#;; I HAVE SOME DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONS I NEED TO ANSWER!! that have been buzzing around in my brain!!! WHICH I WILL TOTALLY ANSWER AS WELL!

[kaerinio]

okay, i am going to go work on work things! please feel free to send in any dany questions! they can be about anything! any verse, any topic, whatever you wanna know! 💖

[rainbowsky]

Hey RBS.. Wishing you a wonderful week ahead. Do you think Globalfever fansite is being managed directly by someone from GG/DD’s team. Many a times I wonder how that site able to get tickets to all of our boys events and capture such close up candid shots of GGDD unless she is part of their inner circle?

Example today - https://weibo.com/7320958826/OydEkDN0w

not sure if it’s original or edited.. from that video it looks like XZ acknowledged her words of Jiayou and bye bye

Hi Natashayishan, thanks! I hope you're well, and that you have a wonderful week too! 😊

Here's the video for those who don't have access to Weibo.

To answer this question I'm going to start by explaining a bit of background about fansites and how they function (I'm by no means an expert, but here's my understanding of how it all works).

Part 1 - Fansites in General

There has been a lot of talk about fansites over the years, and some have faced accusations, criticisms, confusion, suspicions, theories both positive and negative for a very long time. I think they're largely misunderstood by a lot of fans.

For example, it's not uncommon for people to believe fansites are stalkers, or that they shamelessly profit from the unauthorized use of a star's image or footage, or that they're organizations that exist for the purpose of exploiting stars.

This isn't really how it works at all. In general, a fansite is just one fan who follows a star's career and enjoys sharing photos and videos they take of that star. Plain and simple. Some fansites involve more than one person, but most are just made up of individuals.

Yes, they sometimes make money selling photo books and other merch, but that money tends to go back into supporting the star -buying endorsement products, arranging events and giveaways, buying or upgrading equipment needed to create fansite content (cameras, computer equipment, software), paying for tickets (many of which are overpriced reseller tickets) and travel/accommodations to attend events, etc.

It might seem glamorous - and there's undeniably a glamorous aspect to it - but to me it looks very stressful, like a huge headache. These fans generally have their own lives and careers outside of fandom, so coordinating everything, waiting in lines, standing in the rain outside appearances and events, not to mention the pressure to attend events and post regular updates, and all the haters and antis they are constantly dealing with, the amount of stress and frustration they deal with must be immense.

It's a lot of work, and for this reason, fansites don't always stay fansites. Some retire as their real life interests and obligations shift. One of my favorite GGDD fansites - Midnight Dream - retired a few years ago. 😢

Fansites are an important part of any celebrity's support system. While no - they aren't part of a celebrity's team or on their payroll, they do play a huge part in helping to bring attention to a star and build buzz around them, their projects, their appearances, events and other activities.

If you want an analogy that might help it make more sense to you, just look at some of the sports fans across the globe who will follow all the matches, follow team developments, team picks, managers and training, and share all that info on blogs, podcasts or dedicated sports fan sites.

This is very similar. They're just really dedicated fans who build a following by being where we can't be, and sharing their experiences so that we can feel like we were there, too.

And they provide the fans and the stars an immense, immeasurable service IMHO, despite what we might agree or disagree with about the way fandom culture works. The content they capture and share is almost always far more intimate (generally without being invasive), and of a far higher quality than that of the professionals hired to cover these events on behalf of media agencies and management.

Fansites do get some official support from time to time. For example, there are events where fansites can get approval - almost like a press pass or a security pass - to attend and be in certain locations within or near facilities to take photographs, video, etc., but they are not hired or compensated by the star or their team.

A lot of it is also largely unknown/unknowable, so it's hard to be sure of the details. There are always going to be rumors and claims. For example, there have been claims that during SDOC Yibo was allowed to invite 4 fansites to come to the finale, and of the 4, he chose 3 BXG fansites and only one solo site. I haven't seen proof of that, but the claim was making the rounds a lot at the time.

One thing we do know - he chose a fansite photo to give to Yangkai when he was courting him to join his team in season 4. (Of course, solos made a huge stink and Youku ended up editing the footage to remove the photo, but we saw what we saw).

There are other examples of GG and DD interacting with or showing acceptance of their BXG fansites. I started looking for some references and then realized it was not something I have time for or interest in. I'm not here to give a comprehensive analysis anyway, I'm just here to give a simple-ish answer to your question. If others want to discuss that in the notes, that's fine.

So, hopefully some of that background info will have answered parts of your question, and gives you more tools to evaluate things on your own moving forward.

Part 2 - Global Fever

As for Global Fever specifically, well... Global Fever is one of the most treasured BXG in the entire fandom. This dedicated fan has been following GG and DD BOTH, since they debuted. She is more than just a CP fan, she's been a supporter of their individual careers since day 1.

Yes, since back when Yibo was still the White Peony.

She became a CP fan in the natural way - by seeing her faves work together on The Untamed, by watching them interact and by following them and their careers. No, she doesn't work for their teams (they both have dedicated teams of their own, and they don't need to pay fansites who - after all - will do this stuff for free). It's just that she's recognizable to GG and DD because she's been a fixture in their lives for so many years.

And this is something solos need to get their heads around: BXG are fans too. I think there's this conceit among solos that THEY'RE GG and DD's fans and BXG are something else, but in reality (and, no doubt, in the eyes of GG and DD) BXG are their fans too.

Never could that be more apparent than when a dedicated fan like Global Fever jiejie is calling 'Zhanzhan, jiayou!' and 'byebye!' as he's boarding an elevator on the way to the stage. Of course GG recognized her and smiled at her. Of course.

[blondiedae]

dry house, wet clothes (nine)

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃 dry house, wet clothes, nine

pairing. johnny suh x afab!reader x jeong jaehyun

genre. angst, fluff, eventual smut, slow burn (for jaehyun), friends to lovers (for johnny)

warnings. swearing, kissing, angst, fluff, miscommunication, mentions of drinking, oral (giving, receiving - Johnny is a man obsessed), dirty talk, spitting (only briefly), we’re close to praise kink territory, romantic penetrative sex, rough sex, fingering, breast play (fucking), begging, creampie, use of pet names (babe, baby, Juliet, good girl)

word count. 8,460

plot. the four of you have spent years building the world around you, your friendship, your weekends together hidden in jaehyun's loft. you, mark, johnny and jaehyun. shaking the foundation of that by being in love with your best friend, jaehyun, is a risk you've never been confident enough to take. but, johnny suh is confident and johnny suh has been known to shake the world around you.

other's mentioned. kim jungwoo, mark lee, lee taeyong, nakamoto yuta, kim dongyoung (doyoung)

author's note. i really struggled with where to cut this off. but, this felt like the best spot, even though it’s a bit short. chapter ten will be (roughly) 20k and there is a lot that happens, once spring comes around. please enjoy a moderately tame chapter before the climax.

taglist (open). @xiaojunsdino @yoursyuno @girlisaloser

playlist. here!

“What happened on New Year’s eve?”

There was an honesty lingering on Jaehyun’s tongue; honesty that needed to roll off the end of it, honesty that needed released. There was a tension in his shoulders, a weight he had developed new muscles specifically to carry. His body ached from the strain, his heart felt the worst of it. Jaehyun had tried, he had taken steps closer and closer to the edge until he got close enough to see just over it; something unknown, something unstable, something ungrounded. And when he saw that, he pulled back and he started over.

He was stuck in a cycle that was destroying him.

Jaehyun looked up at Jungwoo, tried to swallow misdirected malice and asked, “What did you say to her?”

It was accusatory, still slightly misplaced. Jaehyun knew it came back to him, all of it came back to Jaehyun and honesty that couldn’t, wouldn’t roll off his tongue. Still, he braced himself for impact, braced himself for honesty he wasn’t owed from Jungwoo, “I don’t know.”

“Just tell me.”

Jungwoo stopped in his tracks, fiddled with something on Jaehyun’s counter and shook his head. It had only been three days, the memory would always be wrapped in a haze of alcohol and music, laughter and the buzzing from his kitchen light. Jungwoo could remember most of it, some of it, a piece of the way you’d looked at him and the sinking feeling in his stomach when he knew, “I messed up.”

“How?”

“She…she was looking for you. And I just said that you missed her.” Jungwoo let out a breath, “I think I said that your mom missed her. So, she knew.”

“Oh.”

“I thought she already knew.”

It came back to him; Jaehyun and the honesty he cowered away from. He looked at Jungwoo and tried to step closer to the edge, “It’s my fault.”

“Yeah.” He’d never sugarcoat things. If Jaehyun could, if he could clear his head, he might think to thank Jungwoo for that, “It is.”

More weight, more tension. Jaehyun was close to caving and crumbling under it.

“What happened on New Year’s eve?” Mark’s head was in his hands, on the sofa across from Jaehyun, “I feel like I’ve been hungover for four days.”

Jaehyun looked at him easily, smiled and shook his head, “Did you have fun?” Answering Mark’s question with his own, piling on more weight. Mark didn’t need to know. Realistically, Mark was asking for his own clarity. So, Jaehyun avoided an answer with substance and added on, “You got pretty drunk.”

4:56pm What happened on New Year’s eve?

[4 Missed Calls from Johnny]

Jaehyun’s hands clenched around his phone, feeling it vibrate for the fifth time in the last six hours. He rolled his shoulders, tried to redistribute the weight, tried to breathe. Johnny had called and he called, then he waited before he called again and Jaehyun couldn’t pull himself to the edge to pick up. Instead, he watched his screen light up and go dark four times, instead he let a text and four calls go unanswered, avoiding them until he didn’t have a choice.

Until Jaehyun’s intercom alerted him and Johnny made himself unavoidable, “Open up.”

Jaehyun did.

Johnny had his hands in his pockets and a genuine, curious look on his face. He looked Jaehyun up, then down, then pushed past him to come inside, “Good. You’re alive.”

“Johnny.”

“What’s going on with you, man?” His friend put a hand on his shoulder. Johnny grabbed at him, squeezed at the tension and tried to relieve it, concerned, “Are you okay?”

Jaehyun lied. He was so good at lying, at looking his friends in the eyes and saying, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You’re good?” Lie. Jaehyun nodded and Jaehyun lied. Johnny patted his back, “Good. Now, what’s the truth?”

There was no way to answer that. He pushed his door closed, quieting the wind outside and not risking looking down the street to where he knew you were, where you’d been since you’d told him you needed space. You couldn’t be his friend. Jaehyun shook his head, “That is the truth.”

“I’ll ask a different question, then?” Johnny sat down, using the back of Jaehyun’s couch as a chair, “What happened on New Year’s eve.”

It’s my fault. Jaehyun blinked. He put more distance between himself and Johnny, himself and the edge, Jaehyun and honesty, “I don’t know, John. I don’t remember a lot of it.”

“Try.”

“Maybe you should ask her.”

“I will.” Johnny stood up then, “I’m worried about her. I’m worried about you too, man. So, talk to me.”

One year ago, you were standing in the same spot Johnny was. One year ago, when Jaehyun had spent days wishing he’d kissed you at midnight, you were in his living room, in his sweatshirt, safely in his heart. It felt naive to think you’d always be there, now. Jaehyun felt his hands, his ears, his chest warm at the thought - loss, you being gone for a while, maybe for good. He had to hold onto something to keep his composure, to keep himself from spiraling.

Jaehyun took another step away from Johnny and gave a pinch of the truth, “We’re just growing up, John.”

Johnny nodded, like he accepted that as an answer. Jungwoo’s party had been an interesting way to recognize growth; the way all of you looked so out of place in your uniforms and, at the same time, the way you looked just as you always had. Jaehyun couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t walk himself away from how much you all had changed. He fell in love with the girl in that uniform, he’d traced constellations into your skin, he made promises he thought he’d have time to keep. You weren’t her, anymore. The fragments of her he could still see were wedged into places they didn’t fit - shattered remnants of you in high school, you in college, you and him in every moment before October. Before Johnny told me he likes me.

“Yeah, we are.” Johnny would never give up. He was too assured to do that, Johnny was riddled with determination. Five missed calls, one text and Johnny on Jaehyun’s doorstep just to ask, “What does that mean for you?”

It was enough to stop Jaehyun from running, not enough to pull him back. Not yet. He raised his head, shifted in place and gave more of the truth than he anticipated, “We’re growing apart.”

There was silence after that, such an uncomfortable pause. It stretched on and on and on until Johnny nodded, looked down at his hands and asserted, “It doesn’t have to mean that.”

You got to choose, so it did. Jaehyun didn’t want to be bitter, he didn’t like the taste that had lingered for months, intensified in the new year. It was the decision you’d come to and he didn’t fight it. Seeing you with tear-stained cheeks, broken in front of him and begging, Jaehyun didn’t think he could fight it. His head shook, a resentful laugh preceding more honesty, “It does. It’s what…it’s what we decided, for now.”

“We?”

“Yeah.”

“And what does that mean?”

Relentless, determined. Johnny wouldn’t give up. Jaehyun took in a breath, he’d it and let it out in a rush, “We’re just…not going to be friends for a while. We’re - I’m giving her space.” Jaehyun added, “And you.”

Johnny countered, “Why do I need space?” While Jaehyun took too long to answer, Johnny took the time to figure it out. His tongue clicked, “Ah. Do you wanna talk about that?”

“Not really.” Jaehyun corrected, “There’s not much to talk about.”

“There was enough for you to need space from her.” Like it was a joke, Johnny raised his hand and corrected, “From us. Is that what it is?”

“It’s…”

“What is it?”

“I don’t…”

“You gotta just say it, man.” Johnny knew to push, Johnny knew everything to say to push and get Jaehyun to plummet, “What’s going on?”

Jaehyun reverted back to pinching off pieces of the truth, “I don’t want to see her get hurt, again.”

He didn’t. He didn’t want to watch the way you’d collapse into yourself, he couldn’t watch you shatter again. Jaehyun was already holding onto shards and fragments and pieces you’d left behind. He couldn't stomach you looking at him the way you did on New Year’s eve, the way you had for the last three months. Jaehyun couldn't hear your voice break and crack and strain when you spoke, especially if it was to say his name. And Jaehyun couldn’t be the one to do it; to break you, to hurt you.

If you needed space, he’d give it to you. Because Jaehyun had little else to give.

Johnny shook his head. They’d circled around this conversation before, they’d visited the topic in your yard. He wanted to remind Jaehyun that he wasn’t the only one who cared about you, that what Johnny felt was so secure and stable. How Johnny felt, how he hoped you felt. He wanted to shout at Jaehyun for ever thinking that he would handle you with anything but care.

Johnny was somewhere near disbelief when he reminded Jaehyun, “I was there, too. When he left”

“What?”

“I was there. I know what that did.” Johnny paused, he settled the anger that was forcing its way out and then, he went on, “I know she’s your best friend, but you’re not the only one that doesn’t want to see her hurting.”

Sicheng. The four of you, the three of you who knew and Mark who had only been told, hadn’t spoken about him in years. In the last three months, you’d come back to it and back to it, again. Jaehyun would go with it, he’d let it happen; Jaehyun could let Johnny think he was talking about Sicheng, he could hide in his shadow and take more time. Time he was losing, time that was fleeting.

Jaehyun lied and he hid and he tucked himself away in a shadow when he said, “She hadn’t been in a relationship, a real one, since…I, look, I just want you guys to have time to figure it out.” Figure out that it doesn’t work. “So that it doesn’t fall apart.”

His stomach churned. Jaehyun hated himself, hated this moment. He hated that Johnny was on his couch, watching and waiting and likely seeing through his lie. But, Jaehyun hated, more than anything, when Johnny just nodded and stood up, “Whose decision was it? The whole space thing?”

Swallowing, without any real reason but like it came naturally to him, Jaehyun lied, “Mine.”

He scoffed. Johnny scoffed and tilted his head, backing towards the door, “Jae, who do you think is hurting her?”

📻

It was empty; your chest felt like it had been hollowed out and pushed full of air. There was only space for your heart to beat lowly, for it to echo in an empty chamber only half full. Johnny had told you you’ve always been the best with change.

In a rush of honesty, of vulnerability, you told him I think I’m afraid of change.

He knew to push you, to encourage you, to watch you accept something new and give you time to let it grow. But, Jaehyun wasn’t something new.

You’d held onto certain seeds for too long, you’d kept them locked away and let them rot in soil that didn’t suit them. The Earth was tainted, where you’d planted your friendship with Jaehyun, everything he’d meant to you, all that the two of you had been. It wasn’t suitable for growth. The ground was too cold, in January, in December, in November. It was drowning in rain, too wet in October and in September. In August and July and June, the sun was too bright, too harsh; it dried up the Earth and cracked around the seed. And, in May, April, March and February the weather had always been too unpredictable.

Your heart broke, it wilted, it withered in your chest knowing there had never been a time for the two of you - for you and Jaehyun - to twist together, to intertwine in the Earth and burst through the ground towards the sky in bloom.

It was a change you couldn’t make, one you couldn’t adapt too no matter how much time you’d had.

Johnny hands held you gently, planted something so small inside a pot and when it grew too big, moved it to the next. He built greenhouses, sanctuaries for you to keep growing - hoping you’d let him tend to it, let him grow with you. Everything was changing around you and he made sure you could have time to adapt.

He held your hand, held you close to him - just the two of you on your couch, lit up by the screen across the room. playing a movie you’d seen before. Johnny breathed evenly, encouraging your lungs to fill as his lungs did, urging your chest to rise and fall in time. He’d been more delicate, he’d worn gloves and tended to you for five days, giving you both time to settle into the new year.

He laughed at the movie, squeezed your arm tighter when he noticed you didn’t. Johnny pulled on his gloves and asked you, with lips pressed to your temple, “Where'd you go?”

“I’m here.”

Johnny knew when to push, he knew what to say, he knew what moves to make, “Are you okay?”

“I’m…” Your mind dissected his question; pulled it apart word by word, letter by letter and left it a torn apart mess. Your own answer came to a halt at your lips, stopping itself too abruptly for you to react. Words were lost, you were lost, “I don’t…”

I don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t have an answer that won’t tear me apart. You were spiraling, again and again and again. Looping around the truth, I lost my best friend.

You’d told Jaehyun I don’t think I can be your friend, right now. Every word felt like a knife dragging along your throat, every syllable was another piece of your heart, your soul, the person you’d always been being chipped away at. You’d made the decision, you got to choose, and it still destroyed you. It wasn’t enough to say you’d lost your best friend, it was a loss greater than that.

It was years of him, of you, of the two of you together. It was years of trying to find a word for what you were to each other, a feeling even close to how you felt. It was two decades of your lives seeping into one another until there was little that was left separate. You had intertwined, but you’d refused to grow. So, how you felt for Jaehyun sat just under the surface, clinging to fragments of light, until it wilted away.

You couldn’t stop your body from shaking, the tears that spilled, slipped down your cheeks as a result. Johnny watched you, saw everything erupt in real time. His heart pounded in his chest, “It’s okay, babe. I’m so sorry.”

You’d never blame Johnny. You wanted to tell him that, wanted the truth to spill out of you as quickly, as easily as your tears did. Every breath you took felt like fire in your lungs, “No, it’s…”

Words failed. Johnny held you closer to him, “Take your time. I’m here, I’m listening.”

Listening to you gasp for air, listening as sobs were the only thing that broke through your lips. Johnny was listening as you forced out consonants and breathed in on vowels, as everything you tried to say fell flat. Your palms were sweating, itching as they held onto him. Spoken words failed and Johnny was right; racing thoughts were running into barriers on their way out, tangled in your vocal cords, held hostage behind a barrier. You pushed yourself away from him, croaking out one word, “Stay.”

His eyes followed you as you walked up the stairs, he listened until he could hear you coming back down. Then Johnny watched as you sat at the end of the couch, until he felt the chill of the space between you, and saw the book in your hands. You scribbled, you scratched, the movie played behind you. Johnny waited until you closed it, your name facing up, and handed it to him.

I told Jaehyun we couldn’t be friends.

Scribbled out above it, Jaehyun and I

I’m not friends

Johnny read over the words, head nodding slowly, “I know.” He reached his hand out, again. He wrote underneath, Tell me about it.

You’d never blame Johnny.

You thought, you closed your eyes and thought of what to say. Then, you wrote, I just think this change was too big for both of us.

And Johnny’s heart sank, I’m sorry

“It’s not your fault.” You scooted closer, “Johnny, I…”

You looked back down at the book, how his writing got smaller when he apologized for something that wasn’t ever his fault. It never would be. Your fingers traced the two words, tried to keep tears at bay, then wrote, I want to be with you. You said you wanted us to grow and I want that, too. I want to be on the same page, always.

Johnny couldn’t help but scribble, We’re on the same page, right now.

When he slipped the book back to you, when you read his message, the two of you laughed. Honesty ran through your veins, vulnerability and comfort and safety in his presence. Johnny smiled at you, motioned for you to pass the book back so he could add, How do you feel?

“Terrible.” Until it gets easier to say, you can write it. With ease, with comfort, you confided in Johnny, “It’s temporary. It’s supposed to be temporary.”

“Hm.” He nodded, “Give it time.”

“It’s weird.”

“It’s weird?” Johnny knew it wasn’t that simple, he knew there was more to be said, “Try again.”

“It hurts. A lot.”

“How can I help?” He reached his hands out again, you put the book behind you and took them both in yours, “Tell me what I can do.”

You’d be asking the world of him, you’d be asking too much. It was selfish, “Just stay.”

Johnny told you, “I’ll stay.”

📻

Mark had snowflakes on his eyelashes, nestled in his hair, clinging to fabric of the scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. The chain of the swing squeaked with every push of his legs, unable to freeze despite the cold, “You and Jaehyun aren’t talking.”

“How’d you know?”

“It’s been a month since we were all together.”

“It has.”

“Will you tell me?” You brushed the flakes of white sprinkled in his chocolate colored hair, reaching across from your own swing and rattling the chains as you moved. Mark shivered, cheeks rosy from the cold, “Please?”

You told him, “You need a hat. You’ll get sick.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

The ice in your lungs made your breath form like a cloud of smoke in front of you when you said, “We’re just changing. Everything is changing.”

“Yeah, everything always does.” Mark pushed off the ground again, “Why does that mean you stop talking?”

Your hands shook, wrapping around the chain links holding your swing up. You could blame the cold; snow had been falling for three days straight, hiding the sun behind the clouds they carried it. You could blame the wind that swept flurries across the park, down the slides left untouched in the winter. Mark wouldn’t believe you, but eventually he’d swing himself into forgetting to press, he’d stop asking and move onto something else. Because Mark didn’t need to be involved in it.

Not more than he already was. Mark was just as tangled in a mess you couldn’t make sense of, seeing things you’d never notice and still grappling to piece it all together. You looked at him, “You said it, I think. He’s just been weird”

“So, it’s his fault?”

“Fuck.” Sighing you looked back down, where your feet had been buried into the snow, “No. It’s not his fault. It’s…I don’t know Mark. I’ve been weird, too.”

“Does Johnny know?”

“Yeah, Johnny knows.”

“So, I’m the only one that doesn’t?” He shook his head, “That’s not fair.”

None of it was.

You told him what you’d told Johnny, “It’s temporary.” Then you added on what Johnny told you, “Give it time.”

Mark nodded. He looked to the sky, caught snowflakes on his tongue, swaying back and forth next to you, “I’m really happy for you and Johnny, you know that, right?”

“I know, Mark.”

“Really. I mean it, like, so much.” He looked directly at you. Mark stopped moving to catch your attention, to make sure you were paying attention, just like Johnny did. You wondered how much influence you’d all had on him over all these years. Mark was only thirteen when you’d met him, “I think it’s really a good thing and I know what Jaehyun said, it’s messed up that you know he said it, but I don’t want that to stop you guys.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re all adults.” Part of you wanted to argue, wanted to coddle and coo at Mark like you always had, but you let him continue, “I think Johnny…I think he might really be, like, into you. In a really solid way, you know?”

Watching Mark dance around the subject made your heart swell, made your palms sweat despite the cold. He gnawed at his lip, doing everything he could not to steal the words from Johnny, take away from a moment that wasn’t his. Mark looked away when you agreed, “Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

“I think…I mean, life doesn’t stop changing. I don’t know what I’m doing after I graduate, Jaemin doesn’t even know if he is graduating and-” Mark stopped himself, centered himself and went on, “You guys are my family. You’re my one constant, like, ever. I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t think you’ll tell me, but I need all three of you.”

There was a pressure building, unstoppable the way it rushed in. A pressure disguised as promises you didn’t know if you’d be able to keep. You promised Mark that you wouldn’t let a rift become a tear, a tear become a black hole that took everything in a blink. You didn’t know if there was any way you could stop it; you didn’t think that you could.

“I’ll do my best, Mark.” Your voice was hushed, lost in the wind, “I promise, I’m doing my best.”

He added, “You don’t have to stay or do something you don’t want to, just because of me, though. Or Jaehyun.”

“I know.”

“But, if it doesn’t work out between you and Johnny, let it be because of something real.” Mark grinned when he said, “Johnny listens to Imagine Dragons, that might be something.”

📻

Johnny thought to say it, when January passed by in a flurry, in blustery days, in snowstorms. He thought to tell you when his hands were wrapped around you, holding to his chest in your bathtub. The water was cooling, his hands had wrinkled and you were calm, comfortable against him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, peppering kisses and whispering praise. He could’ve slipped in three more words, eight more letters and thought nothing of it.

Johnny would think about nothing else until he did.

His fingers ran down your arms, where they rested at your hips and took your hands in his. He found his voice and a substitute praise to whisper, “I love the way you smell, babe.”

You giggled, his breath fanning over your cooling skin and tickling your neck, “We smell the same most of the time. You always use my soap.”

“Mhm. So I can smell you on me all day.”

Johnny scraped his teeth where his lips lingered, found a spot to mark and remind you he’d been there. You moaned, sinking further into him, “Johnny.”

Another substitute, “I love the way you say my name.”

He thought of saying it at Doyoung’s birthday dinner, surrounded by your friends in the dim light of the restaurant. Your lips were red, again, begging to be kissed and with every drink he took, he was finding it harder and harder to stop himself. Johnny was quickly running out of options that weren’t confess or kiss her.

When you smiled - when you clapped your hands and threw your head back at something Ten had said or done that was lost on Johnny - all he wanted to do was sweep you up and away. He wanted to stop the conversation, to draw attention, to make a scene just so he could tell you everything he was feeling. Johnny wanted to steal Doyoung’s thunder and face the consequences of that, later.

Instead, he let a smile stretch his face until it ached, he let his lips come close to your ear so he could tell you, “I love your smile, baby.”

You hadn’t heard him, boisterous and blissful amongst your friends. Johnny would let the moment fade, he’d take the loss of a confession just to see you smile like that. January had started in a haze and you’d worked so hard to come out of it, Johnny only wanted to keep you in the light.

Taeyong caught his attention, from across the table. Taeyong could see it written all over Johnny’s face. He took a sip of his drink and grinned, mouthing, “You should tell her.”

Johnny took another look at you and leaned back in his seat, miming back, “Not yet.”

He almost said it, in the candle light, in the ambience of your bedroom the night of his own birthday. When you’d handed him his gift and whispered, “Happy birthday.”

He was another year older, he might have been bolder, but Johnny was speechless when he unwrapped the paper and held his gift in his hands. You shied away, you tried to be subtle and gauge his reaction, “Say something.”

”How did you - where did you-”

”Taeyong painted them.”

Johnny’s hands wrapped around two canvases; thin black outlines filled with vibrant color, blending together and speckled with accents of silver and gold. Taeyong’s signature was at the bottom of both paintings, but your smile was the centerpiece of both. One of you and Johnny on Halloween, your wings behind you as Johnny held you in a blurred crowd; his armor was shining, not nearly as bright as you had been. You as an angel, you as his Juliet. Johnny as Romeo, completely enraptured.

The second one was from dinner at Taeyong’s; in the limbo between Halloween and Christmas, when calling you his was still brand new. Johnny was wrapped around you, guiding your hands as they stirred the pot, your eyes were only on him, perfect lips pulled into a smile.

”I told him to use his imagination.” You felt nervous; how you did after Johnny’s first confession. A strange mix of uncertainty and cautious curiosity, “He has reference pictures. Well, I have them. I didn’t know they existed until he showed me.”

“Baby.”

“There’s actually another one he’s still working on from New Year's eve. He couldn’t get it done in time.”

Johnny found another substitute, what he wanted to say threatening to spill out. His heart was overflowing into his throat, into his head, drowning out rational thought. Johnny didn’t really want to be rational, “I love it. I love them. I love-”

You cut him off, “There’s more.”

“There’s more?”

“Yeah.” Your voice fell, just above a whisper when you instructed, “Close your eyes.”

So Johnny did. You slipped the paintings from his hand, put them somewhere safe and came back to him. Johnny could only listen as you moved around, he could only tune into your breathing, the scent of your perfume and your soap and your skin when you passed by. You took his hands in your, sending electricity through his veins at your touch when he guided him to sit on the edge of your bed. Then, at once, you brought back all of his senses and told him, “Open your eyes.”

Then there you were; wrapped like a present in red satin. It was tied around your breast, a set that came to a close in a bow between them. Matching red panties hugged your hips, held tight to your skin.

“Unwrap me.”

Johnny was speechless again, breathless, thoughtless in front of you. The red fabric wrapped around your skin made his head spin, the scent of you made his mouth water. You were a brilliant present, a beautiful gift and you were just for him, “Baby, I’m…”

“Please, Johnny.”

“Come here.” You came closer, legs stumbling beneath you. Johnny hissed, hands on your hips, trailing up your sides, brushing over where your hardened nipple poked through. His hands pulled at the fabric, the thick ribbons of satin soft in his palms. When he tugged at it, when your breasts spilled out, Johnny’s mouth was helplessly dry, “My beautiful baby.”

He called your name, whispered it as he cupped your breast and squeezed. You moaned for him, sighed and pleaded for him, “Use me. Do whatever you want. I’m all yours.”

He echoed, “All mine.”

Johnny’s lips were on yours, a heated kiss, a clash of teeth and lips and tongues. His hands groped at any part of you he could feel; your tits, your ass, coming around to cup your soaking pussy. He pulled at the waistband, up to lift you closer, up until the fabric pulled and rubbed against your clit like torture; toe-curling friction between your legs.

“You're soaking for me, baby. Always so fucking wet for me.” Johnny slotted his thigh between yours, pulled you down onto it, “Go on, baby. Fuck yourself on me.”

He watched, mesmerized as you rolled your hips, sloppy and uncoordinated, lost in him and the feeling. Your eyes closed, your mouth hung open; when Johnny clenched his muscles, your vision blurred, “Fuck, Johnny. Feels so good.”

“You gonna cum like this? My Juliet is gonna cum fucking herself on my thigh?” Johnny latched himself to your nipple again, mumbling around the hardening bud, “Or do you need my help?”

“Need your help. Need you, Johnny.”

“You want my fingers first, baby?”

“Please, God, please.” In an instant, his fingers slipped into your panties and were buried in your cunt, wetness dripping down onto his wrist. Johnny’s lips switched to wrap around your other nipple, biting and sucking and pulling until you screamed out his name. Until your head fell back in a breathless moan, “Oh my God.”

“You're so good for me. My good girl, huh?” His words sent a shiver down your spine, Johnny was losing his mind - losing every sense he’d just been so wrapped up in. He was babbling every thought that came to mind and increasingly worried that he’d let the one thing he’d held close spill. He felt your pussy clench around his fingers, “Fuck, baby.”

“Johnny wanna cum.”

Three fingers curling into your cunt sent you over the edge, pulled you into a white oblivion and had your head spinning. Johnny watched you fall apart, felt your juices soak through his pants and felt the way his cock throbbed, painfully, against the fabric. He chanted your name, kissed it into your skin, until you came down shaking in his arms.

“Come back to me, baby.” Words spoken into your open mouth, coaxing and taunting and so full of something unsaid, “Open your eyes.”

Johnny’s hand held your jaw, made it so you’d only see him when you fell back to Earth, “Wanna…want you.”

“What do you want, baby?” Your mouth dropped open in response, eyes heavy and head still spinning. Johnny’s eyebrow raised, a quiet ‘Oh’ on his lips before he instructed, “Knees, baby.”

You slid off of him, knees landing on carpet in an indelicate plop. Johnny smiled down at you, holding your chin again to tilt your head upward. Your hands were shaking when they reached out to touch him, trembling from the aftermath of your orgasm and in anticipation for Johnny. His cock was bulging, the fabric of his pants pulled tight over it, and you’d never felt so desperate to have something in your mouth.

He watched your every move like a hawk, the way you unzipped his pants, how your hands struggled to find a grip strong enough to shimmy them down. Johnny held his cock in his hand, stroking it while you gazed up at him; entranced, enraptured. The head leaked, precum dripping from the tip when he leaned forward and tapped it against your waiting lips, “Open.”

You did, sucking him in inch by inch. Johnny held the back of your head, “That’s it, baby. Relax for me, let me in.” He pushed his hips forward slowly, agonizingly slow, almost screaming when your moan vibrated against his cock in your throat, “Fuck fuck fuck.”

You bobbed your head, Johnny helped to guide you with a harsh grip. He was moaning and moaning, head thrown back and still wanting more. He couldn’t close his eyes without seeing your perfect tits; wrapped up for him, spilling out for him, bouncing right in front of him while you rode him. When Johnny opened his eyes, he could see them still bouncing as you bobbed on his cock, took every inch of him that he could.

His hand pulled you off of him, gently and with a dazed smile, “Up on your knees a little bit, baby. Come here.”

Johnny pulled at the satin, used it to guide you closer to his hips, his leaking cock. You watched, curious and compliant, as he positioned himself between your tits and gathered the ribbon to push them tight around his cock, “Spit on it, baby.”

You did, drool spilling past your lips and landing on him and you, slipping between your breast while Johnny’s hips bucked up. He groaned, the friction just right, driving him insane. He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t control the words that came out. Johnny was too far gone, lost in you and in every sensation you made him feel, “Your tits feel so fucking good, baby. Love fucking them, love - fuck - I love it.”

Four words were easy to say, masked and hidden in praises. He shook, Johnny was shaking, wanting to say so much more. His hips lifted and fell, thrusting against your with his legs spread wide. He was close to cumming, eyes opening to see the way your tits bounced on his dick, “Oh, shit.”

“Cum for me, Johnny.”

“No baby. Not yet. Wanna…need to cum inside you, baby.” He was begging, helpless, “Please.”

You didn’t hesitate. Your heart was pounding in your ears, mind foggy and ready to do anything he asked you to, ready to please Johnny and see if the something that lingered became more clear. You wrapped your lips around his tip, one more time, sucking and then releasing it with a pop. Johnny could only think clearly enough to moan your name, leaning back when you crawled on top of him and took hold of his cock again. You coated him in you, in the wetness that dripped from your core and covered your thighs, his, the sheets underneath you.

“Johnny, look at me.” You felt like crying, you couldn’t place why. You wanted to see him in the fog, through the haze, the only clear thing in an oblivion. You sought him out and begged him, “Please look at me.”

Your voice was the only thing grounding him, holding him steady. Johnny sat up on his elbow, hand back on your face to focus you, “I’m here. I’m right here baby.”

“Hold me.”

Johnny thought to say it, then. He could’ve looked in your eyes, pulled you to him and told you, as simply as he’d like. But he stayed silent, he didn’t let this moment go. Johnny wrapped his arms around you, lifted you up and lowered you slowly, slowly, slowly down onto his waiting cock. The two of you were silent, gasping in air that was shared between the two of you, sighing names like prayers and promises.

“Johnny.”

He called for you, too.

“Move.”

He did, hips rolling up, “Look at you. Look at my baby, my Juliet. Can you feel me, baby?” He pressed on your stomach, held his hand where he filled you, “Can you feel me here?”

You nodded, mind obliterated, “Yes. God, yes.”

“Tell me you- tell me you love it.” He wanted more. Johnny wanted to just say it, “Please.”

“I love it.”

He thought about it, he begged the words to find their way to him. Johnny was so close; to cumming, to speaking. Eight letters took their time unscrambling, playing a game in his mind he couldn’t focus on. You held onto him as tightly as you could, panting and scrambling for that something you could almost place. Johnny fingers slipped to the front of you, pinching at your clit, toying with it, making your eyes roll back, “I’m close.”

“Me too.”

“Let me fill you up, baby.”

You nodded, you begged, you’d placed the something in the oblivion, in your whited-out vision. You found him and you felt it, “Please.”

Johnny came, white hot vision and white hot liquid dripping in between the two of you, spilling from you as your pussy clenched around him. His lips formed the words he wanted, but he was left silent hoping you’d open your eyes enough to read his lips. Johnny could only focus on one feeling at a time; the grip you had on him, the way your fingers traced shapes onto the skin of his back.

Traced words.

Traced three words he’d been gasping for.

Johnny pulled back from you, held your face in his hands - not for the first time, not for the last - and he told you, sweat dripping down his face, “Me too. I do, too.”

📻

On February 14th the world felt too still, too quiet, too lifeless.

You stood on your doorstep, on an inch of settled snow and closed your eyes. Johnny was on his way, he’d told you as much. Johnny was coming to pull you out of your mind, out of your comfort, out of the silence you lingered in. You waited, wrapped in his scarf and hoping courage would find you. Your fingers were wrapped around an envelope, a bright red envelope with his name written across the front. You had time, if you could move your feet down one step, then another you could convince them to carry you down the street. You could drop the envelope on his doorstep and swallow what felt like pride.

The wind was softer than in January, blowing only enough to rustle the strands of hair around your face. You silently begged for the blistering winds of January to sweep you off your feet and tumble you down the street in a gust of air.

You missed him. Johnny had done what he could to piece you together, to fill the space left behind. Mark, too. Even Haechan had been gentler with you, changed the subject the first time you’d asked and hadn’t touched it since. It was these moments, the silent and still moments, when that feeling held on; you missed him.

Jaehyun was another year older, Jaehyun was just down the street. Jaehyun was holding onto pieces of your carved away heart that you didn’t know how to get back without him. Your fingers tightened around the envelope, guilt seeping in at a memory from five days ago.

The words you’d traced into Johnny’s back, the words neither of you had said, but that you had both acknowledged.

You meant them, even if they weren’t ready to be vocalized. You meant them and kissed where they rested while Johnny slept, while you showered with him, while he made you coffee. You meant them and it was another terrifying change.

If you meant those words, how could your heart still hold so much space for him. How could you still feel pulled to the end of the street, to the moments in your bubble, to him tracing things into your skin; constellations, promises, words that he meant, too.

You felt your face cooling, a breeze chasing after a tear that rolled down your cheek. You weren’t sure your heart could break more; the way it filled when you were with Johnny made it feel impossible.

Johnny was coming, Johnny was on his way.

Your feet became restless, still and stationary for too long. They moved down one step with relative ease, hesitated at the next, resisted another until you were on the stone path heading towards your gate. They stopped there, another spot to linger, having done so much work to get this far.

You took in a breath; cool and shallow.

February 14th was unbearable.

You could see his house, see your breath in front of you to remind you that you were alive; you were breathing, you could move, you missed him. Your hand reached for the gate, the latch on it and pulled it open.

You missed him and out of the confines of your home, your yard, your space, that was enough to pull you down the street. Each step echoed in a world too still, too lifeless, too quiet. But, you were there, on the sidewalk in front of Jaehyun’s house with your hands shaking around a red envelope.

Jaehyun across the front.

Jaehyun in your handwriting.

You put it on the ground in front of his door, stepping back into view of the intercom’s camera. He could see you, he could see the way your tears streaked the blush brushed on your cheeks. Jaehyun, if he was looking, could see the way you whispered, “Happy Birthday, Jae.” before you turned and forced yourself back down the street.

Johnny was coming, Johnny was on his way. Johnny was on your doorstep when you made it back. His hands were wrapped around a bouquet of white roses, “You got me flowers?”

It was the first time you’d spoken, tried to speak, at full volume all day. Johnny smiled at the attempt, “White roses.”

“I see that.” You smiled back, heart filling, the space left behind overflowing in Johnny’s presence, “Do you know what it means?”

“Innocence and new love.”

You teased him, “It took longer than two weeks.”

Johnny came closer, “I didn’t account for holiday time.”

“Hm. That slows everything down.”

“Happy Valentine’s day, my Juliet.”

You stood on your toes to kiss him, to melt into him and take the roses from his hands. Innocence and new love. You’d meant every letter, every syllable, every word, “Happy Valentine’s day, my Romeo.”

Johnny could’ve melted; himself, the snow, the polar ice caps. He grinned and grinned and kissed you and grinned. Then, Johnny tugged at your hand and pulled you out of comfort, “Come on, let’s go.”

It was hours later, when the world was dark much too early, when Johnny was asleep in your arms with his head on your chest. It was hours later when Johnny had given you all of him and you’d done the same, opting for words written instead of spoken, words traced. It was hours later when you were close to sleeping that your phone lit up on your nightstand.

1:45am Thank you

His name flashed, it made your vision blur with tears. You sent back, 1:46am You’re welcome. Happy birthday, again.

Then, desperate to put pieces of you back together, you told him 1:46am I miss you

[Seen at 1:47am]

📻

“I want to tell her.”

Yuta leaned back into the worn leather chair, let it settle under his weight when he asked, “What’s stopping you?”

“Nothing really.”

Taeyong was across the room, paint splattered on his skin, his clothes, the floor around him while the three bounced ideas back and forth. He turned, paintbrush held between his teeth, “Something is.”

Yuta was brave enough, bold enough and furious enough to ask, “Did you talk to Jaehyun?”

Johnny eyed him, “Not since January. I think Mark is the only one that has.”

He knew that was only partially true. Mark was the only one who had seen Jaehyun since January, relaying information between the four of you and exhausting himself in the process. Johnny’s stomach churned at the thought. But, with the way Yuta watched him, Johnny knew it was better to proceed with caution; to keep the red envelope you’d left, the message left on read between you and Jaehyun and Johnny.

“What did he say?” Yuta pressed, “When you talked to him, did he say why they weren’t talking?”

Johnny nodded, he sighed, he confided, “He wanted a break for us, from us, until we figured us out.”

Again, Yuta led the conversation, leaving Taeyong to pick up the echoes across the room, “What did she say about it?”

“She asked him for space.” Johnny hadn’t thought too hard about the inconsistencies until Yuta titled his head the way he was, until Taeyong stopped painting all together and joined them, perched on a stool. They both waited for Johnny to catch up, “Just say whatever you’re thinking.”

“Which one is lying?”

“Probably him.” Johnny’s trust in you was unshakable, his skin tingled where you’d last put your promise - just in the palm of his hand, “But why?”

“He…” Taeyong hesitated, “He cares about her.”

“We all do.”

Yuta didn’t hesitate at all, he didn’t stutter or waver in the slightest when he sat up, elbows on his knees and told Johnny, “He’s in love with her.”

Johnny laughed. He didn’t know if it was voluntary, he didn’t know if he meant to. It had to be a joke, so he laughed without thinking too much about it. But, Yuta didn’t laugh - Taeyong didn’t either. The studio was silent, clouds covered the sun and Johnny froze where he was. He watched the two across from him, how they glanced at each other, “You’re joking.”

Yuta shook his head, Taeyong looked at his feet. Johnny stood, turned away from the two of them and tried to swallow the sick feeling that made his mouth water, made his heart stop and his palms sweat. Taeyong spoke next, “What are you thinking?”

“No one thought to tell me?”

“It wasn’t our place.” Yuta said it like it was simple. Like it was easy. As simply and as easily as he’d told Johnny he’s in love with her.

His fists clenched at his sides, rage in his veins to replace the overwhelming nausea. Johnny wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t blind, he would’ve seen it. He would’ve known. Johnny wouldn’t have, couldn’t have missed something like that if it was so obvious. He shook his head again, shook away the feeling and the thought, “Why the fuck is it your place to say it now, then?”

“We didn’t know how far this would go.”

“Fuck off.”

Taeyong tried to ease him, “Would you rather not know?”

“Yes. Obviously yes, I’d rather not know.” He was frantic, he was bordering on denial and deciding whether or not he wanted to dive head first into it. Johnny looked between the two of them, “You’re fucking with me.”

Yuta shook his head, “Think about it Johnny.”

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He didn’t. Johnny gathered his things, wordlessly, mind spinning, and he left.

📻

February passed by in a rush of celebrated birthdays, dinners you were hesitant to attend. Your message was left opened, read, seen for one week, then two. When March came all too quickly, with a sun that was desperate to thaw out the ground, the trees, the flowers, you’d found new ways to fill the gaps still left in your heart.

Johnny and the way he looked at you. Johnny and the way he kissed you. Johnny and the way he held you. Johnny and the way he needed you. He wrapped his arms around you and asked, “When did you know?”

“Your birthday. Maybe a little before.”

“Really?” You still had yet to say it, either one of you. But it was felt, it was acknowledged, it was so cherished between the two of you and completely understood. Johnny mulled over your answer, “I think I knew at Christmas.”

“Do you want to say it?”

He nodded, “I do. But, I don’t want to rush it. I think it’s good knowing it’s there, I think it feels good knowing you feel it too.”

“Yeah.”

“Right now, that’s enough.” The midday sun filtered in through, it pushed past uncertain clouds - ones that hung between winter and spring, bringing rain and snow in alternating drops, “Do you want to say it?”

“Every day.” You’d written it, tucked it away in your shared journal. There were three times you’d thought to give it to him, three times you almost let Johnny read it. It had taken courage to press it into his skin, to grow comfortable with the way that felt. The next time you’d offer him a new version, you wanted to be brave enough, bold enough to use your voice, “Every single day.”

He grinned, Johnny basked in the way you looked at him. He reveled in the way you kissed him. Johnny cherished the way you held him. He was drunk on the way you needed him. So, he rolled you into your back and promised you, “Me too.”

📻

Jaehyun stood on your doorstep, white knuckles wrapped around an envelope. He borrowed bravery from you, from the memory of you on his birthday. It had taken him one week to settle on a reply, two weeks to scribble it down and three days to drive down the street and stand outside your door.

He knew you were out. He knew he had time. Jaehyun lingered and waited and hoped you’d sense him there, that you’d come rushing back home just to see him standing there. The paper crinkled in his hands, folded and creased where he held on too tightly.

He’d always held on too tightly; he still was.

He propped the envelope on your door, borrowed bravery dropped at his feet, and Jaehyun left. Leaving his unsent message wrapped in an envelope, simple and lacking, for you to find.

I miss you too.

previous. masterlist. next.

[allthingsroleplay]

hi all! i’ve been working on a supernatural/fantasy site for a while now, and i’m looking for some friendly feedback and brainstorming! i’d love to create a space where we can bounce ideas around, build characters, and plot together. instead of a normal site buzz, i’m inviting those interested to join a server where you can hear site updates and share your thoughts. if you want to contribute writing, that’s totally welcome, but it’s not required! it’s a fun way to get involved in development while having early access to the site and connecting with other members.

in the server, i’ll post polls, ask for opinions, and share previews. plus, you’ll have a chance to start creating characters and hashing out plots! this could be a fun, low-commitment way to participate in site building where you’re directly influencing the overall outcome of the site. :’ )

some quicknotes:

supernatural/fantasy. vibes are varied; some aspects of the site are dark, gritty, gothic – others are more whimsical or curious. some inspo is one dark window, grishaverse, the poppy wars, the shadowhunter chronicles, etc. 

original world, set in a bustling city nicknamed the “city of a thousand doors” due to the portals, both known and unknown, that crop up around it. this is known as one of the most progressive places to live as a member of the supernatural; the presence of magic and different species is known throughout the world, but not all areas are friendly to the supernatural.

the time period is similar to modern times, but with a more old-world aesthetic. while there is technology, the “feel” of the world is more akin to howl’s moving castle, the grishaverse, the mirror traveler series, etc.

robust list of species with room to grow if we want! we have the necessary spn species (vamps, werewolves, witches) plus a bunch that are a little less common (sirens, imps, homunculi) and many more.

aesthetics-based rather than fc-based; while this may sound a little iffy, you can still use pictures of faces! there just won’t be any formal claim, and it allows for so much freedom and creativity. i’ve done this on past sites and it worked beautifully, but if you’d like more of an explanation i’d be happy to share examples and answer questions!

the vision is to have lore that is easy to follow, but gives a bunch of inspiring opportunities for plotting. unique and interesting locations for threads! juicy subplots that you can easily fit characters into! plus unique plot buffers built into the lore itself. i really like when sites give you lots of different avenues to explore, in case you need some help with ideas, so i’m really trying to incorporate that here!

a fun magic system that can be utilized in a million different ways, encouraging members to get creative! also, even humans have (optional) ways they can get in on some magical mayhem.

so many different subplots and factions that can help get ideas and inspiration rolling!

i’d like for this to be a public site, but those who are helping in the interim will have early access to start getting things going while finishing touches are applied, then the site can be rolling by the time we officially open!

we have a skin that is already 90% complete, so most of what's left to pin down is some of the writing and community aspects, which is where your feedback and ideas will come in wonderfully! 

so if you'd like to be a part of this community from the beginning stages and offer your input along the way while having fun opportunities to brainstorm and character create with other members, please shoot me a message on discord (sunsmitten). thanks a bunch!

[sonnyinthesky]

TW: health concerns, doctors being assholes, vent / rant, long text post

Worried that i may be developing tardive dyskinesia- im on antipsychotic meds and have been for years now, i take a very low dose but have a lot of side effects already and now im getting facial tics relatively often....tho i also get other tics so maybe its some other thing, but ALL my tics are centred around my head/neck/face area. I should see a doctor but a few years ago i was getting vocal tics and facial tics and asked my doctor about it and he said it was just anxiety and its "common for teenage girls to think they have tics because its trendy on social media" so idk. Hes not my doc anymore but i dont trust doctors to really listen to me about my symptoms.

Also been getting migraines all the time, bad pains each month, dizziness, the shakes, and seeing stars and feeling faint and nauseous.....most symptoms of genetic conditions that run in the family, such as diabetes, and pcos, and migraines. Again, i should see a doctor but-

My GP is transphobic and fatphobic and rather rude and ableist which baffles me since shes a DOCTOR. Shes also my mums GP and she constantly tells her she needs to lose weight or have weight loss surgery and that shes not really disabled (she has EDS, POTS, fibro, CFS, amongst other things) shes just lazy and using "buzz words" from the internet (shes had these conditions since before the internet was invented ffs, she just finally has words to describe her symptoms since those conditions weren't widely talked about until recently)!!! The doc also refuses to use my pronouns despite having asked me in the first place or listen to me when I ask about medical transition. She also refuses to acknowledge my chronic pain and menstruation problems (cause of my pain, its constant, and so is the bleeding....also pmdd) saying "all girls feel that way" (um sorry? No? No other girls i know spend weeks with excruciating pain and cant leave the house due to pain and bleeding for at least a week per month if not more. No other girls i know end up in a psych ward because of how bad their suicidal ideation gets before their period is due.). She also refuses to listen to my mum when she peaks on my behalf due to verbal shutdown in the doctors office and inability to make phone calls due to it triggering shutdowns as well, she says im old enough to talk so i need to be in control (i am. I control what my mum says on my behalf. I tell her before we go in what i need to say, and she relays that. I nod or shake my head or shrug to her so she knows my answer to questions. I have a system of taps or sometimes text her to tell her to stop talking or say something further. I AM communicating, i just shut down verbally and cannot communicate to anyone but her when at a doctor appointment) and she won't listen to what my mum says, and asks us to leave when i dissociate and ignore all attempts at communication when she insists i verbally speak to her (at that point, nothing will work, because i feel incredibly pressured and then wont communicate at all to anyone, and often melt down or panic).

^ and no, just cant get a new GP. My current one is an hours drive away because there are none taking new patients in my area, and im out of zone for all the youth services due to my town bordering two regions. If theres any taking patients then its either more than an hour away and simply impractical to get there when needed, or it costs too much to get an appointment. Not to mention my communication struggles are worse with new people, especially doctors, and ive had the same doctor since birth so :/

I also dont have a counsellor or psychiatrist because despite having specific funding for it, there are none in my area! I had a great one then she quit, and the CAMHS one fired me for not speaking (??????) and again, new people? Hard.

Fuck I hate this and my developing health problems. I was healthy my entire life, like i didnt even get a cold more than once every couple years!!! I always had mental health problems but never physical. Now i feel like shit constantly. It all started with puberty which is also when yk, doctors decided that everything was "teenage girl syndrome" or just anxiety 🙄

[natsubeatsrock]

Takeaways from Mashima Panel at NYCC '24

Much has been said about Mashima's third trip to NYCC. The stars have aligned for me to make it to the panel with him. I've been going to Comic-Con for years at the Big Apple. I wasn't able to make it to his second trip right after FT ended. Of course, it wasn't as if I missed anything special or potentially controversial.

However, I was already going to Comic-Con this year when Crunchyroll announced they would be hosting a creator panel with Mashima on the Main Stage. I made sure to register my spot for the panel the moment it was available to me.

So, how was it?

Overall, it was an interesting panel. The focus was heavily on Fairy Tail’s sequel. I get that Fairy Tail is easily Mashima's most popular work. He even admitted that it's his favorite for connecting him with people around the world. Still, it's weird to focus on only Fairy Tail. EZ just ended this year, he's been publishing Dead Rock, and he's designing the art for yet another game. Then again, Crunchyroll is streaming the sequel to the anime, so they've got reasons for this.

My biggest complaint would be the moderator. He is a fan of Rave, but his knowledge of Fairy Tail felt lacking. He had to be corrected by fans on the pronunciation of character names. This wouldn't be as big a deal if his company wasn't streaming the show. I don't know if it's a lack of professionalism, but I expected better from Crunchyroll.

Make no mistake, this was the highlight of my con experience. It felt like the whole event was building to this and it didn't disappoint. We got to sit closer to the front than other panels. The only rule was no video of the event. Hopefully, the Crunchyroll ninjas don't come after this post.

I wasn't expecting Mashima to be a big Ichiya fan. I get that you feel for different characters at different times. Given plenty of things, it wasn't the most shocking thing to hear he's Mashima's current favorite. Still, I wouldn't have thought he'd like Ichiya as much as he seemed to. He even said he'd try to get him on the cover of the next game.

I saw several people at the venue writing down the responses for every question asked for him. When I started making this post, I didn't intend to do that. It's not a matter of not caring about Mashima's input. I didn't need to write about every question. There were two questions about the ships. (Will the ships get more development and who should Cana end up with?) 

However, I would be remiss to not mention my favorite questions from the panel. Keep in mind, the answers and questions aren't exactly what was said. However, I've tried to keep everything as accurate as possible.

First, the question that has been getting the most buzz.

What inspired friendship as a major theme in Fairy Tail?

It came from my loneliness. I have no friends.

Yeah. I don't blame anyone for getting this out before other questions.

Some people have noted that Mashima has talked about his friends in creating Fairy Tail. I happen to believe one of two things are at work. For one, it's possible this is more exaggeration than not. He has colleagues and some of his former assistants have become successful mangaka. To that point, he's mentioned how motion sickness was inspired by a friend of his. While he might not be extremely close with people, he might have more people around him than he's led on.

The second opinion is slightly more tragic. It's possible that, in creating so many series, he's been further isolated from the friends he's had. He's been a mangaka for close to 25 years. For perspective, SpongeBob also turns 25 this year. (I went to their panel before the Mashima Panel.) I don't think it's impossible to be lost in his work. Even with his famed work schedule and light-hearted mood with assistants, it wouldn't shock me to find out his social life has suffered.

Either way, this puts the emphasis on friendship in a new light. Since Fairy Tail ended, I've noted that the series is about the relationships inside the guild and how valuable they are. No wonder Mashima writes this as both an incredible motivating force and near-infinite power source. If you don't have that in your life as much as you want, you might feel better writing in your work. Writers have written their wishes and desires in their works forever. Mashima's far from the first, and he definitely won't be the last.

Now, let's get to my question. 

That's right. I got to ask a question. If you went to the panel, I was the second question in the Silk cosplay. I made sure to emphasize my love for Natsu and Lucy's friendship. (Ironically, this was right before the questions about ships.) Of course , I also thanked him for his work. I can't say that my life would be better without his works, despite my complaints.

Are there any characters you wish you could have done more with across your works?

Master Zero (Brain from Oracion Seis) in Fairy Tail 

I tried to lead Mashima towards taking about Lisanna or the Black Airs from Monster Soul, but this isn't a bad alternative. Funny how the anime gave him the connection to Ultear, which I noted years back. However, we didn't see much of him after losing to Jellal in Tartarus. There's no real telling what he might be up to now. 

Does that mean he might show up during the sequel? I doubt it. I'm not quite caught up, but the Strongest Team is in a spot where I doubt he can be a factor. I say that and God Serena came back into the picture. Who knows?

Do you have advice for artists?

Grow in empathy for the world around you.

Creator panels at conventions are always good sources for encouragement for budding creatives. This is no exception. 

This reminds me of Mashima's position not to truly resurrect characters. Questionable applications aside, that's an easy way to show value of life. Once a life is truly lost, they don't just come back. {Insert FMA spoilers here}

There's plenty of things to be inspired by. Mashima has mentioned inspiration for Fairy Tail coming from anywhere. He could be going about his day and an idea would come for Fairy Tail. Personally, my favorite creative ideas come from the hearing or seeing something and adding my own spin to it.

It's helpful to go outside and engage the world around you. 

Gray has resorted to using Iced Shell multiple times throughout the series. When will the poor boy stop?

Eventually.

To Gray's credit, he's been better about wanting to die since the main series ended. It pains me to admit that Gruvia is an important source for this. Still, if he's not going to try some new kind of Iced Shell, Gruvia might not be the worst outcome possible.

Now, if Mashima writes the ship differently…

Will Romeo get more development?

If he's popular with fans.

This is similar to what I've said about minor characters over the years. That said, I believe you know what to do if you're a Romeo fan.

Is there anything you find hard to draw consistently?

One of Erza's armor, which he forgets every time.

This is another question Mashima has answered in the past. It's not like I blame him for this one. It's worth mentioning that he's never had issues with the Fairy Tail anime. Speaking of which…

Will we ever see the Rave Master anime return?

Mashima is more interested in animating his newer works, but maybe in the future.

It's sad to hear, but it makes sense. Right now, EZ’s third season is in development, along with the sequel. Dead Rock will probably get animated eventually. I get not pushing for another shot at Rave.

Then again, you never know. There are always surprising announcements for old and new anime. Maybe some producer and director are hellbent on revisiting Rave as an anime and we’ll find out about it. Perhaps Crunchyroll or Netflix will be willing to bankroll the production of an updated Rave Master. Time will tell.

Why Western influence for Lucy's magic instead of more Eastern spirits?

Mashima is a fan of Saint Seiya. In that show, there are powers based on the Zodiac signs. He was disappointed to see how his sign Taurus was treated in the show. He wanted to make weaker signs from there strong in my series.

Mashima really emphasized his love for Dragon Ball, but this was a cooler revelation. Saint Seiya has a legendary status among older anime. Seeing that it influenced one of the coolest forms of magic is interesting to hear. Maybe I'll have to get into Saint Seiya to compare the spirits.

By the way, the last question came from a Lucy cosplayer who wanted to know if the spirits were based on personal interpretations of the signs. She was disappointed by Cancer, and Mashima joked that it specifically was intentional. At least I hope it was a joke.

As a Capricorn, I love the spirit and wish it was used more. I still wish the Star Dress was a pantsuit.

One more question.

When did you get the idea to make the sequel?

It wasn't my original plan, but I was convinced to do it.

To the surprise of no one paying attention, Mashima didn't originally plan to write the sequel. It seemed obvious to me that Mashima wasn't planning to continue Fairy Tail after it ended. All indications were that he wanted to end the series and work on what would be EZ. The Century Quest didn't seem like something we needed clarification on. If you read the posts I made between the series ending and the sequel being announced, I figured we were done with more Fairy Tail. Dragon Cry would come out and we'd get the last season of the anime. Then, we'd be done with the series.

However, I couldn't have imagined what the sequel has become. It's outlasted EZ and might even outlast Dead Rock. The scope of even the first couple arcs blew the series more open than expected going into the sequel.

For all the hate it gets, Fairy Tail is objectively a successful franchise. It's one of the most well-recognized anime in the world and has sold millions of copies worldwide. Considering Fairy Tail's success as a franchise, it makes sense that the Kodansha suits would want more of the series.

That said, having more of Fairy Tail isn't the worst thing ever. It cleared up much of the loose ends left by the main series. Much of what we've seen is satisfying fan service. (The good kind of fan service.) Jellal’s close to joining Fairy Tail. The Gajevy twins are on the way. The return to Edolas was worth the wait. Even Irene’s happy ending was nicer than I expected. There are plenty of other things I don't like, but other fans have enjoyed. People like seeing the Edolas kids and Gruvia development. 

At the very least, Nalu still isn't canon.

In Conclusion:

When is Mashima coming back to the Big Apple?

[wordsofrowan]

From Ashes to Embers

Chapter 17 - I Know Your Heart and You Know Mine

I found myself hanging out more and more with Alix. I was grateful for her I truly was. Our friendship was pretty much the total opposite of the near-persistent nature of Alya. I didn’t feel as stressed or as pressured around Alix as I had Alya. But I guess that could also be due to the history Alix and I had. Alix had always been a good friend to me, and I was glad to know that she always would be as well. 

I also found myself spending more time with Bunnyx. She had said with the new developments in the timeline I would need some extra ‘pushes’ here and there. I was happy with it though and I felt better than I had in a long while. Maybe it was because Bunnyx knew my hero identity and my civilian identity or maybe it was just the reassurance that I actually had someone on my side, someone truly on my side that was giving me a sense of peace. 

Bunnyx had started giving me homework so to speak, giving me certain pages of the Grimoire to study and memorize. Mostly Bunnyx has been making me learn the history of the Miraculous and how it came to be. 

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow across my cozy bedroom. I sat on the floor taking notes on certain aspects I found interesting or noteworthy. The scent of freshly brewed tea lingered in the air, adding to the tranquil atmosphere. But my peaceful reading session was abruptly interrupted by the incessant vibration of my phone.

Startled, I looked up, my eyes meeting Bunnyx who was perched on my desk, observing me with her bright, mischievous eyes. With a quick glance, I sought her permission, silently asking if I could take the call that had so rudely interrupted my reading. Bunnyx nodded, giving me her blessing.

I picked up my phone, anticipation building as I saw the caller ID. It was Kagami. Curiosity piqued, I answered, my voice filled with intrigue.

"Greetings, Marinette," Kagami's voice flowed through the phone, her tone both elegant and enigmatic. My mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and questions. Why would Kagami be reaching out to me? What could she possibly want?

I took a deep breath, my curiosity overpowering any hesitations I might have had. "Kagami," I replied, my voice laced with a hint of intrigue, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"If you're available, I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to speak with you about a recent development," Kagami explained, her tone laced with a sense of urgency. Her words hung in the air, leaving me with a flurry of questions and a growing curiosity about what this "recent development" could possibly be.

My mind buzzed with a whirlwind of questions, each one adding fuel to my already intense curiosity. Why was Kagami reaching out to me? What could this development possibly entail? I turned my gaze towards Bunnyx, silently seeking her approval to venture out and meet Kagami. To my surprise, she responded with a nod and mouthed the words, "Go live your life, Marinette."

With Bunnyx's encouragement, I felt a surge of determination. Without hesitation, I agreed to meet Kagami, my eagerness to unearth the truth propelling me forward.

We settled on a quaint café, a hidden gem nestled within the heart of Paris. As I navigated through the bustling streets, the anticipation tightened its grip on my chest. What awaited me at this charming café? What secrets would Kagami reveal?

The café came into view, its warm lights beckoning me inside. I pushed open the door, greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the gentle hum of conversation. The cozy ambiance wrapped around me, heightening my senses and fueling my excitement.

I spotted Kagami sitting at a corner table, her eyes fixed on something beyond the windowpane, she had one coffee nestled in her hands and one sitting on the table which I assumed must be for me. As I approached, a mixture of curiosity and nervous energy coursed through my veins. What could have prompted Kagami, usually so composed, to initiate this meeting?

"Marinette, thank you for coming," Kagami greeted, her voice tinged with a blend of gratitude and what I could only understand as hurt, “I figured you would be the only person who could understand what I am going through currently.” 

The words hung heavy in the air, each syllable laced with a complex mix of emotions. Kagami's voice trembled, revealing traces of gratitude intertwined with the unmistakable ache of heartbreak. Her vulnerability struck a chord deep within me, igniting a surge of compassion and understanding.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice soft and gentle, my concern for Kagami now overpowering any lingering doubts or uncertainties.

Kagami's eyes met mine, her gaze filled with a raw vulnerability that tore at my heart. "I broke up with Adrien," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "And seeing as I know you had feelings for him, I thought you might be the only one who truly understands what I'm going through."

A wave of empathy washed over me, mingling with the remnants of my own past infatuation. Memories of unrequited love and shattered expectations resurfaced, reminding me of the pain and confusion that had once consumed me. I reached out and placed a comforting hand on Kagami's trembling one.

"I'm so sorry, Kagami," I murmured, my voice filled with genuine sympathy. "I understand the heartache and the heaviness that comes with a breakup. But I have to be honest with you. My feelings for Adrien have long since faded, and I recently had to end my relationship with Luka."

Kagami's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise mingling with the sadness etched upon her face. She withdrew her hand, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup, a small sigh escaping her lips. "I had no idea," she admitted, her voice a delicate mix of regret and acceptance.

“It’s not your fault, Kagami," I whispered, my voice filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. "I kinda hid it from everyone too, you know? And let's not forget the massive fight I had with Alya and the rest of the girls, resulting in me cutting them all out of my life except for Alix. So, I guess you can say I'm not really coping well either..." I trailed off, shaking my head to push away the weight of my own struggles. "But never mind that. What happened between you and Adrien? Why did you break up?"

A heavy sigh escaped Kagami's lips, her eyes welling up with tears as she began to share the painful truth. "I found out he was lying to me," she confessed, her voice quivering with a mix of anger and heartbreak. "Every time we were on a date, he would disappear without explanation, leaving me feeling abandoned and confused. It reached a point where I couldn't ignore it anymore, and the resentment started to eat away at me. So, I confronted him about it, hoping that maybe there was an explanation. But instead of coming clean, he dared to lie to my face, playing with my emotions. It was only after pushing him further that he finally admitted he wasn't actually in love with me."

"Oh, Kagami," I whispered, my voice heavy with compassion. "I'm so sorry. I know how much you liked Adrien, and it's absolutely devastating to discover that someone you cared for was not being honest with you. You deserve so much better than that."

Kagami's breath hitched as she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I knew him, Marinette. I truly believed that we had something special. But the lies...they shattered that illusion. It's hard to comprehend how someone can claim to care for you and yet deceive you so effortlessly."

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, I couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty knowing that that had been the same exact reason Luka and I had to break up. I squeezed Kagami's hand, offering a small gesture of support. "You're right, Kagami. It's difficult to fathom how someone can play with our emotions like that. But remember, it's a reflection of their shortcomings, not your worth."

Kagami's eyes searched mine, a mixture of gratitude and determination shining through her tears. "You're right, Marinette. I won't let this define me. I will rise above it and find the strength to move forward."

Kagami smiled warmly, her gratitude shining through her watery eyes. "Thank you for being my friend, Marinette. I don't know what I would do without you."

Touched by her words, I reached across the table, squeezing Kagami's hand gently. "No, Kagami, thank you. I needed this too. Sometimes, in the midst of our own struggles, we forget the power of connection and the healing it can bring."

We sat in companionable silence for a moment, the weight of our shared experiences forging a bond that felt unbreakable. The café buzzed with the sounds of conversation and clinking cups, but within our little bubble, it was as if time had stood still.

As I sipped my coffee, the bitter warmth soothing my soul, I couldn't help but reflect on the serendipity of this encounter. What had initially seemed like an unexpected twist of fate had turned into a profound lesson in empathy and resilience.

"I'm glad we found each other, Kagami," I said softly, my voice tinged with sincerity. "Through our pain, we've discovered the strength to support one another. Together, we can face whatever challenges lie ahead."

Kagami nodded, a glimmer of determination in her eyes. "I may have lost love, but I've gained a true friend in you, Marinette. And that means more to me than anything."

The café's atmosphere seemed to shift, imbued with an undercurrent of hope and resilience. The world outside may have been chaotic and unpredictable, but within the confines of our friendship, we had created a sanctuary of support and understanding.

As we finished our coffees, a sense of calm settled over us. The weight of our troubles hadn't disappeared entirely, but now, we carried it together. We had become each other's pillars of strength, ready to face whatever challenges awaited us.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee still lingered in the air as Kagami and I finished our cups. With a bittersweet smile, we exchanged one final hug, our arms wrapped tightly around each other as if trying to hold onto the moment forever.

As we released each other, a sense of longing filled the space between us. We stood there for a moment, silently taking in the weight of our parting. The café, once a sanctuary of connection, now felt empty without Kagami's presence.

With a deep breath, Kagami turned to leave, her steps carrying her toward her own journey of healing and growth. I watched her retreating figure, feeling a mixture of sadness and hope. Our paths may have diverged for now, but I knew that our bond would remain unbreakable.

As I stepped out of the café, the world seemed to have transformed. The nightlife of Paris stretched before me, bustling with life and endless possibilities. While I may have felt a tinge of loneliness without Kagami by my side, I also felt a newfound sense of strength.

I leisurely strolled my way back home, the weight of recent events pressing upon me. Countless questions swirled in my mind, each one vying for attention. Should I transfer schools? The idea of starting fresh, away from the painful memories, held a certain allure. Perhaps I could convince Alix to join me, ensuring that I would still have a trusted friend by my side. And then there was Kagami... If I could only find out which school she attended, maybe I could have both of my closest friends within reach.

A pang of apprehension shot through me as I realized that Luka and Kagami attended the same school. The thought of seeing Luka again, with his gentle eyes and soothing voice, was both comforting and unsettling. It was too soon, too raw. I didn't feel ready to face him, not when my heart still ached from the remnants of our past love.

As I absentmindedly walked along the Seine, the sound of delicate guitar strings being strummed caught my attention. I turned my head to the left and saw Luka, his fingers dancing effortlessly across the frets, accompanied by Jagged Stone himself. The music filled the air, creating a melodic backdrop to my swirling emotions.

My heart ached as I watched Luka, his face serene and at peace. It was clear that music was his solace, a way for him to express himself when words failed. At that moment, I couldn't help but feel a pang of longing, a yearning to be close to him once again.

As the final notes faded away, applause erupted from a small crowd that had gathered. I glanced over and saw Noemi, their eyes shining with admiration, as they ran up to Luka and enveloped him in a tight hug. My heart shattered into a million pieces, a single tear escaping my eye as I realized that Luka had found comfort in someone else's arms.

Overwhelmed with a mix of emotions, I turned on my heels and ran back to my house, seeking solace in the familiarity of my own space. The tears flowed freely as I allowed myself to grieve the loss of what once was.

Heart pounding in my chest, I rushed back to my house, desperate to escape the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume me. As I entered my room, I was greeted by an eerie silence, the weight of the day's events still heavy upon me.

But as I took a moment to catch my breath, I felt a strange shift in the air. A sense of unease washed over me, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. Instinctively, my gaze darted around the room, searching for any signs of the source of this unsettling presence.

And that's when I saw him.

Standing in the corner of my room was a man, tall and bald, dressed in a striking red and brown guardian monk suit. His eyes held a wisdom and intensity that seemed beyond his years, and he clutched a staff tightly in his hand. 

Fear mingled with curiosity as I cautiously approached the mysterious figure. His presence exuded an aura of ancient knowledge and power, leaving me both fascinated and apprehensive. I couldn't help but wonder what had brought him to my room, what message or purpose he carried within him.

“Who are you!” I yelled as I grabbed the bo staff tucked away in my room, “And what do you want?!” 

His presence exuded an aura of ancient wisdom and power, his calmness contrasting with the intensity that radiated from him. His voice, deep and resonant, filled the room as he introduced himself, "I am Grand Master Su-Han, the celestial guardian of the Miracle Box."

My heart skipped a beat, and confusion washed over me. "But I am the Guardian of the Chinese Zodiac Box," I said, my voice almost weak with disbelief. The realization that I may not be the true guardian after all struck me with a sense of betrayal.

Tikki chimed in with her gentle voice, "The celestial guardian was in charge of it before the incident caused by Master Fu."

My mind raced, trying to process the information. So many questions flooded my thoughts. How had I been chosen as the guardian if I wasn't the rightful one? And how had Grand Master Su-Han managed to track me down?

Seeking answers, I mustered the courage to ask, "And how did you come to find me?"

Grand Master Su-Han's piercing gaze met mine, and he explained, "A guardian's staff holds a compass that allows the boxes to be tracked at all times. It led me to you, Marinette."

A pang of jealousy and frustration surged through me at the mention of the guardian's staff. "Hey, that's not fair! How come I didn't get one then?"

The grand master's expression softened, and he replied, "You did not receive one, little girl, because you are not a true guardian. This is all a misunderstanding, and the incorrect shape of the box proves it."

The words hit me like a blow, shattering the trust I had placed in Master Fu and the sense of purpose that had guided me thus far. Hurt and betrayal welled up inside me, threatening to consume me. "But I don't understand," I said, my voice choked with emotion, "I thought Master Fu trusted me..."

"Fu?! As in Wang Fu? Also known as Whiny Chicken Legs Fu?" Su-han's voice rang out, almost screeching as he did so. "That incompetent disciple unable to spend one entire day without eating, or doing a thousand finger push-ups?! Fu should never have been a guardian. That low-life never lived up to the hopes that were placed in him."

Defending Master Fu's honor, I mustered the courage to speak up, my voice tinged with frustration. "Master Fu may have made mistakes, but he dedicated his life to protecting the box and the Miraculous. He sacrificed everything to keep us safe, including his own memories."

Su-Han's eyes narrowed, his disbelief evident as he turned to face me. "You speak as if he's some noble hero. But where is the evidence of his greatness? Look around you! The Miraculous are missing from the box. He's lost a Miraculous too?! He's even more incompetent than I thought."

Curiosity piqued, Su-Han approached the Miracle Box, a sacred artifact that held the key to the world's protection. His gaze scanned the empty slots, his fingers tracing the vacant spaces that once held the Miraculous. But his attention was drawn to one specific absence.

"Plagg? Little girl, where is Plagg?" Su-Han demanded, his voice laced with urgency and concern.

"Now that I do know," I said, my voice tinged with apprehension, "Plagg is with his holder, Chat Noir."

Su-Han's eyes narrowed as he further pressed the issue, his curiosity getting the better of him. "And just who is this Chat Noir?" he demanded, his tone laced with skepticism.

I shifted uneasily, feeling the weight of Master Fu's teachings and the importance of secrecy pressing down on me. "Well, you see about that..." I stammered nervously, "Master Fu said we must always keep our identities a secret. Even from each other."

A look of disbelief washed over Su-Han's face, his expression a mix of frustration and disdain. "So this is the Modern World? Protected by a group of naive children? Pathetic," he scoffed, his voice dripping with condescension. "A Guardian is never supposed to wear a Miraculous. Along with the fact that there are missing Miraculous and Plagg, of all Kwamis, is out roaming free! I guess the end of dinosaurs and dragons isn't enough of a warning."

His words struck a nerve within me, stirring a mix of defiance and doubt. Su-Han's presence was a reminder of the weight of responsibility that rested upon my shoulders. The legacy of the Miraculous and the protection of the world were not tasks to be taken lightly.

In a fit of frustration, Su-Han slammed his staff into the ground, the force reverberating through the air. "Enough of this!" he bellowed, his voice commanding attention. "Kwamis, return to your yin-yang positions within the box!"

“What do you think you're doing!” I yell out as all the kwami, minus Tikki, return to the box and He puts the box into his bag. 

Su-Han's eyes gleamed with a mix of authority and disdain as he pulled out a weathered book, its pages filled with ancient wisdom. It bore a striking resemblance to the Guardian Grimoire that Master Fu had entrusted to me.

"Let me remind you about some of the Perfect Precepts that you have broken," Su-Han declared, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of tradition. He flipped through the pages with reverence until he found the section he sought. "Precept 14: Kwamis must not live outside the box," he recited, his voice firm and unwavering. He continued flipping through the book, each turn revealing another transgression. "Precept 52: Guardians must never lose a Miraculous," he stated, his tone growing more accusatory with each word. "Precept 133: A guardian cannot, under any circumstances, wear a Miraculous."

The weight of Su-Han's words settled upon me, a heavy realization of the ancient rules I had unknowingly transgressed.”But Master Fu wore a miraculous.” I said meekly

"Precisely!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with triumph. "That just proves what I've been saying all along! Neither you nor Fu were up to the role of Guardian because neither of you has respect for the ancient absolute rules of our order!" His words echoed through the temple, the weight of centuries of tradition resonating in each syllable. "Not to mention the fact that no child should be a keeper of Kwamis! They are ultra-powerful cosmic entities! One must manage them with authority, which you are obviously incapable of doing."

"I would say I was doing a pretty good job of being a Guardian to the Kwamis!" I retorted, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. The tears threatened to spill over, but I held them back, determined not to show weakness in front of Su-Han.

He scoffed dismissively, his towering presence casting a shadow over me. "Enough of this! Take me to Chat Noir, little girl!" he demanded, his voice dripping with impatience.

Caught between Su-Han's demand and my own instincts, I turned to Tikki, her wise eyes met mine, flickering with uncertainty.

"Do you think this is a good idea, Tikki?" I asked, my voice filled with doubt. I desperately needed her guidance in this moment of crisis.

Tikki shook her small head, her red pigtails swaying with the motion. "I don't know, Marinette," she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of apprehension. "It might be best to do as he says. After all, he is the Celestial Guardian."

Taking a deep breath, I made a decision. "I guess you're right, Tikki," I conceded, my voice laced with determination. "But I won't let Su-Han dictate our every move. I'll find a way to protect Chat Noir while still fulfilling his demand."

With those words, I called upon the power of the Miraculous. "Tikki, spots on!" I exclaimed, my voice ringing out with unwavering resolve. In an instant, my transformation began, and I emerged as Ladybug.

Su-Han's eyes widened in shock and disapproval as he watched my transformation. "What are you doing with your weapon?" he bellowed, his voice filled with outrage.

I held up my yo-yo, a determined glint in my eyes. "Well, this is my bug-phone," I explained, my voice steady despite the rising tension. "It's how Chat Noir and I communicate, allowing us to coordinate our efforts and protect Paris."

Su-Han's anger seemed to simmer down, replaced by a grudging acceptance. "So, you do not have to send doves to communicate?" he asked, his voice softened slightly by curiosity.

I nodded, taking a moment to compose myself before leaving a message for Chat Noir. I swiftly dialed his number on my yo-yo, relaying the details of Su-Han's arrival and instructing him on where we should meet.

XoXo Rowan

[psiimaid]

okay so first time visiting on desk top and can i just say <3<3<3 ship cursor. anyway onto what icame to ask: do you think doc made mai do punitive academic work? what do you think her literacy level is? im imagining her having to write out words a bunch of times or lookup definitions and write them untill a 'perfect' replication. vicious spelling tests.

OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY buzzing and rubbing my hands together like a fly

under the cut bc while it’s not incredibly lengthy it might be annoying to scroll past

that’s something i think about a lot, and even more so in recent days so this is like. perfect. the ancestors fans hivemind is real

anyways little mai’s case is. strange. but the most analogous situations to a childhood spent growing up on the moon + not being around anyone Like Her + being locked in a room + abused and deprived of care do not typically yield. someone useful for what lord english/doc scratch need. however mai seems very intellectually developed! which means doc scratch is. doing something for her.

scratch said his lessons emphasized obedience, mastery of the clockwork majyyks, and (of course) being locked in a room. but these lessons (aside from the locked in the room part obvi) would have been the only socialization little mai ever got, and there is no world for her to explore and learn about through experience so literally almost everything about anything that she knew would’ve had to have been taught to her by scratch. so those lessons probably included a bunch of other stuff as well

okay sorry i think i started a little far off my b >.< but to answer your first question: yeah sure! it would be a good chance to stretch her brain muscles while also being unfun. seems very on brand

only communicating (or being talked at by, there doesn’t seem to be much real communication between the two) with doc scratch probably lends her a nicely well rounded vocabulary in that tongue, or at least a knack for deciphering meaning from context clues. i’ve most likely said this somewhere before but i tend to think mai had trouble learning to speak but that’s only tangentially related lol!!

as for literacy. i guess the question is what language? probably the one doc scratch speaks but what language IS that lol. like everyone in hs speaks english despite there apparently being an alternian language? urghh anyway considering mai’s job takes her everywhere and everywhen, realistically literacy probably. doesn’t help with her work. but neither does doc scratch’s language so. maybe she is literate and doc scratch sometimes lets her read any books that might be in the apartment?

homestuck logic probably says different and that’s fair tbh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

i can’t say i have a real opinion on her literacy level. if she can read and write, it’s probably not her strong suit? if she can’t, cool. she’s jared, 1900, never learned how to read. literacy, while helpful, isn’t necessary for the aforementioned intellectual development. but it would be really, really helpful since, again, there’s no way for her to learn things through experience. but then again if there’s nothing/very little for her to read.. the spiral

re: work her role doesn’t require strategic manipulation or a delicate touch (that’s doc scratch) so how much would really benefit her jobwise beyond those obedience and majyyks lessons ?? that’s why they were emphasized ig..?

but mai did have an ENTIRE childhood so i’d say anything is fair game!! there’s a lot to think about when trying to reconcile an at least mostly normally developed girl with her being raised in a very small world that would grow stale quickly, especially without anything new/stimulating. there must have been SOME enrichment in her enclosure and your ideas are a fun way to go about that!! pls don’t let anything i’ve said here make you think otherwise lol bc the things you mentioned are the Worst in a very mundane way that fit extremely well into what we already know

cutting myself off here ✌️ tysm for sharing!!!!

[bl33dingm3mry]

Heist of The Heart || Chapter 1

Deckard Shaw x OC

Word Count: 1002

Summary: Secrets never stay hidden for long but as old foes threaten to ruin all she holds dear, Sterling Jones seeks help from the most unlikely candidate. Ex-British Special Forces member Deckard Shaw.

CHAPTER WARNING: Swearing

A/N: If you have seen my stuff on other places (ao3 specifically), you'll know that I love to color code the characters. So starting here I will be color-coding them since it's an option! Now for context story-wise, this will be taking place after FoTF but before H&S. Because we love (Villain to Hero) character development. (And the distrustful enemies to lovers vibes....)

TAGLIST:

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the list!

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Sterling sat at the desk towards the back of the empty office building, impatiently tapping her fingers on the laminated surface, her eyes glued to the blacked-out phone screen in front of her. Each second that ticked by felt like an eternity as she waited for a call back from an old friend. Not like her entire existence depended on this phone call or anything. The voicemail she had left had been pretty clear, or as clear as she could make it without giving any information away to whoever happened to hear it. 

“Mr. Parker, this is about that silver jewelry set you left in our care, the items in question are too tarnished to distinguish the type of alloy used. If you could give us a call back whenever you are available, we hope you have a good day.”

Tej being the nerd he was would have no problem guessing who had left the message, he never was one for jewelry outside the occasional necklace or wristwatch. Maybe a ring if he was pushing it. On top of that, she doubted he would place them in someone else's care when he was such a meticulous person himself. He also owed her a favor for a job he had roped her into several years back, so the least he could do was hear her out. No harm in that right?

BZZZT. BZZZT.

The echoing buzz of her phone on the desk stopped her thoughts in their tracks, her fingers fumbling as she struggled to unlock the device and answer it. Seeing an unlisted number pop up could be cause for concern just as easily as it could be for hope. She took a breath, steeling herself as she answered, partially unsure who would be on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Nice try Sterling. It’s been a bit since you’ve left any sort of code call so why don’t we just jump into it? What’s so important that you can’t discuss it on my personal number?”

“Well I’ve got a job to do and I need your skills to pull it off.”

“SJ…”

“Tej, please. I wouldn’t be asking if I could handle this by myself. Besides, you owe me.”

The line stayed silent for several minutes as the other was thinking things over however the lack of response made her wonder if the man had hung up on her. Not that she could blame him. She waited, her stomach doing flips as she debated on calling out to him, however, she heard a sigh on the other end, relief washing over her like a tidal wave.

“You know I’ve got your back whenever you need me. Same place as always?”

“No. Not safe. Dom and Letty are moving out to the other place for the renovation, right? We’ll meet at the old house.”

“Is this something I should be worried about? Cause if you’re pulling me into some shit then you can-”

“Tej. I can tell you the details but it has to be at the house alright? I’m counting on you.”

Having said all she could, Sterling hung up the call, tucking the phone into her back pocket. She dug around the office space grabbing a pen as well as tearing off a scrap of paper from the notepad on the carpeted floor. She knew she needed a backup if they had been overheard on her end and she wasn’t going to actively put Tej in harm's way if she didn’t need to. At most all she needed was maybe thirty minutes alone with the man to pick his brain and lay out a plan. Possibly build a few devices to assist during the mission and if he chose to step away after that then she could handle it herself. She would have to.

Making her way down into the building's parking garage, she scribbled out a message on the scrap of paper “Destroy the phone. And by the way, no one likes the Tuna.” Satisfied with it, she made her way over to the tesla she was supposed to be driving. She put both the note and her phone in the driver's seat and set the auto pilot's coordinates to Dom’s house. After double-checking the ankle weights she attached to the steering wheel, she hit start and shut the door, watching the vehicle back out of the parking space and take off. 

“Here we go…”

Knowing everything was now out of her hands, Sterling left the parking garage, and headed towards the old sandwich shop where everything seems to have started. Even if Tej didn’t get the message she had left, Dom and Letty would know right off the bat, so she had no doubt that at least one of the three would show up to meet her. Most likely at gunpoint, but it was better than no one coming at all.

~~~~~ Sterling sat at the bar, roughly an hour or so after she had made the initial call, wondering what was taking so long. Presumably, Tej had arrived at Dom’s after her own car and discussed the off-the-wall phone call they had. Pair that with the note she had left them and boom, an instant recipe for concerned friends coming to pay a visit. Maybe Dom and Letty weren’t home? Even so, it would be hard to think Tej wouldn’t just call Dom and ask what it meant. Hell, it was Dom and Mia’s shop, their name was on the damn building. Not to mention Mia always went on to all the newbies about how the tuna wasn’t very good.

Getting up from her seat, she was about ready to give in and just walk back to her motel room. Fuck the others she could plan the heist herself. It wouldn’t be the greatest of ideas but at this point, it was all she had left and she was running out of what little time she had left.

“You wouldn’t be leaving without paying for that shitty sandwich would you?”

[bsksk5158]

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[asheewrites]

Well now we gotta know what the two big boys have to say about the twiddle foxy friend and who gets to keep custody. Heaven, Hell or Raphael?

Whistling, Raphael went downstairs and was barely through meat-assembly (rabbit today... it had been a well grown critter, one was enough) and in the middle of cutting some carrots for the creature, when his phone already buzzed in his pocket.

Unfortunately, he knew from whom it was, so he had to wash his hands and get the phone out.

It read:

'Hello Raphael,

In case of your guest staying with you, Hell needs to be contacted for permission, not only information, to avoid misunderstandinga about us holding an Agent of theirs hostage. Please contact me when you receive a reply. Until it is clear whether Hell will send someone to pick it up ASAP or allow it to stay in your care, keep it under strict supervision. It is imperativ that you keep it in the clinic, for its own and human safety. Please report negative changes in behaviour immediately. Thank you for your diligence in reporting this as soon as you had assessed the situation. Looking forward to hearing from you.

ꙮ Metatron'

... the manufacturer or the software developer probably hadn't shelled out for a Metatron's Cube as a sign. Why he would sign twice if it were the case was a different question, but well.

This...

He was glad he's washed his rands, because he rubbed his eyes before oinching his nose. This was just... well. It was not pleasant.

There certainly was no hostage-holding if the creature in question could leave at any time. Like any creature should be able to at any time. Not that most animals had a desire for this kind of thing when they were held in a reasonable state. Of course, the order to keep it in the clinic and under strict supervision at all times would turn this into some kind of hostage situation. But... he had contacted hell. He had been diligent and if anyone asked, he had the orders in written form in front of him.

Bloody hell. He just liked imprisoning people, didn't he. Favourite hobby. Kch.

With a little twitch in his brow, he sent back:

'Hello Metatron, I have reached out to hell and will report as soon as a message arrived. The fox will remain safe in my private rooms. Behaviour unchanged. Raphael'

There. Due diligence and all. Maybe he would need to build enrichment for the creature. And if he needed to add a new room to his place. TARDIS-ing his home. Or something. When he figured how that even worked. But angelic abilities could do more ridiculous things. Somehow creating more space where there isn't... the worst thing Raphael could imagine, so... he would see.

For now: Finishing the carrots, starting the celery. Stuffing the whole meal into the fridge upstairs.

And maybe he should look more into enrichment for foxes. If it had no choice but to stay, he should definitely look that up. Sure, the creature might be older than himself, and not actually a fox, but it certainly didn't talk to him.

Puzzle boxes for food it was! He had still some wood laying around... and about ten hours of time. He could make something to get... maybe dried meat hidden in the the next day? Cardbord boxes he would be able to find no find no problem. Maybe he could put balls in the bathtub? But a kiddie pool might be more suitable. He really did need more space...

Well. Off to work he was. After informing the critter - or, more accurately, the thin air of his flat: "Hey, my invisible guest, I have to keep you in here or at least under supervision for the next few days. Not my call, but you don't seem to mind right now. I'll try to make your stay more bearable." Nothing answered. If it had been the right time of year, crickets would have something more to say. So he sighed, but added: "And I'll call you Kazu from now on. Not very demonic, but it's a name, so, Kazu, good night to you!" It probably needed to digest the meat - and vegetables - anyway.

Off he was to the attic and... mh... if he cleared that one up a little more, that might be an option. For now, there was just some cardboard boxes to grab and bring down. And then... a saw to create a puzzle box. It could not be too hard.

...

When it was time to walk downstairs, he wasn't sure if he could simply not do math... or if the measurements were simply out of wack. Fact was: Nothing fit together. Better luck next time, he supposed. The fox would not be harmed by any of that. So he served breakfast: "Kazu! Breakfast's ready!"

Not that he expected a response. The waterbowl was full too... looking at it, and considering normal foxes... it might be nice if it was a well, always providing fresh water. Like with cats? But that was another project.

Downstairs, he greeted his team and received the customary hugs and his usual stack of correspondence. Mostly letters, the advertisements, bills and reports get already sorted by Amurel.

At the table, he found a thank you letter from a patient (with pictures), a report from one of his angels in more critical areas, gathering field experience, other correspondences he would need to pen down in the break and then... a letter with a sticky note.

'Was like this in the post bin, no one brought it there, but there it is. Be careful? Amurel'

Huh. The letter was a sealed piece of paper. 'To Raphael' it said, with a flourish. And, indeed, held no adress. Well. He photographed the seal to maybe figure something out later, if the insides weren't revealing.

So he opened the folded sheet and read the following words, written with flourish in blue, sparkly ink:

'Dearest Raphael,

Congratulations on your new pet! I see no reason as to why you shouldn’t be permitted to keep it, provided you feel confident in your ability to handle it safely. Unfortunately, it sounds as though its previous owner was no suitable fit - I assure you this incident will be investigated and the individual reprimanded accordingly.'

SHIT. A quick glance to the end of the letter confirmed suspicions, it was Asmodeus. SO. He grabbed the phone and composed a quick message:

'Asmodeus, PLEASE do not investigate OR reprimand the guy. They needed help and came here and we helped. And that could happen because demons slowly started to trust us. I did not mean to incriminate them, it was simply an explanation why I did not send the fox down immediately. They guy is probably punished enough for having lost his pet. And feeling in some of his arm. We don't need a rumor that the clinic rats people out. In whatever way there is. It's nice that angels and demons can meet here on neutral ground. Armistice is a good reason. If at all possible, just... leave them be? Please? Since they came here, they at least knew they did something very wrong. Give them a chance to better themselves?'

He really was an idiot for not expecting that. Asmodeus liked animals, for all he knew. And currently he might still make examples out of people. Aaargh.

Well, he still continued reading:

'As for your new friend, do be careful of its pointy bits. It may be foolish to assume without seeing it firsthand but I can’t imagine it would differ too greatly from an Earthly fox; they can be snappy when frightened and are easy to startle. Please expect a courier within the next few days with the following supplies, provided free of charge: 1 bag of DevilKitty Kibblez brand fox chow, 1 medium memory foam pet bed, 3 assorted toys, 1 enchanted safety muzzle, 1 collar and lead. In the mean time, I should think meat, fish, fruits and vegetables would make for a suitable diet. It may beg for souls of the damned, but those should be given sparingly and only as treats for good behavior.

Thank you for reaching out and please let me know should you need any further assistance. We also request pics at your earliest convenience.

Best wishes,

Emperor Pro Tempore and Great King of Hell

Asmodeus

xoxo As 💙'

Fish. He had forgotten about fish. And fruit, to be honest. As for the soul... he tapped his phone in thought.

'Hello again, Asmodeus. I apologize for the sudden message. Morale of patients is something I have to pay close attention to. Usually.

Anyway. I thank you very much for the allowance and the help for a new demonic pet-carer. I hope you understand that souls of the damned might have to be stricken from it's menu. If that is a problem, I obviously can not handle them. Angels and souls of the damned are not too good a mix.

For now, my guest still evades sightings. Pictures will follow when it has acclimatised some more.

Now, is angel blood good or bad for the critter. I don't mind being bitten in fear, but I don't want it to suffer from... holy-poisoning?

I'll get back to you when there is a chance for pictures or I am overwhelmed by fox-entity. Thanks again!

Sincerely yours

Raphael

P.S.: 'Pro Tempore' mh?'

For whom DID he stand in that comes back any time soon? But alright. More pressing was the question if the XOXO was an indictation for a greeting he... wanted? Hugs and kisses? He was used to them, but... usually from his team and not... well... the emperor of hell, he supposed. From what he had seen, it was not an actionable thing, but... why?

Anyway.

'Hello Metatron. I got permission and allowance from hell, no worries anymore. Raphael.'

There. Done. Therapy! Physical, to be exact. Some people were not meant to stretch their own wings in their corporation. They tended to dislocate their shoulders and screw up their whole musculature. Time to warm his hands properly.