it sounded like she’d inhaled a ton of helium instead. Clearing her throat, she tried again, arching her eyebrow for good measure and all the while thrilled at the fact that he was simply there. Chat Noir was there. He’d come back to her. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“About last night,” Chat continued, shuffling from foot to foot, completely unaware of how Marinette’s body, mind, and heart had seized up all at once. “I feel like I made a terrible impression. I- well- I’m not the type of guy to do… what I did.”

From the depths of despair and panic, Marinette felt the faintest hints of confusion. She latched onto it. Confusion was better than rejection.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well I’m not really a playboy or anything, despite what the media likes to speculate about me. I don’t kiss strangers on balconies. I guess, I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression about me.”

When Marinette hung her head, Chat felt a wave of regret wash over him. He’d practiced what he wanted to say, over and over again but it never seemed enough to fully explain himself- not without revealing to her that he was Adrien Agreste and he’d been lying to her this entire time. He was too afraid of the ramifications of that- so he needed to end this now- before he hurt her.

Damn it, he’d gotten so close though. So close to knowing what they could have- what they could be.

But it was a fantasy. Chat Noir was a large part of him, but it wasn’t all of him. The person he was behind the mask was locked away from Marinette, was a separate entity in her eyes.

Who was he fooling? They couldn’t be together. Not like this.

He had to try harder as Adrien and if she rejected him he would simply pick up the pieces of his broken heart. He would respect her, be her friend, move on, and certainly not use Chat Noir’s hero status as a means to trick her into loving him. She deserved better, deserved the world, even if he wasn’t the one to give it to her.

That’s why he had to leave. Right now. Being here, being this close to her, was crumbling his resolve. Every cute gesture she made was another step closer to his damnation. He had to leave before he said or did something he’d regret, before his principles were lost to the wind.

“It was Valentine’s day. I guess… it’s easy to get swept up in the romance of the day, right?” Marinette said. She was smiling, but the sparkle in her eyes was dulled somehow. Once again Chat’s attention was drawn to the green ribbons in her hair, as she quickly tucked a few strands behind her ears. He couldn’t bring herself to speak as she grew distant, deep in her own thoughts, and her shoulders raised. “But if we’re being honest Chat, I was worried you’d see me in a bad light too. Like- I mean- I’m not the kind of girl who kisses random celebrities and I’m certainly not the type to blab to the press about it either.”

“I didn’t ever think you were,” he uttered, swallowing thickly, and a little bit of sparkle returned to Marinette’s eyes. Her cheeks turned pink again.

Chat felt his claws digging painfully into his palms.

“Well… that’s a relief. I mean I always admired you,” Marinette stammered out the confession before she meant to, quickly covering her blunder with half-truths. “You know you saved me once- from an akuma. You didn’t notice me at the time, and it was years ago, but I never forgot.”

Chat felt as though he’d been physically struck by her words.

He’d saved her? He’d saved Marinette? And he hadn’t noticed her?!

“I wish I’d seen you,” he said before he could help himself. The rest of his desires remained unsaid, as new possibilities, new what ifs, formed in his mind- like an alternate reality.

Chat inwardly cringed. No way in hell was he going to get any sleep that night.

“I wish you’d seen me too,” Marinette admitted.

Chat’s hand was halfway to hers before he yanked it back, his heart beating wildly, his mind screaming at him to leave. The pull was almost tangible, magnetic, drawing him closer to her. It was dangerous, and he needed to leave.

“I hate to be a sundae, but I have to split!” he laughed, high and fake, all the while cringing at what was perhaps the worst pun he’d ever made. And that was saying something.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but laughed once.

Ok, she thought, maybe she was ridiculous, but he was equally so. Maybe that’s why she loved him so much.

She watched him make his way to the edge of the balcony and something stirred inside her, the raw feelings which had sparked when their lips had met woke from their slumber, and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Chat?” her voice matched the soft tremors echoing through her body, and she tried to remember to breathe. She couldn’t let him leave like this, she’d been so close. “How about…one last kiss?”

Chat stilled, statue-like. His lips parted, and Marinette panicked.

“I mean!” she corrected, face turning to flames, “I mean sorry that was dumb- so dumb. It’s just that I- I liked that kiss and I thought- I don’t know what I thought- but I wanted to-”

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of Marinette’s sentence was lost forever.

Chat kissed her, kissed her with a resolve thoroughly destroyed and a heart so indescribably owned; owned by her, possessed by her, consumed by her. His hands were frantic, and Marinette matched him in every way as they pressed into each other. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, tangled in his hair, and pulled him closer.

Like he needed an excuse to get closer to her.

The pair of them moved apart to breathe, great shuddering breaths, and then their lips were together again- as neither of them could stand to be apart for a moment. Chat’s fingers slid from her hands to grip her hips, a primal, dark part of him triumphant as he heard a moan slip from Marinette’s mouth.

They stumbled backwards, towards the wall, and Chat pressed her against it, hands roaming her sides- never going too far- always listening to her reactions. Desire coursed through him, a need to please her, to make her moan again, without pushing too far.

She must have sensed him falter, sensed his caution, as a frustrated hum rose from the back of her throat, almost like a purr of her own. Her hands moved from his hair, gripping the bell around his throat, and she tugged him down towards her, kissing his neck.

Chat was having a hard time not passing out from that alone, but then she rolled her hips, making it so there wasn’t a sliver of streetlight between them, and he was fairly certain he died and was reborn on the spot.

Dangerous was the word whispering in his mind, the word he was ignoring as his hands cupped the sides of Marinette’s face, tilting her head back. She arched into him again, countering his movements like a dance, and he gasped.

It felt too natural, too perfect… almost…familiar.

Dangerous he thought as his tongue flicked against her lips.

Dangerous- he thought as her mouth opened and he was rewarded with another moan.

Stop. Stop before you can’t, he pleaded with himself as Marinette’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, her fingernails scratching against his neck.

He didn’t stop.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, passion moving from an explosive force to one of slow-burning sensuality, settling into a rhythm that was far too natural, but neither of them could bring themselves to mind.

It was a long time before Chat could bring himself to leave her, to stop kissing her. It was addictive, intoxicating, and filled with promise. For months his heart had been starved, yearning and wishing, and now it was real. Their kisses were real, her affections were real.

And so was her voice, ringing out in the coldness of the night, in answer to his question, “May I see you tomorrow night, Princess?”

There was a pause, both of them treading on thin ice, ice which slowly creaked and groaned beneath their feet.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the ice shattered, plunging them both into unknown depths.

(art to follow)

sourcatsmiles  asked:

"You love me, right?" For Ladynoir

It was not the way he expected it to go down. Which, honestly, was rather impressive because in the past two years of their partnership Chat Noir must have plotted out at least 50 different possible scenarios in which he finally heard the coveted words. 

They had been joking around, legs swinging off the edge of of the parapet and laughing, enjoying the warm breeze. 

“Come on, you can’t tell me that your birthday is this week and not let me get you a present,” Chat whined, “what sort of partner would I be.” 

“The last thing I need for my birthday is a dead rat on my doorstep,” Ladybug teased as she once again failed to do a Jacob’s ladder with her Yo-yo. She scowled down at her weapon and Chat had to bite back a laugh. There was something incredibly endearing about the fact that for all the truly amazing things she had done with the magical item, she couldn’t seem to get the hang of a simple trick. 

“Ah, but you know that I won’t be giving you that, because I don’t know where your doorway is,” Chat grinned, “so your argument against my giving you a gift is invalid.” 

She rolled her eyes, but he could see her fighting back a smile. 

“Come on,” he whispered, dropping his chin onto her shoulder, “I’ll get you anything you want.” 

“Anything?” she asked, twisting her head to look at him and causing their noses to brush together. 

“Cross my heart and swear not to die, because I already promised you I wouldn’t after what happened last month.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips twisting into the disapproving pout that had become one of his favorite expressions. Not that he had a lack of those where she was concerned. Still, this particular look of fond annoyance was easily in the top 20. 

“Please?” he cajoled, stretching out the vowels like a hopeful child asking for a new toy. 

She looked away and Chat smiled. If she couldn’t meet his eyes it meant she was caving. 

“If Mayor Bourgeois is allowed to give you a statue, the least I should be allowed to do is get you a birthday present,” he whispered, trying not to fist pump as he saw her bite her lower lip. Victory was almost assured at this point. “Please?” he said again. 

“Anything?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Anything,” he assured her in the same quiet voice while internally he screamed in triumph. In fact he would probably be annoying Plagg later with his obligatory victory dance. 

Ladybug said nothing, continuing to stare out into the night, but Chat had learned patience was the key to these sorts of moods, so he simply waited, his head continuing to lull against her shoulder. 

“Chat?”

“Yes My Lady?”

“You love me right?” 

He felt his breath catch in his throat. He knew she didn’t mean it the way he wanted her to. It was a friendly statement, a joking lead-in to a request that usually meant she was insecure about something. It wasn’t the first time she had said it, but he still couldn’t help but be affected by the words. 

“Of course, to the end of my nine lives and beyond,” he said, his tone light despite the rapid pounding of his heart. 

“And you won’t make fun of me?” she said, with just enough of a tremor in her voice to belie her playful smile. 

“Never. Cat’s honor.” 

She took a deep breath and reached her hand up to pull at the collar of her suit. 

“What are you doing?” Chat squawked his face turning beet red as her fingers slide beneath the fabric and down towards her collar bone. 

She gave him a bemused smirk as she pulled out a carefully folded note, much to Chat’s simultaneous relief and dismay. 

“Never figured you for a prude,” she said tapping him on the nose with the paper. 

“What is so important that you felt the need to carry it around under your suit?” he grumbled, then instantly regretted his outburst when her shoulders hunched slightly. “Is it a picture of me? Admit it you pull it out to stare at it when I am not around.” He gave her his most salacious smirk and she gave him a playful shove, the momentary flash of doubt replaced with amusement. He mentally high fived himself on the nice save. Another thing to brag to Plagg about when they got home. 

“No. It’s a letter.” 

“I assume you are either going to elaborate, or you have decided to pursue a lifelong dream of becoming the world’s greatest calligrapher.” 

“What?”

“Never mind, you never did appreciate my sense of humor.” 

“It’s a letter for my crush.” 

His heart sank. 

“It’s stupid,” she said hurriedly, “it’s not even signed. I don’t know what is wrong with me that I can’t even bring myself to give him an anonymous love letter. I stupidly thought that maybe I would get lucky and could run in to him as Ladybug and maybe then I could…” she trailed off with a miserable laugh that broke his heart far worse than her infatuation with someone else. 

“My Lady-” 

“It’s horrible,” she cried, scooting back just enough so that she could look at him, “seriously, you have no idea how pathetic I have been.” 

“Come on it can’t be that bad.”

“For months I couldn’t even speak a complete sentence in front of him,” she wailed, “much less tell him how I feel!” 

“That’s totally normal.” 

“Oh, it get’s better. Because I wasn’t just content to make a fool of myself. No then I compensated by getting worse! My room is plastered with pictures of him. I have one framed on my nightstand!” 

“You are hardly the first person alive to go overboard about a crush,” Chat said thinking of his own hoard of fangirls that had only increased as he edged closer to adulthood.” 

“I wrote down his schedule on my calendar. In detail! Every time I learned something new, up it would go in big swirly cursive with little hearts and everything.” 

“OK, that’s admittedly a little weirder,” Chat winced, although he was somewhat amused at the image of her dotting little hearts all over the place, “still it could be-” 

“I stole his phone!”

“OK yeah, you’re crazy.”

“I told you. Instead of just confessing to him like a normal person I turned into,” she gestured helplessly at herself, “this.” 

“But at least you admit it,” he said kindly. “and if need be I can get you the name of an excellent therapist.” 

She gave him a weak smile, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a gentle hug. 

“I thought if I could just give him this letter, even if he didn’t know it was from me, then I could… I donnow, not move on exactly but, get better, maybe?” 

She fiddled with the piece of paper in her hand and somehow, seeing her like this- relaxed and vulnerable, and just a little bit insane- made him love her even more. 

Maybe they would never amount to anything. Maybe she would end up with this mystery crush, or the next one. But in that moment Chat knew that he would never regret loving this girl. He would be happy to stay by her side in whatever way she needed him. That would be enough. 

“Do you want me to give it to him for you?” he asked, any regret he might have felt vanishing at the hopeful look that sprang to her eyes. 

“Would you?” 

“Of course Bugaboo. Although, if this turns into some sort of wacky rom-com where he thinks that I am the secret admirer and starts chasing after my dazzling good looks and unparalleled charm, you are not allowed to make it my fault.” 

“Ok,” she laughed, leaning her head back against his shoulder with a sigh that he could swear reverberated in his very soul. 

“So who am I delivering this to anyways?” he asked a little shakily carefully plucking the letter from her and slipping into into the pocket of his suit. “Who is this dashing rogue who has turned you into a literal lovesick schoolgirl?” 

“Adrien Agreste,” she confessed with a blush. “I’m in love with Adrien Agreste.” 

It was definitely not how he had expected things to go down. Never in a million years would he have dreamed up this scenario when he finally heard the coveted words- his name on her tongue, her voice saying that she loved him, HIM, of all people. 

It was not what he expected- but damn if it still wasn’t the greatest moment in his life. 



Look who’s back to her 4 word prompts! On to the next one! (Not taking any new ones just finishing up the ones I have.

My Fake Boyfriend Part 11 (Final Part)

Summary: After receiving a very rude letter of your ex on the mail saying that he is going to get married. You see yourself not knowing what to do, you can just let it go or accept the help of your hot neighbor and pretend he is your boyfriend.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 3571

Warnings: A lot of emotions, a lot of fluffy and a little of smut.

@drinkfantasy thank you so much for being my beta. You are the best.

You are so happy, you can’t believe that today you are finally going to sleep on your own bed. “You know, I really like to see you wearing my clothes.” You smile at Bucky’s words as he hugs you from behind.

“I like to wear them, they smell like you.” You are wearing a pair of leggings and one of his sweaters. It’s so big and comfortable. “You can keep it if you want, it looks really good on you.” You turn around kissing him on the lips. “You are going to regret this, in a couple months you are not going to have any more clothes to wear.” You say playful, taking his hair out of his forehead.

“I don’t mind, I can always steal them back and this way they are gonna smell like you.” He is so sweet, you can’t believe how kind and precious Bucky Barnes can be, especially after everything he has been through.

Keep reading

the bike shorts incident

Zimbits | Fluff & Crack | 3.2k | AO3

Bitty gets a series of texts from Jack just minutes before their shared class is due to start. Bitty is alarmed for several reasons—Jack’s preference for sending single texts, and the fact that Jack is normally in class before Bitty at the top of the list.

Jack 9:56 Are there seats in the back row?

Jack 9:57 Can you move to the back row and save me one

Jack 9:57 Near the door on the east side

Jack 9:57 Please

Jack 9:58 ??

Bitty isn’t sure what’s going on, but he gathers his stuff quickly, dumping it into his bag, and heads to the back row near the specified door, trying to type as he goes.

Bitty 9:59 I’ve moved. Got a seat for you. Everything okay?

Jack 9:59 Is anyone near you?

Bitty looks around.

Bitty 10:00 A few people further down the row, and about five rows in front. Teacher just walked in and is setting up.

Bitty looks around to the door, holding his phone in case it buzzes again with a message from Jack.

The teacher calls the class to attention and there’s still no sign of Jack. It’s not like him to miss class. Bitty wants to go out and find him to see what’s going on, but he can’t now that the teacher has seen him. He gets out his books and pen again, and focuses to the front, keeping his phone visible on the desk just in case.

He keeps an ear out for the door, and just as Professor Miao begins her lecture, he hears it opening. It’s almost like Jack was waiting until he knew she’d started.

Jack sticks his head through the gap and looks around nervously. He meets eyes with Bitty, who raises eyebrows at him, trying to get some clue as to what Jack’s been texting him for. As Jack pushes the door open slowly, and hurries quietly in, practically tiptoeing over to the seat Bitty has saved for him, Bitty thinks he knows what Jack’s been worried about.

Keep reading

Horror

Pairing: Peter x Reader

Requested by @spiderzenslaya

Warning:


Clint has created a chatroom.

Clint has added Peter, Y/N, Steve, Thor, Natasha, Vision, Sam, Wanda.

Clint: Anyone up to watching a horror movie?

Natasha: Your face is a horror movie.

Natasha: And yes, I’d love to see a horror movie.

Clint: Awww I didn’t know you love seeing my face ;)

Peter: I’m in, if Y/N’s in.

Y/N: I’m in if Peter’s.

Peter: oh no

Peter: my message delivered first!

Y/N: dammit!

Y/N: Decide!

Peter: No, you decide!

Y/N: Do you want to watch a horror movie or not?!

Peter: Only if you’re there!

Steve: Oh for crying out loud, I order both of you to watch the damn movie.

Keep reading

Carousel | 04

Character: Min Yoongi x reader (oc)

Genre/words: Angst, Implied/light Smut, Arranged Marriage! AU / 14,844 words

Summary: He is the successor of his family’s business empire, and you are the female heir of yours. After the trouble his older brother had created in the past, he now must face certain requirements needed for the sake of the family’s future and to save his rights of inheritance, and you become his only way out. Everything might seem so simple, just the way they are supposed to. But everything isn’t always what it seems, is it?

Playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Cr.


Keep reading

can I just Rant for a second here

Spiderman: Homecoming is so redeeming for me. 

A lot of people grew up on Captain America, or Iron Man. I was that little period in between that was a bit too late for Cap, and a bit too early for Tony. I grew up on Spiderman. I watched every show I could get my hands on, cartoons, kids shows, movies, I read comics. Spiderman was my superhero, especially when I was a preteen and I needed someone like that, someone who was like me. Spiderman was like me. He is the epitome of a teenager. I mean, you just have to look at his one-liners to see it. Things like that came out of me and my brother’s mouth daily, and then I see a hero doing the same thing. Spiderman was MY hero. 

I’ve already told you I watched the movies. Tobey Macguire’s Spiderman first came out in 2002, I was too young to watch it. So I knew the comics, the cartoons, all of Peter’s origins and villains and backstory, before I watched his films. I’m going to preface this by saying I only watched half of the first one. But it was SO disappointing. 

What makes Spiderman a hero, to me, is not his powers. Anyone could be mutated and decide, “hey, I’m going to deal with this” or “hey, I should get this checked out”. Peter didn’t do that, because he already wanted to be a hero. His powers didn’t make him a hero. He was a hero before. Spiderman is not about his powers. But that’s what 2002 Spiderman did. They took away Peter’s intelligence, made him little more than a comic relief. His intelligence is an integral part of Peter. He made his own webshooters, they aren’t a part of his powers. That, that right there shows you how much of a hero he is. Because yeah, he can climb on walls and use super strength, but when you think of Spiderman, you don’t think of those, you think of his webs. Those are his weapons, and they don’t hurt anyone, and I swear to god if that doesn’t show you how much Peter is a hero, you’re looking at him wrong. And so there’s no better way to show you how much 2002 messed up Spiderman than the fact that the webs are part of his powers, that he had them and didn’t make them. They took away his intelligence, his ingenuity, and that is what Peter IS. They turn him nothing more than ridiculous, and it was so crushing. 

Originally posted by ellijahwood

Peter is brilliant. He’s an amazing scientist, in the cartoons he often has internships as well as being a photographer, and he made his own webshooters. In CACW, Tony fucking Stark is impressed with the webshooters. He’s amazed, Tony Stark is amazed, at what Peter made. Peter works with a box of scraps and creates amazing things. He doesn’t fight with brute force, he strategizes, which is what makes the webs work for him as a weapon. 

On another note, Andrew Garfield’s 2012 film I saw in theaters when it came out. I was just 13, and idolized Spiderman, because he was one of us. I was disappointed that he was not in highschool (and by this I mean, I understand that they claimed Peter and Gwen were in highschool, but I’m sorry, Andrew and Emma don’t pass off as highschoolers. If they were going to completely invalidate the identity like that, they should have just set it in college. I never was able to fully immerse myself in the story and believe that Peter was in highschool, and he had so much freetime that it was even more unbelievable that he was a highschooler), because to me the fact that Peter has to balance his classes, part-time job, and crimefighting just once again shows his absolute dedication and brilliance and is an incredibly important aspect of his character, but it was fine. The 2012 film was much better than the 2002 film, but I still disliked it; it left me unsatisfied. Peter’s character was more true to form, but the movie itself was done badly and, I felt, focused too much on a romance for an origin story that (spoiler alert!!) didn’t even pan out. I understand that the movie was simply a set up for a series (that didn’t even work out well), but it was still incredibly disheartening. Perhaps the worst part was the fact that he WASN’T a highschooler, because I felt like they were invalidating teenagers and an important part of my identity at the time. I think the fact that Peter is a teenager is incredibly influential over his entire character, and the way he fights and speaks.  But I was also incredibly disappointed that they didn’t even stay true to Peter’s origin story!! Who is the Lizard? Where was Harry? 

Originally posted by arkinthecurious

Back to Spiderman: Homecoming. I was so ecstatic when they included Spiderman in CACW. I was even more excited when they released who would be playing him. Finally, Peter is a teenager played by someone who can pass off as an actual teenager. Finally, he is back to his brilliant roots (”I can’t” “Why not?” “I have homework…”). It is so redeeming. Everything that was incredibly important to Peter’s character which has been taken away in the past is back. 

Originally posted by amazingmotionpicture

He’s an awkward teenager, but still incredibly brilliant. He has trouble with communication. Aunt May and school are important to him, just as important as saving people (Not the world. PEOPLE). He’s not afraid to stand up to someone, even if they’re someone he believes in and looks up to (examples: see CACW). He banters during fights but is still badass. He’s fascinated by things he doesn’t understand, willing to learn. He tries too hard. He is a teenager, in every sense of the word. 

I’m most looking forward to Tony’s role in Homecoming. Because Peter is exactly like Tony. He is an innovator, an inventor. He’s brilliant, too brilliant for his own good, and has been alienated for it. He lost his parents young, but has a few good friends. And he believes in people. Like Tony, he doesn’t want to save the world. He just wants to save people. He believes that people are important. That’s why he’s a hero – that’s why Tony’s a hero. Neither one of them could give it up, because they can’t give up on people. They’ll fight for people, just as much as they’ll fight for what they believe in. There are so many parallels between them, and Tony saying “I wanted you to be better” told me that he sees them to. I am so excited to see that relationship. 

I am incredibly hopeful for Spiderman: Homecoming, and I hope it does Peter the justice none of the other movies have. 

Killian Jones, Emma Swan and the nuances of deeply emotional love-making.

A psychologist’s POV on why this particular couple hinting at sex riled up an entire fandom.

So what was it?

We have all been exposed to TV sex and (I assume) most of us have been exposed to a certain degree of personal intimacy with a significant other in our lifetimes. I’ve been witness to some unbelievably explicit TV sex myself, but I can say that not once before in my life, has the notion of an OTP “getting it on” made me daydream anywhere near as hard as Hook and Emma did last night with only the hint of post-climatic morning sex taking place on a kitchen table. I was emotional. (A bit hot n’ bothered too, but mostly emotional).

But why? What is so different about these two??

When we think about how things got started for this particular couple, it’s been a struggle for both, one in which many of us can maybe relate. Maybe you’re the lonely girl who lost faith? The guy who lost everything and is terrified of ever embracing love again? Maybe you’re both. all I can say is, we as humans have ALL felt this way, some maybe on one particular situation and some others could be facing ongoing faith trials in their lives. Regardless, seeing that an orphan and a bucaneer can find home, stability, and happiness is an overwhelming slap in the face. It’s super easy to throw the towel in; staying on the road and fighting, that’s what’s hard!! So to find these two connect that way, it’s almost like finding our own answers on the pages of a book. It’s almost therapeutic (though it would be completely unprofessional of me to say CS is a replacement for therapy, should you need it, lol), and this reaches very deep for some and many.

Now about the sex… why does this particular fandom crave to see them show at least a certain degree of sexual intimacy?

Killian’s question “Have you ever been in love?”, comes into play here. Have you ever been in love? because if you have, you will know very well how sex can change and solidify a bond between two people who are already developing such a strong connection. On a chemical POV, sex is basically a survival tool, designed to make us want it to the point of it being damn near unstoppable and thus guaranteeing reproduction. But there is something more: The bonding. The magic of Oxytocin, where your brain releases such unbelievable amounts of the stuff you find yourself suddenly unable to be without that other person. You find yourself even MORE joined together after sex than you did before, even when you didn’t think it was possible.

There is a huge huge HUUUUGE difference between the gratifying satisfaction that comes from casual sex and the overwhelming sense of completeness, peace and togetherness that derives from lovemaking, both individually and as a couple. Just think about it for a second: Love-MAKING. You are MAKING love. Making it. You are enacting love with all you have: Your body, your soul, your everything. You can only say “I love you” so many times before you feel like those words alone just don’t cut it: You want to become that person, be a part of his or her body, to be as close together as you possibly can, to find a way for your souls to commingle and embrace without the limitations of physicality. Is there physical desire though? Of course there is, we are also biological beings with a libido that needs a release. But when you are in love, there is another fuel behind it, a fuel that is not necessarily derived from just the attraction of “banging a hot guy or girl”. No matter what that person has done or what he/she looks like, you desire that person. You start to overlook the flaws, physical or character-wise, and you look deeply, into that person’s very soul, the soul you want to touch and be a part of… the person you LOVE.

So have you ever been in love? Have you ever made love, or been made love to? If not, you will know it when it happens to you… and if you have, then you will know exactly what I’m talking about.

Killian Jones was the first to fall in love in this situation. He suddenly found himself being rescued from a darkness he never believed could be overcome and there, at the end of a dark, dark tunnel, stood one Emma Swan. He felt intrigued and followed her into the light, only to find himself helplessly drawn to her on a much deeper, spiritual level. His way of proving himself to win the heart of the woman he now unquestionably loved was through loyalty. Unbarred, undeniable loyalty. And for a woman who was used to abandonment, finding a solid rock beside her who would be there for her regardless of the consequences was easily the biggest brownie point in her Captain Hook tally. Now they’re together, finding ways of fighting for that love and to keep it strong, burning hot and always beautiful.

Love-making is the next logical step; these two kids have desire for one another (that they’ve actually had for a long, long time) and while I am sure that they have already done the deed before the glorious little nuance from last night’s show, for us to witness that intimacy, that strength and that bond, is almost a reminder that there is a love strong enough for all of us, and that when we do find it, we have to hold on to it, tooth and nail, because regardless of it being an ever after love or a love affair that lasts less than what you hoped for, true love is solidified through unstoppable, devoted, deeply emotional and romantic sex, whether it’s slow and passionate or fast paced and fiery. It’s just that last bridge to cross to entirely become one with that other soul you love so much.

So there it is, kids. Hook and Emma love each other. And to many of us, this almost flawless, picture perfect version of what love could be (and actually really is with all it’s ups and downs and fights and blowouts and great, great sex) is what we all aspire to achieve at some point with our significant other. And what a fine example they are!!!!

anonymous asked:

"You dont want me" ladynoir

Ladybug sat at the top of the Eiffel Tower, her head in her hands, wondering how she could have possibly screwed things up SO badly. 

She heard the light footfall of her partner landing behind her. She couldn’t say she was surprised, he had never been one to leave her to stew in her own misery. 

“So…” he drawled, coming and sitting beside her, “that was an interesting broadcast today.” 

“It was a disaster,” she moaned, still not looking up at him, “I should just throw myself off this tower and put myself out of my misery.” 

“Oh come on, it’s not as bad as all that,” Chat said, patting her awkwardly on the back. 

She turned and glared at him. “It was a live stream, Chat! LIVE! It’s out there. Right now!” 

“True,” he conceded, nodding his head, “but it’s not like you said anything horrible. It was kinda cute actually.” 

“You don’t understand,” she moaned, slumping over so until she was curled up in his lap, “I’ve ruined everything! What sort of an idiot starts babbling about their crush on a live broadcast.” 

“Well, apparently you,” Chat said with a light laugh, cautiously reaching forward to play with the ends of her hair, “and about half of the rest of the known world. It could be a lot worse buginette.” 

“Do you think there is a chance he didn’t see it?” she asked hopefully, looking up at her partner’s thoughtful expression. 

He gave her a pitying smile. “I think you’re pretty much out of luck their bugaboo. You already have a ship name and everything. It’s trending on twitter.” 

“Ugh, that’s terrible,” she groaned, curling up tighter and burying her face against his leg. 

“I don’t know,” Chat teased, “I thought Ladrien had kind of a nice ring to it.” 

“This can’t be happening,” she moaned. 

“Hey, come on. What’s this really about? Is it really going to be so awful for the guy to know you like him? He might be flattered.” 

“It’s not that,” Ladybug said softly, “I mean, it’s MORE than that. I haven’t even told him I liked him- as myself, my not Ladybug self I mean. And now… let’s say he does feel flattered? That just means I have made myself my own competition! And it’s not like I can just go up to him and be like: Hey, by the way I’m Ladybug and, as you already know, I’m totally in love with you! Want to date me now?” 

“Oh god,” Chat said with a sudden sense of horror, “there are going to be so many desperate fangirls trying to do that.” 

“I didn’t even think about that! If he didn’t before he’s definitely going to hate me now. I might be the only person in the world who can simultaneously confess to her crush and make it harder for him to notice me!”  

“You really are one of a kind there bugaboo,” Chat said giving her another reassuring pat on the shoulder. 

“And what if this puts him in danger? I mean I might as well have stamped a butterfly tattoo across his back saying property of Ladybug, please exchange for one miraculous!” 

“Please don’t do that. I am told that models need to be very particular about what they put on their skin.” 

“It’s not funny. What if I honestly made him a target?”

“Hey,” Chat said “I promise you, if anything happens I will be the first person on the scene.” 

“Thanks,” she said gratefully, reaching up and catching his hand in her own.

“So, you’re in love with the model boy,” Chat said softly, rubbing his thumb absently against the back of her hand, “gotta say I didn’t see that one coming.” 
“Yeah well, it’s not like it really matters anymore,” she sighed, “it’s not like it would ever happen.” 

He scoffed at her, rolling his eyes theatrically to show his clear contempt for her pessimism. “So tell me My Lady,” he asked shifting slightly so that he could look down at her with a playful smile, “what is it that you see in this guy anyways?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“You don’t want me, so clearly you aren’t after the guy for his looks,” Chat said wiggling his eyebrows flirtatiously. 

“No,” Ladybug laughed, “although they don’t hurt.” 

“Why My Lady, was that you finally admitting that you find me attractive?” 

“You’ve always been attractive and you know it,” she said reaching up and flicking his bell. “As you can see I’ve just had my attentions elsewhere.” 

“Oh so this is a long standing attachment then? How long have you been dreaming of being M’Lady Agreste?” he teased poking her lightly on the nose. 

“Almost from the first day I met him. It will be two years next week,” she said softly. 

“The start of school,” Chat murmured, “you know him then?” 

“yeah,” she admitted reaching blindly around to catch his other hand and pull him to her like a security blanket. “We were in the same class in college and we still have a few classes together now. Plus our friends are dating so we hang out a lot.” 

“You two are close then,” Chat said a little breathlessly, “that… well that certainly clears things up.” 
“Yeah,” Ladybug said, “it’s not just some creepy celebrity crush. I mean, it kind of was that too. I have like 2 dozen photos of him plastered on my wall that I used to practice talking to because for the longest time I could barely string a sentence together around him, it was kind of embarrassing. I got over it eventually, but by that point I didn’t really have the heart to take the pictures down.” 

Chat gave her a warm smile. “I can see it now, you stuttering and tripping and shooting the poor confused boy adorable awkward smiles before running off in the opposite direction.” 

“Shut up,” Ladybug said but she couldn’t help grinning at her partners soft tone and fond smile. “I got better.” 

“I know.” He raised one of her hands to his lips and gave her a delicate kiss. “So you still haven’t told me what you see in this guy,” he challenged, “If I am getting demoted to your rebound choice I deserve to know what I am up against,” he said slyly. 

“He’s kind,” Ladybug smiled, filling with warmth as she thought about her love. “He always wants to see the best in people,and he… he is just good, you know? The kind of goodness that doesn’t come from ignorance or being sheltered, but that has seen pain and and heartache and loss and yet still chooses to be good. 

“That is high praise indeed My Lady.” 

“You aren’t going to make fun of me for this?” 

“No My Lady. If anything I am going to love you more for it.” 

She gave him another grateful smile before sitting up. The sun had begun to set and she knew she should be getting home. She probably had a dozen of so missed calls from Alya waiting for her. 

“Well who knows,” she said attempting to be flippant. “Maybe he’ll finally just reject me and I will change my mind about you Kitty.” 

“Wouldn’t that be a twist,” Chat laughed climbing to his feet and offering her his hand to help her up as well. 

“It would probably be for the best,” she sighed. “It’s not like we can be together. Not with Hawkmoth still on the loose. There is too much at stake. And I don’t know if I could bear having to hide my identity in a relationship.” 

Chat grinned again. “You are very wise My Lady.” 

“Mostly I am just telling myself that so I can feel better,” she admitted and was rewarded with a loud melodious laugh. 

“You know,” he said, eyes twinkling “you are probably right. Clandestine meetings, midnight makeout sessions, it’s probably better to hold out for the real thing.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Besides, I hate to break it to you My Lady but I have a sinking feeling that #Ladrien is not to be.” 

“And why is that Kitty?” 

“Well,” Chat said looking out at the sunset, “not to be the bearer of bad news but I have it on very good authority that your lover is very much spoken for.” 

“oh?” Ladybug said trying not to let her disappointment show. 

“Yes, completely and hopelessly in love. Someone at his school in fact.” 

“And who is this mystery girl?” she asked. 

“It’s right on the tip of my tongue,” Chat said his eyes glittering with something she couldn’t quite name, “it will come to me. I’ll have to tell you next time I see you.” 

“Well thanks for the heads up,” she said leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek, “and thanks for cheering me up.” 

“Always My Lady. I should probably get heading home myself.” he pulled out his staff and and extended it. 

“Oh,” he said, shooting her a final grin as prepared to depart, “I do remember one thing.”
“And what’s that?” 

“The mystery girl, I knew there was something about her that I found particularly delectable.” 

“And what is that?” 

“Her parent’s own a bakery.”  

Ecstatic Witchcraft

This is a post a long time in the making, as it is something I’ve wanted to share for a while now, just because it is such an important part of my own craft. There is something truly magical about it and is, for me, something both very humbling and very empowering; as such, it is something that I think is worth sharing.

Foremost, the question to address is: What is ecstatic witchcraft? And one not so easily answered, as there cannot be any one way in which it is performed. It can (I think) be described as a form of trance magic, though its expression is not wholly tied to trance in the traditional sense. In essence, it is a surrendering of self and its simultaneous expression. It is a temporary shedding of the façade one erects to survive, Freud called it the superego and without it, so too falls away the ego. The goal of ecstatic witchcraft – if it can be called a goal – is to allow the id to manifest unencumbered, a means of channeling the primality. Of course, this manifests in innumerable ways and no two sessions would ever be the same, hence why it can be so tricky to pin down precisely.

I’ve found that – and it continues still – that the witchcraft community (predominately) has long perpetuated the notion of control as being paramount to success, and while this may be true to some extent, I believe the converse must also be explored. There is law and there is rigidity, there is correspondence memorization and a lot of book work: and this makes sense! For the last century (and in times before), this has been the main means of information acquisition. While it is not uncommon for witches to join groups, covens, etc., I’m willing to bet that most practicing witches were indoctrinated through solitary study. Again, there is nothing wrong with this, and I, myself, am contributing to this reservoir of written information as I type! But, as I mentioned, while I did my fair share of book work and memorization, the heart of my Craft has always been exploration. Tradition is important, but it’s never been enough for me. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: the best way to learn is to do. There will be mistakes; you will come to conclusions only to find things that defy them; you will learn to correct; you will learn to be skeptical, but not judgmental. You will learn there are a thousand purported ‘right’ ways, and then you will find your own. Nothing is static.

How does this relate then, to ecstatic witchcraft? It is a means by which to connect to that instinct: that intuition that drives us – shedding preconceived notions and allowing the opportunity for exploration through action. And action, I feel, is the root of ecstatic magic.

How To Perform Ecstatic Witchcraft

As I mentioned previously, there is no right way and I can only provide to you a number of facets of expression that are conducive to ecstatic witchcraft. These are by no means the only facets, and as always, I encourage you to explore what works for you.

  • Speak – It may seem counterintuitive to what I have said, for is speech not a construct? It is, but there is power in vocalization, even if speaking unintelligibly. This is an extension of opaque language – or language spoken ceremonially as a means of excluding those who are not privy to the religious tongue – and moves into the realm of glossolalia. Rarely do I include verbal scripts to be read in the things I post, as I find that they detract from the working themselves, instead encouraging those performing to speak what comes. This is a more controlled form of ecstatic witchcraft – bound by intention, time, and often language itself. Here, let all that fall away and simply: Speak.
  • Move – Ecstatic witchcraft, for me, is all about energy: movement, especially. It is best not to go into it with any plan, simply follow where your body takes you. If it says run, run; if it says dance, dance; if it says squat and howl like a wolf, by gods do it! It is for this and many reasons that ecstatic magic should be done in a controlled setting, normally somewhere safe – but I should mention, this need not be done alone! Ecstatic witchcraft can just as easily be done in groups, though it can get a little more dangerous, considering the id is often noted as being the seat of sexuality and aggression. I also recommend putting sharp objects away – you never know what the hype might bring – but hey, sometimes you just really need to throw a knife; perform responsibly.
  • Draw/Write – Admittedly, some of my coolest and most profound sigils have come from ecstatic sessions! There is something in me that always wants to take chalk and just go to town on every surface around – overtaken by mania. Automatic writing is related, in some ways, though often it is used with intent: channeling a specific spirit, deity, etc. Ecstatic magic requires no such formalities, bending to the whims of all and none, the witch is then but an instrument of the spirit: of the cosmos.
  • Laugh – Laughter is powerful.
  • Instruments – If you have at your disposal some musical instruments (I prefer maracas and tambourines), bring them in! And forget what you think you know about music, just roll with it. Hell, if you want to continuously shake a maraca and scream with one foot in the air, do it. Again, it’s all about energy, and instruments bring their own, unique vibes to the table.

Entheogens – *at your own risk; use responsibly* Sure, they might compromise some of the safety, but they also bring an entirely new level of exploration. For some. My use of entheogens in the past have always been hit-or-miss; sometimes they are conducive and other times they are hampering. Know what works for you, and be careful: you don’t want to show up at the nearest E.R. naked, tripping on an unknown substance with a painted face and defiantly shaking a maraca.

Sex – This harkens back to what I said about working in groups, sometimes there is a power in it, and the same can be said for adding sex in. When working with others, always plan for the possibility of sex! Especially with who you invite in, and in regards to safety. I don’t know the last time it was used, but the “It was for ecstatic witchcraft” excuse will not hold up: while it may sound like a damper, J.I.C. consent agreements and activity do’s and don’t’s should always be agreed upon beforehand, and should always be open to amendment. If you really want to, draw a circle: anyone who leaves it is has removed themselves from the session and should not be addressed until they reenter of their own accord.


With that, I hope it is becoming clear what ecstatic witchcraft is (or can be), its benefits and how it isn’t really all that new a concept. It is, for me, a profound experience every time – I come out feeling energized, powerful, but also with a new frame of mind, having shed societal constriction and attuned with both the divine and animalistic parts of myself – if even for a moment. In that it is humbling, and it is empowering.


Photo: Maenads, John Collier