#&like i am feeling particularly fucking angry at the fact that i officially own NOTHING objectively Nice

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[scandalsavagefanfic]

Hello! I am a huge fan of ur writing. I've loved everything I've read of yours. I've read alot of what you've posted, except for a couple of the tags that are squicky for me (so I'm very thankful you tag very thoroughly). No judgement for the squick, it's just not for me. & when I'm having a bad day, I usually just go thru ur ao3 and find something to reread. I think about Therapy's Bruce & Jason every damn day. While I obvs appreciate ur darker more "problematic" content (I really vibe with some of the themes you write about bc of my own trauma, & so it's very cathartic to read about in a fictional setting), I am truly a sucker for ur more happy content. The Happily Ever After verse also lives in my head rent free. Idk more wholesome stuff just seems more special when you write it. Anyways. I would die for you. But the point of this ask is cause I'm curious as to why you don't like Urban Legends? I'm sorry if you already talked about it here or on twitter and I missed it. I was just wondering because I really enjoy your take on things and would love to hear why you dislike it. I've been enjoying it so far personally, but I am always open to DC comics criticism.

Aw thank you so much! I'm so flattered by everything you just said. You're so sweet ❤❤❤❤❤

I haven't talked about Urban Legends here or twitter (I haven't been very active in either place lately. Just a lot going on and no energy 😔) but I'm happy to do it here.

Before I start though, I just want to add a standard disclaimer and make it clear that if you like it, there's nothing wrong with that and you don't have to let me ruin it for you lol. Like what you like.

That said, since you asked...

I said this when I was talking about it on discord, that there is a difference between hope and expectation. I always hope that a new story centered on Jason (or anyone really, but things have been especially egregious for Jay for 15 years) will be good or at least treat the character with a minimal level of respect (to be honest, the bar is super fucking low). But my expectations always temper my hope, to keep it from getting unrealistic. Because my expectations are based on experience.

The long history of Jason Todd, since even before his resurrection, has been one of retroactively trying to make him "a bad seed" in order to absolve Bruce of any responsibility in his death.

I don't even expect DC or their writers to start honoring the fact that Jason was not an angry, reckless Robin (and less of the later than Dick or Tim and definitely Damian). There plenty of ways that retcon can be folded into his history and be compelling and sympathetic. And if they're going to stick with that retcon, I'm only asking that they do it in one of those compelling and sympathetic ways because Jason was 15 when he died, heroically, in one of the most selfless acts in comics, to save a woman who literally handed him over to be brutally murdered. He was 12 when Bruce plucked him off the streets, he'd been homeless and fending for himself for at least two years. I personally think that Jason's story hits harder for him and Bruce if their original, canon relationship, of Jason as starry-eyed and eager to learn and absolutely devoted to Bruce and Bruce to Jason, is preserved. But Jason's origins does leave room for a meaningful interpretation of him as angry and frustrated at the lack of meaningful results of Bruce's methods.

And that's really where my irritation at stories like Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer and Batman The Adventure Continues has it's roots.

Every time one of these stories comes out, I think (or hope, rather) that this will be the one that remembers and respects the origins of the Jason and the Red Hood, that takes into account the changed sensibilities of comics readers in the 30 years since Jason's death and the subtle, 20 year, retroactive campaign to make him the "bad Robin". The "born bad" trope is played out and literally no one likes the message it implies. That some kids are just bad eggs and there's nothing parents or the adults around them can do. Especially when it's played as the kid's fault. If Jason's time as Robin is going to be characterized by anger, then it should be rooted in anger at the social injustices he witnessed as he grew up in an impoverished, crime-ridden, area and the horrors he faced raising himself when every day was a battle for survival. There are topical, meaningful, stories to tell with that backdrop.

But those are never the stories we get.

⚠⚠ Spoilers for Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer ⚠⚠

I'm particularly disappointed in Urban Legends because for the first issue, it looked like that was the kind of story we were going to get. I was put off by the first flashback of Jason being mesmerized by Bruce's guns, and I got that feeling in my gut that it was a bad sign. Jason depicted as impatient and overconfident and the scene with the guns is heavy-handed foreshadowing that got my spidey-sense tingling. I had a inkling then (in the first three pages) of how this story was going to play out, but it was early and I could still see many narrative paths that could lead to a satisfying story. My concerns were soothed somewhat and the little flame of my hope fanned, with the flashback of Alfred scolding Bruce, with Barbara's concern for Jason. A bit of worry returned with the way Jason ruthlessly pursued an addict who didn't appear to be a dealer and with the ending of the issue. The stuff with the addict sat wrong with me but the ending was tempered some by how despicable Tyler's dad was written. The scene was clearly set so that the reader could sympathize with Jason's decision and the scene with the addict could be brushed aside as a side-effect of comics over-the-top need for constant action, so I still held hope.

Issue 2 made me uncomfortable and it's where my hope starts to take a backseat to my expectations. I can dismiss Jason's self-deprecating internal monologue as unreliable narration, except that the flashback reinforces his thought process to explicitly show that it's not unreliable narration, and should be taken at face value. Jason faces physical abuse at the hands of his mother's drug dealer and when the flashback continues later, Jason kills the drug dealer. To be clear, this is a pre-Bruce Jason. His mom is still alive. He's like... 10. He kills this guy for shoving his head into a wall and implying Jason's mother paid for her drugs with sex. This is a scene that serves a single purpose. To show that Jason has always been prone to violence.

In the spirit of full disclosure, there is the small chance the drug dealer might not be dead. But the story obviously wants the reader to think he is, and it hasn't done anything to change that yet.

Starlin already did this story with The Diplomat’s Son in 1988 and he did it infinitely better. AND that’s still technically canon. So now I’m supposed to believe that Jason lost his cool bad enough to kill two douche bags before his sweet 16? Like it’s totally normal for abused kids raised in poverty, who’ve led hard and heartbreaking lives to just... haul off and kill people? That’s bullshit, and when taken with the Jason in the third issue, who is little more than an idiot thug, this story is really doubling down on some fucked up stereotypes.

Which brings us to the most recent issue. I went into this installment with very low expectations. I thought this story was going to be about Jason, through this experience with Tyler, a young boy with a similar background to Jason's, coming to the realization that Bruce's way is the best way and that Bruce did his best by Jason.

That would be annoying (in no small part because it takes increasingly absurd levels of plot armor to keep Bruce's no kill rule relevant, let alone irrefutably right). But I can probably live with that, if only because maybe if Jason officially falls back into line with the Bats crusade, maybe I'll get stories that treat him with respect, stories that don't relegate him to comic relief, dumb brute, or a background body with no lines in a story about the Joker burning Gotham (like Jason would just fucking stand there quietly for that).

And that may still be where the story is going, Jason realizing Bruce is right.

But holy shit do I not have the right words to describe how fucking insulting and gross issue three is.

From start to finish--including the flashback--Jason is written as cruel and fucking stupid. Like straight up dumb.

The entire issue is Bruce explaining the fucking basics to Jason like it's his first day. And Jason flies off the fucking handle and terrorizes a doctor he knows isn't a part of making the Cheerdrops, beats the shit out of some random addicts, and finally, when he can't accomplish anything on his own because he's a dumb brute he calls Barbara for help and rushes in with no information where he's promptly incapacitated and must now wait to be rescued by Batman.

This panel is the least of the issues sins but I can’t screenshot the entire story but it’s representative of the tone for the whole issue (and retroactively tainted the prior two issues).

This is beyond insulting. The only conclusions Jason comes to in this issue are the ones Bruce leads him to by talking to him like he can’t make the simplest connections. And like... in this story Jason can’t make the simplest connections.

This (and the Jason throughout the entirety of this issue) is a far cry from the Jason we fell in love with in Under the Red Hood, who was competent and strategic and intelligent enough to seize control of Gotham’s underworld from Black Mask (who’s no fucking slouch, he’s the first and only person to unify organized crime in Gotham) AND elude and manipulate Bruce until the time and place of his choosing.

This is a far cry from even the Red Hood and the Outlaws Jason who is competent enough to fight the League of Shadows and Ra’s al Ghul (among very dangerous and skilled others) and smart enough to create antidotes for mind control nanotech viruses.

As he should be, by the way. Jason Todd is one of the best, most comprehensively trained fighters in DC’s stable of non powered vigilantes. He’s not irrational or hot headed. He’s pragmatic, tactically minded, and patient. He’s a detective. Right now. Has been since he was 12. Bruce doesn’t have to make him one because he already is. 

Jason is not a stupid thug who uses his fists because his brain doesn’t work. And I can’t tell you how so very exhausted I am by this narrative. 

This is actually the most egregious example of Jason’s skills and intelligence being not just undermined but dismissed entirely. Even Morrison’s Jason had some degree of competency. 

The one, single redeeming factor of this story is the art. It’s beautiful. And Marcus To is a godsend he seems to be one of only a couple of artists who remember that Jason was a child when he was Robin and I’m literally only buying this book because of him. 

Anyway, I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to come out so... um... passionately lol. I’m just very very tired. My intention with this isn’t to ruin it for you, if you like it, that’s fine. 

But this issue shot this story to the top of my "Vehemently Despise” list. 1) Batman: Urban Legends (Cheer), 2) Battle for the Cowl/Morrison’s Batman and Robin, 3) Batman The Adventure Continues.

I hope the next issues somehow salvage this dumpster fire. But I’m not expecting it.

(Damnit. That sounded harsh again. To reiterate, I’m not trying to judge anyone who enjoys it, I just personally hate it and you asked me why lol 😅)

[coeurdastronaute]

Nerd 14

Previously on Nerd

There weren’t many things considered as decorations in the house on the corner of Inglewood Street. The old stone house, with its black shutters and manicured lawn hid behind a stately oak and the polished Porsche in the driveway, glowed as a beacon in the neighborhood, of perfection and wealthy modesty. Inside, it was less populated than one might expect, never fully lived-in, at least not to the casual observer. 

Clarke moved her way down the stairs as she balanced the bag on her shoulder, fully prepared for work and then studying with her girlfriend on a fairly boring Saturday night. For the first time in a long time, she looked at the sparse frames of pictures of her family. 

Unsure of what made her pause, she furrowed, pushing her eyebrows tightly together and leaning into the image of her mother and father on a random date when they were together in college. They were carefree and at some bar trivia night. Abby hugged Jake’s bicep and nearly hid in his shoulder as he leaned forward, other arm lifted to interject an answer. He was smiling wide despite his eagerness, the flash ricocheting off part of his large glasses. His hair was floppy and fully, swept to the side and neatly arranged, while Abby was brimming with life. Clarke loved the candid picture because sometimes she looked at it, and these were two people who had entire lives and experiences and she forgot that. They probably got butterflies like she did when Lexa smiled at her. They probably spent hours excitedly waiting to see the other. 

In that picture, her mother wasn’t the person she was now, though both seemed insanely far away from Clarke. This college-aged person was alive, vibrant, in-love, awake, eager, and not cheating on her husband. The body language alone showed how much she adored him. 

In that picture, her father was the funny, charming man she remembered, not the angry, frustrated man who was skin and bones, who couldn’t eat, who couldn’t swallow, who had difficulties moving most days and remembering his own daughter others. He was alive as well. He was the man everyone wanted to sit beside for some reason, for som inexplicable reason he had this… he had a spark that drew those to him like a moth to a flame, except he was that flame, and he shared his light eagerly with those around him. 

Clarke relaxed her face after a few moments of looking and seeing and trying to find some kind of detail in that picture that would indicate that the couple in it would know what their life would like like two decades later. There wasn’t a single indication, and that terrified her. 

“Did you finish you math?” her mother’s voice called from the hallway, hearing her daughter shift and move to look at the next picture without seeing her first. 

“Yes.” 

The next image was a very tiny Clarke on her father’s shoulders and her mother hugging his waist as they all stood beneath a redwood tree. They had hiking gear, shorts, sunglasses, hats and sunscreen. They were all smiling. They were a family. 

“Did you email me that draft of your personal essay for applications?” 

Clarke gave up perusing, no longer feeling the yearn for that family unit that was far away. She rolled her eyes and stomped her way down the steps to find her mother sorting through envelopes and mail. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” Abby didn’t look up as she flipped.

“Because I’m a junior, and I have five months before applications are due.”

“That’s no excuse not to be prepared. Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time chasing after some gir--”

“Who am I chasing after?” Clarke scoffed, crossing her arms and peering at her mother. “Do you mean helping Lexa on her submission for film school? Do you mean tennis practice? Do you mean working part time? Do you mean having a social life?” 

“Considerate that you can help someone else get into college.” 

“It’s going to take her months to edit, which I can’t-- I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

That did it. Clarke knew it would. Clarke new an overt expression of her own independence would trigger her mother. She knew arguing and not appearing to care about college would give her the satisfaction of a righteous fight. She wanted it. It’d been brewing for about a week and a half, ever since Clarke said she was going prom dress shopping without her. Ever since Clark forgot to tell her about spending the night camping with Lexa and the film crew while the powered through the project. Ever since Clarke didn't’ come home for dinner last Tuesday and then raved about Mrs. Woods’ garlic chicken. Tiny things Clarke did with spite because she didn’t know what else to do, because she couldn’t do anything else. 

Abby’s nostrils flared and Clarke jutted her hip, shrugging to herself as she dug for her phone, ready to go to work and escape the house and the persistent smell of medical equipment and cleaner that haunted her until she was about two blocks from the house. 

“I’ll be home around midnight.” 

“Like hell you will. You’ll be home right after your shift.” 

“No,” Clarke paused as she turned to leave. “I’m going over Lexa’s to study. We’re watching a Cary Grant movie.” 

“You’re under the misconception that you get to make your own schedule and plans without asking permission. But that is not the case, Clarke.” 

“I’ve been doing fine.” 

“You’ve barely been home. Your father is--”

“Right there, in that room, asleep. I know this because I spent the morning with him. We made pancakes and played a game of cribbage. We talked about school and Lexa and I showed him pictures of the past week of my life. And I helped him with his meds because he’s having a bit of a flare. I told him I’d see him in the morning for omelettes because we���ve been watching cooking shows together and he wants to try the french style. I know exactly what is going on with my father.” 

She hadn’t meant to, but her voice began to raise as she spoke. Clarke felt her fist shake. She felt her muscles tighten and her jaw clench. She was okay with being considered lazy and unmotivated, but to be accused of negligence was uncalled for, especially from someone like her mother. 

“Don’t you raise your voice! You are greatly mistaken as to the nature of our relationship. I am your mother, and I am sick of your attitude, and your priorities not being your father and your family or your education.” 

“Lexa has nothing to do with any of that. Are you just mad I’m dating a girl? Or that I don’t care what you think anymore?” 

Slightly taken aback by her daughter, by her words, by her actions, by her entire demeanor over the past few months and frankly just sick of dealing with being the bad guy. 

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” Abby shook her head. 

“I could say the same thing.” 

The two stared at each other before Clarke shook her head and adjusted her bag. She toyed with her keys in her pockets before checking her phone again. 

“I’m going to be late for work. I’ll be back tonight.” 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Abby insisted again. “You’re grounded indefinitely.” 

“Except I’m not,” Clarke sighed and shook her head. “I’m not because I don’t care anymore. I genuinely don’t.”

“You’re going to. Give me your keys and your phone.” 

“No.” 

“I’m not joking, Clarke. You’re going to need to readjust your priorities and attitude.”

“I think you should take your own advice,” Clarke insisted as she reached the front door. “Or are you too busy fucking Kane to realize that there is no more family here?” 

With a satisfying slam, she yanked the door shut. The anger that was stationed in her shoulders dissipated with the noise and movement. Clarke stood there in the quiet of her perfect neighborhood, the flapping of the flag lazily moving in the spring breeze was all she heard at first. Then the birds came. Then a lawnmower started in the distance. 

Clarke felt lighter than she’d felt in a long time. She also felt emptier than any other time in her life. It was officially the end, and now she had to deal with that because the anger and the hurt and the betrayal was all she’d had in her for what felt like months. It hadn’t made anything better, and it certainly ruined everything, but Clarke took some solace in the fact that now she could try to fill herself up with something else. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The party at Bellamy Blake’s house was in full swing by the time Lexa made her way up the winding driveway and into the belly of the beast. She wasn’t sure how she ended up there exactly, except that her girlfriend texted and said to show up. That seemed to be enough of a reason, though Lexa wasn’t particularly prepared. They’d had plans. Quiet plans. Private plans. Movie plans. 

And now Lexa was going to her girlfriend’s ex’s party. 

She shoved her hands in her pockets as she moved through the crowd, clearly not getting the memo that jeans were not entirely good enough attire, and in fact she seemed to be extremely overdressed. Her eyes bugged slightly as she watched a girl from her physics class walk by in a very tiny, very teeny lime green bikini. Lexa became suddenly aware of the appeal of such things, as if she hadn’t noticed them before, but then MIchelle who sat diagonally in front of her third period looked like that and she gulped. 

The music thumped loudly. The beats were rattling the walls and shaking the windows while the screams and giggles of her classmates sought to shatter glass. It wasn’t like the other parties she’d been to with Clarke. It wasn’t even like thrones Anya dragged her to when she visited. This was a night of debauchery and she hadn’t had time to prepare. 

And as much as she saw everyone else wearing bikinis, she hadn’t thought about Clarke wearing one. She’d seen Clarke’s boobs before. That was nice. But there was something to her girlfriend in a bikini that was… good. Very good, even. 

Lexa pushed her glasses up slightly on her nose and stared. 

“What are you doing here?” Gus asked, approaching quietly. She didn’t move or say anything else, just stared from across the pool, the steam billowing upward to ward the sky while everyone seemed to glow blue and green and red, the lights alternating around them, the flames of the fire pits dancing to keep everyone warm. The warm glow of the lights inside were lost on the white-blue shade to the water. 

“Lexa, focus,” he snapped his fingers in front of her face. “What are you doing here? Your sister would kill me if she knew you were at a Blake party.” 

“How is it different than any other party?” 

“It just is.” 

“Because of the pool? I’ve been to pool parties.” 

It hadn’t been since seventh grade and didn’t look like an episode of a CW show, but still, she’d been to a pool party with many of the same cast of characters that were currently on display. It was before puberty, but still. 

“We need to get you home.” 

“Clarke invited me.” 

“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t your scene.” 

“I can be in any scene. I’ve watched every John Hughes movie.”

“This is more of an episode of Euphoria than an 80s teen flick,” Gus sighed and took another swig from his cup. “And I fully believe you would fit in fine with Molly Ringwald.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Lexa nodded. “I’ll be fine.” 

She took her eyes off of her girlfriend long enough to assure her friend that she was perfectly fine now. She was dating the head cheerleader. She’d been to parties and seen--

“Gus-- is that cocaine?” 

“Okay, yeah, we have to get you out of here,” he shook his head and tossed his empty cup into a flowerbed. 

“Is it really?” she asked, craning her neck as he pushed her forward. “I’ve never see that in real life before. People actually do that thing with the credit cards and dollar bills? Astounding. Where does one get cocaine?” 

“You don’t need to know that.” 

“I’m not going to do it. I’m just curious.” 

They only made it a few steps before the ran into a sopping body. A tall, muscular, tan, perfectly chiseled and dripping body. It was the body of an actual god. It was the body of the perfect specimen, with biceps and the long swimmer cuts that pointed firmly toward his… his-ness. 

“Gus, long time, man. How you been?” Bellamy Blake grinned before slipping his cup in his teeth as he hugged the other football player. 

“Not too bad. Heard you’re heading to Oregon in the fall?” 

“Yeah, partial scholarship. We’ll see what happens,” he shrugged. “Staying close?” 

“Yeah, St. Johns, about three hours away.” 

“Full ride?” 

“Yeah. I got offered half to OSU, but would rather not have to pay anything.” 

“No, that’s smart.” 

The whole time they spoke, Lexa watched Clarke’s ex intently. She frowned to herself and wondered how her girlfriend broke up with him. He was effortlessly cool. He was huge. He looked like he knew how to go down on a girl, and Lexa was still apprehensive. She wished she could fast forward in life until she was really good at sex. 

She watched him grin and sip from his red cup, meeting her eyes curiously as Gus explained something about his college recruitment process. 

“I don’t think we’ve ever met before. I’m Bellamy.” 

He held out his hand. And though she didn’t want to do it, she sighed and shook his hand. 

“Sorry, I should have introduced you. This is Lexa.” 

“Lexa… Lexa…” He mulled. 

“Anya Woods’ sister.” 

“Wow, you’re Anya’s little sister?” 

“Yeah.” 

“How is she? I forgot she had a little sister. I remember her little brother died-- oh shit.” 

“Yeah.” 

“We were just heading out,” Gus interrupted. 

“I was actually just going to go talk to Clarke.” 

“Why would you--”

Before anything else could be said, before anything else could transpire between the two of them, before Gus had to interrupt again, Clarke appeared, launching herself into her girlfriend’s arms, wrapping her own around her neck, her body still slightly damp from the pool she must have just climbed out of during the awkward introduction. 

“You’re here. I’m so happy,” Clarke hummed against Lexa’s warm neck. She buried herself there, suffocating herself happily, slightly tipsy. 

“I told you I’d stop by.” 

Clarke kissed her girlfriend’s neck. She leaned most of her body against her there and giggled, oblivious to the eyes, too drunk to care about anything else happening. 

“I am have the worst day. Maybe the worst week. Maybe the worst year ever. No, wait. Definitely the worst year, and today I finally told my mom everything and then left. So Yeah. It’s been terrible. I got drunk.” 

“Not the healthiest coping mechanism.”

“Not a bit,” Clarke grinned, agreeing eagerly and with a wide grin. She leaned forward and kissed her girlfriend despite her words. 

“You can be healthy tomorrow,” Lexa offered. “You okay?” 

“As okay as can be.” 

There was some throat clearing that happened behind them, and Lexa felt a burning in her ears and chest at the display, unaccustomed to it all. 

“So this is your new girlfriend?” Bellamy asked, looking at the pair. 

“Lex, I suppose you’ve met my ex,” Clarke gestured. 

“Kind of.” 

“Is this party a little much?”

“If I remember correctly, this was exactly the kind of thing you liked. We went to many a party in our tenure,” Bellamy shrugged, lazily leaning against a counter. “Things changed since I left, I guess.” 

“I enjoyed not thinking,” Clarke offered. “You were great for that.” 

Gus and Lexa looked between the two and then at each other. She was almost certain she didn’t know what was happening, but that certainly, something was, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. 

“You moved on quick, huh?” 

“Hey, step back,” Gus interrupted as Bellamy took a single step. “This is Anya’s sister.” 

“Woods?” he furrowed. “You’re dating Anya Woods’ kid sister?” 

“Yup,” Clarke nodded. 

“I heard she was--”

“Standing right here,” Gus finished. 

Lexa felt Clarke’s hand move into her own and she smiled despite the fact that she was picking up a drunk girl at her college guy ex’s party. There was a lot in that sentence she wasn’t happy about, now that she thought about it. 

“You ready to get out of here?” Lexa asked innocently, ignoring the rest. 

“I think we still have a few more shots lined up, Clarke,” Bellamy smiled and Lexa understood the need to punch. 

Noticeably torn, she looked at her girlfriend and back at her ex before realizing that she was actually drunk, and that wasn’t good. Lexa smiled softly and rubbed her girlfriend’s back. She kind of imagined how it must have felt to implode and take her mother down with her. Lexa remembered the feeling of telling her father she was gay and sad. Clarke’s implosion didn’t seem as successful as her own, and Lexa was more than happy to try to help in whatever way she could. 

“Can I stay at your place tonight?” 

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded quickly. “I’ll text my mom to let her know.” 

“You’re seriously leaving?” The college football player and terrible ex scoffed. “The night is still young. It’s barely after eleven.” 

“Thanks for getting me drunk, but I should probably go do something better.” 

“Thanks for showing me around,” Lexa offered nodding her head slightly toward the host before he could argue. “Have a good night. I’ll see you on Monday, Gus.”

“Get home safe,” the linebacker warned. 

Slightly dumbfounded, Bellamy Blake stood there, hands on his hips as he watched his ex weave through the crowd of people and disappear. As much s everything stayed the same, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling of change, and how averse he was to it. 

XXXXXXXXXX

“Here, you can, uh,” Lexa quickly moved through her bedroom, leaving her girlfriend standing by the bed. “I have some old sweats if you want.” 

Already, Clarke began taking off her pants, and Lexa quickly looked in the drawers of her dresser. She felt the tips of her ears burn slightly as she looked over her shoulder, her girlfriend slumping into the bed, pants lost to the floor. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I knew it,” Clarke sighed, rubbing her face with both hands to ride herself of the spinning. “But I didn’t care. I just wanted to… you know…”

“You had it out with your mom. You just anted to go far away. I get it.” 

“Don’t be nice to me. I knew better than to go, especially to anything involving Bellamy Blake.” 

“Why?” 

“He doesn’t care about any of it. Just has drinks. I should have called you or like done something else.” 

“You’re allowed to want to take a night off from a giant secret after a huge fight. And you don’t need my permission,” Lexa reminded her girlfriend, offering an old shirt. 

“It was stupid.” 

“Do you feel better?” 

Gingerly, Lexa tugged at Clarke’s shirt, pulling it over her head until she flopped back down on the bed, her hair fanning out against the pillow. Agitated at herself, at her clothe, at the unfathomable uncontrollability to the entirety of her life, Clarke growled to herself as she tugged off her bra, tossing it to the side and gracelessly pulling on the shirt Lexa offered. 

“I don’t feel better at all.” 

It was certainly a pout, and Lexa did her best to ignore it. Instead, she slicked off the light beside the bed, and slid between the sheets next to Clarke. Lexa laid there until Clarke turned to face her, until she placed her hand on her neck and cheek. 

“I’m sorry you had to pick me up.” 

“It’s okay,” Lexa whispered. 

“It’s not. I’m not like this… I don’t mean to be… I mean--”

“It’s okay.” 

Clarke leaned forward, shifting beneath the blankets until their knees were touching. She moved to only push the hair from Lexa’s forehead and she paused before kissing her lips. She tasted the warmth of the tequila there and she didn’t care. Lexa signed. 

“Please don’t give up on me anytime soon,” Clarke murmured. Stunned from the kiss, Lexa blinked in the dark and shifted closer. 

“I wouldn’t ever.” 

“I know you wouldn’t. I just had to say it out loud.” 

“Okay.” 

Lexa was certain she was going to get another kiss, but instead, Clarke dug her forehead under her girlfriend’s chin and pressed their bodies together, hugging her tightly and disappearing, being overwhelmed, anchoring herself to a steady force. Lexa rubbed Clarke’s back for a few moments until she fell asleep, and then she allowed herself the option of sleep.

NEXT

[fencesandfrogs]

hi my name is matthew and i have some thoughts about haes

okay disclaimers: i’m a little jumpy around the subject so while i don’t feel i’m being unnecessarily harsh/unfair, if ur firm on haes w no yielding, and you don’t want to argue about it? either skip this or don’t respond. i don’t really care. but i’m putting the body under a read more.

[3k words, 10 minute read. sections headers, some text italicized for emphasis/some readibility. no images/videos, a few links.]

second disclaimer: i’m not planning on going heavy on sources. i will happily provide sources to people who want them, and i haven’t written the actual post yet but it’s unlike me not to cite anything, but doing an in depth well researched and sourced post on this type of subject is not something i’m up for right now.

like i said, i’m jumpy around this subject. and on the off chance someone decides this post is Bad and i must be banished to the Bad Blogs Bin, i’d rather not put a lot of work into it.

third disclaimer: i’m not particularly interested in reading X study that says actually no people who way 700 pounds are healthy and people who weigh less than 200 are going to die early deaths. i know that’s a straw man i needed to a) get it out of the way now and b) i just am tired all the time and don’t have a ton of itme for it. that said, if you do send one to me, i will probably read it at some point, and i may or may not provide my thoughts.

right then. moving on.

with no more waffling, my thesis is as follows: weight stigma is bad, however obesity is killing people and i really would like people to stop pretending it doesn’t.

i. really hate that that’s a controversial opinion. i mean i hold a decent number of somewhat controversial opinions, most of which i keep to myself because i’m a firm believer that what i think about something should not interfere with how other people live their lives. as a noncontroversial example, i think mormons are in a cult. children, being minors, being indoctrinated is a problem, one i myself am not dedicated to solving because i have other issues but as far as adults involved, that’s their business.

(*please note that i’m not expanding on my thoughts because this post is about haes but i do have a more complicated opinion i’m just trying to demonstrate something please don’t at me about cults i know that they’re bad and adults in them also need help getting out that’s not the point of this post & i’m anxious enough so like, please.)

anyway so. obesity. is bad. it is bad for your health. if you are obese, you are not healthy. that said, i am not going to tell you to lose weight. no one should tell you to lose weight except for your doctor and maybe your immediate family, and that should be from a place of “you are not living your best life and i care about you.” i, an internet stranger, along with pretty much everyone you know, does not get to tell you about how terrible your life is and what a horrible person you are for existing, because you are not a bad person for being overweight. you do not deserve discrimination or mistreatment. even if you’re not actively trying to lose weight. it doesn’t matter. you are a human being like any other and i will fight like hell for you.

i’m not planning on going heavy into eating disorders because a) that’s a triggering topic for me and b) it’s going to muddle the point i’m getting, but since it is a large part of the arguments re. haes, it’s certainly going to come up, so i’d like to list the officially recognized eating disorders.

Anorexia Nervosa (AN)

Bulimia Nervosa (BN)

Binge Eating Disorder (BED)

Other Specified Feeding and Eating Disorder (OSFED)

Pica

Rumination Disorder

Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder (ARFID)

Unspecified Feeding or Eating Disorder (UFED)

Other (aka “we are considering making this its own category but for matthew’s purposes it fits into AFRID or UFED well enough because the details aren’t important”)

so yeah. we’ll circle back to this.

section one: haes

haes initially stood for heatlh at every size. that doesn’t really matter anymore because people say healthy at every size now, however, the distinction is important. because.

okay. when i say being obese makes you inherently unhealthy, i am not saying you are having health problems for being overweight. i am saying you have a chronic illness. i have asthma. that makes me inherently unhealthy. i don’t necessarily have an health problems because i am asthmatic, but i have a chronic illness and it certainly would, say, make me more likely to die from covid. that is a fact. saying healthy at every lung functionality would not change that.

but you know, i can still be active and like smell plants and interact in the world like anyone else. i just try to keep my inhaler near by.

so similarly, if you are overweight/obese (i’ve been saying only obese because its less letters so i’m sticking with that), you can, like, live ur best life and take care of your health. you can feel good about your body and eat good food and move and again, i really don’t want anyone reading this to feel that i think everyone who’s obese needs to lose that weight because adults can do whatever they want.

what i’m angry about is that a good thing (encouraging people to make good choices no matter what so they can feel good in their bodies) got turned into a bad thing (telling people they don’t need to change what they’re doing because they’re perfectly healthy).

section two: but what about...?

see my third disclaimer. but as a fast rundown of things i probably won’t talk about in detail later:

the obesity paradox is a specific thing about a specific type of illness in the elderly. it’s also not about obesity, it’s about being slightly overweight. it’s a complicated thing, but it’s not true most of the time

sumo wrestlers have major health problems as soon as they stop exercising like crazy.

did you know there are countries where girls are force fed to become overweight? diet culture goes both ways

if you want to say healthy at every size, you have to mean that every. that means you are not allowed to say shit about underweight people. i’m sorry, is someone you care about wasting away? are they 5′10 and weigh  90 pounds and their hair is falling out because they aren’t eating? i’m sorry, you said people are healthy at every size. you can’t make fun of skinny people. you have to suck it up because you can’t have your cake and eat it too.

section three: self care

a hypothetical that is blindingly obvious to where i’m going: if a small child wants to play with a knife, are you caring for them by giving into it? what if they want to drink some vodka? what if they want to run away from home to live with a stranger in a white van?

i really really hope all those answers are “no, you’re neglecting that child, and also possibly actively harming it.”

so my point is pretty obvious: giving yourself something because you want it does not mean you are caring for yourself.

you know what i want  to do all the time? sleep and rewatch twilight every day. but that makes me feel worse. so even though it’s terrible and i hate it, i have to take care of myself (because there is only one of me that i ever get) and go outside and talk to people and eat something that isn’t popcorn because you need protein to live.

(sorry i tried to keep nutrition out of that but i have to actively seek out sufficient salt and protein due to my campus doing a lot of low sodium food, which is bad when u actually need to eat a good amount of salt to keep ur body working, and also i’m vegetarian. so i’m constantly making myself seek it out.)

that doesn’t mean self care is always supposed to be work, but i mean. i’ve always not really gotten into it. i think because i’m hella depressed and i’ve been depressed long enough i can recognize it as this separate entity when it comes to a lot of the mental stuff. like, why do i feel like everything is meaningless? that’s just the depression.

but i digress, this isn’t about me. [proceeds to talk about me again]

one phrase i like a lot for myself is “bad food makes me feel bad.” now, i’m not a fan of putting moral judgements to food. but this works for me, personally. sure, eating a bunch of ice cream right now is good, but it’s going to suck when my stomach flips the fuck out because of all the sugar. and so it seems quite obvious to me that eating that ice cream is not, in fact, caring for my body.

and i think we’d collectively be a bit better served if we could learn to distinguish between self-care and self-kindness. ask anyone who does caregiving (childcare, nurses, etc): it is hard, often thankless (at least for children they’re devils who don’t realize that their toys will get wrecked if they don’t pick them up) work. you care for them not by doing what they want, but what is best for them.

section four: diet culture

as i’ve already played my hand up above with underweight vs haes, i think it’s kind of obvious that i have strong feelings about underweight not being healthy also. so i just want to take stock of what is and isn’t diet culture, and what i think about it. this is probably the most subjective part of this essay.

things i think are diet culture

people trying ridiculous diets. obviously diet culture in the purest sense. it’s real dumb. you need all the food groups to live. sometimes it’s okay, like cutting out sugar, but i’d say its a net negative

not trying to do lifestyle changes. that’s the sustainable way to lose weight. so. yeah.

weight cycling. actually still up for debate if this is bad. this paper says no, along with a lot of others, but i’m not sitting down and reading through all of them, and all of the ones that say its bad, to offer my opinion. i’m leaning towards “it’s better than nothing,” but we’ll see

a lot of other stuff i’m doing this off the top of my head and trying to avoid issues w eating disorders so.

things i think aren’t diet culture

women being pressured to look a certain way. that’s been going on for a long time. being skinny used to be bad. it’s a fact of the patriarchy.

most things? idk i have this impression that like, anyone exercising or eating healthy is a part of diet culture, when in reality, people just have different lifestyles. (also, again, if you’re going with haes, as in HealthyAES (hyaes?) you can’t call it unhealthy or you’re not respecting that damn E)

in conclusion: diet culture has issues, but the correct response to them is not “fuck you, i’m eating fourteen pounds of sugar.” eat fourteen pounds of sugar because you want to. (also it should be fat because if you really want to stick it to the man you should be eating fat, big sugar is responsible for a huge amount of todays dietary problems, both on the under/overweight side)

section five: discrimination

yeah no fuck people who discriminate about fat people. that’s all i’m just moving along to a transition since i was drifting away from my point about health.

section six: weight stigma

...is not responsible for your health issues. being obese is. accept the consequences of your lifestyle.

well. okay. that’s a little unfair. accept the consequences of not treating your chronic illness. and i feel i’ve probably lost people for calling obesity an illness but that’s the whole point of my post.

just like carrying externally heavy objects hurts your joints, so does carrying a lot of weight inside. fat does not cushion your organs, it kills them. getting rid of weight stigma will not make these issues go away.

the treatment for obesity is eating the number of calories you need to sustain a healthy weight at your current exercise levels. (*please consult with your doctor this is more complicated when you have to lose a lot of weight.)

section seven: cico. or, why your metabolism is fine

your body does not break the laws of thermodynamics. it cannot magically create more energy out of a given amount of calories.

there are issues with calorie counting, yes. i think it’s usually done in an unsustainable way that isn’t teaching people to make decisions, just to do math. it can be hard to get an accurate count.

but you are not a miracle of science. you have not discovered how to create and destroy energy. i’m sorry to be the one to break if to you.

if you don’t believe me, if you’re really sure your metabolism is different, go on and get it tested. tell your doctors. because it’s a major problem if it’s not working right.

similarly, i’m sorry, but if someone is the same height as you and a (very, like, +- 50 pounds) different weight, and neither of you have exisitng health conditions, you are not eating the same things/doing the same exercise. you have not broken the laws of physics.

possibly, one of you have untreated celiacs or something of the ilk meaning your body is actually malfunctioning. but if that’s true, i excluded you already, so shoo. get out of here and play in the sun with the other kids.

if you don’t believe this, there’s not much i can do to convince you. but i encourage you to count your calories for a month. find some tdee calculators. weigh yourself. make sure you count everything, it all goes down. check the math. (you can do any amount of time but a month is what you need for weight to be meaningful imo otherwise you’re just proving weight fluctuates a lot).

section eight: cico. or, why counting calories is not disordered eating

it can sure be a symptom of disordered eating, and it can certainly make disordered eating worse, but it isn’t an eating disorder.

also, assuming you’re not trying to verify the laws of thermodynamics, i don’t think counting every calorie is necessary. i have approximate values (500/meal, and around 300 in snacks), which i try not to go over or under.

yeah. i actually use calorie counting to make sure i’m eating enough in one sitting. some of my medication screws with my apetite and then i only eat like 300 calories and suddenly its like 11 and i need to go to bed but i’m hungry but eating before bed makes me feel terrible and it sucks.

but hey, according to some people, avoiding that is unhealthy.

okay i’m moving on before i get salty because the next section is touchy

section nine: eating disorders.

the three main eating disorders are listed way up there. they’re the first three. AN, BN, BED.

oh, yeah, binge eating? that’s actually disordered eating too. it’s not normal.

i’m not going to elaborate on the point because i absolutely know i can’t do it without getting really fucking angry that people call calorie counting disordered eating, like i haven’t watched a fifth grader eat one meal a day because she’s scared she’s overweight. like i haven’t watched a sixth grader cram food into his mouth until he’s sick because he’s worried he’s not bulky enough for sports. like i haven’t watched an eleventh grader tell me he hasn’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday, but it’s fine, he doesn’t want his mac and cheese anyway, since he needs to lose weight.

you think someone keeping track of some numbers is an eating disorder? then either you’re lucky enough to never have to deal with eating disorders on a personal level, and i’m very happy for you, or you have, and you should maybe reevaluate that.

alright i’m cutting myself off now whoop.

section ten: intuitive eating

you know, much like haes, i want to like this. it fits in with my bad-food-makes-me-feel-bad mentality. i’m angry and tired and hungry because i ate like, a late breakfast/early lunch and now i need to eat again because if i don’t eat every six to eight hours i have a medical condition that makes me feel like shit (an aside: unless you’ve been told by a doctor, you don’t need to eat every 2-3 hours. unless you’re a child or have an applicable medical condition, you can probably eat one meal a day and be firne.)

but much like haes, it now has a meaning i can’t in good consience endorse. i can’t stand for a movement that tells people who acknowledge weight makes their joints hurt that they just need to keep eating until they feel better.

section eleven: conclusion

i have a lot more thoughts but again i’m hungry. i meant to talk more about IE and my problems with it but maybe that will be its own post.

i won’t say i’m happy to talk about this because i can’t promise i am (see: eating disorder issues.), but i will most likely respond to constructive discussion if someone sees this and wants to. i can also provide sources. i hate going, “sources available on request” but i tried to provide some stuff for some of the heavily disputed/i already had a source for it and didn’t have to dig through google scholar to find information that’s been peer reviewed.

and i do sincerely wish everyone, at any size, that they fracture the disconnect between them and their bodies (oop didn’t talk about that either another time then) & that they find peace with who they are, and that they get to live happy & fulfilling lives.

[quasieli]

top six: fictional characters that give you gender envy, flowers, little things that make you happy and d&d moments :D

Ooh lotsa questions!

Gender Envy:

1) Bow from She-Ra (2018). Something about buff athletic dude who wears crop tops and is soft as hell is very Gender to me.

2) Vax from Critical Role. Pretty boy, kinda goth rogue? That’s sexy as hell and I wish that was me. 

3) In a wildly different idea of gender envy, I’ve been thinking about it lately and @quantum-lesbian’s character in the Frostmaiden game I’m in with them, Ambrose, is Big Gender. Beautiful non-binary drow with a starry and kinda witchy aesthetic that dresses super grandly and ostentatiously no matter the occasion? Yes please.

4) Pete from The Unsleeping City, specifically season two. I adore season one Pete but season two Pete that works in a queer bookshop and has a teapot arcane focus, is artsy and is unapologetically a trans man who doesn’t give a shit about gender roles? Sign me the fuck up.  

5) Beau from Critical Role. Buff GNC lesbian mixed with academia, but like academia from the prospective of a grad student with ADHD trying to learn everything about their special interests? A+, I love her and I’m jealous. 

6) I’m gonna cheat a lil bit for this last one. I know the prompt is fictional characters, but Julia Lepetit and Jacob Andrews in their Hitman streams? Simultaneously both of them were Gender for me. Jacob esp felt like that for me, which is weird cause dresses can make me dysphoric, but I am also slightly envious of the Dude in a Dress type of gender presentation. 

Can you tell that I’m a confused trans masc enby

Gonna put it under the cut from here cause oof, there’s still a lot more.

Flowers:

1) Big slut for Sunflowers, always have been, always will be.

2) Fun fact, my dad’s family used to own a flower shop (in like the 70s, so I never got to see it :(), and one of their big things was hydrangeas. My dad has always loved them and now I love the snowballs too!  

3) A recent favorite, the Baker’s Globe Mallow. It’s a type of flower that only grows from the soils of forests that have been affected by wildfires. It’s a simple little flower but I love the idea of something beautiful rising from the ashes after tragedy. A little dramatic, but I’m queer, ofc I’m dramatic.

4) Roses are another important flower to my family (Rose was a family name for a couple generations), and ya know, they’re a classic. 

5) There’s this beautiful magnolia tree in front of my house that blooms with the most beautiful white and pink flowers every spring, and it’s one of my favorite things to see every year. 

6) There’s so many different types of Lillies and they’re all very pretty, but the Purple Stargazer is prob my favorite.

Little Things That Make Me Happy:

1) My cat, Maddie. She may be a cranky girl at times, but she is also very sweet and will always be my baby (even though she is 12). 

2) Not a little thing really, but my best friend. Just getting a sweet/silly text from her or the two of us chilling in a room, sitting in a comfortable silence because we just like being together, nothing better. 

3) Baking, esp if I’m doing it for others. I’m not much of a sweets person myself, a little treat every once in a while type person, but I love baking. It’s a very relaxing process for me, even when it can sometimes get stressful, but seeing people enjoying something I made, especially something that brought me great joy to make, is simply the best. 

4) In the same sorta vein, crafting and other art, but that’s a bit more personal. I love making things for others, but art, particularly drawing, is something I do more for me. It’s such a great feeling when you can get into a really good art mood and just sink yourself into a project. I love it.

5) My plush toys. Yes, I am a 23 year old, no I will not stop loving my plushies. I just got a few new friends, which I made a post about recently, and they such good cuddle buddies. However, there is one king amongst them all. I have this old, beat up christmas puppy beanie baby, on his tag named Jingle Pup, but I just call him Jingle. I had one version of him since I was like 6, but he currently lives on a shelf cause he is very beaten up and fragile, but his “brother”, who I got when I was 8, is still in kinda good shape and is currently chilling on my chest as I type this lol.

6) Again, not a little thing, but it’s important to mention; D&D. The game itself is such a joy, but truly the best part of it is the people. I love creating stories and memories with people through this weird little game. Truly one of my favorite things to do.

D&D Moments:

These are all gonna be personal moments, rather than anything from actual play shows/podcasts. RC is Reforged Campaign, where I play Saube, and FM is Frostmaiden, where I play Sparks.

1) RC - Meeting Mahety, Saube’s girlfriend. We met her way back in session 12 and we are now up to like session 73. Saube saw her and was immediately big heart eyes at her but also felt a bit awkward and shy. So, being a game a dice, I decided to roll. 10 or higher, Saube would talk to her, 9 or lower, she’d stay put. I rolled a 17, 17 is now a lucky number for me. I love Mahety and I’d die for her. 

2) FM - This was an insane fight that should not have been so crazy, but in a fairly early session, my group went up against an angry druid and her awakened animals. So much batshit stuff happened in that fight, and we unfortunately lost our bread loving bard (RIP Agneyis), but one of my favorite combat turns happened in this fight. Our artificer, Omaren, has a robe of useful items and one of the patches on it creates a large pit. Thinking quickly, Omaren tore off the patch, slid it under one of the dire wolves we were fighting and created a looney tunes style pit under it, allowing us to take it out easily via pot shots. Such a clutch move and such a funny visual, especially because the dire wolf kept failing the checks to get out of the pit.  

3) RC - Saube’s Zebrith (I will never remember how this actually spelled RIP). So, for context, Saube ended up with a death curse (long story) that mechanically meant they had disadvantage on any death saving throws. Scary as hell, need to get that fixed! So, Saube and their party had to be smuggled into another country to talk with some religious leaders of a goddess known as The First, the goddess of death. They were told that Saube would have to go through the aforementioned ritual, which included her soul leaving her body for a short period of time. During this ritual, her friends had to call back to her, to say things that would bring her back to her body and I still cry thinking about that game. That ritual was not only important for Saube bodily, but spiritually as well. After that ritual, Saube officially became a cleric of The First! 

4) A real sappy one, RC - Saube meeting all of her friends. Anyone who follows along with the rantings on my blog probably knows how important this game is to me. I met this random group of strangers on tumblr and formed a D&D party with them and now, a year and a half later, I honestly think it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I know that sounds silly and dramatic but not only has this game brought me so much joy and comfort, but I also gained a group of really amazing friends who have been nothing but amazing since day one. As much as Saube knows she can depend on SICL, I know I can depend on my group of weirdos lol. We both love our friends very much and even though we’ve all been through some crazy shit, we wouldn’t change it for the world.    

5) RC - Just playing Saube in general. I really didn’t intend for it to be this way, but Saube is very much a reflection of myself. She is the first long term character I have ever played and so much of me is in her. I try not to treat D&D like therapy, because that’s unfair to my DM and fellow party members, but playing Saube has allowed me to work through some of my own problems, especially social anxiety, in a lot safer of an environment. It isn’t so much that I’m asking this game to help me fix my life, but playing out these scenarios that, in the real world, would make me anxious or make me freak out, I can stop, take a moment to breathe and work out these issues in a way that makes sense to me. Playing her has led me to understanding myself a bit better, as well, and that’s truly such a wonderfully unexpected gift from this whole experience. 

6) Lastly, a silly one: RC - Getting a crit 6. The last session of this game got real interesting. Saube’s party ended up in the ethereal plane and magic got real fucky there. So, any time any of us tried to cast a spell, we’d roll a d20, not look at the result, and then try to guess what number rolled. The closer to the number, the better the result. A few times, a few people managed to get within like 3 or 4 of their roll, but oh the power I felt when I rolled a 6 (on Saube’s die!) and guessed it correctly! So, not only did the spell (Bless) work, but it worked super well. So instead of getting +1d4 to attack rolls and saving throws, Saube and two other party members got +2d4 to attacks, saving throws and skill checks. So powerful I broke the rules of D&D lmao. 

[snarkymonkeyprime]

I apparently started a destiel!labyrinth!au a million years ago?  And it’s not terrible?

Also, I don’t know what a Bowman Tree is but I’m intrigued by my thought process regarding it.  

Also, I made a note of who’s who:

Sarah – Dean Winchester

Toby – Sam Winchester

Goblin King – Lucifer

Hoggle – Castiel

Inch-Worm – Balthazar

Ludo – Benny Lafitte

The Dueling Guards – Bobby Singer and Crowley

Sir Didimus – Gabriel

Everyone’s so horrendously in character that I can’t stop snickering.

     The creature stared at Dean, blue eyes wide.  “I understand now, why the Bowman took hold of you.  You’re the human,” he stated, voice deeper than Dean had expected.

     Still holding his plank, Dean nodded sharply.  “Yeah?  So?”  He inched forward, muscles tight with strain.  The thing might have pulled him out of that bloodthirsty tree but even in the short time he’d been in Lucifer’s playland, he knew he couldn’t trust it.  If he could get close enough, he could stab it and run.  Probably.  God, he hoped its skin wasn’t made from iron or something equally annoying.

     “You one of Lucifer’s dicks?”

     The winged man across from him tilted his head like a bird, narrowing his eyes a bit as he did.  “Dicks?  Lucifer has only one penis.  And it isn’t anthropomorphic.”

     Startled by the blunt answer, Dean almost dropped his makeshift weapon.  “Uh, no shit Sherlock,” he muttered, frowning. 

     “My name is Castiel, not Sherlock,” he replied bowing.  The black wings at his back flared out gracefully before tucking in once more.  “I apologize for the lack of introduction.  My brothers and sisters were most curious of news regarding humans.”  He smiled, clearly trying to appease Dean.  “We don’t often see your kind here.”

     Dean glanced around, still not lowering the wood in his hand.  “Yeah, I figured that part out when the tree tried to eat me.”

     Castiel approached him again but stopped as soon as Dean swung the stick toward him.  “Apologies,” he murmured, holding up his hands.  “I mean you no harm.  You must understand that this world feeds off the energies of its master.  Currently, that is Lucifer.”  He half turned, pointing in the direction Lucifer himself had indicated after dropping Dean in the middle of this hellhole.  “It is a living creature.  It forms based on the fears and dreams of the creatures around it.” 

     Curious despite himself, Dean half-lowered his weapon.  That … no way.  Christ, no wonder Lucifer had seemed so smug after Dean had agreed to this stupid bullshit.  “He controls it?  So, he tells it what to do?”  Five minutes ago, he’d never have asked such a question but, five minutes ago, he hadn’t almost been eaten by a tree and rescued by a man with wings.  So … fuck it.

     “Hm, no.  Not entirely.”  He pointed again toward Lucifer’s home.  “In fact, he is as much at its whim as you and I.  However, this land feeds on his presence.  The presence of an ancient angel.  As long as one of that line remains on the throne, it survives.”

     “Hold the fuck up,” he snapped, eyes wide.  “Did you say angel?”

     “Of course.” 

     Dean waited but when Castiel stayed quiet, he lifted his brows as high as he could.  “That’s … what?  How the … what?”  Seriously, his brain was going to explode.  Just … exasperated Dean all over the damn place.

     Castiel’s wings lifted, feathers fanning.  Sunlight gleamed on the blue-black color.  “I am an angel, human.  We are a limited race here but this is our home.”

    Clenching his jaw, fingers gripping his plank, Dean grunted, “Why isn’t God your leader?”

     The angel’s blue eyes were blank.  “God?  Perhaps you mean the one who created us?  Created this place?”  His visage soured for a moment as he looked away.  “Our Father left us here a long time ago.  We have no name for him.  Not one that is translatable.”

     There was sorrow in Castiel’s voice.  And anger.  Dean, strangely, understood that all too well.  “So he just up and ditched you?  Put you in charge and walked?”  Yeah, that sounded pretty damn familiar.

     Castiel nodded.  “In a way.  Lucifer has led us since we woke here.  He is our brother.”  Something in the way he phrased the statement sat wrong with Dean.  Brother wasn’t a term he wanted to use.  But why he held back now was a story better for another time.  The land was important as far as Dean was concerned; not brotherly sniping between giant winged human dicks.

     His mind whirled as he rehashed their conversation.  “Right.  That’s a bunch of shit but … fuck it.  Can’t deal with that right now.”  He took a deep breath, letting it out in a rush.  Jesus, this was tiring.  “So, if what you said is true, empty the chair, the place dies?” 

     And then there was that.  Just when he thought this place couldn’t get any weirder.  Giant life support system hooked to a massive dickhead?  Yeah, that’s a great thing to learn.

     Castiel nodded.  “To simplify it; yes.  It would take ages to die but it would cease to be, eventually.  So we keep one of the ancient blood on the throne at all times.”

     “But I’m going to kill him.  I need to get my brother back.”  He sneered.  “Isn’t it in your best interests to stop me?”

     Again the bird-head tilt.  “I suppose, it would be the right thing.”  He licked his lips.  “But, no?  There are others of ancient blood.  I, myself, am one.  We would find a replacement, if need be.”  Castiel was holding something back given the hesitation in his voice but for now, given he had helped Dean, he was willing to overlook it. 

    Great; history lesson was over.  Dean hefted the wood again.  “Fine.  So … thanks for smiting the tree back there but I’m kind of in a hurry so kindly fuck off.”

     Castiel blinked.  “I … I could help you?”

     “Are you asking or offering?” Dean tossed back.  He really didn’t need a tag-a-long in this endeavor.  He just had to hike it to that dick’s home and get his little brother back.  God only knew what Lucifer was doing to him right now.  The very idea made his shoulders tense and splinters dig into his fingers. 

     Again that broad smile.  “Offering, of course.”

     Yeah … no.  Dean shook his head.  “Nope.  Fine on my own, feathers.  I don’t need one of you bastards spying on me to His Royal Dickness.”

     “The title is highness, actually,” Castiel corrected blithely.  “Though, we don’t heed such terms here.  He’s merely considered our … leader.”  He wrinkled his nose.  “You seem quite obsessed with male anatomy.”

     Dean wanted to be annoyed but it was strangely endearing how literal the birdman was taking him.  Despite the situation, he found himself grinning a bit.  “Uh, it’s a … nevermind.  Cas, I don’t exactly care what you call him.  He has my brother and I’m getting him back.”

     He hadn’t even seen the guy move.  In less than a second, Castiel had gone from being a few feet away to less than a handful of inches.  His eyes were narrowed but it didn’t hide the brilliant blue.  He didn’t seem particularly angry; just confused. 

     “Cas?  Did you forget the rest of my name?  Did the fight with the Bowman Tree make you ill?  If you’ve forgotten, it’s Castiel.”

     “Uh, nickname, Cas.  You know … short.”  He glanced at the plank he still held.  Given the guy’s insane speed, he was fairly certain it wouldn’t be much in the way of weaponry.  With an annoyed sigh, he tossed it, noting that Castiel relaxed when he did.  His black wings fluffed once before settling again.  “It’s easier to remember.”

     “Hm.”  Castiel nodded.  “Very well.  Do you also have a name?”

     “Yeah.  Dean.”  He snorted.  “I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but it kind of isn’t.  Lucifer stole my brother and then told me I have twenty-four hours to make it to his lair to get him back.”  He swallowed, new nightmares of what waited for Sam swarming his head.  “I just … this wasn’t what I wanted,” he muttered.

     “Dean.”  Castiel spoke his name as though cradling a gift.  He smiled again.  “Would you prefer to go by D?  Short, yes?”

 ��   He did laugh then.  “Uh, no.  The short name thing is really only for longer names.  So … like Matthew?  You’d call him Matt.  That kind of thing.”

     Castiel, strangely, seemed disappointed.  “Oh.  I see.”

     “You really have never seen a human before?  Talked to one?”

     “Not myself, no.  I believe some of my brothers and sisters have.  But not for many, many years.”  He stared up into the sky, squinting.  “It is … somewhat remote here.  You have to intend to arrive.”

     Figures.  Dean scratched his head.  “Yeah, got it.”  He looked up to find Castiel watching him intently, the blue eyes tracking slowly along his face and body.  Suddenly uncomfortable, he shifted and pointed.  “So?  Do we go or what?”

     “You’ll allow me to aid you?”

     “Yeah, sure; first sign of trouble?  I take your head off, though.”  With what, he hadn’t figured out just yet.  He still had his dad’s tactical knife in his boot but that wouldn’t do much more than poke a hole in the guy; if he could even be cut.  Shit, this place officially sucked.

     Castiel’s eyebrows lifted a moment before settling again.  “You don’t trust me.  Very well.”  He took a few steps away from Dean and gestured toward the dirt road ahead of them.  “I assure you, I mean no harm.  If, however, you feel my presence is detrimental, you need only tell me and I will leave.”

     Dean considered it.  But then again, he was alone in this freakhole of a place.  Knew nothing about it.  Hell, the giant slimy tree had almost eaten him.  What else waited?  He stared ahead, barely able to make out the shape of Lucifer’s home.  Sammy, I’m so sorry.  I didn’t … this wasn’t what I meant.  Wasn’t what I wanted.  He sighed and began walking.  “Yeah.  Fine.  Just … let’s go, all right?  I need to get to Sam.”

[biillyhargroves]

I need some happiness after some heated family discussions, so can we have fluff please??

I'm sorry to hear that you’ve had a bit of a tough time with your family tonight. Sending you lots and lots of good, positive vibes and I hope this little bit of fluff helps you feel better!! 

grand theft autumn(fic requests open)

Things go missing from Billy’s closet. 

First, it was a hooded sweatshirt from his old high school back in San Diego. Billy had grabbed for it on a chilly night and came away empty handed. He thought it must have gotten lost in the endless cycles of washing Susan always seemed to be doing, and figured it might turn up in a few days. It didn’t. Next, a red button-down shirt disappeared. He dug through his hamper, recalling wearing it not a week before, but again came away with nothing. He volunteered- willingly -to fold laundry in order to find it, but neither shirt turned up in any of the loads Billy sorted. T-shirts started to vanish from his drawers; old ones, worn and bleach-stained, the kinds he normally reserved for the gym. His collection began to deplete one by one, and Billy began to wonder if maybe Susan was simply tossing the rattier, threadbare ones. He started volunteering to do the laundry - willingly - to put a stop to it, but the shirts kept getting lost and Billy couldn’t seem to find them. When his denim jacket went missing, Billy finally confronted Susan. 

“I’m sorry,” she had said, and Billy would tell that she genuinely meant it by the way she blinked at him in utter confusion. “I haven’t touched them. I can keep an eye out for you.” 

Billy had thanked her gruffly. 

He’d kept an eye on Max. She's got a history of pilfering clothes: borrowing a jacket or layering one of Billy’s sweatshirts when it was particularly cold, but none of the missing items showed up on her. Once, he caught her wearing a Metallica tee that had recently gone missing, but Max swore up and down that she only grabbed it from the wash because all of her things were dirty. After a week with none of Billy’s things showing up in Max’s wardrobe, Billy believed her. 

It takes weeks more before Billy finally finds the culprit. 

It is a quiet November evening, and Billy is lying-in Steve Harrington’s bed, flipping through a battered old copy of On the Road. Down the hall, he hears the rush of the shower head come to a sudden stop. Within in minutes, Steve is padding barefoot into the room, still towel-drying his hair. He is wearing a faded Chargers tee. Billy raises a brow.

“California fan?” he asks. Steve glances down at the shirt. His cheeks flush red. He had not realized which one he had grabbed before heading off to shower. He hadn’t realized it had been one of Billy’s.

“Uh,” he stammers. “Yeah? I mean, I, uh- Well, y’know, you’re from-”

A pillow hits Steve square in the face. He stumbles backwards and just-barely catches the pillow before it hits the ground. “Fucking thief,” Billy says, though there is no anger in his voice. His words are actually undercut by a laugh, though Steve is not quite sure he trusts it.

“I, uh-” he starts, and then says, “I just, um-” and he stutters on, no real words forming, and the whole time he does Billy is watching him, a smug grin on his face, and Steve can feel his face getting redder and redder. Eventually, he says, rather lamely, “I’m sorry.” 

“What else did you take?” Billy asks, still more entertained than angry. Steve finds this reaction more embarrassing than any other. What must Billy think of him? Billy rises from the bed and swings open Steve’s closet door. “Oh,” he says, voice still light, and he actually chuckles when he tugs at the sleeve of his own denim jacket, hanging lopsided on one of Steve’s hangers. “I should’ve figured,” he says. 

“I didn’t mean-” Steve starts, and then he shakes his head. “I just- I don’t get to be with you all the time, and I’m not, like...used to that? With other-” other what? there haven’t been other guys, and would Billy get insulted if Steve said girls? relationships sounds almost formal, somewhat heavy, for two teens who haven’t even discussed what they are to one another yet. Steve feels trapped, and he’s scared that this might really scare Billy off, that he’ll decide that Steve is simply too intense and will run off on him never to look back. The silence, he realizes, is stretching on too long, and he clears his throat before continuing. “I just wanted...I don’t know, something of yours? For when you’re not here.”

Billy looks at him with one brow arched. It makes Steve feel like he is under a goddamn microscope, though the relief he feels when Billy returns to rifling through the closet is short-lived. For a while, Billy is quiet, just poking at hangers and tugging on pieces that Steve had pilfered from Billy’s own bedroom: a sweatshirt, some old t-shirts. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, if only to make some kind of noise. Those two words set off a domino effect, and more come tumbling out faster than Steve catch them. “I didn’t mean to take so much stuff. I don’t even think I realized I was taking so much. It’s just that we can’t be, like...open? And, I don’t know. It’s not- I just- I wanted to. Uh, what are you doing?”

Billy has pulled out a shirt, but it is not one of his own. He is not reclaiming some stolen piece that Steve has been hiding for weeks. Instead, he is pulling one of Steve’s sweatshirts off of a broken black hanger. He tugs it over his head, shakes his hair loose from the collar, and when he looks at Steve again that grin of his has faded into something kinder and more sincere. 

“I want to see what you’re getting at,” he says honestly. 

“You want to...” Steve trails off, the pieces fitting together slowly in his head. 

“I mean, you’ve clearly been taking my stuff for weeks. Do you, like-”

“I don’t really wear it around,” Steve admits. “I, uh...I’ve slept in your t-shirts.” At this, Billy’s brow arches once more, and Steve feels that hot flush creep back up his neck. “They...they smell like you. Uh, I mean, like- like your cologne, I guess? I don’t know. I like it.” Billy’s smile grows, and Steve thinks that it is not a mocking sort of smile. 

“That’s cute,” Billy says.

“Cute?” Steve repeats.

“Yeah,” Billy says. “It’s cute.”

“I just-” Steve says, and Billy laughs. “Relax, Harrington,” he says. He returns to his spot on the bed and pats the empty space next to him. The hem of Steve’s sweatshirt rises as Billy stretches one arm up to support his head. He takes up his book again, lounging there, on Steve’s bed, in Steve’s freshman Hawkins High sweatshirt. Steve hesitates.

“You’re not mad?” he asks. Billy peeks him over the top of his book.

“No,” he says plainly. “I’m just glad I know where all my shit’s been going.”

“I really didn’t meant to take so much,” Steve says again. 

“Seriously,” Billy says. “Relax.”

This time, Steve listens. He drops his towel on the floor and takes up the spot beside Billy. Billy opens his free arm and Steve comes to rest against, his head landing on Billy’s chest, Billy’s arm closing around his back. They are quiet again, Billy thumbing through Kerouac, Steve lying beside him. 

“You’re really not mad?” Steve asks again, and Billy closes his book. 

“I’m really not,” he insists. “I really think it’s fucking cute. Hell, I’ll sleep in this damn thing tonight, see if it’s worth snatching some more shit from your closet.”

“I can’t tell if that’s-”

“-it’s not sarcastic,” Billy says. “I mean, you can definitely, like, ask before you take my shit. Max would probably appreciate it.”

“Max?” Steve asks, confused.

“She was wearing my shirt,” Billy explains. “I thought she was the one taking my stuff.”

“Oh,” Steve says, and he makes a mental note to apologize to Max. 

“And I am going to take the jacket back,” Billy says. “It’s getting fucking cold.”

“That’s fair,” Steve agrees. “Unless-” he starts, and then stops himself, but he has already piqued Billy’s interest. 

“Unless?” Billy asks.

“You can take one of mine,” Steve offers. Billy thinks about this. He thinks about for so long that the silence makes Steve wonder if he has said something unbearably stupid. He rests his chin on Billy’s chest so that he can look up at him, trying to gauge Billy’s thoughts, but he doesn’t get far before Billy kisses him- briefly, but long enough to send Steve’s thoughts in a fluttering whirl. He blinks when they part, and Billy’s smug little grin is back in place.

“Okay,” he agrees.

“Okay?” Steve asks. “I mean, I guess you’d have to wear it out, so if you don’t want to-”

“The blue one,” Billy tells him. “I’ll take that.”

Steve’s brow creases. He wears his blue jacket quite often- often enough for it to be known, often enough for friends to know that it is, in fact, his. If Billy wore it, this would mean...

Steve doesn’t quite believe it.  “Are you sure?” he asks. 

“Why not?” Billy says, nonchalant. Steve cannot think of an answer. His heart skips a beat, maybe even two. Is this some kind of crossing a metaphorical threshold? It is a step in a new direction? Is it an official stamp on their relationship? He thinks that the answers are all yes, and as he rests his head back against Billy’s chest he finds that, for all of Billy’s effortless nonchalance, his heart is beating fast, too. Steve wraps his arms around Billy’s middle. He squeezes, and his heart jumps when Billy squeezes him back. 

[overanalyzingelswordiswhatido]

Master Road story was a fuckin trip

I'm on mobile so I cant do a read more but there are spoilers in this so... Read at your own risk I guess???

--

Gaia is pure and such a GOOD DAD. Laby is too pure for this world and always will be. I will personally physically fight anyone who is mean to me daughter. I'm glad that she got to learn that it's better to talk about her feelings than to not do so just to avoid a fight tbh cuz otherwise that would've been really sad. Also, I really do love Ara and Eun's relationship. Just the way Eun calls Ara an "overly righteous child" even while sounding soft and appreciative??? I love it.

Rosso is an angry boy. He has every right to be though after everything he's been through good lord. Also, I really liked Elesis's reasoning for not wanting him to go into the Demon Realm. I also did kind of like the fact that he and Lu didn't get along??? Like, she was really rude to him and he was rude back and then she tried to push all the blame onto him and thats fucked up but I feel like it would've really jarring for them to get along. Idk it just seemed natural for them to "get along" the way that they did. Also Ciel being "lightly" sassy is everything I needed in life.

I'm very curious about the elf Lincy says she saw. My first thought was Lua but I'm not 100% on that. It's quite nice to finally get an explanation for what happened to Rena back in Feita too because that was fuckin weird. If I remember correctly she mentioned someone having beautiful eyes or something..?? Idk but it was weird. Ventus walking back in the front door because he forgot he snuck Rena out was honestly so damn funny. Rose's part was also very nice. It was nice to see her get some spotlight tbh. I have a soft spot for her not gonna lie (it started since shes my younger sibling's main but I did come to really like her). I noticed in the comments of Rose's videos that people were confused as to why she was so calm, but I wasnt really. She did mention to Zero that she's known for a while. And considering how much time she's likely had to think about, she's likely accepted that there's very little she can do about it in her current situation. So she focuses on what's in front of her right now. She's a soldier. She has to focus on the things in front of her before she can worry about the things that aren't and she's trained to do exactly that. So I didn't find it particularly weird for her to be calm in that situation.

CHUNG HURT ME. I was honestly just shot in the heart when Chung said looking for his father was him being greedy. That whole thing sucked. Aisha was super sweet to him though and that was amazing to see. Aisha was so confident too. That was really nice to see. I'm curious about the Landar family secrets now. Also the Denif in the seal didn't have to get that fuckin deep. Like holy shit. Also, Ciel comparing Chung to a sad puppy in the rain was so cute. Ciel wasn't wrong but at least Chung has cheered up some now.

I didn't think I could hate Adrian more than I already do but mY GOD. He makes me want to throw up. I hate him so much. I'm super pissed. The stories he told Add and Eve were WAY too different too. Ngl I apologized to Eve out loud because her "father" is a disappointment. I am honestly worried about what Adrian's going to do with the data he collected on Add... I just. That whole part made my skin crawl. I hated it. It was super nice to see Add drag him through the dust and for Eve to tell him off though. Also, I have never been more proud of either of them in my entire life. They've both grown so much. Hearing Add talk to his mom was so sad and yet so nice at the same time. And when Eve talked about Elsword, Aisha, Rena, and Raven, it was honestly amazing. AND HERBAON IS FRIENDS WITH NONO I'm so glad. Nono isn't alone anymore and Herbaon has A FRIEND. Also, Eve is such a good big sister to Herbaon and you cannot change my mind. Tbh I feel like if Raven hadn't said "see you soon" Add could very well have made a very different choice. Raven is so good.

Speaking of Raven... RAVEN IS DYING???????????????????? I AM NOT OKAY??? I mean I cant say I'm surprised tbh but OUCH. And he knew this whole time too. Like damn. I highly doubt they'll actually kill off a playable character so I'm honestly hoping it'll result in some Raven and Eve bonding since she's realistically the only one that could help him with the situation he's in. I'm really hoping we get updates on Owen too since Elesis mentioned Velder nobles and then Raven started to ask. And typically something like that is used as foreshadowing and I would love some sweet Raven angst. It'll hurt but it'll be great. Also, Elsword not realizing his friends are his power was very fitting and honestly funny to me. I officially have a LOT of questions about Elsword. Though it's nice to know that he is in fact Rubenian. I haven't had enough time to mull everything over so rn I have a lot of questions and no answers. Also AIN HAS ANXIETY MY SON. Honestly, anxiety like that isn't anything I'd wish on most people but it makes a lot of sense for Ain to have it and I'm glad he got to know that nothing was wrong with him and that fearing change was completely normal. Hernia was so sweet and good in Ain's story. I especially liked when she mentioned that she wasn't a picky eater. Like it seems like such a small insignificant thing, but it pulled Ain out of his thoughts and his own head, which really did keep him from spiralling further. And I loved it.

All in all, the amount of character development and new information we got was good. Raven and Gaia both get dad of the year rewards because they're just such good dads (you WILL have to pry Eldad Raven from my cold dead hands). I kinda hope Adrian dies at some point because he's literally so awful but at the same time I don't want my Nasod children to be sad and unfortunately Adrian dying would make them sad. Anyway I'm proud of all of the El Search Party and the growing they've done. Still worried about some of them (*cough* Raven *cough*) but I was glad to see all of their individual stories touched on. I'll go more in depth on my thoughts of certain parts in other posts soon. This was mostly just a collection of my overall thoughts and like... initial impressions.

[professordrarry]

Prompt: there’s more to a seeker than seeking

I freaking LOVED this prompt. Can I possibly use the sentence again sometime? When I’m in a less…silly mood? For now I hope you enjoy this random little minute of Draco being Draco. 

Lucius was very soon going to cause Harry to become defensive. They’d been standing on Harry’s lawn for approximately twenty-five minutes, in an utter stalemate, and Harry’s patience was long since gone.

“I fail to see how that is the point,” Lucius said for the umpteenth time.

“Well, aren’t you lucky that I’m not dating you!” Harry replied, edged tone finally unleashing itself over the continual berating. 

Lucius’ eyebrow lifted in a way that was nothing at all like his son’s; he had none of the warmth and humour that came from Narcissa. Instead of being sexy and mysterious, or wry and mocking, Lucius’ eyebrow attempted to judge your soul from where it stood and always found you wanting.

“I will remind you,” he said cooly, “That right now, Mr Potter, you are dating no one.”

Harry took a deep breath. They’d been over this.

“I am very much aware of that, Malfoy,” he growled. “And that will remain the case until Draco apologises.”

“Then you’ve lost him,” Lucius sighed.

“And why do you care!” Harry shouted, throwing his hands into the quickly darkening sky and begging anyone, everyone, for a bloody answer. “Last I checked, you weren’t exactly a fan of Draco dating a man.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lucius clipped, the ice in his voice chilling Harry even though the night was warm. “I do not care that my son is gay. I rather more think that my issue is with who he has chosen to…bed.”

There was so much malice in his tone now that Harry, against his will, burst out laughing; Lucius really had not adapted well to the fact that all his little rancourous vocal tricks held absolutely no power now.

“If that were true,” Harry shot back, “you would not be standing here, outside my house at eight in the evening, refusing to leave.”

They squared off again, neither willing to bend or readjust or back down. Finally, Lucius took a deep breath and sighed, scrubbing his forehead.

“Potter. Draco, as you know, is…well, not proud. That’s not the right word. I would say more…obstinate than anything. Always has been. Cannot admit his own failings. It has been a problem since his childhood.”

“In case you’ve not realised it, that little trait definitely comes from your bloodline, Lucius.”

The faintest wisp of a smile crossed Malfoy’s face. “I know it,” he said, a tinge of pride behind the words. “Nonetheless, he sometimes forgets to be obstinate with a cause. As is the case now.”

“Yes, well. I’ve been known to be a bit obstinate as well.”

“Indeed,” Lucius said with that same small smile. “But I’d think a star Quidditch player such as yourself would be better at playing the game.”

Harry looked at him angrily. He had no idea what Malfoy was on about and he did not like that feeling.

“What, pray tell, does one do once they are holding the golden snitch?” He waited for a reply and finally, Harry sighed in defeat and shrugged.

“One holds onto it for dear life, until the Officiant or Score Keeper has seen it and the game is won.”

Harry sighed again, at the point of really just wanting this conversation over. “I don’t…what are you on about. Get to the point.”

“The point, young man,” Lucius simpered, “is that there is more to being a Seeker than seeking. You hold onto it until the bitter end, in order to gain the prize.”

Harry stared at him. He let the thought process through his mind. “Get off my property,” he spat.

Lucius smiled, bowed a shallow, petulant bow and walked away, his disgusting walking stick in hand.

“I really hate when that man is right,” he said to himself as he went into the flat.

The next morning was sunny and way too hot. He hated it, to be honest. He thought absently that at least it was bright enough to keep the nargles away and then laughed. Luna was on his mind again. He was immediately sad because he knew Luna would be furious with him for letting this fight go on for so long. He took a deep breath and lifted the knocker in front of him.

Draco scowled when he opened the door. “What are you doing here?” he sneered. “You made it clear the last time we spoke. I’m not going to apologize, so we’re through.”

Harry took a deep breath and didn’t rise to the occasion. “We’re going to have lunch. Come on.”

Draco startled, just as Harry had known he would. He hated not having the upper hand, not knowing what cards to play.

“I’m…I’m not dressed to…I have plans.”

“You look fine, you know you don’t have any other plans, and I’m not asking,” Harry snapped. “Let’s go.”

He forced himself to walk away before he let Draco rile him up. That would solve absolutely nothing.

They walked side by side down the high street from Draco’s flat to the tiny brasserie that was at the end of the lane. It was small and overpriced, but it was within a short walk and was also on the ‘Draco approved’ list, so Harry had decided it would do. Inside, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all waited, a pint in front of each of them. Like a scene from a particularly predictable sitcom, they were all laughing when Harry and Draco entered, and they all abruptly stopped when they saw Draco. Draco inhaled sharply and spun to glare at Harry.

“I can’t believe you,” he whispered viciously.

“Yeah, well, I’ve spent the last two weeks not exactly believing you, so I think it makes us even don’t you? Let’s go, I’m starving.”

He walked to the table, ignoring the hesitant step Draco took toward the door. He couldn’t do anything else. Draco had to make a choice now. Harry saw the moment he made up his mind. The breath where he decided to stay. He sat gingerly at the table. At first, everyone ignored him. He sat and listened to the conversations. And yet.

When Ginny went up to get everyone another round, she brought him a pint as well and Harry slid it to him without looking at him. When their food arrived, Harry silently placed his gherkin on Draco’s plate and Draco’s tomato ended up beside Harry’s burger. They ate, discussing nothing except innocuous subjects. Finally, the plates were cleared away and the beer was gone and Hermione cleared her throat.

“Guess we can decide on pudding,” she muttered, taking the slim menu from its little stand. “I hear the tart sucre here is—”

“Look, I owe all three of you an apology,” Draco interrupted, dragging all their eyes to him at once.

Whatever he had been planning on saying fled from his mouth. Harry watched it happen; he watched about seventeen emotions scroll through his deeply reddening cheeks.

“Draco’s not so good at apologies, as you all know,” Harry murmured, taking pity on him. “It’s been made very clear, however, that—”

“Harry,” Ginny said soothingly. “We already told you, we don’t care. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Draco whispered.

They all looked back at him again. He cleared his throat.

“It’s not fine. You’re all…you’re family and I forget, sometimes, that you all went through it all together. But. I forget because Harry is my family. So I get…defensive. And angry. And I say things. Things I don’t really mean. And I…I crossed a line.”

“So basically,” Ron said with a smirk, “you were a Slytherin?”

The three of them laughed and Harry smiled down at the table.

“W-what?” Draco said, brow furrowing in his confusion.

“We aren’t actually angry, Draco,” Hermione said patiently. “I mean, it was shitty or whatever, but you’ve said worse. And done worse. We’ve gotten over that. Or at least, we’ve learned to make our peace with the past?” Hermione shook her head and gestured at Harry. “He said we had to come.”

Draco looked murderous for a fraction of a second, then looked a little more sheepishly at Harry, who now sat with his arms folded and challenge on his face. 

“You were an ass. Last time you did that, I told you that if you didn’t start apologising when you’d fucked up, this was over. I meant it.”

“We haven’t spoken. For two. Weeks. TWO WEEKS, Harry James Potter! We are engaged. I was pretty sure you were never going to see me again! I…I sent my father to try and talk to you!”

“I knew it was you,” Harry laughed with a smirk. “He was very irritating. Never do that again.”

“Yeah, okay…but the point is…the point is—”

“The point is what, Draco?” Harry challenged.

He opened his mouth as though he was going to protest more, but instead, he stood up and placed his hands flat on the table, facing them all simultaneously. “Ahem,” he began.

“Ginny. I’m sorry I told you I would curse your first born if you didn’t let me buy Pacific Avenue.” He turned slightly to the other side of the table.

“Ron. I’m sorry I cursed all your hotels so that they moved constantly to the little green squares.” He froze and looked at Harry sadly.

“And?” Harry pressed.

He sighed one more time. “And, Hermione…I’m sorry that I slowly stole all your $100 money things, spiked your tea with rum so you wouldn’t notice, and then called you a Ministry Sell Out when you won anyway,” he said all in one breath.

All four of the other people at the table burst out laughing.

“You really need to not let me play Muggle board games with you anymore,” Draco said miserably. “Even if they are the American versions you’ve borrowed from the library!”

“Agreed,” said Harry with a nod. “Though, just for the record, we only ended up not talking for two weeks because you’re a stubborn ass who refuses to a) give up his flat before we’re married and b) won’t apologise when you fuck up, even when things are stupid.”

“Yes, understood,” Draco mumbled. “What made you come over?”

“Well,” Harry said slowly. “There’s more to seeking than being a Seeker…or…something.”

They all looked at him for clarification; Harry just shrugged and stood to order a treacle tart.

[purplesurveys]

907

Are you one of those lucky people to own a walk-in closet? lol lucky people. No I don’t have one of those. Is there a random object you own that has a huge personal significance? Well it’s more significant today because we had our virtual graduation this morning... so I’ll go with my graduation sash. Ever since I started university I’ve always wanted to wear my own sash in a physical ceremony so again, it sucks that our batch got affected by the pandemic. Do you use Google? For just about everything, yeah. Would you like to go swimming right now? That would be soooooo so nice. I’ve been going through old vacation photos and I really miss the beach. Can you play electric guitar? Nope.

Do you have an HDTV? My parents do. When was the last time you drank something through a straw? Around a month ago when my dad bought milk teas for me and my sister. Have you ever tried to teach yourself a different language? I didn’t teach myself per se, but I have tried my hand learning Spanish on Duolingo several times. It always comes in phases – I get passionate about learning and use the app for weeks, then it kinda burns out after a while. Right now I haven’t used it since I got sick in May. How long was your last phone call? A little longer than an hour, I think. It was pure silence though; we just wanted to hear each other’s surroundings. Do you need to repaint your nails? No, I never get it painted. Has there ever been a horoscope that came true for you? Psh. Are you a fan of industrial metal? Holy shit I feel so stupid right now. I thought this was referring to a literal kind of metal and I thought, that is such an odd thing to be a fan of...Google quickly taught me that it is in fact NOT a material for building infrastructure jdsskfjskf. Anyway, no I am not a fan. Are you one of those people who chew two pieces of gum, not one? Yeah, occasionally. I don’t like how one piece loses flavor all too quickly so I go ahead and pop two in. Do you have a wall calendar? Not since 2008. We only had a wall calendar in our old house; when we moved here we started to rely on digital clocks and our phones to tell the time. Have you ever taken the pictures from a calendar and used them as posters? I haven’t had a calendar like that, so no. I’ve done this with magazines though. Can you handle the cold? Hahaha no, I can’t. I was already in so much pain in 20ºC weather in Sagada, and I fared much worse in 12ºC Japan weather. I would still pick living in a colder climate in a heartbeat over a tropical one, though. Have you ever been to Canada? Nope.  Do you believe in superstitions? Just one superstition involving my university that doubles as an inside joke, so it’s not like I take it 100% seriously. It’s a generations-old joke that’s impossible to ignore if you’re a student, so I just jumped in. When was the last time you took a taxi somewhere? It was from the airport to back home, but I forgot where we landed from. Bohol I think? Palawan? I don’t even know anymore. It was so inconvenient I begged my dad that we stop using taxis as transportation for our future trips. Would you ever join the army, airforce or navy? No. How old is the person you last kissed? 22. Is there a friend that you can always rely on to get you out of a jam? I don’t think so. When it comes down to it they all have their own different things going on and I can’t just call them whenever and expect them to come to me, and that’s okay. Generally though, I think my most reliable friends are probably Andrew and Angela. What was the most embarassing thing you've had to buy? I’ve never felt embarrassed by anything I had to buy, but it can get a little uncomfortable trying to buy napkins when my dress or pants are already soaked. I get over it quickly though, since menstruations are normal lol. Have you ever tried to balance the light switch between off and on? When I was a kid. I haven’t tried it in a while. Do you believe in ghosts / supernatural occurences? They’re fun to think about, sure, and I do enjoy watching the supernatural episodes of Buzzfeed Unsolved where they go ghost-hunting. I like to think that they somehow exist, but I still also very much maintain my skepticism at all times. Have you ever mistaken a person's gender? I’ve used the wrong pronouns accidentally but I always correct myself and apologize once I’ve noticed my blunder. What was the most expensive thing you've broken? My old iPhones. I’ve also sported a few dents on my car, but I wouldn’t say I broke the car. Has anyone texted you yet today? Not text, but online chat. We had our virtual graduation this morning so my inbox was swamped with congratulatory messages and such. Did you stay calm during the whole swine flu scare? I did, but I mean I was 11 and had no clue how serious it was supposed to be. I remember cheering when they suspended classes for a week because of a local swine flu case, so yep – still ignorant back then. Is there a light on in the room you're currently in? There is, but it isn’t turned on. Are your feet touching the floor? Nope, they’re on the bed. Have you ever been in a car accident? Mild ones, nothing too life-threatening. Do you usually make back-up plans? Yeah man I’m so anxious I always have at least plans A-C lined up in my head and ready to go whenever necessary. Can you focus well in high-stress situations? Usually. Without the aid of mascara, do you have long eyelashes? I do. I get compliments on it all the time too. I didn’t realize it was apparently a nice feature to have until more and more people pointed it out haha. Is there a kind of music you listen to that helps you release your anger? Yeah I have a playlist that’s lined up with all of my favorite loud, angry punk rock music specifically for when I’m pissed off. Are you one of those people who keep their feelings bottled up? I can, particularly whenever I feel like it’s not worth it to blow up. Is one of your friends extremely odd but you love them regardless? Not really. Aya’s pretty weird but I wouldn’t call her extremely odd. Is there anyone you dread going into public with? My mom when she’s mad. Are you a victim of writing run-on sentences? For the most part, I wouldn’t say so. If I write a run-on sentence it’s almost always in an informal setting where I’m more loose with punctuation, like if I’m chatting on IM or writing an answer on here. Still, I try to avoid them and I never do it in a formal situation. Graffiti: an art or an act of vandalism? They can be both. Some people who genuinely just want to fuck around vandalize, like how I’ve seen “Mark <3 Erica” in spray paint on public walls or some similar shit lol. But a lot of graffiti are art as well; many have important messages or symbolisms to say. Do you buy things online? I’ve done it a few times. Not regularly. I like being able to see and touch something before buying it. Are you easily frightened? I definitely am but at the same time I’m really into horror movies and serial killers and a ghost-hunting series? Hahaha it’s weird. I guess I enjoy the thrill that comes with having those interests. Do you have a favorite model? Over the years I’ve loved Elizabeth Jane Bishop, Kiko Mizuhara, Taylor Marie Hill, Gigi Hadid, Bella Hadid, and (controversial pick!) Kendall Jenner. Have you ever watched Titanic? So many times. Honestly, one of my favorites. What's your current facebook display picture of? It’s my official graduation photo wearing my graduation sash! :) I finally changed it last Friday after I got the email saying I’m on the list of graduates. How about your IM display picture? My main IM is my Messenger, which also uses my Facebook photo. Is there anyone whose hair you envy? Gabie’s for one. Hers is really smooth and silky and wavy. Would you act in a movie if it offered a role? If I was going to be a mostly unseen extra in a blockbuster film and still be paid like $600 for it, then I don’t see why I wouldn’t take it. Does speaking in front of people make you nervous? Only if there’s going to be an unscripted aspect to it that’ll make me have to come up with answers on the spot, like miting de avances or thesis defense. If I have a script or even just a general gist of what I want to say, I have no problem improvising and speaking in front of a crowd. Can you read in a moving vehicle or does it make you sick? It makes me sick but it hasn’t stopped me before. Have you ever dated someone who was extremely shy? I’m the extremely shy person... Or have you dated someone who took things too fast? I felt that way with Gab at first when she wanted to have sex like two months after we started dating, though I was scared mainly because it was going to be my first time and I wanted to make sure I was comfortable. Now that I’m a little older, two months seems like a healthy amount of time. Does the idea of driving 220 mph sound exciting to you? Sounds terrifying. It could be fun, but only if we’re in the middle of nowhere where there’s loads of space to go that fast and no chance of crashing. Everyone has a weakness, what's yours? Food. Do you or anyone you know have an account on Deviantart? I had classmates in high school who had accounts but I’m not sure if they still have it, or if Deviantart is even still as active as I knew it to be. Thoughts on the Dunkin Donut commercial that says "America runs on Dunkin'"?  It’s a creative slogan but if I was American I wouldn’t want a doughnut place claiming to represent my country. It cute though. Do you bother buying movies on DVD anymore or do you just download them? I watch them on Netflix, which is still technically like buying them since we pay for the subscription anyway. Do you listen to Daughtry? No. Do you get your eyebrows waxed? I don’t. Waxing looks so painful to me. How do you take your coffee? Lots of creamer or milk, a little sugar. I like trying out different coffees, but when I’m simply relaxing I do want my coffee as least bitter as possible.  If you have a dog, what breed is it? I have an aspin mix, though we never figured out what Kimi’s other half is. And I also have a beagle. Have you found someone who makes you unconditionally happy? I don’t know if 'unconditionally’ is possible but yes, I do have people who make me very happy. Do you have a friend who always seems to be dying their hair? Not anymore. Jo used to dye her hair like every month though and she must have been able to go through the entire rainbow. She looked sooo good in each of the colors. Would you swap names with a friend? I love all their names but I don’t see why that would be necessary. Do you plan on going to university? I did. I graduated today. Guys who wear muscle shirts, yes or no? Idk man, they can wear whatever they want. Are you a fan of Carrie Underwood? No. I liked some of her singles when I was younger, but I’m not a fan in that I have her albums and know her lesser-known songs. Do you make playlists on iTunes? I used to, when I still used iTunes. I make playlists on Spotify now. Have you ever forgotten someone's birthday? I don’t think so. Are you scared of being left behind? Yessir. I’m super competitive, so I hate the feeling. Do you remember your last dream? No. I’m really bad at remembering them unless they’re nightmares or insanely strange. I do know that I dreamt while we were watching mass earlier on the television though, hahaha. Do you know someone who is an obsessed Star Wars fan? So many people in my circle are. Is politics something you don't care about? No. If there’s anything I give tons of fucks about, it’s that. What's a movie/tvshow/book/series that is way overrated? I’ll go with the first things I thought of...in that order: To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before; Stranger Things (it’s good, but not as good as people hyped it to be); I don’t really read anymore; and what do you mean by series? Just realized I only gave 2 out of 4 answers lol oh well. Do you think Barbie presents an unhealthy image to young girls? I don’t like how its physical features are still unrealistic; but I appreciate their attempts at diversity. I can’t say it was upsetting seeing a Filipino-themed Barbie :) Is there a pet that you desperately want? All I ever wanted were dogs, and now I’ve got two of them. Would you ever get your bellybutton pierced? Nope. Are you musically talented? Hahahahaha Have you ever shot a gun? Not a real one, so no. Athenna’s dad had this practice gun he used for target practice (duh) and I messed with that a few times. Do you have a friend that always changes their mind last second? That’s Gabie. She’s lucky she’s my girlfriend and that I love her, because it’s actually a big pet peeve of mine. Are you not afraid to voice your opinion? Yup. The only time I don’t say it out loud is if it’s unnecessary and if it’s going to be simply disrespectful. An example would be when my uncle offered to make me a carrot cake for my grad gift, and I just said yes because it was already generous enough for him to offer me a free cake when he runs a food business. In reality it’s not my favorite cake at all; it wouldn’t even be in my top 20. Are you one of those people who are always pushing their limits? Yes, I definitely overwork myself to the point of exhaustion and burnout. But I honestly prefer doing things and being busy than sitting around. Is there a word that you will always find humorous? Bubbling. Because Drake and Josh.

Do you frown upon immature people? Typically. Have you ever slipped on ice and hurt yourself? This may have happened to me once or twice when I was still regularly visiting the ice skating rink at the mall. People were always super nice and helped me get up, though. Do you try to have an intimidating impression? I don’t try. Apparently it’s naturally the vibe I give off. Living in the big city or chilling in the country? BIG CITY. Always the big city. I’ve gone to the country/province so many times; I already know what it’s like there. I’ll always prefer a noisy city. No one seems to obey the legal drinking age, do they? Hahahaha a lot seem not to. I know so many high school kids who’ve had a drink before turning 18. Do you like your country's flag? Sure. I like that we can switch up the colors depending on if we’re at war or not. Have you ever made a totally amazing snow fort? I’ve never even seen snow before. Do you use Bounty Paper Towels? No. Are you the one usually behind the camera or the one in the picture? BEHIND If you get married, will you have a traditional wedding? Traditional, yes. Religious, no. Do you feel you’re slowly losing one of your friends? No. But now that I’m no longer in school, I really hope I’ll continue to be friends with my orgmates. I’ll certainly keep in touch as much as I can. If you draw, what's one thing you always have trouble with? Everything about it. Is there someone you know moving away any time soon? No. I do know my friend’s sister had already moved and started her new job in California, but when the pandemic started she had to go back here. This virus is just ruining so many great things for everyone, man... Allergic to anything? Nope. How many cars have you owned? Zero. I drive one; can’t say I own it because my parents bought it. What are you going to do after this? Maybe take another survey.

[keichanz]

***PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG***

I knew it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. Considering how much the owner hates me and likes the play the poor, pitiful victim, I’m not at all surprised one of his little fans took it upon himself to “warn” the community about me. 

The fools really should have made the posts private just in case I happened to stumble upon them. But then again, I never pegged them to be particularly intelligent. So I suppose I have that in my favor.

I’m sure you’re all well aware of the “famous” Official Inuyasha group on Facebook. This was posted to it just a few hours ago. I’m not a part of this group, however somebody on here was kind enough to alert me to this, and they will remain anonymous so they don’t receive any backlash from this post, but I hope they know they have my plentiful gratitude.

I struggled all day on whether or not to make a post about this. But then I decided, y’know what, I have a goddamn right to defend myself against the above bullshit, so fuck it. Here I am, about to address every libelous accusation this Seth person - whom, mind you, I have never talked to before in my life and I have no idea who the hell he is - has just callously tossed out there.

First and foremost, because this accusation really dug deep and because it’s pretty much the foundation of this bullshit, I want to address the so called fact that I attacked Official Inuyasha - I’m going to call him OIY from here on out - because he’s trans. 

False. 

I will say this as many times as I have to--I do not give a flying fuck that he’s trans. I don’t. That literally has nothing at all to do with my opinion of him, and this Seth dude is just grasping at the most obvious reason, or so he thinks, for my “attacks.” I also want to point out that I also don’t give a shit that his fiance is trans. 

I have gay friends. I have lesbian friends. I have trans friends. I have bi friends.

I myself am motherfucking bisexual.

So for this guy that I’ve never even talked to before to sit there and indirectly claim that I am in any way, shape, or form trans- or homophobic? He’s off his goddamn rocker.

I will say it again: 

I. DO. NOT. CARE.

Oh, and the whole “attacking people I don’t like just because”? Also false, but that goes without saying. Or at least I like to think it does. I also don’t give a rat’s ass that he changed his name to Inuyasha. Do I find it strange? Sure. Do I have a problem with it personally? No. 

Concerning me sending my friends to attack people I don’t like--um, no?? God, I would never, ever ask my friends to do that for fear of retaliation against them.  I can say with the utmost confidence that my friends are fiercely protective, very loyal, and they will voluntarily stand up and defend me without me asking them to. They all know I love them to death and I appreciate them all so much. They have my back, and I have theirs. I don’t send them to say anything on my behalf--they do that all on their own, and I sure as hell ain’t gonna stop ‘em. People can argue that I have them fight my battles for me, but I disagree. They are my allies, my reinforcements, my backup when I grow weary. Every battle needs them, no? I hope they know that they are so appreciated, very loved, and they have my undying gratitude. I don’t expect them to defend me either, and they know it. All I ask is that they support me in my time of need, and the fact that they rise up to the occasion without question, defend me, support me and protect me at all costs just goes to show what kind of amazing, wonderful people they are and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. 

Regarding the statement that I attacked Seth himself. As I mentioned before, I have no goddamn clue who this guy is. I didn’t even know he existed before my anon friend notified me, and browsing his profile gleans zero recognition. So where the hell is he pulling this shit from? Oh, and I would love to see these proposed screenshots that are “too detailed to post,” mind you, depicting me attacking him. I will show anyone who asks a screenshot of my messages, both on here and on Facebook if they want proof. And I never delete them either--I have messages from like...2015 or some shit.

The discord chat. Seth has conveniently failed to mention the fact that OIY himself joined that chat, and deliberately went through every single channel and searched my name. He found messages I had sent last year that don’t prove anything other than the fact that I think his “beautiful edits” are bogus, but that’s it. Nothing else. My friends and I discussed it briefly, but we never “talked shit” about him. So once more, he’s pulling false facts out of his ass to make me seem like such a horrible person. 

I’m not even going to touch the “he never steals artwork and gives credit” because I have some strong opinions on that, but would rather not get into it since this post isn’t about that.

“I make fun of his cosplay and looks.” I”m assuming he’s referring to that post of OIY in full cosplay with fake black eyebrows. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t find the actual post anywhere on this site, so I suspect it might have been deleted, but if anyone is truly curious, here’s a screenshot that was attached to the above post. So after viewing that, someone please enlighten me how saying “Thanks, I hate it” is, in fact, making fun of his cosplay and/or looks? Yeah, I haven’t a clue, either. But whatever, go off, I guess. 

“I make up lies and brainwashes everyone into thinking it’s truth.” Well, shit, guys, why didn’t somebody tell me I can brainwash people? Because this sure as hell is news to me. What lies are these, exactly? Any idea? No? Hmmm. Welp, anyway, I can attest that this is also false. If I can magically brainwash people I sure as shit wouldn’t be working a job that barely gets me by. And who do I lie to? My friends already support me and carry the same opinions, so it can’t be them. And I take pains to avoid anything and everything that has to do with OIY just for this exact purpose because it’s a pain in my ass. I don’t like the guy. Big fucking whoop. Who cares. Grow the fuck up and move on, Jesus Christ. So, no, you can bet your ass I’m not spreading around lies to random strangers about something I give zero fucks about. 

There. I think I addressed everything in that atrocity of a paragraph. The comments on that post are less than pleasant - I’ll spare you the details, but most of them included various degrading names and ridiculous statements - and I find myself just...incredulous that these people, who don’t even know me, so readily agree with something that has no basis of fact. It astounds me that they accept this bullshit as truth just because someone says it is without seeing for themselves first. Talk about blind faith. Very misguided/misinformed blind faith. 

It truly does sadden me that people are so quick to judge without getting facts, but that’s the way of the world, isn’t it. 

Moving on, I suppose this post can be considered as an open letter to Seth Whiterun, and any of OIY’s followers that happen to see this. So please, feel free to reblog this all you want. Reblog it once, twice, ten times. I want them to see it. I want to right the wrong that Seth has so callously dealt me and have the chance to defend myself given that he made a post to a group that I am not a part off like a damned coward, knowing there was little chance of me seeing it. 

Well, surprise, Seth Whiterun. I saw it.

I want them to come to me. This directly involves me, no one else. What right does Seth have to say any of that? Absolutely none. 

I am tired of this. How many times do I have to put up with this? This is so mentally exhausting and I just want to be left alone. Again and again I’m having to deal with this complete and utter bullshit because some asshat with a hero complex decides that it’s his job to “warn” the community of this toxic person with, need I remind you, zero evidence in which to prove himself with. Or at least evidence with any credible standing. 

This entire situation is old. Am I dealing with children? Why can’t they just let sleeping dogs lie and put it behind them? I sure as hell have - or at least I’m trying to, but then shit like this happens and I’m dragged right the fuck back into it because of course I’m not going to just sit there and let this guy slander my name. Did he think I was going to remain quiet about this? WRONG. 

Now that I’ve said my piece, I want to implore you my dear followers and friends, please, please, please DO NOT contact Seth Whiterun or Official Inuyasha. I understand if you get angry on my behalf, but please, I don’t want to get you mixed up in this. If Seth has the balls to confront me himself, or one of OIY’s followers, or even the guy himself, then by all means, they are free to come forward and we can discuss like this adults. Otherwise, please don’t go attacking Seth or OIY because that will just affirm to them that I do send my friends after them, and I really don’t want that. 

I think that about covers it. I wanted it to be known that if you happen to hear any of this bullshit, please be aware that it is untrue, and I am more than happy to answer any question directly. Message me. Send an ask. I will clear up any confusion or misinformation. Don’t assume something is true just because you read it somewhere--get the facts from the source first. 

There you have it. Grow a pair, Seth, and confront me yourself.

I’ll be waiting. 

[saint-patrice]

“Tbh I would like to have the 34 *other* Bergy pics on your shortlist, complete with commentary lolol. And then (if you’re still waiting that is) any other Marchy pics with commentary? xD xD” 

here are some more of my favourite marchy pics, complete with my bizarre personal commentary, for anon! the 34 bergy pics can be found here also!

Note: a few people have said they like these posts, so i’m up for taking people’s requests if there’s a particular player they’d like to see! inbox is always open (and anon is on) so just drop me your request and i’ll get working on it :)

okay so this is some absolutely premium cute marchy!! the smile that manages to be completely self-confident yet in no way cocky? the polite little wave as he surveys his audience who, if i recall correctly, were booing him heavily?? oh i do love you mr rat. marchy is fantastic and i have so much respect for the way he deals with his reputation across the league and the excessive amount of shit he gets.he knows what people think of him yet doesn’t seem to let it get to him. i have so much love for him.

KATRINA IS LEGENDARY. before moving on to the part of the image that gave me whiplash when i first saw it, we’re back to talking about brad’s smile. i think i said it in my last post but he really is one of those people who smiles with their whole face - even if you just saw his eyes in this photo you can immediately tell that he’s got that little grin on his face and that’s adorable tbh. now onto the d*lf mug (censored bc i fear the dodgy underground porn blogs these days)… i don’t even know where to start. i feel like he very proudly bought it for himself. and it’s like the only mug he ever wants to drink out of. just my take. i also think the longer hair really suits marchy ngl

ahhh the boys and their dirtbag christmas suits 💛 highlights of this image are the suit jacket that is definitely just one size too small for this absolute man rocket, and the pants with “FRAGILE” plastered all over them - very relatable if not at all festive.

gay rights are stored in the rat!!! i’m glad marchy has been pretty open about his support of LGBT stuff, particularly within hockey. also i feel like some of the stuff he’s said in interviews or social media (esp re: lickgate) manages, even if not intentionally, to be quite diminutive towards implicit homophobia or ‘toxic masculinity’ within hockey. okay maybe that that was poorly expressed but basically he just doesn’t give a shit and appears very open and accepting and i think that’s super nice. this picture also makes for a good reaction image when someone says something dumb

short kings love.jpeg !! a wonderful example of the love that brad shows his teammates on a regular basis, despite his constant chirping. i have no real opinions on torey krug (no h8, i just don’t think i’ve seen that much of him off ice so idk) but him and marchy are quite the duo tbh, i live for their back and forths on twitter - more on that later - and they seem to love each other an awful lot, it’s v cute :^)

that’s my pest™. honestly i think lickgate is one of the best scandals in recent hockey history. when looking for a good image of this is saw an article where some dipshit reporter was outraged about it and was like “how would you feel if someone just came up and liked you?” i mean what if someone just came up and started punching you or hip-checked you into the wall????? hockey is a nasty game a lot of the time, and instead of giving people concussions or broken bones (not that he hasn’t in the past ik…) marchy managed to make opposing teams just as angry, if not moreso, just by licking players. i think it’s fucking hilarious. and most of them took it well in hindsight anyway - i think it was komarov who said he kinda liked it lmaoooooo. peak bradley kevin antics if you  ask me

every pic from the china trip has such a special place in my heart. this is just an all-round adorable photo and brad is looking gorgeous in the sunlight and his backwards cap

brad waving the towel in surrender is just about the funniest thing i’ve ever seen someone do in the penalty box… i can’t believe they gave him a 10 minute misconduct for it, something i think they’d wouldn’t have done if it had have been someone else. at least someone in this league has a goddamn sense of humour. the penalty minutes stat in the corner just makes this even better

brad, once again, showing us how we should deal with people talking shit about us - just get on board with it. i love how much he’s just embraced his massive nose and his height and his general reputation. idk if it’s really deliberate but i think it’s such a good message to send, and it makes for some pretty funny stuff too.

brad single-handedly keeps nhl refs in a job. in my bruins drinking game™ you have to take a shot every time the ref has to physically restrain marchy (2 if it’s because he was going to get revenge or fend for bergy) and you could get fucked off that alone during some games. it was nice to see him not actually get suspended this year, but i will always love that he’s such a physical player and quite the pest on the ice :))

me: *slaps helmet of brad marchand* this bad boy can fit so much personality.

really though, can you believe he’s managed to squeeze more charisma into only 5 feet and 9 inches than 85% of the league combined… very cute picture, and always lovely to see him by bergy’s side on the ice where he belongs

oh my goddddddd how fucking cute is this though!!!! the hat! the dad energy those jeans and the boots give off!!! his face!! his little daughter!!!!! i can’t take it, my heart is going to burst.

(gif via @kureally) this is also just so cute, i need a minute. brad has some very powerful eyebrows and this gif displays them wonderfully. this section of behind the b was also pretty sweet all round, and i agree with pasta that the hair is looking pretty first class

(gif via @murlin09) i am not like into marchy (no tea no shade if u are though), but this gif… whew. i’ll let you come to your own conclusions on this one, gang

i was not lying when i said more on the brad-torey social media antics earlier. there are some truly iconic chirps (the zamboni one is lethal), but this self-roast just kills me every time. i never once thought i’d read a tweet from the official brad marchand twitter account that opened with “hey shorty” but here we are. “my nose wouldn’t fit” i astral projected the first time i read that. and if you’re wondering what torey said to prompt this, it was simply “hey marchy”. it doesn’t take much for brad to light on you, huh? we better watch our backs

definitely a favourite marcheron pic right here - the pucks and paddles (i still think that’s a questionable name but maybe that’s a me issue) content is always top notch. if you can find the video, it’s even better, but this picture captures the general energy of the video perfectly. the only thing missing is that brad’s feet aren’t actually on the floor because the height difference is so pronounced that bergy has to lift him. beautiful

return of the cute brad smile!! a cute yet mischievous little grin, i can only assume he’s restraining himself from laughing at m*tthews fivehead (although who is he to talk with that schnozz. at least he rocks it tbf 👃🏻). not sure blue is really his colour but he’s going for it anyway. that’s my all star!

it’s been days since this photo first surfaced and i haven’t stopped palpitating. the cutest photo ever, they all look so happy and i love that!!! also how are their wives so beautiful….!? oh my every pixel of this image is just stunning

i know i included this in my last bergy list but if they can name new york twice i think i can put this on 2 lists, because lord knows it’s even more iconic. i feel like this is a good metaphor for brad marchand: getting up to no good, although still relatively harmless, all the while supported by the considerably more sensible, yet still entertaining, patrice bergeron. additionally, another excellent display of the oft-overlooked fact that this man is built like a motherfucking tank. holy shit

i wish i could see these boys in suits without my brain immediately trying to think of some sort of au. anyway, i really like this look on brad (unpopular opinion - i love his loud checkered suits as a concept but i don’t think they look good). although he has dark hair, strong eyebrows, and dark facial hai, the all black actually looks really good on him. coffee in hand really adding to the look too - well done, brad “fashionista” marchand.

ahhhhh i love nothing more than family man marchy 💛 his daughter is adorable - those tiny jerseys kill me - and i love that his son is wearing the all-star jersey omg how cute (he is definitely going to end up taller than brad lmao)

sometimes i forget that brad is short and then i see photos like this (brandon is 6′5 for reference)…amazing. i relate to the lady on the left on a spiritual level. brad’s face is a mood and a half. his feet are half a foot of the ice at least. i adore this photo.

(gif via @brandoncarlo) absolutely one of my fav things about watching bruins games is how brad and patrice will always find each other during a celly - nothing beats the 100 hug. this is also just a very satisfying skating gif that i love.

last but very very very far from least is this. there is literally no need for me to make any comment on this so i’m just going to leave it and go. bradley kevin marchand you are iconic and ily

ayyy this was super fun to do, thank you for requesting it anon, i hope you like!! again, i’m absolutely up for taking requests for more of these lists so hmu if you have ideas :) 

[marvelhead17]

Miracle (Original Female Character x Cable Fic)

Chapter 13

Summary: “How did you fix it?” he asked. “Ask Ellen the Teenage Warhead,” Wade shrugged as he stood up, “As for baby Hitler he ended up having a diaper change, funny story I was actually going to call Cable since he was so keen on killing Russel, I thought this would be like taking candy from a baby, if that means replacing it with a bullet that is,”

Warnings to cover the whole fic: Graphic depictions of violence, use of weapons, mild to strong language, mentions of rape, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage, referenced torture and psychological abuse/manipulation, nightmares and night terrors, sexual humour, sexual content.

Word count: 1.7k

One Week Later

“Wade, whatever happened to that kid Russel?” Hayden asked as she took another bite of her breakfast.

“Oh Baldy McWheelchair decided that he could join the school, said it’d be good for the kid to be around other kids and have a more normal life than the purification shithole he was stuck in before, along with the other kids that were with him.”

“Oh good,” she pulled a face, “Wade I’m sorry but your cooking is shit,” she stood up to toss the rest of food in the garbage.

“I’m surprised you even tried it,” Nathan said before taking another mouthful of his omelette.

“Friends support each other’s attempts at things,” she shrugged, “But seriously Wade how the hell did you manage to ruin scrambled eggs and toast this badly?”

“I don’t know! I followed the recipe perfectly! Two eggs, a quarter cup of vodka, salt and pepper-”

  “Vodka? You added vodka to the eggs? Wade what the hell!” she gave him a look and then put the dish in the sink.

“I thought you could use a buzz early in the morning and nothing says buzz like the hard Russian stuff,”

“You were hoping to get her drunk weren’t you?” Nathan gave him a look.

“Okay you got me!” Wade held his hands up, “I’ve always wanted to see you drunk, I thought it might loosen you up a little, ya know?”

“What, I’m too serious all the time?” she stopped washing the dish and turned to face him.

“Sometimes, yeah,”

“First of all, I can’t get drunk, I’ve had an entire bottle of the strongest alcohol I could get my hands on and it was ninety-six percent of bitter after-taste.” She stood inches from his face now, “And second of all, screw you,” she hissed before she walked out the room.

The men watched as she left before Nathan turned to look at Wade.

He nodded, “Nice going asshole,”

                                                            * * *

                              “HE’S GOING SUPERNOVA!” Deadpool yelled, with a hint of excitement. He turned to Cable who frowned at him, “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

“Not if I can help it,” Colossus bounded forward into the towering orange flames that were transforming into a shade of blue.

“Colossus wait!” Hayden started after him but a cold hand grasped her shoulder and yanked her back.

“He can handle it Hades,” Cable said as she looked at him incredulously and shook his arm off.

The three waited for Colossus, their anxiety growing by the second, with bated breath.

  “BOZHE MOY!” Colossus ran towards them, his skin colour was bright red and his eyes were wide, he turned to glance back at the fire and shook his head, “Is too hot, even for me.”

Cable’s cyborg eye glowed and he looked at his arm, “His temperature is going to eventually reach cosmic levels if we don’t stop him,” he put his arm down and looked back at the others.

“How hot is that? Some of us were high school drop outs,” Deadpool said.

“So hot it’ll actually kill your fucking ass,” Cable said seriously.

Deadpool whistled, “Damn,”

“Out of the frying pan into the fire,” Hades suddenly spoke, they looked at her, puzzlement clear on their faces.

She pushed the sleeves of her shirt up her arm, revealing her glowing violet scars, she blinked and her eyes were bright violet to match, before she ran straight towards the fully blue flames.

“WAIT! Are you crazy?!” Cable tried to run after her but she was engulfed by the flames, the others pulled him back as the flame grew larger, they all winced with their hands covering their eyes from the intense heat despite their distance from the chaos. A male voice boomed in the centre of it all.

  “YOU CAN’T STOP ME I’LL-”

  Silence.

  The flames dissipated to smoke, the ground surrounding was cracked and dry as if it had seen no water in the last thousand years, and there she stood towering over the figure of an unconscious man.

Cable let out a breath of relief until he realised that something was wrong, Hayden appears to have at least triple the scarring on her body than before, he started walking forward thinking that his eyes were playing tricks on him and then stopped in his tracks.

“Best knuckle-sandwich I ever gave,” she beamed at them, her skin dimmed to its usual colour, well as usual as it could be with the black soot that covered it, they all gawked at her.

Colossus cleared his throat and spoke up, “Um- Hades- you’re- uh,” he removed his X-Men’s jacket, leaving his chest bare, and quickly handed it to her while looking the other way. “Take this.”

“I don’t understa- oh my god,” she quickly grabbed the jacket after having a look at herself.

Colossus rubbed the back of his neck and coughed looking away, Deadpool wolf whistled while Cable swallowed hard before shaking his head back to reality.

“Thank you Colossus,” her cheeks went pink.

  “It’s official you can’t be my sister anymore, not after I’ve seen you naked because damn,” Deadpool remarked.

She zipped up the huge jacket on her small frame and touched her head in confusion, the hair was singed off but it was already growing back, leaving her with a five o’clock shadow of sorts.

“Also Comrade Titties, I’ve never had more of a hard-on than I do right now, you should do all your missions shirtless. That way you can seduce the bad guys into surrendering,” Deadpool winked at Colossus who coughed uncomfortably. “The way I’ve already surrendered myself,” he commented to an unknown audience.

Hayden walked over to look Deadpool in the masked eyes; “If you say anything else I will castrate you and force feed you your own dick, got it?” she didn’t blink as she said this.

“You think she’s still angry about earlier?” Deadpool asked Cable.

“Gee, what makes you think that moron?” he replied sarcastically, “The fact that you put alcohol in her breakfast, or that you practically called her a kill-joy?”

“Wade you put alcohol in her food? Where did you even find alcohol, we do not supply such things,”

“Exactly why I got a guy on the outside- and wait, Haydes you’re still mad at me for that?”

  “Mad? I’m beyond mad,” then she turned to Colossus, “You have the collar right?”

“Da.” He handed her the collar dangling from his pants pocket.

She crouched down next to the unconscious mutant and placed the collar around his neck before activating it, she then lifted him over her shoulder and made her way to the X-jet, they all stared at her in wonderment before she turned around.

“What?” her eyes flashed violet quickly, her hair sprouted further out to reach a boy-cut length.

“Nothing.” They said in unison which made her eyes roll.

“Let’s just get Johnny Storm here on ice and head back home huh?” she sighed and put the mutant into one of the seats and buckled him in.

“Da. This is good idea.” Colossus headed inside the jet and sat himself down into the pilot’s seat and turned the engine on.

“Johnny Storm,” Deadpool snickered, “Nice one.” Hades only glared at him.

  Cable and Deadpool took their seats and the group sat in silence for the long trip to the Ice Box. Colossus handed over the criminal mutant to the guards outside while the two men and Hayden remained inside the jet.

She was not particularly in favour of anyone seeing her in what could perceived as her wearing her lover’s clothing, and both Cable and Wade had practically destroyed the place with their little fight over Russel months ago and weren’t keen on finding out what kind of welcome party might be waiting for them if they dared to go in.

                                                               * * *

                              When they had reached the mansion they were greeted by Domino, Ellie and Yukio. They were glad they had returned safely and that the mission was a success, the men walked in first and Hayden walked in last looking extremely displeased, the girls raised their brows in question to her clothing and hair that had already grown to bob length.

“Apparently Target’s clothing isn’t fire resistant and neither is my hair,” she said with a hint of bitterness. “So Colossus was kind enough to give me the shirt off his back, literally,”

“Why didn’t you just ask Colossus to get you a uniform?” Ellie asked.

“A uniform? I’m not part of the X-Men,” she said confused.

“No duh,” Ellie rolled her eyes, “You can still get official X-Force uniforms though,”

“I’m listening,” Wade suddenly popped his head into the conversation.

“You have a uniform Douche,” Ellie said feeling irritated and pushed his face away, “What I’m saying Hades is that you can get a uniform that won’t disintegrate, it won’t tear easily, and it can be whatever you want it to be. Right, Colossus?”

  “NTW I’m uncertain Professor Xavier will be very impressed if I used facilities for non X-Men people,” Colossus said nervously.

“Oh come on Colossus, do you want to have to give her your clothes every time hers gets destroyed? It’s very inconvenient and you know it,” she lathered the last bit on sweetly. “It’d be much more efficient to have her own uniform suited to her abilities than to strip in front of Wade,” she added.

“Fine, you have convinced me.” Colossus said as he glanced at Wade who was busy shining the metal man’s body with scented oil. “Wade, enough please.” He gently moved the man away from him. “I will be back once I am appropriately dressed.”

“Aw Colossus, wait!” Wade yelled as Colossus left the room, “You smell great!”

“Nyet, Wade!” Their running footsteps faded away as they went further into the mansion.

  “Well I better get dressed too,” Hayden looked at herself before clearing her throat, “Where can we all meet up to start this whole uniform thing?”

“I think we can just meet up in the rec room,” Ellie suggested, Hayden nodded before walking up the stairs; Nathan’s eyes followed her as she walked. The jacket was very wide but not long, leaving her legs exposed to his line of sight.

Ellie cleared her throat loudly making Nathan turn and look at her, “Been a while since you boned someone huh?” she asked with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face.

Yukio elbowed her softly, “That’s not appropriate!”

“But it’s true, isn’t it Cable?” she cocked her head to the side, the smirk growing bigger.

“Teenagers,” Nathan grumbled, rather flustered with his own behaviour himself.

He wouldn’t admit it to Ellie of course but it was true, it had been a very long time since he’d had sex.

________________________________________________________________

>> Chapter 14 <<

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

Chapter 9 of my Carry On Big Bang fic is posted! Chapter title from the Social Distortion song Story of My Life. Read it at AO3.

Chapter Nine: Story of My Life

Baz

The letter, when it arrives, looks out of place among the scatter of bills, circulars and junk mail that usually fills Simon and Bunce’s mail bin.

This particular day had started just like any of the other languid, comfortable ones before it had. Waking up to Simon in my arms, indulging in some early morning distractions, sitting together for our morning tea in the sunny kitchen.

It’s blessedly domestic and I’ve no idea what I’m going to do with myself when Bunce returns.

I’d raced home after meeting with my advisor. I suppose it’s odd that I refer to Simon’s flat as home, when I’ve got my own place. Well, not actually my own flat. Although with as much as Fiona travels I may as well be living alone.

But her place doesn’t feel like home. Even after all this time.

Simon’s does. It’s got all the essentials that make it that way—the scent of food cooking, the lumpy sofa, piles of dirty clothes in the corner of the bedroom, the medicinal scent of Simon’s soap.

And Simon himself. All the details that take me back to Watford and that simultaneously reinforce where we are now.

Fiona’s place just holds the persistent odor of nicotine, greasy kebabs and Earl Grey.

I’m humming as I take the stairs up to Simon’s and my choice of song makes me realize I have truly become a cliché.

I don’t care. Fuck clichés. There was a time when the only cliché I thought I’d manage was becoming a dead vampire.

Humming Robert Smith’s lyrics on a Friday afternoon seems a far better outcome.

I burst into Simon’s flat and find him on the sofa. That’s not particularly unusual for this time of day but his expression is. I’ve not seen an approximation of his thousand-yard stare for months and it unnerves me.

“Hello, love.” I drop my bag and sink down on the sofa next to him, pressing a kiss to his temple. I find his hand and feel his fingers grip mine as I lean into him.

I know better than to push when Simon’s like this. I just hold his hand while my eyes dart around at the flat; looking at him, at the untidy stack of books nearby, the pile of mail on the table.

And that’s when I see it. The thick, cream-colored envelope with precise lettering on the front, addressed to Simon.

With a return address in Wales.

I only know one person from Wales. And that person is dead.

I squeeze Simon’s fingers and then slip my hand out of his to wrap it around him and pull him closer. He leans into me, head dropping to rest on my shoulder.

“You’ve not opened it, then?” My voice is low.

He shakes his head. “Didn’t want to do it alone. Dunno who it’s from or what it’s about.” He swallows and turns his face into my neck. “I don’t know anyone from Wales except . . .” He trails off.

“You don’t have to open it right now.” I’m dreadfully curious about the contents but it also makes me uneasy.

The fact that the return address is for a solicitor’s office does nothing to dampen my concern.

The past few months have been so much better. Uni’s taken Simon’s mind off all the misery and he found a focus in his coursework this past term that he never had at Watford. It’s been good. The Mage’s death and the whole bloody aftermath of that blasted inquiry devastated him. It just kept reopening the wounds of his loss. We’d finally moved past all that.

And now this.

Right.

He doesn’t have to open it now but I know Simon. He’ll brood on it if he doesn’t. The unknown is worse than whatever that letter holds.

“Do you want me to open it, love?”

Simon goes rigid for a moment but then he sits up, jaw jutted out and eyebrows lowered. I know that look. My heart squeezes because I know him. He’s never one to back down on anything. “No. I should do it.” He leans forward and picks up the letter, holding it gingerly in front of him. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

He flips it over and rips the back open, sliding a sheaf of papers out. I lean over to skim the cover letter as he reads it. His hand is shaking.

“ ‘Sole beneficiary?’ What the bloody hell does that mean?” he mutters. “ ‘The bequest includes all tangible personal property, real estate and such items maintained on aforementioned property, as well as all personal effects including items until recently held at the Watford School and that were acquired by the decedent during his tenure as Headmaster at that facility.’ Baz, what the fuck does this all mean?” He thrusts the letter at me.

I take the cover letter and scan it quickly, riffling through the document that accompanies it.

Fuck. It’s the Mage’s will.

Fuck.

I read over the letter one more time. “He might not have gone through the paperwork to officially adopt you, Simon, but it seems the Mage made you his legal heir.” I skim the pages again. “This is a copy of the will. He’s left his entire estate to you.”

There is silence for a moment and then Simon’s head drops into his hands. “I don’t want it.”

It’s too much, too sudden, too overwhelming. It doesn’t surprise me that this is his first reaction.

I put my arms around him and his head drops onto my shoulder once more, his face buried in my neck, his words just a whisper. “I don’t want it, Baz. I don’t want anything to do with him. Not anymore.” His tail wraps around my leg and his wings tremble against my hands.

I run my hands gently up and down his back. “I’ve got you, love. We’ll sort this, never you mind. We’ll sort it.”

I order dinner. I pay the delivery man. I set out the meal, watch Simon pick at the chicken tikka on his plate, do the washing up. I choose a film to watch, endure the silence emanating from him. I know this routine. It’s like all those weekends at Bunce’s in those first months. It chills me to see how easily Simon has slipped back into that state.

It’s later, when we’re in his bedroom, that he comes alive again. Simon’s hands roam over my body, his kisses fast and firm and desperate.

“We don’t have to tonight, Simon.” I whisper it into his hair, as he reaches down to trail his lips along my neck. “It’s alright, love.”

“I want to.” His breath ghosts over my skin, his mouth sliding along my collarbone. “I want this, Baz. I don’t want to think about anything but you.” He tilts his head up to meet my eyes. “And I don’t want you thinking about it either. Not here. Not now.” His jaw clenches. “This is mine. Ours. And it’s bloody well going to stay that way.”

Simon holds himself up above me, makes me reach for his lips. I slip my fingers into his bronze curls as his wings unfurl above us. It’s warm and safe in Simon’s arms, a haven from the outside world.

“I don’t want to think, Baz.” His words hang between us. “Make me stop thinking.”

So, I do.

Simon

Morning comes and for a minute, when I first wake up, it’s like it always is. Me, on Baz’s chest, listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart, my legs tangled up with his, the cool stretch of his body against mine.

Then I remember.

And I get angry. It thrums through me, my pulse quickening, a wave of heat washing over me. I’d be seeing everything edged in red and wavering, if I still had my magic.

But I don’t have it anymore.

Fuck him. Fuck the Mage. Fuck his lies and his prophecies and his bloody Chosen One bullshit. I close my eyes and take a deep breath but I can’t find that place, that internal calmness that’s been so much easier to channel these last few months.

I just feel the rage.

I thought it was over. The whole fucking nightmare of the inquiry, the Coven meetings, the jumble of emotions in the aftermath of it all. I thought I could put it behind me and be done. Move on with my life.

Be Simon Snow. Not the Chosen One. Not a mage. Not anyone’s fucking hero. Just me. The Simon who lives with his best friend and goes to uni and is blissfully in love with a complicated, unfairly attractive man who happens to be the gentlest, least bloodthirsty and most posh fucking vampire in existence.

That Simon. That’s the Simon I want to be.

I don’t want to be the fucking Mage’s Heir again.I know it’s not the same, it doesn’t have the far-reaching ramifications and portents and utter shite it did before but Merlin, I am so fucking sick of those words in relation to me.

In any bloody form.

I had a bad feeling when I saw the envelope. Nothing to do with magic or foresight or any of that rot. Just unnerving. A tingling in my fingers as I picked the letter up, a chill down my spine when I saw that it posted from Wales, the wave of unease at the solicitor’s return address.

Nothing good could be coming out of Wales. Not for me.

I only knew one person from there. And it’s the person I would most like to forget.

I’m still trying to keep my breaths steady but the fury coursing through me is relentless.

He fucked with my life while he was alive. Can he not leave me in fucking peace now that he’s dead? Is that really too much to ask?

I can feel Baz’s breathing pattern shift and then cool fingers run through my hair. Bloody hell. I must have woken him up.

I tilt my head up. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

His fingers keep carding through my hair, rasping against my scalp. It’s far more calming than any of the breathing exercises I was half-heartedly attempting moments ago.

Baz is like that. Nothing calms me the way he does. His touch, his voice, that infuriating sardonic tone he has that makes me laugh.

It didn’t always do that. He used to just infuriate me, the jammy bastard.

Not anymore. He’s a cool breeze that soothes my soul now. Not that I tell him that, mind you.

Well, I don’t tell him often. He’d be insufferable if I did, the tit.

“You’re a mouth-breather, Simon. It’s virtually impossible to remain asleep when you are huffing and puffing like that.” His voice is gentle, even if his words aren’t. A finger traces along my jaw. “Are you alright, love?”

I drop my head to rest on Baz’s chest again, letting my breaths slow to match his. “I’m just angry. I thought we were done with all his shite.” I fist the sheet in my hand. “I wanted to be done with him.”

His fingers keep combing through my curls. “I thought so too. But we’ll sort this. I told you.”

“Sorting it means dealing with it, Baz. I don’t want to deal with it. I don’t want it. I don’t want anything to do with it.”

Baz sighs and shifts a bit. “It seems fairly clear-cut from the letter. Property, personal effects, any and all belongings. What you choose to do with that is up to you, Simon.”

“I don’t want to choose anything. Can’t I just throw the letter away and pretend I never got it?”

He laughs then, a rumble I can feel reverberating through his chest.  “You know they’ll keep sending letters, right? You’re the only heir. They made that very clear. ‘Sole beneficiary.’ Trust me, love, they want this sorted as much as you do. Unfinished business on the books is no good for them. They’ll track you down, no matter what, so we may as well deal with it head-on.”

It makes me want to tear my hair out. “I don’t want to deal with it, I told you.”

Baz tugs on my hair to make me look up at him again. “I know you don’t but someone needs to. If for no other reason than to get things in order and let you move on.” His expression is grave as he continues, although his tone is almost tentative. “Do you want me to deal with it, Simon? I can speak to Father, get his input, see what I can manage without you getting dragged down by it all?”

I collapse on his chest. “Yes. Yes. I would be eternally grateful if you just took over the whole sodding thing and left me out of it.”

“I can’t do that, you utter pillock. It’s your inheritance, not mine. You’ll still have to make some decisions, sign papers, likely speak to the solicitors. But I will do whatever I can to minimize your involvement, if that’s truly what you want.”

“That’s what I want.”

“Fine. I’ll call Father today, if that’s alright with you.” Baz frowns down at me. “I can talk to him about this, yes? Let him see the documents?”

“Merlin above, Baz, you can give him the bloody documents, for all I care. I trust you and I trust your father.”

He raises one eyebrow and quirks his mouth up. “It still absolutely bloody wrecks me to hear you say things like that, Simon.”

“Well, it’s true, you wanker. I trust you and Penny more than I trust anyone in this world. Your father’s one of the smartest people I know, present company excluded, and he’s far more sensible than you. I’d gladly take his advice on all this legal twaddle.”

That just makes Baz roll his eyes. “It’s not twaddle, you philistine, it’s inheritance law.”

“Call it what you like. But can we be done talking about it? At least until after you call Malcolm?”

The grin that appears on his face is wicked. “I’m going to tell him you finally called him Malcolm. He’ll be absolutely chuffed to hear it.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe I did. It feels so awkward calling him that.”

I feel the press of Baz’s lips on my forehead. “You can’t keep calling him Mr. Grimm forever, love.”

I can. I absolutely can keep calling him that.

Although I must say the thought of anyone describing Malcolm Grimm as chuffed is even more awkward than me calling him by his first name.

Then I’m laughing at that thought and Baz gives that fond smile of his that makes my heart beat faster and even though this fucking Mage business and inheritance shite is throwing me off kilter, I’ve got him and he can make anything better, just by being here with me.

[ur-mom-kayn]

Loyalty Chapter 37: The Shadow Owner

Akali Pov

What happened suddenly? Just before she could finally kill the noxious pig, her body stopped. She couldn’t do anything. While she was motionless, a mischievous smile appeared on Kayn's lips. "What did you do to me, you ass?" "Not me, but you upset my companion. Akio does not particularly like someone attacking one of his younger brothers. That's what you got yourself into." "Let me go!" Akali hissed. As if by magic, her right hand moved away from Kayn. She noticed that his companion made the same movement. What kind of technique was that? The guy was damn dangerous. Her whole body did not obey her. The guy had her completely under control. "Tell me. What kind of technique is that?" Kayn the bastard laughed very darkly. "That my love is the technique of shadow ownership." Just as Kayn uttered these words, she noticed that her shadow was linked to that of Akio. A discomfort spread in Akali.

"Akio has the affectionate epithet The Shadow Owner. He is able to set up his own will. You are at his mercy. Luckily he listens to my orders. Akio, please take the lady back to her seat." Akio nodded to Kayn and inevitably Akali had to do the same. She hated this situation more than anything else. She has never been so humiliated. While Akio took a few steps backward, Akali moved in the same motion. As she stood at the edge of the table, Akio jumped on the spot and freed her from the shadow shackles. She fell down uncontrollably on her ass. When she got up Kayn stood up and slammed his palms on the table. "What the fuck?! First, you disarm us at the entrance and now you attack us? The order will not be fooled!" Suddenly threatening, shadowy, red horns appeared over Kayn's head. Was that the Darkin in him?

The elders were scared to death in the presence of this beautiful monster. Nobody would have expected this look at Kayn. No one knew exactly how much he was still in control. "Please Kayn. Calm down again. The attack was not planned. I have to sincerely apologize to you for my student." Shen said. That could not be true. Akali did not regret her actions. In Ionia there was no room for Noxians and certainly not in the Council. Kayn took a deep breath and the horns disappeared. He then sat back down in his seat. "Another stupid move and we'll show you what Shadow Assassins are capable of," Kayn said. "Sry Kayn. It will not happen again." Irelia added. The bride must really have a crush on him. Even now that she knows he was a Noxian, she could not stop protecting him. Since the game night, he had wrapped her around the finger, even if he has fucked with Ahri.

"To come back to the subject now. Young man, are you really a Noxian or a demon? What was that before?" "I'm not a demon. I only share my body with a darkin. Unfortunately, he was banned earlier. And yes it is true. I am a Noxian. In the inversion, I was used at 10 years as a child soldier on Epul. Luckily, Master Zed found me. He gave me a home and made me become an Ionian from the ground up. I thought I'd get away with it, but unfortunately, my stupid uncle betrayed me." "I'm sorry, Kayn. I did not want to betray you. I just thought that you could spy on the Noxians. I did not want to make a sacrifice. Please accept a solid alliance with me as indemnity." "But Shen ... " Akali complained. "NOTHING BUT SHEN! You have already done enough. I do not want to hear a single word from you anymore. I will defend the coast with the order. Even though my father was against fighting Noxus, I will not let my brother hang again. If we do not help, it could be that the Noxians will invade deeper, as they did 8 years ago. That must stop!" All but Akali applauded Shen. She was tired of being commanded by him. It just went through the line that Zed always came before her. He keeps hiding private corridors to Zed or the fact that he was hiding a Noxian. That definitely went too far. Without hesitation, Akali left the conference. Now he can fight alone.

Shen Pov

After the conference, Shen went to see his student Akali. It had really cost him his nerves, which is why he actually shouted at her the first time. What did she think about the action? Kayn was a champion even without a day's work. An attack outside the rift was illegal. Only good that Akio could prevent the attack. His power was pretty scary, too. This stupid chest was never allowed to be opened. Now he had shadow doppelganger, shadow owner and Trespasser on the cheek. Before Shen made such an Order an enemy, he preferred to make common cause with Zed, even though it was against his moral concept.

At Akali's door, Shen knocked softly. "Fuck yourself, Shen!" He got an answer. "Please let us talk about it in peace. I beg you." Akali opened the door to him rather mischievously. With a look that could kill, she stared at him. "What do you want?" "Talk ... Why did you do that? Kayn did not hurt you. Besides, it was forbidden." "You're shitty serious? He is a rat in our ranks. He had to be eliminated. Want you seriously trust a Noxian under Zed's command?" "Yeah ... I was skeptical at first, but Kayn proved he was a good kid. Well, as good as you can be for a Shadowassasin. I understand that the times have changed." "And you understand that Zed has killed my father! Do you seriously ask me to form an alliance with my father's murderer?"

"Akali ... you know that I can not hold a grudge against Zed. It puts me out of balance." "Balance, balance, balance. The constant whining about balance is so annoying. I can not stand this anymore! Your idea of ​​balance is wrong. You are just as much a failure as your father. Do you know what Shen? Put your balance somewhere else. I'm out. Zed has always been more important to you than me. I can not bear it anymore." Shen did not feel good about it. She has never been so angry with him. "I ask you Akali. What's up with your mother? You wanted to take on her legacy as a fist of shadows or not?" "That's so damn shit. The title does not mean anything to me. Nor is the Kinkou clan. Tell my mother that I am gone. I'm leaving the clan." "Are you 100% sure you want to do that? Leave your home and your friends?" Akali relaxed her gaze but continued to look at him with confidence. "I am sure. I have to go my own way to finally find my destiny. The Kinkou clan is a burden, as is the balance. For now, I need your distance. I will apply for a vacation."

"Well. I have to accept that. But just so you know, there will always be a place in the Kinkou clan for you. Maybe a break is just right for you." Akali crossed her arms and looked skeptically at her former master. "That's amazingly grown of you. Thank you for not making it so difficult for me to quit." The young assassin took a step back and closed the door.

Zed Pov After his last match, Zed went to Kayn's room. There he found his pupil sitting on the edge of the bed like a wet blanket, together with Akio. That could not mean anything good. Zed closed the door behind him and removed his mask. With quiet steps, he approached his students. He crouched down and looked into Kayn's depressed face. "So what's going on? Did it get so crappy?" "Yeah ... everyone knows that I'm a Noxian." "Fuck ... How can that be ?! You are a perfectly trained Ionian. How are they supposed to expose you?", Zed tried to maintain a calm voice. He knew exactly how sensitive Kayn was to the subject. "It was not even my fault. Shen blew me up ..." "SHEN ?! Will the wanker fool me?" "No, but that's not the whole story. Afterwards, Akali attacked me immediately. Of course, she was allowed to get acquainted with the Shadow Owner because of the action. But not only that. After Akio caught her, Shen shouted at her and offered us a solid, official alliance." "You're kidding me, right? Shen is really ready to make a pact with the Order of Shadow? That's against the balance, is not it?" 

Kayn shook his head desperately. His students had no idea of ​​the philosophy of the Kinkou clan. Nevertheless, this action was very untypical for Shen. Especially yelling at his best friend was very unusual. Shen was the most emotionless bastard he knew. What was wrong with him? "And then what happened? How did the elders react to your background?" "Well ... after I was attacked, I got up and showed him my Darkin form a bit. They may have shit their pants. Anyway, my scene made sure that all of us made an alliance offer, as far as spying on the Noxians in return." Zed stared at Kayn stunned. He could not believe it. In just one conference, Kayn made sure Zed got a lot of power and for that, he just had to freak out. Why could he influence the people around him so much?

For a moment, Zed gave a damn about the presence of Akio. He took his friend in his arms and was not ashamed of it. He was damn proud of him. "Well done, my student." "Thank you, Master," he answered with half enthusiasm. He did not know him like that. His Kayn rubbed one always the success under the nose. But now he seemed very withdrawn. "Kayn, what's up? Why can not you be happy?" "I'm glad, but ... These looks ... The looks as they all learned I'm Noxian killed me. I have never felt so miserable in my life. I hate being a Noxian. I blew my ass so hard to become one of you and all the trouble was in vain. I do not want that. I do not want everyone to know who I am. I can live with it being a killer. I'm proud to be just like a Darkin hybrid. But I do not want to be associated with Noxus. This disappointment in Irelia's face. Or in Karma, or even Wukong, with whom I understand myself very well. I want that Ionia loves me. That they accept me and consider me one of them. The alliances arose more out of necessity than sympathy. How am I supposed to meet the other one now?"

Shen had done great damage. No one was allowed to make his boy sad, even if he proposed an alliance. That did not make the situation well for a long time. "Kayn, the other Ionians will accept you. Just talk to them. I'm sure they can still like you. And as for Shen, I'm going to pull his ears long. Do not wait for me." Zed got up and glanced at Akio, who told him to watch out for his little brother. Zed put on his mask again, left the room and went to his idiotic brother. Angered, he stormed into his room without knocking. "Shen you idiot! How dare you blow up my student? Kayn did not harm you! Shen ?! Shen ...? Brother ...?" Slowly Zed approached his brother room, who was lying in bed completely in tears.

[gaynoctgar]

Thoughts about Prompto’s arc in “Brotherhood”

The real title, for now, is something like “Prompto being formerly fat was not even remotely necessary and was offensively handled” or “Haley rants about Brotherhood because it’s so fatphobic”

TW: eating disorders, fatphobia.  

It’s also incredibly long, but I really want to share my thoughts.

Update: 10-4-2018: inspired by comments and tags, I added more examples of dialogue that exemplifies the problem

Update: 22-4-2018: accounting for the new “official profiles”...it got worse, everyone.

Oh Prompto.  Prompto Argentum.  My beloved, sweet, beautiful bi boy who could have had a much more satisfying arc.  They really tried, didn’t they?  They tried to give you a touching backstory and instead exposed their fatphobia.  And as for the bi part, well, that’s another essay in and of itself....stay tuned everyone. 

Yes, this is one of those posts.  That’s why I put all of this under a “Keep reading.”  It’s just something that has been subtly bothering me for a long time and I thought I’d give this short essay format a try.  There will be a TL;DR at the end, I suppose, but please read through this if you are interested in this aspect that I feel is both underexplored and overexploited about my most favorite character in anything ever.

A bit about myself before we begin: I am rather chubby.  I’m 5’4” (162cm) and 220 lbs (100 kg), and I have struggled off and on with eating disorders since I was in high school.  I do realize this makes me “obese,” but this essay isn’t about that.  Rather, it is about how fatness and obesity is often portrayed in media as a character flaw, or something to overcome, and my own feelings about why this is harmful. To be clear, I want to make two major points with this: 1) Prompto being “formerly fat” is not something that was even remotely necessary for his character arc and its inclusion and resolution are nothing short of fatphobic and; 2) the fact that Prompto receives his character development via losing weight in Brotherhood is emblematic of every problem I have with how media chooses to include fat people.

These points are incredibly intertwined, so let’s start by exploring what was intended by the episode.  I want to be clear and demonstrate that I fully understand what the episode intended to show, and I will continue to acknowledge what the likely intent was.  This essay/rant is critiquing the execution.

If the point of Brotherhood was to suggest that Prompto had a lonely childhood until he met Noctis, that’s great!  I understand that that’s what Brotherhood was showing.  HOWEVER. I have been sickened, from the moment I saw his episode, with how his journey to lose weight was correlated with his journey to “be good enough” to be Noct’s friend.  Let me be clear.  I understand that we are supposed to interpret this as a character flaw on Prompto’s part, and we see in the gayest scene the rooftop motel scene that losing weight did not resolve Prompto’s self-confidence.  I know that.  What I am saying is that him losing weight was in no was necessary to include, at least not in the way that they did.  There are some ugly implicit implications here, not least of which is that eating nothing but salads is, I would argue, just as unhealthy as what he was doing before. The show treats it as a positive good that Prompto appears to be starving himself and thinking obsessively about losing weight, and that is what I am taking issue with.

I, personally, detest the “formerly fat” trope and all its incarnations.  Wouldn’t it simply have been enough to say that Prompto was painfully shy (he was) and very lonely (he was)?  Why do these feelings have to be justified via his body?  Was there no other way you could justify Prompto simply being too shy to talk to Noct? Noct’s the prince, Prompto is a commoner who feels that he’s nothing particularly special…would this not have been enough?  Doing it the way that they did implies that being fat is a moral and character flaw that needs to be corrected in order for you to be seen as a hero. That is what I am taking issue with.

And yes, I realize that the “weight loss journey” is jump-started by the fact that babby Noct says “heavy…” when trying to help Prompto to his feet.  Believe me, I understand first-hand how much that hurts. I faced many similar instances in my own life.  I can’t blame him for saying it, he’s a kid, but I do want to point out that Noct never apologizes for this.  You could say “he didn’t realize he was wrong” but maybe you could have had a scene where Noct wonders why the cute boy with the camera is avoiding him, and Ignis can say something like “well, did you do or say anything that might have upset him?” and Noct can actually apologize for hurting Prompto’s feelings.  This is not unreasonable to expect.  When I was a kid and people were avoiding me, my mom always asked me to think back on why that might be.  It’s part of growing up and learning that your words and actions have consequences.

TO BE FAIR: I do think the motel scene was an attempt to rectify all of this in the game.  While Prompto formerly being fat is not explicitly mentioned, he is mortified that Noct remembers him back in elementary school.  Now, I love Noct, but he’s stupid sometimes, and not very intuitive. This is, however, in his character, and I will allow it because the very next thing he says is “You should have said something sooner.”  This shows Prompto (and the audience) that Noct doesn’t give two shits about how Prompto looks, now or ever, and I am happy that this was included.  However, there is no given reason behind why Noct couldn’t simply talk to Prompto himself beforehand.  Like I said, Noct is an idiot, and also a lot more shy and awkward than he lets on. But this moment was sweet between them, even if you don’t ship promptis, and I do think it is fair to mention it.

However, coupling all of this with the fact that the “character sheets” show us that Prompto does, canonically, have a fear of gaining weight, as well as these little snippets of dialogue…

Prompto: Hey, let’s hit up the Crow’s Nest!

Ignis: If you wish to put on weight? Certainly.

Prompto: *sighs* Yeah, I know…

(I swear to god every time I get this dialogue I SCREAM at Ignis, how is this even remotely okay to say to your friend who you damn well know has problems with his weight and there’s no way you don’t know this--)

EDIT: The addition of this quote is based on the tags from @gentiuna, I knew I was forgetting something!

Noct: Why is your face so fat?

Prompto: I’m NOT fat!!

(I swear to Jesus you’re on thin fucking ice with me Noct, that’s not even remotely funny and you need a time out to think about what you’ve done--)

This one I have only gotten once in my ~400 hrs of play but I swear I didn’t make it up; if anyone finds the specific words, I will correct it:

Ignis: talks about food and how it’s “anything your heart wants” or something

Prompto: Yeah, it’s the wanting that’s the problem.

I think this was intended to be a nod to Brotherhood but (and @bernielu can back me up on this) I SCREAMED when I heard it. How is that REMOTELY okay?  Nobody even REACTS to this, or asks if Prompto is okay, or ask him why the FUCK he would say that.  

This is when it becomes pertinent, I think, to discuss my own experience with eating disorders.  I have wonderful friends and family, and I’m well on the road to recovery, but back when I was in high school, I just straight up wouldn’t bring food to lunch.  Retroactively, I realize they all brought extra, hoping I would get just hungry enough to pick at the scraps (I usually did), and that was their way of helping me and showing me that they cared.  It can be hard to want food sometimes.  As offensive as I find its inclusion, I do think that’s an accurate way of representing how it can feel: you know that food is good, and you know that you are hungry, but it’s wanting to eat it that’s a problem.  Here’s my issue: that should have raised everyone’s red flags, and the fact that nobody, NOT EVEN NOCT, WHO WE CAN EXPECT TO KNOW ABOUT THIS, says ANYTHING about this, and the game writes it off as another one of its Infamous Banters ™….it’s not looking great.  It’s not looking like representation, to me.  It’s looking like erasure and fatphobia.  

Babby Prompto is supposed to be viewed with pity but also, I think, with disdain: by the audience and by Prompto himself.  I’ve noticed in many fics that the fans like to almost romanticize this aspect of him, and explore that he has an eating disorder which is…I don’t’ like it because most of these fics come to the same conclusion: Prompto ends up skinny anyway and it’s just a quirk about him.  This is what I meant when I said that I feel this is overexploited, earlier in the essay, but also underdeveloped in the sense that they basically, in my opinion, show this as something that Prompto had to “get over” to be a real protagonist. They don’t go into how fucked up Prompto’s psyche must be from this.  It’s just kinda…ignored.  

UPDATE 22-4-2018: I’ve got to get this off my chest, the new “Official Works Profile” for Prompto made all of this worse.  It literally outright states that, after rescuing Pryna, Prompto “decided “to become the right sort of person for a Prince” and worked to change himself. It also refers to Prompto having a “pudgy youth” as if that were a bad thing.  It also says “Incidentally, Prompto’s photography hobby developed when he was dieting and took photos to record his weight loss progress.” Not gonna lie, this one made me physically ill.  There was literally no reason for that other than to imply that being fat is somehow immoral.  Why is Prompto’s “personal resolve” equated to losing weight? Why couldn’t it simply have been to be more outgoing? I’m fucking ANGRY, I’m done being polite about this.

My solution, then? Well, one of two things: 1) don’t make Prompto fat to justify his bad childhood if you know you’re just gonna make him thin and completely ignore that he was ever different, which is my preferred solution, or 2) have at least one character be bigger and that’s just how they are and it’s not made into a plot point or anything.  

A final note: I KNOW people can and do drop tremendous amounts of weight, and I want to be clear that I am not suggesting this is bad or that people shouldn’t do it.  A person’s weight and their relationship to it is their own business, and as long as people have a healthy relationship with their body, I’m not one to judge.  I know that we are supposed to see Prompto’s weight loss as heroic and a strong example of his dedication to Noctis.  And sure, we get that.  But maybe I have convinced you that the development we get comes at the cost of fatphobia, at least in terms of how it was portrayed here.

TL;DR: Prompto didn’t need to be fat to develop his character, and its inclusion and treatment in the narrative of Brotherhood suggest an uncomfortable degree of fatphobia.

If you stuck around for the whole thing, thank you so much for reading my thoughts.  It’s something that has been bubbling up in me for months, and now I am finally able to put it in words. <3