#a few of the potential LIs that could unlock later also believe in love at first sight too

[radiantcircle-if]

💘 HEART W/ ARROW - what traits do they look for in a relationship? do they believe in love at first sight?

i tried to be more general rather than answer about mc but made a note if there's potential for mc to be their exception. answering the second question first...

believes in love at first sight: gazi

yep just gazi (atp) lmao now for the first question.

out of all of the ROs, gazi is probably the only one who is looking for relationships. they believe in love and want to be in love. they love love. they look for people who are fun to be around, supportive and responsive, and physically affectionate. they look for people they can trust, who can they be completely vulnerable and themself around, who love openly and honestly.

emotionally unavailable #1 césar looks for reliability, dependability. his plans for the night circle include him getting married, having/adopting kids, raising the next night luminary while raising the status of the night circle. if he's going to have a relationship, it likely won't be about love but about realizing his dream and goals. he needs someone at his side who has those dreams and goals as well and can be counted on to walk the path alongside him. if love happens past that, it happens (ofc it will happen with mc).

emotionally unavailable #2 rather than looking for a relationship, rafa tends to chase what's fun, interesting. if he's going to be in a relationship with someone, they'd have to be fun, they'd have to keep his attention and interest. he likes a little mystery. he likes trying to figure out an enigma. in his experience, he usually figures out people pretty fast, and then he gets bored and doesn't let them truly know him. if he falls in love, it'll be with someone who found a way to read him despite all that (and ofc mc knows how).

deniz isn't looking for relationship(s) but hopes that one day they'll find someone who is patient and understanding (or more than one someone, if they're lucky). they know they can get really into their work, that their tunnel vision and hyperfocus might make someone in a relationship with them feel lonely. they need someone who will get that about them and navigate that complexity together. if that means their partner also sees other partners, that's okay with them.

emotionally unavailable #3 noel has been content to live without a single connection in the world for a really long time, and she would be content to continue living that way. there was a time, when she was young enough to still live at home, that she thought she'd fall in love and get married and have kids. she doesn't see that for herself anymore. so in a relationship, she's looking for something that's easy, lowkey, unobtrusive, for someone who'll go with her flow and never get in her way (and mc knows how to be that).

[themaribatpit]

Saturday Challenge: Double Crossover

Written by: The Maribat Pit   Prompt: Double Crossover Rated: M rating just to be safe (sexual references, mostly because of some very unsavory things Lila thinks and implies about Marinette.) Marinette x Jason Phantom of the Opera (specifically Hush Jason, from 2020′s Death in the Family).

A/N (Maribat fangirl): There is going to be a lot of class salt, Lila salt and some heavy duty character bashing.  I’m going to be upfront, there’s characters being called harlots. A/N (DC fanboy): My S.O. and I pretty much did karaoke while writing this.

Paris, 1875. Marinette worked in her parents bakery, while she loved her family dearly, she was dissatisfied with her current lot in life. She wished to become a singer, and everyday as she walked in the streets of Paris to bring flour to the bakery, she would stop and stare at the Conservatoire de Paris. The enchanting music and singing could be heard even in the streets.

Listening to music always reminded her of her favourite fairy tale told by her father, the one about  ‘Angel of Music’. She would sit on the street across the Conservatoire, close her eyes and listen to the beautiful music emanating from it. Once she tried to sing along, but passersby would be swift to yell at her to stop. They described her voice sounding like a rusty hinge.

Upon her 15th birthday, her parents presented to her a once in a lifetime opportunity. They had presented her with an approved application to the Conservatoire, they had saved enough money for tuition and would be sending her there to chase her dreams as an opera singer. Marinette held her parents tightly, thanking them constantly for the amazing opportunity.

That night, Marinette was unable to sleep, she was beaming with energy and excitement. She could not believe how her luck was changing, how she would be going to the musical academy of her dreams.

The next morning however she would be in a nervous panic for her first day of lessons. Running about the home, getting prepared, packing her bags. She even forgot to eat breakfast, she ran out the door with a croissant in her mouth, much to the chagrin of her parents.

However, her dream academy soon became a waking nightmare to her. She would be tormented daily by all her peers, especially one Lila Rossi, the prima donna of the academy. Every professor would sneer at her low birth, and did nothing when the others tried to sabotage her standing at the Academy.  She tried to keep her head held high, even as everyone else looked down on her for being a baker’s daughter. Marinette ignored the comments and rumours about how she was able to attend the prestigious academy.  Rumours that she dared not repeat, about how she and her parents must be criminals if they were able to afford to send her to the academy.  

It wasn’t enough for her to be stuck in the chorus, Lila Rossi wanted to make sure her place as prima donna of the academy was ironclad. A couple of the teachers felt that she was growing more temperamental, more complacent, and their eyes began to wander for a dancer to take her place.  The other dancers were unwilling to take her place, all except for Marinette, who saw it as a shining opportunity.  For Lila, this simply would not stand.  

The one time Marinette found a pair of scissors that had been used to cut the laces on her pointe shoes.  The same scissors that were missing from her sewing box days earlier. She decided that the time had come to confront Lila once and for all.

Marinette confronted her just before rehearsals began, scissors in hand, in front of everyone.  “Is it true?” she called, everyone turned to look at them.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Lila gasped.  She looked down to see her wearing her worn out slippers, before looking back up at her face.  “You do know you’re meant to be wearing your toe shoes now, right? The show is in a few days.” she reminded her.

“I do,” she breathed, “I also know it was you, you’re the one who cut the laces on my pointe shoes.”

Lila gasped and stepped back, everyone else was shocked by the accusation. She looked away for a moment, and squeezed her eyes shut.  Marinette knew the trick well from their acting classes at the academy, she was getting ready to make it look like she was crying.  “Why? Why would you accuse me of something like this?” she made sure her voice wavered as she spoke, “what reason do I have to sabotage a background dancer’s shoes?”

Marinette knew she had lost the battle before it had even begun, every dancer would move to protect Lila and her crocodile tears.  Lila was the prima donna, the daughter of a diplomat, and she had the entire academy in the palm of her hand.  “Perhaps there was some mistake,” she muttered, walking away from her classmates rushing to defend Lila’s fake tears.  It was useless trying to explain that the scissors were stolen from her, and that this was an elaborate setup.  It was her word against Lila’s, as the directors tried to command the dancer’s attention, Marinette ran.  

Once again, she tried to keep her head held high, it wasn’t as if anyone would believe her when she told them about Lila’s machinations.   She made a habit of keeping her costumes and pointe shoes hidden.  On occasion bringing them home whenever she visited her parent’s bakery, somewhere that little saboteur would not even think to look for them.

Months later, tragedy struck again when she received a letter informing her that her parent’s bakery had been burned.  Her parents, her hopes, her dreams all burned to ash in one night.  It was made worse by the fact that one rehearsal, Lila snatched the letter out of her hands and read it aloud for the entire company of dancers and singers to hear.   She assumed that it would be some kind of love note, probably preparing to spread rumours about Marinette sneaking off into the night with a mystery lover.  Instead, Lila simply made a show of pitying Marinette, “poor thing, it’s worse than I thought.  Unless you can find a patron to support you, your days at the academy are going to be numbered.”

Just as the theatre managers had arrived, Marinette fled, keeping her head down as tears were welling up in her eyes and blurring her vision.  Since the day she arrived she had been mocked, humiliated, tormented simply so that one girl could have the adoration and sympathy of her fellow performers.  Through all the salacious rumours and lies, she tried her best to ignore them and carry herself through it all.  The loss of her parents, their bakery, and now Marinette’s hopes and dreams, it was all too much to bear.  

Marinette ran to an empty music room to cry her heart out, she sat right against the wall, knees curled up to her chest and sobbed into her legs. In this state of absolute despair, she began to sing a song of her favourite fairy tale that her father would sing to her whenever she had a nightmare.  She sang a soft, painful prayer for the Angel of Music and a farewell to her lost parents. “Think of me, think of me fondly, when we say goodbye…”, her singing was hoarse, off key, full of sorrow.

The more she sang, the harder she cried. Soon to the point that she could not complete the song. However, a disembodied voice sang the remaining verse for her. Marinette paused from her crying to look for the voice, it felt as if it came from everywhere and nowhere. It was hypnotising, elegant, enchanting. She walked out of the music room to try to find the source of the singing.

“Come to me, Angel of Music.” The voice sang, in a smooth tenor voice, luring Marinette as if she was a moth attracted to a flame. The voice led her to a musical hall, reserved only for the academy’s annual showcase. She turned the door knob, to her surprise, the door was unlocked. She peeked her head through the door to see a cloaked figure playing the organ, the source of the enchanting voice. “Insolent girl, this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory.” The figure angrily sang “Ignorant fool, this prima donna.”

“Angel of Music, is that you?” Marinette tentatively asked the figure. The figure stopped playing, and turned around to face her. Marinette was taken aback by the figure, he was a tall man, wearing a red mask on the left side of his face. Another distinctive feature other than his magnificent voice was the white streak of hair and piercing green eyes.

“You are unlike any of the fools in this academy. You did not join this academy for fame or fortune. No, you came here because of your love of music.” The figure told her. He took a deep breath and composed himself, straightening his jacket. Then he raised an arm, reaching out to Marinette. “I am your Angel of Music, come to me Angel of Music.”  Marinette walks forward and accepts the Angel’s hand, thus beginning their first musical lesson together.

Marinette’s talent and ability in music skyrocketed with her extra-curricular lessons.   Her mysterious patron was also the one continuing to fund her education at the academy.  Meanwhile, no one else had the time to spread rumours about Marinette, not when there were rumours of a ghost haunting the Conservatoire.  

Unbeknownst to Marinette, she was the key to establishing control over a very profitable endeavour for her mysterious patron. The managers were being extorted to the tune of 20,000 francs and requested that box five remain open.  This money was nothing to them, especially when the sons and daughters of the wealthy and powerful were attending.  Very few had seen Jason’s face, and if they did, they would draw back in fear.   It was the result of a boyhood accident that left him changed and altered in more ways than one.  Taking control of the Conservatoire was merely the first step in taking control of an entire city.  This girl, Marinette, was the key to captivating their attention.  She would hold their attention and adoration as the rising star of the academy, drawing their eyes away from his growing influence and power.  Using talents and potential that they had cast aside, twisting their own hubris against them.  

Months later, everyone in the academy worked towards its annual showcase for its patrons, the nobility and all family members of its students. Lila had grown bored of tormenting Marinette, and had moved on to other victims.  She had her other dancers and singers wrapped around her little finger, and all eyes would be on her at the annual showcase.  

At last the day of the annual showcase had arrived, Lila sat at her personal preparation room, after all she would be the star of the show. She walked over to her wardrobe and opened it, she then screamed in horror to see her dress tattered and in pieces.

In the days leading to the showcase the Director of Conservatoire de Paris had received threatening letters demanding 20,000 Francs, box 5 to remain vacant and worse of all to replace Lila Rossi with some baker’s daughter. Director Bourgeois scoffed at the threats, tossing the letter away.

The next day during the rehearsal for one of the ballet numbers, students and teachers paid no mind to the threats that were outlined in the letter. Until one of the dancers looked up and gasped in horror. The other dancers looked up to find the stagehand hanging from the rafters. The theatre soon bursts into screams of fear as they all see the dead body of the stagehand.   Director Bourgeois ordered all faculty members and students present to remain silent of the murder. This prestigious institution could not afford such a scandal this close to such an important showcase. As the Director inspected the body, he found a letter titled to him attached to the corpse of a stagehand.

Director Bourgeois read the second letter with shaky hands, it read “Monsieur Bourgeois, good day to you. It seems you did not take my threat seriously. I present to you this corpse to show my sincerity. I see you have a young daughter, pray that no harm would befall her. I shall reiterate my demands, 20,000 francs, box five remain vacant and Mademoiselle Marinette shall replace the harlot Lila Rossi.”

Director Bourgeois collapsed into his chair, wiping his sweat. Until he heard a scream from outside his office. He ran out as fast as he could to see Lila Rossi confronting Marinette. Crocodile tears flowed from Lila’s eyes as she accused Marinette of sabotage, purposefully doing so in front of the Director's office.  

“How could you Marinette?” Lila wailed, “Whatever your reasons, how could you do this to me? To the Conservatoire?”

Marinette merely said “Lila, don’t you stay in a private room with guards patrolling the hallway outside?” She shrugs, “I was in my dormitory last night. Besides, how could anyone sneak into your room at night, unless they were a phantom?”

Director Bourgeois goes pale at Marinette’s implication, he had to intervene quickly, before the situation got worse. He attempted to placate Lila, “Now now mademoiselles, I can’t punish anybody unless we have solid evidence. As the saying goes ‘the show must go on.’ Signora Rossi, as you are currently unable to perform, I’m afraid Mademoiselle Marinette will have to take your place.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the offer given to her, she could not believe it. Director Bourgeois himself offered her the star role for this year’s showcase. It is all as her Angel of Music said would happen. She accepted the role wholeheartedly and thanked the director profusely, she skipped back to the musical hall to begin rehearsals, now as the main lead.

Lila’s jaw dropped to see the director siding against her, how he gave away her role to that peasant without any hesitation. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, she stomped her way back to her bedroom to begin scheming the ultimate humiliation for Marinette. She was so distracted with her rage, she had not noticed a shadowy figure following her.

Lila planned to show the entire Opera house just who Marinette was, little more than a filthy peasant who got lucky.  She was supposed to have packed her bags and left months ago, after her parents and their pathetic little bakery burned down.  “This Opera Phantom had a lot of nerve calling me a harlot, when Marinette is probably his little harlot.” she muttered harshly in the darkness.  She searched the costume room for the lead actress’ dress, a long flowing gown that brushed against the floor.  It was made with the finest fabrics that money could buy, it almost broke Lila’s heart to sabotage it.  She would rather die than see it worn by some peasant girl, a pretender, a talentless sham of a performer.  Before she can lay hand on the dress to destroy it, a gloved hand reaches out and grabs her by the wrist.  A voice interrupts her, “What do you think you are doing with that?”

Lila slowly turns around to see a grotesque figure staring at her.  In the candlelight, she was horrified by the person she saw. The left half of his face was severely burned, almost completely disfigured. His bright green eyes flared with a fury that genuinely terrified Lila as the figure glared at her. She immediately drops everything and screams, as she runs out the door as fast as her legs would carry her, wailing and screaming how the ghost is trying to kill her. “He’s there, the Phantom of the Opera!” she wails as he chases her down. The Phantom pursues his prey. Just as Lila runs around a corner, the ghost is there waiting for her. She gives another horrified scream, falling to the floor and trying to crawl in the opposite direction. “No no no, please don't kill me!” She begged as tears blurred her vision.

Her howls and pleas of mercy attract nearby students, teachers and guards. They all arrive to see Lila screaming like a maniac on the floor, alone and raving about some ghost hunting her down. “The ghost is real! He is real I tell you! He’s going to kill me!” she sobbed. As Lila was being escorted out of the academy, gossip spread like wildfire. Within hours everyone would be talking about how Lila had lost all of her sanity because of the ghost.

They had no other choice at that moment, the show had to go on.  If they wanted the night to go smoothly, with no one noticing anything strange or peculiar, they had to meet the Phantom’s demands.  Marinette stood there, centre stage, with all of Paris’ most influential in the audience. She began to sing her show stopping aria.  

As she glided across the stage and looked out into the audience, her eyes searched for the man in the red mask.  She liked to imagine her Angel of Music beaming at her with pride, without him, she would still be that sad little girl crying in the music room.  She sang as loudly and as clearly as she could, hoping that her voice would pierce the heavens clearly enough for her mother and father to hear.  

As she reached her crescendo, she peaked with an E6. Her voice echoed across the entire hall with the sharpness and perfection of a veteran soprano singer. The audience collective dropped their jaws at the spectacle. Marinette ended her aria with a bow, and the theatre erupted with a thunderous round of applause.  

Jason watched from his seat in box five, with a self satisfied smile on his face.  From that day forth, he would see to it that all eyes were on her.  

[maximumjinx]

Been reading a lot of salt. So here’s some I wanted to see in a fic.

_____________________________________________

~Ladybug’s Finale~

Marinette counted to 10, for the fourth time today. 

“It’s a chronic thing girl, it would be best to just keep the seating this way anyways!” Alya explained as the seating was arranged so that she sat in the back row. Again. 

Without her knowledge or permission.

Again. 

Lila smiled sweetly, sat closely to Adrien who looked mildly uncomfortable as he shot his classmate an apologetic look. Marinette wasn’t even jealous as much as she was annoyed that the class has decided to protect and cater to Lila without resistance or question. Lila explained her hearing problem had flared up again, but this time Marinette only remained silent. 

Nothing had exactly been the same since the class first turned on her. The heroine knew she had to treat Lila like a constant akuma, patiently observing for the right time to strike. It also helped to smother the hurt she felt from her best friend abandoning her at lunch, and their after school plans, and their paired project. 

Marinette decided to pour herself into her job instead. 

Down came the shrine to Adrien and his modeling, instead she would dedicate her spare time to finding Hawkmoth and ending his terrorizing once and for all. 

The class went to the movies and held a group picnic, without any invitation or notice to the class president. Alya claimed that Lila (who was in charge of invitations) simply texted the wrong number. Lila’s curled smile told a different story. Marinette blew a breath, rolled her eyes, and assured Alya she was fine, she was able to not only catch up on her schoolwork, but complete her work for the rest of the semester. 

Marinette won the two design contests she had entered a month later. None of her friends could attend the first award ceremony, as Lila had just broken up with her secret American singer boyfriend, and she needed their support. Marinette didn’t mention her second award. Or any she won afterwards.

Alya began to post Lila’s ‘encounters’ with Ladybug and stories to the Ladyblog as prime sources of information. She couldn’t figure out why Ladybug wouldn’t stop for an interview anymore. 

Chat Noir rarely saw his Lady anymore, since she patrolled frequently while he was attending his extra circulars and modeling. Even after an akuma, she would give him a sad smile, a weak fist bump, and flee before she detransformed. The akumas were defeated with ease now, as Ladybug had surprised Chat with not only new moves, but new weapons as well. Marinette had been attending extra training with Master Fu and earned new powers after all. 

Her cork board was covered in red string, sighting of Hawkmoth, crossed out suspects and more. Marinette was frustrated, but getting closer with each day. 

“Marinette why don’t you take a break? See if Alya wants to come over or maybe hang out in the park to watch Adrien’s shoot!” Tikki suggested, trying to cover her worry with a bouncy attitude. 

“Alya hasn’t texted me in months Tikki, let alone ask to hang out.” Marinette mumbled, still deep in thought as she examined her board. 

Tikki faltered, but refused to give up. 

“Why don’t you patrol with Chat for a change! You both haven’t really connected in a while.”

“It’s better that way. He’s flirting with me less and less and we’re both more focused on Akumas.”

“But Marinett-“

“What, Tikki?!” Marinette whipped around to face her kwami. Her eyes were glossy, angry and hurt.

“Nobody likes me! They don’t want anything to do with me! I may as well be the same as I was before Ladybug.” Marinette didn’t cry, but pulled a pained smile instead. “They don’t check up on me. They don’t care.”

The goddess of creation was at a loss for words. She looked warily for an akuma, but nothing appeared. Marinette took a deep breath, and felt the tips of her fingers go cold again. Her chest ached, but it was duller now.

“No akuma, you don’t have to worry.” Marinette half heartedly closed her investigation board, grabbing a black sweater on her way out the door. “We’re late to meet Master Fu.”

___

“You’ve unlocked the staff I see.” Fu noted, as Marinette began basic forms. “The last Ladybug to unlock that was considered very strong. And unforgiving.”

Marinette only hummed in response. She liked the staff, it reminded her of her brief moment as Lady Noire. Chat and her had so much fun that day.

“Master?” She strutted forward, bow extended. “Why don’t you train Chat like you train me?”

Master Fu was silent for a moment, Wayzz watching warily.

“That boy has enough on his plate without extra training added.”

Marinette wanted to protest that she was busy as well, but remembered her new free time.

“Besides, since I lost the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous when the Temple was destroyed, I decided it be better to only let you see where the miracle box is truly hidden.”

The staff stilled. Tikki looked at her chosen with piqued interest.

“Marinette?” The kwami tried.

“You lost the miraculouses with the temple.” Marinette parroted.

Master Fu tilted his head. “Yes.”

“Master, where did you lose the Miraculous book?”

“I lost everything that day, when the temple-“ Master Fu froze, looking at Marinette with wide eyes. She hadn’t dropped her bow yet.

“Fu, you geezer.” He chastied himself, “Marinette the book! Whoever had the book-“

Marinette dropped the bow, a loud vebrato echoinf around the room. She looked to Tikki with an unreadable expression.

“Looks like my chances with Adrien really are ruined.”

...

“Marinette wait- we still don’t know the full story!” Tikki yelled, from inside Marinette’s bag. But the blunette was already racing home, feet literally pounding the pavement.

How didn’t she see it before? She had crossed out most of the Agreste household, but if she could make is so that Ladybug and Marinette were in the same place, couldn’t they do so as well? Adrien isn’t Hawkmoth, she knew that much. Whichever side he took on Lila’s lies didn’t make him a villain, if he decided not to interfere or shake the boat, those are his own issues to work out.

Gabriel Agreste. The elusive, fashion designer. With an assistant that knows his every move in and out of a potential suit, his very own Mayura. He had the resources to go to Tibet, he had the book in his possesion, and if he himself wasn’t hawkmoth, he at least knew more about the villain than he let on.

“Tikki, spots on!” Marinette hissed, suddenly taking a sharp turn into an alley. A new fire was burning under the heroine. She would need Chat to take down Hawkmoth, she may need all the heroes. Tikki wrapped around her, without any flashes or spectacular poses.

Ladybug immediately took to the roofs. A call to Chat should be able to at least transfer to his kwami, even untransformed. She admits she hasn’t been as close to Chat lately, with everything around her she doesn’t feel like getting close. The people she believed were her close friends were quick to turn around and leave her behind. The boy she loved wasn’t what she built him up to be, this was her own fault, she knew that.

But Chat, he was the partner Fu chose, he took things less seriously than he should, and Marinette believed it was because she had let him for too long. She liked the banter they had back and forth, liked being able to talk to someone without worrying about what they thought about Marinette. She was a spaz, she was late, she was disorganized, and she was cowardly. But that was different now, she had to grow up. So she did.

Now wasn’t the time for anymore games.

~

“Kid, Ladybug is trying to contact you.”

Plagg was resting on Adrien’s pillow as his chose sat at the desk, practicing his Mandarin. Plagg has been around for eons, and knew every language there is to know, even the dead ones. He had lived through them after all. The kwami was correcting Adrien on his pronounciation.

His chosen jumped up, eyes wide.

“She is?”

“Wait- don’t get too excited it might be-”, Plagg couldn’t finish, suddenly transforming Adrien in a rush. Damn it, he hated when his kittens didn’t let him speak.

Chat Noir on the other hand, was estatic.

“I should get her flowers, we haven’t had any time to hang out. She hasn’t been looking like herself lately.”

It was true, Ladybug had gotten a few upgrades on her suit, but even Chat had noticed how much black had bled into the classic polka dot design. He wasn’t too worried, he himself was covered in the color. But the black was now covering her legs to her thigh, her chest and upper back was now covered in a thin but incredibly strong black armored plate. She had a hood now too, entirely red that she kept loose for the most part, but he had seen up and around her face during nightly patrols. Lastly, she now had a belt, to hold her yoyo and what he guessed a bag full of special transformations for her kwami.

The change was gradual, new things here and there, but startling all the same.

Chat decided to skip the flowers. As much as he loved Ladybug, he knew lately she wasn’t responding to his advances. There was a part of him that wanted to be bitter and try harder, but after weeks of having Lila forcibly hanging on his arm, he could guess why Ladybug wanted the space. He was still dealing with taking the distance as a place to let them both breathe, and not as a form of rejection.

He arrived to his Lady’s location, and noticed her hood was up. He suddenly felt uneasy. The sun was only setting, so why have it up now?

“Hey there Bug-“ he wanted so badly to finish it with ‘-aboo’, but pushed it back.

She turned around to face him, and he saw a new change. Her mask had turned into a visor, the black dots still in place, and bending around her nose like glasses. It looked more efficient at protecting her eyes than the last mask. Also, her hair was loose. It was tucked into her hood, with small pieces framing her face and resting on her shoulders.

She wasn’t smiling, but looked worried.

“Ladybug?” Chat felt uneasy with the look on her face.

Ladybug steeled herself, “I think I know who Hawkmoth is and we need a plan.”

Chat looked alarmed.

“You figured it out? What are we waiting for!”

“Wait Chat,” Ladybug placed an hand on his shoulder, “we could need the other miraculous holders. And we need to look more into the suspect. I might have a way in with my civilian identity but we need to do this carefully.”

Chat faltered. His lady would never risk her personal identity, he’s mentioned before she has too many loved ones to protect. Has that somehow changed?

“Can you at least tell me who it is?”

Ladybug looked at Chat carefully, and sighed.

“The guardian and I were talking when I realized it.” Chat tried not to let her regular meetings with Fu sting, “Master Fu lost the peacock and butterfly miraculous back at the temple in tibet. He also lost several artifacts from his temple, and the book of miraculous.”

Chat could feel breath begin to come out shallow, heart racing in his chest.

“So whoever found the book, must have found the miraculous.” He finished. “Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth.”

“Or Gabriel Agreste somehow got the book from Hawkmoth.” Ladybug wasn’t sure about that theory, but she couldn’t accuse him without better proof again.

Chat Noir disagreed. He found the book with a few belongings of his mother, and a map of Tibet. His father was never the same after his mom disappeared. A thought occured to him.

His eyes widened, “Mayura-“

“Might be Gabriel’s assistant Nathalie Sancouer, yes.” Ladybug didn’t appear angry or determined to track these two down. Instead it looked like it pained her to realize the truth. Perhaps she was mimicking Chat’s own emotions.

Chat looked at his Lady. Obviously she had been going through a few things. Bad things. And if she was willing to risk her identity when unknowning there was a better candidate for undercover work beside her, Chat knew she could trust her with his identity. He always knew that.

“Ladybug, I know it’s important to keep our identites a secret, and I’m not sure how you would even try to investigate out of the suit, but you have to know something first.” Chat took a step back.

“What are you-“

“You don’t have to reveal yourself to me. I know how important your own identity is to you. But there’s an easier way to get to Agreste.” He took a deep breath. “We have to use Adrien.”

Ladybug’s face shifted to disbelief, then to anger.

“We won’t put a civilian in danger! And he didn’t handle the Snake miraculous well, we would be sending him in without any protection!” She barked.

Chat smiled humorlessly.

“I think he can handle himself.” He was risking everything. But with everything his father might have done, it was his job to make it right. “Claws in.”

He heard his partner shriek, and quickly cover her eyes.

“Chat now is not the time! What makes you think your civilian identity can get closer to Adrien or Gabriel than mine?”

“Because I live under the same roof.” Adrien thought for a moment. “And I’m not Gorilla- in case you had any doubts.”

Ladybug’s mouth dropped, hand trembling over her eyes. She didn’t want to look.

“Adrien?” She asked shakily, still unable to remove her palm. She felt long fingers carefully wrap around her own, and gently pry her hand away.

Adrien Agreste stood on a roof in pajama pants and a hoodie, hair messed up from the wind, and a sheepish smile on his face.

“Hey LB.”

—-

[straykidsupdate]

Stray Kids Make Their Mark In NYC With World Tour "District 9: Unlock"

Nestled underneath the majestic Madison Square Garden in New York City lies Hulu Theater — a smaller, more intimate performance venue where every seat is given a front-row view. It's here, on January 29, 2020, where Stray Kids began their journey across the USA for Stray Kids World Tour "District 9: Unlock."

Bright lights on the ceiling of the venue illuminated the crowd below, but it's nothing compared to the hundreds of Stray Kids lightsticks, coined najimbongs, that many in the audience held in their hands. Fans sang along to Stray Kids songs while they waited in anticipation for the 8 idols to take the stage.

A theatrical VCR introduced the start of the show, much to the audience's delight. Screams grew louder as their biases appeared on the screen, and peaked when the screens separated to reveal Stray Kids. They were there. They were real. Yes, it was absolutely happening.

If you thought this would be an easy-going, relaxing concert — do we have news for you! Energy levels began at 325% right off the bat as Stray Kids jumped into a remix of "District 9." And yes, the song can go harder than it already does. The momentum never stopped as they continue on with "Victory Song," "Question," a remix of "Rock," an epic dance break that made its last appearance at KCON LA, and the iconic "Side Effects." We have to commend these boys and their energy: there were no breaks in between these high-impact performances.

"We worked really hard to unlock this world tour for you," Changbin shared after the group made their cheery introductions to the crowd. It was no lie — just within eight months since Stray Kids held their last USA tour, the group has accomplished so much. Seeing their fans, known as Stay, as many times as they can is unmistakably one of their top priorities. How can you tell? If you've seen the way their eyes shine as they stare into the audience, you wouldn't doubt the love they have for Stay one bit.

To counter the tenacious impact of their first few stages, Stray Kids brought about a chiller, more laid-back atmosphere with "M.I.A." Though no choreography accompanied this performance, Felix surprised the crowd by dancing to "Renegade," a dance trend that went viral on video-based social networking app TikTok. This is one honorable mention from the show that will go down in Stray Kids history.

The first unit stage followed — Hyunjin, Lee Know, and Felix wowed the crowd with a deeply seductive performance to "Wow." Yes, abs were involved (thank you, Felix). The trio, known to fans as Danceracha, effortlessly dominated the stage with their presence. Leader Bang Chan later designated their performance as "sexy time," and we have yet to see the lie in that statement.

"Mixtape #4" was the next song off the setlist, and many were not prepared for the emotions that the song brought: with its lyrics, Stray Kids assure us to keep moving forward despite difficulties that we may face and to know that although we might feel alone, we never really are. During Felix's rap, Stay united as one as they shouted: "Stray Kids nine or none, we're gonna cross the finish line," though there were only eight standing on stage. The amount of love and adoration held in the venue visibly grew after that point.

It was time to "Get Cool," and what better way to fill the "Awkward Silence" than with the fun, cheeky performances that followed next? Members chased and tickled each other — youngest member I.N. being the most popular target — and interacted with the crowd during these upbeat, cheerful tracks. It's moments like these were the relationship between Stray Kids and Stay truly show their colors — not only through the laughs shared or cheers exchanged but also through the concerned gasps from the crowd as they watched Hyunjin fake-throw Seungmin into the audience. But hey, I'm sure Stay would have caught him if it really happened, right?

Let's take a moment to think about the VCR that played next. Picture this: Stray Kids take to the streets, wielding weapons and destroying virtual buildings in the most magnificent way possible. Is this symbolism for Stray Kids fighting the system, taking it into their own hands, and building a district of their own? Or is it purely just a group of eight boys wanting to destroy things for fun? Either way, we're all for Stray Kids world domination.

But on the real, the true message that Stray Kids wanted to share came to light in their performance of "Levanter." Stray Kids isn't just the name of their group; it's what they represent. Reflecting on the words both seen in the VCR and spoken by the members, there are lost kids all around the world just trying to find their footing. Together, step by step, they can pave a road to move forward. Here lies the strength echoed in the words, "Stray kids everywhere all around the world."

Sentimental moments were followed by soft ones as vocalists Seungmin and I.N. reappeared on stage in baby blue accented outfits, serenading the crowd during "My Universe." Just as Danceracha appeared for their unit stage earlier in the show, this was Vocalracha's time to shine. Special shoutout to Changbin for his rap verse appearance — though his vocals could potentially land him a spot in Vocalracha, don't you think?

The eight members continued their serene mood with a performance of "Third Eye," complete with the smooth use of chairs as props in their choreography. Chairs made the choreography more dynamic, playing with levels changes and strategic placements that brought the performance to the next level of satisfaction. Speaking of satisfying, Felix's deep-toned rap over nothing but a heavy, rhythmic bass drum is something we can listen to over and over again.

Stray Kids then transitioned into a straight line formation, basked in a cool light as a ballad accompaniment of "I Am You" played softly in the background. Experiencing this song without the choreography gives Stay a completely new perspective of the performance, filled with more emotion and connection than can be explained by words. The feelings intensified as Stay joined Stray Kids with the words "Stay together, you and I."

Stray Kids gave Stay the ultimate whiplash as the stage flipped into one of the most chaotically satisfying performances of the night: 3RACHA finally made their appearance. Basked in red lights (a warning, perhaps?) and dressed in leather detailed jackets, Bang Chan, Changbin, and Han lit the stage on fire with their performance of "We Go." Equal parts playful and chaotic, this unit, formed even before Stray Kids' official debut, really knows how to serve the heat - they're 3RACHA after all.

Following the wave of intensity that 3RACHA SUMMONED, the group reunited as eight on stage to perform a remix of "Road Not Taken" and an extended dance version of "My Pace." They take a moment afterwards to chat and interact with the audience. Han, being the overly excited delight that he is, fumbled with his words as he spoke. He laughed it off by apologizing to the translator, admitting he was too excited.

"I've never heard Stay scream this loud before," Bang Chan shared with the audience, "but I've never heard Felix scream so loud!" Felix laughed along with the entire venue in defeat — apparently, his excitement had gotten the better of him as well.

Changbin's comment felt all too real: "We want to be happy every day, but that's not always possible," he starts, "but I believe we can overcome these things and those hardships will pass like the wind." Bang Chan echoed his words, thanking Stay for their kind comments and for always staying by Stray Kids' side, which in turn started a chant of "we love you's" from the audience. The chant turned into a competition when Stray Kids started saying "we love Stay" in return. Who will win this exchange of love? We'll let you know (if it ever ends at all).

"Make sure to tie your shoelaces twice!" Bang Chan exclaimed as they jumped into "Double Knot." (Does he write his own material? Genius). Just like the beginning of the show, their energy stayed top tier as they lead into "Boxer" and their debut song "Hellevator." The stage production and background VCR for "Hellevator" was extremely impactful, using first-person point of view to transform the theater into a completely different world. It felt like a 3d virtual reality game where Stay accompanied Stray Kids on a journey through the fire and rubble, making their way out of this "Hellevator" together.

Stray Kids' performance to "Miroh" was taken to new levels with the introduction of drums, both as props and a backing beat to the hard-hitting instrumentals that ignite the chorus. An extended dance break made the stage even more exciting, but it also made us wonder how they're still jumping with so much energy. JYP, tell us your secrets, we beg of you.

And just when you thought this concert couldn't get any cuter, the next VCR introduced an interactive game. With games, came prizes — this one being Stray Kids returning to the stage for more performances. The premise of the game was simple: a Stray Kids song played while 8-bit icons appeared in beat at the bottom of the screen. When a clapping icon appeared, Stay had to clap. When a heart icon appeared, Stay had to form hearts over their heads. And, in true Stray Kids fashion, when a dab icon appeared, Stay had to hit the hardest dab of their life. "Get Cool" was the song that played during the practice round, with "Miroh" being the main stage of the game. Cameras panned through the audience, focusing on enthusiastic Stay in the crowd and screening them on the large LEDs on stage. It was a fun and entertaining way for Stay to participate in the show from their seats and also a clever way to get a whole theater to "dab to the left" at the same time. Several members mentioned they were watching the audience from backstage and called us "cute." If that's what it takes to make Stray Kids think we're cute, we might as well play this game all day, every day.

The final stage of the game was "unlocked," prompting Stray Kids to make their way back to NYC Stay, dressed in tour merch and bright blue accessories — Han wore a blue LA Dodgers cap (in NYC? We won't question it, we'll just let him do his thing.) while Lee Know had a soft blue sweater tied around his torso. The lyrics to "Grow Up" appeared in the background, inviting Stay to sing along. There was something soothing about singing the lyrics together, telling each other that you're doing fine, to just take your time, and that you can do it.

The inevitable finally arrived — final ments. It got real deep during Felix's last comments. "Having to express our love for one another — It gets me in the feels and I really want to do so much more for you guys. You're the reason why we are still Stray Kids. I really believe in Stay."

Changbin continued with his own set of sappy love-filled messages. "Now that I'm here with you, I'm so happy and excited. I shouldn't expect anything because you always surprise me! Thank you, this is for you." Changbin shared as he threw a cute finger heart to the crowd.

Before their last two stages, "YAYAYA" and a reprise of "Miroh," Bang Chan expressed his feelings. "As long as you guys invite us, we'll be glad to come back. You gave us the chance to come back here and we were so stoked! We'll give you guys the best 2020 ever, promise. It feels like Stay is a part of our family — it was your show and ours today."

Here's something important for Stay to remember as a takeaway from their show: You not only make Stray Kids stay — you make them grow. You make them succeed. You make them happy. This fan-idol relationship? It's a two way street. But it's a street that Stray Kids and Stay gravitate towards so effortlessly and make their home.

Thank you to SubKulture Entertainment and JYP Entertainment for the chance to experience this memorable night in New York City during Stray Kids World Tour 'District 9 : Unlock.' Make sure to keep supporting Stray Kids!

Don't miss your chance to see Stray Kids live on this tour! Tickets to upcoming locations are still available here: https://www.subkultureent.com/stray-kids

Source: KpopStarz

[your-world-with-nct]

𝐩��𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫 — 𝐥𝐦𝐤

➵ pairing: mark x female reader

➵ genre: angst, suggestive, underground rapper au

➵ warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, unhealthy relationship themes

➵ word count: 6.1k 

➵ summary: you didn’t know what you and Mark were; you weren’t enemies nor friends, you weren’t exes nor lovers. but what you did know was that you still loved Mark, and you never stopped loving him.

➵ a/n: happy belated birthday mark !! this is a part two to this blurb, and is inspired by the lyrics to billie eilish’s ‘party favor’. this is my first full fic, so i hope you all enjoy it and feel free to leave some feedback too!

August 2 - the significance of the date was written in the scars of your heart, forever known as, one: Mark’s birthday, and, two: what would’ve been yours and Mark’s two year anniversary. Ahh, Mark Lee.

The boy that became all of your firsts, kisses and the like; the boy that harnessed the musical talent of a professional or a prodigy, despite his small, underground career; the boy that was just a shy bean beneath his tough, street-wise exterior; the boy that knew your darkest secrets and told you his; the boy that promised you happiness till the end. But he was also that same boy that took advantage of you and lied to you; the boy who stole your heart, and never gave it back; the boy who was better at lyrics than love. He was such a mystery to you, like a code you couldn’t quite seem to decipher.

Even after the abrupt ending of your relationship, Mark was always there, with you, as if nothing had happened between you two. From the evenings where he was out cold after a long night at the bar, calling you to pick him up, to the early hours of the morning where he needed some feedback for his newly produced tracks, he somehow managed to keep you in his life, relying on him the way you relied on oxygen. Mark had you wrapped around his little finger - you would do anything just to get close to him again - and you both knew it.

There was one slight issue, though, which was the fact that you didn’t exactly know what you two were to each other. Yes, there may have been some occasions where Mark was drunk out of his mind, and you would both end up naked in his bed the next morning, like lovers.

But there were also times where he would ignore you for weeks on end, the only updates you received from him were Instagram posts with his rapper friends, paired with cryptic captions that were clearly targeting you, like exes.

However, no matter what Mark did, you would always come crawling back to him and his addictive love, because you were trapped in his trance, and didn’t want to be released from it either.

Once again, you were stuck in that limbo of Mark not acknowledging your existence for another month - or so you thought.

As you mindlessly shoved spoonfuls of Cheerios (your failed attempt at a healthy breakfast) into your mouth, you stared at the cursed date on your lockscreen, when, all of a sudden, your phone began ringing, the default tone echoing throughout your empty apartment. The name that flashed on the screen touched a nerve deep within you, as if your senses had been awakened; one of those senses being your infatuation with Mark, which was rekindling and creating sparks in your stomach as you hesitantly answered the call and put it on speakerphone.

“H-hello?” You hated the way your throat closed up and your voice dwindled into nothing whenever you spoke to him after eternities of no contact whatsoever.

“Oh, hey, Y/N! How’ve you been? I’ve not spoken to you in, like, what, I don’t know, it’s been, like, ages now, hasn’t it?” Mark leaped right into the conversation, starting it off strangely welcoming, too comfortable for your liking. You nodded slightly in response to his question, before quickly realising that he couldn’t see you right now.

“Uhh, yeah, it’s definitely been a while now,” you let out a timid squeak, which was originally meant to be a polite laugh, except the mere thought of Mark clouded your thoughts and refrained you from thinking straight, or acting normal.

Trying to distract yourself from your awkwardness, you absentmindedly started playing with your spoon, stirring it in the bowl- which now only contained some milk and tiny specks of Cheerios - while listening intently to the boy’s next words.

“So, you know how it’s my birthday today, right?” he paused to let you answer, to which you hummed a small ‘happy birthday’ in response, “Ahh, thanks, well, if you’re free tonight, I managed to privately this really cool nightclub from 9pm onwards and I was wondering if you wanted to join us?”

You’d be lying if you said that Mark’s invitation didn’t cause you to almost have a heart attack, so it took you awhile to process the information he had just thrown at you and come up with a decent reply, “Okay, first, of course I can come, I wouldn’t miss it for the world! Who do you think I am - it’s summer, I have no friends, and I think I’ve watched ‘Love, Simon’ one too many times this summer,” you joked.

Before you could continue, the Canadian boy’s bubbly giggles cut you off, as he sighed, saying, “Wow, you really haven’t changed that habit, I see.” The steady beat of your heart suddenly accelerated, the fact that your ex remembered your only hobby, an unusual one at that, which he found out about almost two years ago, sent shockwaves through your entire body.

“Mhm, yeah, that movie never gets old,” you joined in with his laughter, then carried on with what you were going to say once you heard the contagious chuckles quieten, “Also, where’s the nightclub? And who do you mean by ‘us’? I’m just curious, you know?”

You tried your best to not sound intimidated by the potential answers to your questions, but, with your knowledge of who Mark liked to surround himself with now, you couldn’t help but feel out of place around them.

“The nightclub is called ‘Sun and Moon’, it’s owned by one of my older friends, Taeil, and, it’s near the, uhhh, I think it’s close to that one shopping centre? But I can send you directions later, even if you can’t find it, you won’t miss it, it’s covered in neon lights and it’s massive! And, did I mention that Taeil hyung makes the best cocktails? I can’t wait for tonight!”

The boy seemed ultimately fascinated with the place from the way he spoke about it, and your lips curved into a small smile at his excitement. ‘Damn it,’ you thought to yourself, ‘why is he so cute? About things like this? Ughhh, I love him.’

Mark’s endless chatter continued while you pondered over how adorable he probably looked right now, “And, as for who’s coming, it’s only a small group of friends - the Dream boys, my best mate Yukhei and his Chinese buddies from uni, oh, and Chaeyoung and her non-celeb friends are coming too!”

The first few guests he listed were absolutely fine - Yukhei was your best friend, also a mutual friend of yours, and was the one that introduced you to Mark; his friends were strange, but bearable though; while the Dream boys were a group of young artists Mark had the opportunity to join, who were soon going to debut as rappers with him - however, your brows furrowed at the unfamiliar name, confusion written all over your face.

You weren’t jealous, no, just… curious as to who exactly this ‘Chaeyoung’ was, “Oh! Okay, that’s great! But, uhhh, who’s Chaeyoung? I’ve never heard that name before?” The boy let out a dreamy sigh, as if he was enchanted by the mere thought of this person, “Son Chaeyoung is a senior from our record label, better known as Beastie Babe, that’s her stage name.”

Despite his explanation, you were still baffled since you had no idea who she was. The weird, subconscious ‘huh?’ you let out told Mark that you still didn’t understand, so he elaborated on the matter, “I shit you not, she is the most talented, influential rapper of our generation! Her debut single ‘BDZ’ literally dominated both national and Western music charts and her recent collaboration with Cardi B helped skyrocket her to fame, and I’m under the same company as her? Like, I still can’t believe that that’s what we have the potential to become. She’s just so amazing-”

A greedy feeling engulfed your chest and your heart began thumping uncontrollably as Mark’s words of admiration filled your ears. Somehow, out of anger or whatnot, you had managed to throw your spoon across the kitchen, grunting quietly as he failed to stop rubbing in your face the fact that he was talking to other girls now.

“-the moment I walked into her recording studio instead of the Dreamies’ was the best moment of my entire life! We’ve actually been spending a lot of time with each other since then, and, you know what, Y/N? I used to have a huge fanboy crush on her but, uhhh, now that I actually know her, I think that I-I like her? Do you think I should say something tonight? Drunk Mark is definitely better with the ladies than Sober Mark,” he joked, stopping right after he heard silence on the other end of the phone.

You almost screamed at his last statement - “Drunk Mark is definitely better with the ladies than Sober Mark” - well, of fucking course he would say that, that’s exactly how he ended up asking you out on his birthday two years ago, while he was drunk.

‘How insensitive can that shitbag be! That’s our story, not yours and Chaeyoung’s!’ you internally yelled at him, as you refrained from hanging up without another word. Luckily, your self-control got the better of you and you said through gritted teeth, “Haha, defo, I’ll see you tonight then, Mark, good luck with that.”

And with that, you slammed your finger on the red button, aggressively hurling your phone at the couch and cursing Mark under your breath. “Just fuck around with my feelings then, why don’t you? While you’re at it, you may as well shove your successful love life into my face and ruin the smallest fragments of our relationship that we have left,” you mumbled, trudging over to your sofa to collect your phone.

Once you unlocked it, you went straight to Youtube, searching the name ‘Beastie Babe’ and playing her discography as you washed your limited amount of dishes. It crushed your already low self-esteem as you listened to the girl’s unique music, and you realised why Mark looked up to her so much and wanted to date her, she was so much better than you, more gorgeous, more gifted, she was the ultimate upgrade from you.

Those thoughts resurfaced once again as you stood in front of your full body mirror hours later, Chaeyoung’s catchy songs playing in the background, as you couldn’t help but binge all of her music videos to try and gage the chance you had against her when it came to Mark. Turns out you had zero chance.

That girl was literally world-famous, her albums were sold out everywhere, and she had designer brands chasing after her, desperate for celebrity endorsement. Her self-produced music was mesmerising, something you had never heard of before, and her rapping was rhythmic and fluid, while her vocals were beautifully melodic.

Not to mention, Chaeyoung was stunning - like her stage name suggested, she did have the facial structure of a ‘baby beast’ as her fans say, and her hair looked gorgeous no matter what style it was in, her chiseled cheekbones were always the main point of her look, along with her infamous, enticing caramel eyes.

Then, there was you. A college dropout who was surviving solely off of your parents’ riches until they could find a job for you in their expanding business, you were the ‘rich kid’ that everybody shamed.

You didn’t have anything like music in your blood, and you weren’t particularly talented at anything, unless pessimism was considered a talent. And you definitely weren’t gorgeous, you weren’t anything close to it, which was justified as you scrutinised your outfit in the mirror, that made you look even worse than usual.

Initially, what you had chosen for yourself and laid out on your bed looked ideal, the black and white checkered skirt complemented the tight, white off-the-shoulder top and the black, knee-length high heeled boots, while the baby pink leather jacket tied the whole thing together, adding a splash of colour to it.

Now that it was on you, you appeared like you were trying way too hard - your exaggerated makeup looked disgustingly dark, the top showed off all of your curves and rolls, the skirt was a little too short for your liking and portrayed a slutty image that you weren’t going for, and the boots were chunky and big, and didn’t seem to match the rest of the outfit as well as it did prior to when you put it on.

You looked horrendous and you knew it, but this was the only thing in your closet that was even close to what those other girls would be wearing, the only thing that made you at least look like you could fit in with them.

Before you could change anything about it, you glanced at the alarm clock perched on your bedside table, showing exactly ‘21:00’, which you decided was the perfect time to leave.

Usually, with events, you would either plan way ahead of time, and arrive punctual and prepared, or you’d turn up almost an hour late, with a half-assed outfit and an empty stomach.

This time, however, you didn’t know where you were headed, so you should’ve left early, but you got too paranoid, thinking up random instances where you would end up getting there before anyone else was, which would make you look like you were trying harder than ever to get Mark’s attention.

The car ride to Sun and Moon was a daunting one - not only because you were twisting and turning down unfamiliar roads, relying solely on Google Maps, but, because you were jittery with nerves and anxiety.

Just thinking of walking all alone into the club to see a clique of popular musicians and their wealthy friends made you shiver in your seat, and the fact that you were extremely anti-social and very much intimidated by most of the party’s attendees made it even worse.

Lights of almost every colour of the spectrum struck you as you parked your car by Sun and Moon, which was one of the most appealing and exciting clubs you had ever seen, not that you had been to many anyways. You braced yourself as you entered the place, breathing quickly and heavily, before pushing the door open to the booming, electrifying atmosphere.

You were immediately drawn to Mark’s alluring figure on the dance floor, jokingly grinding against one of his group members, Donghyuck, and you assumed that the both of them had some pre-party drinks already.

Mark’s black, patterned dress-shirt flowed down his upper body, the loose fabric of it accentuating the shape of his chest.

His wrists and neck were adorned in expensive brands of jewellery, his fingers laden with various silver rings, the golden glints of his watch twinkling under the bright, fluorescent lights - and his ebony locks were styled to exaggerate his forehead.

The matching black skinny jeans he wore made his legs look heavenly, it made it so hard for you to look away from him.

You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the amorous thoughts flooding your mind, directing your eyes away from the attractive birthday boy to the rest of the room.

It seemed as if you were the last one to turn up, despite your worries, since you spotted Yukhei and his friends attacking the bar, and who you managed to identify as Chaeyoung and her friends surrounding and blatantly flirting with the Dreamies.

She was even more breathtaking in person - her platinum blonde bob framed her effortless makeup, which consisted of fuschia lips, long, luscious lashes, shimmery eyeshadow, and sparkling highlight, and her striking outfit, a lime green and black patterned tube top and matching bootleg pants, made her look magnificent.

If she wasn’t your ex-boyfriend’s current crush, she would’ve been yours, because, damn, she was hot.

You were broken from your daze when one of Yukhei’s best friends, Hendery, hollered your name and gestured for you to join them, after he noticed you standing blank and confused by the entrance of the club.

“Yoooo, Y/N!! It’s been ages since I last saw you and you look great, boo! Come here, you gorgeous little bitch,” Yukhei’s obnoxiously deafening voice reached you from the opposite side of the room, calling for you even though Hendery had already grasped your attention in the first place, causing you to shyly scurry towards his friend group, the heavy stares of almost everyone in the room following you.

As you made your way over to them, your best friend engulfed you into a bone-crushing hug, his long limbs entangling themselves around you, not letting you get a word in first. When he finally pulled away, it was then that you caught a full look at him.

“Thanks, Yukhei, I really wasn’t sure about this but I’m glad you like it. Also, you look absolutely amazing!! Like, it’s only been 3 months but I feel like you’ve gotten even taller,” you exclaimed, proceeding to compliment your friend’s stylish outfit.

The plain black-on-black aesthetic he was going for may have seemed boring, but he pulled it off so well - the tight-fitted, black long sleeve was paired with black leather pants and decorative chains hanging from his belt loops, and his newly dyed navy blue hair was slicked back to reveal his forehead.

He let out a squeaky laugh, one that only you managed to get from him, as he rested his arm on your head, commenting, “Yeah, I think I actually have gotten taller.” You rolled your eyes at his teasing, before interacting with Yukhei’s friends, who were a lot more welcoming than you expected.

You had only ever spoke to Hendery before, but Xiaojun, Yangyang, and Sicheng were all polite to you, contrary to their appearance and their reputation.

Yes, Yukhei and his mates were the typical rich playboys that you had previously assumed only existed in movies, with the designer loafers and belts they were wearing today.

But, they were just playful dumbasses who looked appealing to their classmates, and, to be honest, you enjoyed hanging out with them during the party, instead of lurking around the club, solitary and sombre, pining after Mark.

Oh yeah, Mark - the boys had been distracting you so well that you had forgotten about your ex that stood just four feet away from you, freestyle rapping with Jaemin and Jeno.

Surprisingly, you didn’t really mind your lack of interaction with him throughout the night. It had only been two hours and you thought that you would be so desperate to just talk to him and fix things with him, but, in reality, you were having a blast with Yukhei’s friends, listening to their uni gossip and discussing your favourite music at the moment, they made you feel comfortable and welcome, something that Mark and his friends always failed to do with you.

As you decided to have yet another cocktail, you approached the bartender, but, before you could even open your mouth, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Although you hadn’t even seen the person, you knew exactly who it was, by the calloused fingers, from countless plucking of guitar strings, that grazed your skin, and the embarrassed clearing of his throat to gain your attention, you just sensed that Mark was stood right behind you.

Tentatively, you turned around to face the boy you dreaded to see, your cheeks flaming with rouge as he scratched his nape and locked eye contact with you. Your pulse quickened and you felt your stomach churning in your stomach, maybe it was just the drinks, or maybe it was his mere presence that excited and aroused you.

The scent of alcohol lingered on his body, and you could tell that it had already took a toll on him, by the wild twinkle in his eyes and the unsteadiness in his voice.

Despite that, Mark looked absolutely ineffable at that exact moment, the beads of sweat on his forehead sparkled underneath the colourful lights, and made him look ethereal and idyllic.

You panicked, creating multiple, unrealistic reasons as to why Mark wanted to talk to you right now, so the first thing your disoriented, intoxicated mind barfed up for you to say was, “Sincerely, happy birthday!”

The god-like creation that stood before you sniggered at your outburst, “Thanks, and thanks for coming too! I just wanted to ask if you could hold my watch for a bit?”

You almost choked at the simple request he had given you, clearly, he had other priorities, ones that didn’t include facing you and everything that had occured between you two since you had last spoken, excluding this morning, “Oh, oh yeah, uhhh, yeah, sure? How come?”

“Ahhh, Dahyun just challenged Jisung to a dance-off and he almost flipped in excitement, he dragged me and the rest of the Dreamies with him to go against Dahyun, Chaeyoung, and Tzuyu, and it’s already pretty hardcore, just look.”

Mark vaguely gestured to the dance floor, where Jeno was b-boying and Chenle was screeching to hype him up (even though the younger of the two was sober, he was still as energetic as ever) while Tzuyu was aggressively booing him and Chaeyoung was comically cracking her knuckles in preparation, “this is a Rolex Submariner and I do not wanna ruin it ‘cause of a dance-off, y’know?”

You laughed along with him, admiring the way he delicately removed the watch from his wrist, “Of course, I’ll keep it with me while you, uhhh, do that. By the way, where’d you get this? It looks pretty good quality.”

He tossed a glance at Yukhei, then back at you, “Xuxi got me this, he gave it to me last night so that I could wear it today! Did you think I bought it? I could never afford this on my own, ha!”

His drunken giggles were the only thing you heard and you couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment due to Mark’s casual manner around you.

You never thought that it would cross your mind, but you were beginning to wonder if he was completely and utterly over you this time.

“I’ll be back soon, just give it to me once we’re done,” he added, before making his way back to the dance floor where Renjun was doing some eccentric moves you had never seen before.

Even from afar, Yukhei noticed the dim aura that surrounded you, so he approached you, while you were ordering your new drink.

“What was that about? What did he say to you?” he questioned you, handing you the shot glass that the bartender had just placed on the surface. Accepting it, you took a swift swig of the drink, letting the liquid ease down your throat and settle in your stomach before answering, “He literally just wanted me to hold his watch, that’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“Yup, and I told him ‘happy birthday’, but, besides from that he just kinda, you know, avoided everything that I wanted to talk about, and ran away to them,” you nodded your head towards Mark, who was now freestyling against Chaeyoung, a knowing smirk plastered on his face.

Your best friend wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest in a comforting way, to which you plainly let him do so, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N, as much as I love Mark, he’s been such a dick to you this entire time. I wish he would’ve listened to me when I told him to choose to either stop stringing you on or to pick up where you two left off.

“But, instead, he’s broken your heart time and time again, making you think that he still wants you, and needs you, when, in reality, Chaeyoung had him under her control the moment he met her, which was literally two weeks after you broke up, by the way. I wish that you’d look past that image Mark had built of himself in your head and heart, and see the real him.”

It was shocking to hear these wise words come from your currently drunk friend, as those weren’t the types of things he would usually say when he was clear-headed.

You wiggled out of his endearing embrace, audibly exhaling in frustration as your head was invaded with sudden realisations and epiphanies, “You’re right, surprisingly, I’ll try and talk to him later, maybe when I hand him his watch back. But, hopefully, this’ll be the last time I have to even look that boy in the eyes, I don’t think I can keep doing this any longer.”

The curves of Yukhei’s lips turned upwards into a proud smile, “That’s my girl! Now, how about you play this one drinking game that Sicheng found with us? Will that make you feel better?”

It did make you feel better, a lot better, and you were enjoying yourself so much that you had missed the fact that the impromptu dance battle had come to an end and its participants were carelessly swaying with one another, too exhausted to move their bodies properly.

You noticed that there were two specific people missing, however; it seemed that Mark and Chaeyoung had slipped out while you were playing with Yukhei, Sicheng, Hendery, Xiaojun, and Yangyang.

Only then did you recall that Mark’s exorbitant watch was still in the pocket of the pink jacket you had removed and left unattended on a chair. You excused yourself from the boys and ran to your jacket, retrieved the Rolex and proceeded to search for Mark to return it to him, and talk to him.

You had examined each and every bit of the club closely, yet Mark was nowhere to be seen, so you decided to explore the exterior, perhaps he needed to get something from his car, or something?

It was difficult to convince yourself that he hadn’t left to get some ‘alone time’ with Chaeyoung, which is what he had told his friends when he had done the same with you two years prior, but the idea of it kept recurring to you as you ventured out into the cold night. 

The similarities of your current situation and the time you had run away from Mark’s underground performance a week after your breakup were disturbingly accurate - except this time you were running towards him, instead of away from him, you were stronger now and wanted to face him, not cower away from him. 

He was making your confrontation pretty hard, though, because, at the moment, you couldn’t even find Mark, so you came to the conclusion of trying to call him. Multiple times. And, yet, he still didn’t answer, and you hadn’t advanced any further with it. You still didn’t give up, as you pressed his name in your phone again, and wandered down the street, glancing side to side every so often, just in case you had missed him.

“Hey, this is Mark, I’m busy at the moment but I’ll be back! Leave a message while you’re at it, I guess, haha,” Mark’s recorded voice echoed from the speakerphone yet again, you had heard it so many times that you had pretty much memorised his awkward little ramble. You sighed as the tone beeped for the sixth time in the past few minutes.

A disgruntled growl left you as you proceeded to search for the unreachable boy, your phone clutched in one hand while his watch was still in the other.

It was extremely tempting to just take it home with you and return it to him the following day - but if you were really going to permanently detach yourself from Mark like you promised yourself you would, you had to avoid anything and everything to do with him, or else you would give up and let yourself be pulled back into his trance.

After seeing the way he acted around Chaeyoung throughout the night, however, it wasn’t very likely that you’d come crawling back to him any time soon.

You pressed the contact name once again, holding your phone up to your ear hopefully, awaiting a response. Turning the corner as you neared your car, you laid eyes on a sight you wish you never had done, and you swore you almost dropped your mobile along with your jaw right there on the sidewalk.

There he was: pinned up against the graffitied wall of the narrow alleyway, arms coiled all over Chaeyoung’s waist, hips, and ass, lips locked with her swollen, red ones.

You couldn’t even gasp at the horrific scene, you were in another state of shock, and your entire body was quivering and recoiling in utter pain and heartbreak.

Tears pricked at your eyes the longer they lingered on the moaning mess that was Mark, but you couldn’t rip them away from him. “Shit, Chae, I think I love you,” he breathed out, as she left open-mouthed kisses from his jaw to his collarbone, her hands threading through his velvety locks.

That used to be you, kissing all down his neck; that used to be you, making his heart race and limbs melt into jelly; that used to be you, the one he said ‘I love you’ to.

“Hey, this is Mark, I’m busy at the moment but I’ll be back! Leave a message while you’re at it, I guess, haha,” the tone played again, making you jump out of your skin, ‘perfect timing, Y/N, what if he heard it, right now, coming from your phone!’ you huffed, dropping Mark’s watch on the ground near the alleyway, bolting away from the couple, towards your car, grabbing the handle and pulling it open as soon as you reached it.

As you slumped into the driver’s seat, you realised that you had accidentally pressed the voicemail button with your shaking finger, instead of the ‘end call’ button.

“Fuck, no, I don’t wanna record a voicemail to Mark,” you thought aloud, until a voice in your head suggested, ‘but won’t this be the last time you’ll ever speak to him?’

It was with that thought that the gears in your head began turning - it was right, this would be your last time talking to him, you could finally tell him all of the things on your mind, the emotions he made you feel, the burdens he put on you, and he didn’t even have to respond.

You could simply block him forever - because he wouldn’t care, right? You didn’t even need a response or an apology, all you wanted was for him to know what he put you through, what you had to suffer through because of him.

And it’s not like that would upset him, he didn’t care about you the way you cared about him, he didn’t need you the way you used to need him, since he had his (possibly) new girlfriend instead of you. So you decided to record your last message to him.

“Uhhh, okay, this is really weird but I’ll just get it over and done with. So, Mark, this is Y/N and by the time you get this, your number’ll probably be blocked, this is the last thing you’ll hear from me.

“I’m guessing you’re kinda confused right now, because you’re probably listening to this while you’re either drunk as fuck or hungover, but, long story short, I’m fucking done with you.

“Let me just remind you of what happened tonight, or last night, depending on when you’re hearing this. You invited me to your little celebration after, what, a month of not contacting me? And then, proceeded to tell me that your crush would be here, even though you knew all too well that we had too many loose ends that we hadn’t tied yet.

“Then, I get here, and suddenly you don’t even greet me, or acknowledge me, just like you had been doing for the past few weeks, while, of course, you’re glued to Chaeyoung’s side.

“Meanwhile, I was there, waiting to see you, since we hadn’t hung out normally since the break-up 3 months ago, and I knew, well, at least I thought I knew, that there was still a connection between us, or something.

“But, instead, I spent the entire night following Yukhei around and talking to his friends, and having the oh-so-great opportunity of watching you eye-fuck Chaeyoung the whole time. And, finally, when you do eventually notice me, you ask me to hold your Rolex? Really, Mark? I didn’t even get the chance to say anything more than ‘happy birthday’ to you.

“Now, I don’t know how you’re feeling about this whole thing, because, apparently, you’re now Chaeyoung’s newest boy toy, but, did you ever stop and think about how this has affected me? How this whole thing has affected me?

“Because, if you really didn’t notice Mark, I was still fucking in love with you - even after you left me - and I never knew why you gave up on us. Personally, I thought we were amazing together, I thought you were my soulmate, you were the only person that made me feel loved, the only person I loved, but, you didn’t seem to think so.

“Maybe it’s because you’re my first love, Mark, but I wasn’t yours; maybe it’s because I thought that nobody else could replace you; maybe it’s because of your web of lies that I got caught in - but I felt like it wasn’t over yet. It couldn’t be, we would find each other after a while and resume what we had, and we’d be together forever, wow, I know that’s cheesy, I think the alcohol’s getting to me now.

“Speaking of alcohol though, there was another reason why I thought that we could pick up where we left off.

“Don’t you remember all of those nights where you needed me to get you from the bar or the club, and drive you home? When you were so incapable of processing our history together that you just gave in, and let me fall in love with you all over again?

“Yeah, those nights gave me hope, hope that it wasn’t the drinks speaking for you the previous nights, it was you, and hope that you would realise what you were missing and come back to me.

“But, hoping is no good. You’ve actually gotta follow through with your hopes and make them come true. Yet, I couldn’t do that, since you always left me. You always disappeared without a trace, and then, suddenly, after three weeks or so, you’d be right back.

“But, you know, I see it now, I see the truth. You never really loved me, you weren’t lying when you said that, you loved the idea of me, the idea of having someone to rely on, the idea of someone else cleaning up your messes, the idea of someone to hook up with whenever you wanted.

“I saw that all throughout today, when you looked into Chaeyoung’s eyes, she pulled you in and you were lost in a swirl of lust, but whenever you looked into my eyes, you were so disconnected from me, and there was never any emotion.

“Mark, I’m not just your property, you can’t do whatever you want with me! I’m not your party favor, a mere birthday gift that gets thrown away after its purpose has been served.

“I’m Y/N and I’m not yours, Mark Lee, and I’m ashamed to say I ever was. If there’s one thing you were right about, though, it’s that ‘happiness is a lie, and it was only found in your trance’, but that’s because you didn’t make me feel true happiness.

“True happiness isn’t being manipulated into thinking that you make someone feel good and that it’s the only thing that makes them feel good, and that they needed you - true happiness is being free from the people that do that to you.

“I’m sorry, that I didn’t do what you wanted me to, I’m not blinded by your fake love anymore so you won’t be using me any time soon. Goodbye, Mark.”

And, with a few swift movements of your finger, Mark was gone from your phone, and from your life. He was nothing to you now, and you were no longer his - and, wow, you never knew that you would feel so proud to be able to say that.

[minsugapie]

The Eve: part 1 (1697 words) - who is Kai?

• • • • • •

Lumi is down on her luck. After graduating university with a business degree, she has yet to secure a career in that path, reluctantly working and living at an old motel instead.

Kim Jongin is on the run. He’s been framed for embezzlement, and someone faked his death while he was out of town. With only a handful of bills and a false identity, he had been only able to survive for so long until breaking down in front of an old motel, hoping that whoever found him wouldn’t report him to the authorities.

• • • • • •

prev // current // next

masterlist

• • • • • •

Present day 

The only sound that evening could be heard from the chair behind the lobby counter was the distant buzz of the vacancy sign. Lumi had even gone to the diner for dinner and had come back to absolutely nothing changed. 

She was cold, mostly mentally. Winter was there, temperature quickly falling below freezing level. Although she used to love it, because it meant her favourite holiday was approaching, she dreaded now headed winters because she was alone at the motel and had nobody to warm her up. And the lonelier she felt, the worse her nightmare of the night, her nightmare of the Suho situation. She was able to live her life as normally as she could, but she wasn’t able to sleep without seeing his cold stare. 

That day, Lumi had cleaned out the room that was used last night, but the place was dead now, and she assumed it would be until the weekend. It did pick up during the holiday season because of travellers needing a place to stay while passing by, but it was still slow season. So, she took out the sudoku book from under the counter and set to work on a random puzzle. Really, she couldn’t believe that this was where she ended up. She wanted to go to the city and start her life as soon as she’d graduated, but she ended up here, without a family to go home to. 

An hour passed before another sound was heard. She was brought out of her puzzle-induced concentration by a bang. It sounded like something fell right outside the door. She sprung from her seat and quickly went to inspect the situation –actually glad for something to do. 

Right outside the door was a body; it was barely breathing and looked to be freezing and unconscious. She scrambled to the man, checking to see if he was still alive, and if she knew od him. What she was not expecting, however, was a man that was supposed to be dead. 

Kim Jongin was laying on the ground in front of her, clearly still very much alive —even if only by a hair. So many thoughts ran through her mind. Should she call the police? Should she call an ambulance? Should she just leave him there and pretend she didn’t see him?

Shaking her head, she knew she couldn’t do any of those things. He looked helpless, malnourished, and practically frozen to death. Any other person may not have even recognized him, especially in the dark like this. For the past few years, he was known to have lighter hair, but now, it was dyed black and falling over his face. The hat he’d been wearing must have fallen off when he fell because it lied a few feet away. He had a backpack with him but no jacket. 

Deciding that she should take him into her room, she took his bag and hat and ran to her room, unlocking it and leaving the door open. As quickly as she could, she tried to pick him up, mostly dragging him, into her room. She only barely managed to get him onto the bed before collapsing from the dead weight of him. 

Lumi had never experienced carrying dead weight before, and now she could safely say that it was not fun. As he laid there, she wondered what she should do. He was potentially a dangerous man, and Tom’s words about her being too trusting ran through her mind. 

She jumped up, remembering that she left the door open to the lobby. She would close up for the night. It wasn’t like they were going to get any more people anyways. 

What was she going to do with him? He clearly needed some nourishment and a shower, but he was still unconscious. She wondered if he would wake up and at least drink a glass of water. 

She didn’t know what to do in this kind of situation, let alone nurse someone who was on the brink of death back to health. She really should have watched more documentaries about survival. 

So, she decided to take off his shoes and put a blanket over his cold body before grabbing a water bottle, determined to get him to drink it. 

“Wake up,” she whispered as she lightly shook his body. “Please, you need to drink this…”

He stirred after a few minutes of her shaking him. His eyes didn’t open but his mouth opened and closed like he needed water. His cracked lips that were slightly blue from the cold weren’t the only indicator. He hummed as she told him that needed to drink some water. 

Grabbing the back of his head and pulling his body up into her lap so he didn’t choke on the water, she put the bottle to his lips. He didn’t make any effort to move his arms, but he tilted his chin back like he wanted more. 

It hurt her to see him in this type of situation, so vulnerable. He always gave off an air of confidence and capability, but right then he seemed so small and helpless. He finished off the entire water bottle slowly before she felt a cold hand grip her. 

“Who?…” He mumbled, eyes still not opening. Lumi moved his body back onto the bed and backed away from him. 

“It doesn’t matter. Just sleep while I find out how to make you feel better,” she answered, quickly going to her drawers to find a toque and mitts for him to put on as well as the blankets. 

The only thing that she knew for sure at the moment was that he needed to get warm. 

Vaguely, she remembered something she’d learned about getting someone warm. But it was crazy! What would he think of her? Looking at his shivering body and blue lips, she knew that she had to. She couldn’t put him in warm water. That would be painful. So she had to do it.

She began to undress Jongin slowly, feeling as if she was violating him in some way. It was all for his health, she kept telling herself. His pants were harder to come off, a thick pair of jeans that clung to his freezing frame. Once he was undressed, she took off her own clothes –both of them only left in their underwear and socks. 

She crawled under the covers and pulled him to her, trying to get over the fact that his body only made her shiver. But, it was her body warmth that would help him, and she kept that in mind. “Please be okay,” she whispered to herself as she clung to him. A long minute later she felt him move, crawling closer into her body. His legs tangled with hers, forehead resting on her chest and hands against her stomach. He felt her warmth which she assumed was a good sign. 

It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep. In that circumstance, she couldn’t even admire the man in her arms; the only important thing was that he didn’t die on her watch. 

• • • • • •

When Lumi awoke in the morning, Jongin was still clinging to her, but his body felt warm. After cracking her eyes open to check out the clock on the bedside table, she knew she had to get up. There were a few things that she needed to do today. For one, she needed to grab a few more blankets from the lobby to make sure that he stayed warm. She also needed to go to the store to get some food that wouldn’t be too much for him, maybe some bananas and some toast to start out with. Finally, he had a few scrapes and bruises littering his skin, so she needed to grab some supplies for that. 

She finally crawled out of bed, putting on the same clothes that she had on the night before. Just before she left, she tucked him in tighter and wrote a note. She left it on her side of the bed in case he woke up. 

Please stay until I come back.

Lumi x

It was short but simple. She hurriedly left to get the supplies for him. She had to walk to the general store because she didn’t own a car, but it wasn’t too far. Lumi prayed that James wasn’t currently there because she didn’t feel like having to explain why she was buying things today when she usually went on Sundays to get whatever she needed for the week. 

It was a quick trip because he wasn’t there, and she only had to deal with Tom, who had taken a job there after his wife passed for something to do. 

“Did you hurt yourself or something?” Tom asked as he watched her place the medical kit on the counter beside a loaf of bread and a bunch of bananas. 

“Just making sure the motel is stocked up,” Lumi easily fibbed, tacking out a few bills to pay for what she needed. “But I really can’t stay and chat for long, so have a good day Tom, and keep the change for yourself!”

She bolted out the door before anymore could be said. 

She wasn’t surprised that Kim Jongin was still sleeping when she returned. Hopefully he would wake up soon, so she could feed him and make him drink some more. While waiting for him to wake, Lumi took his clothes and threw them into her hamper, preparing to go to the laundromat later to wash them for him. 

Remembering that he had a backpack with him, she debated opening it to see if there were any more clothes. He was still sound asleep, so she did it. There was a very real possibility that he would not take this situation well at all. 

Inside, there was an empty wallet, a phone with its charger and very few clothes. She took all the clothes and put them in the hamper with the clothes he was wearing yesterday before turning on the phone. Maybe there was someone she could contact to tell that he was alive. 

[artificialqueens]

Got To Have You All the Time (katlaska) - kamylove

Katya’s hurt. Alaska’s far away. Anxiety, adorableness, and soul-searching ensue.

AN - Somebody asked for sick katlaska. This is not quite that. But it’s close! 

Takes place in the same fictional universe as my story They Don’t Love You Like I Love You, a few years later. The title is from a song by Faye Richmonde. There’s some icky medical stuff, but I don’t think it would qualify as graphic.

Alaska’s backstage, at an early show not far from her house, when she gets a call from an unexpected number.

“Trixie?” she says. “Or did my boyfriend lose his phone?”

“No, it’s really me,” Trixie says. “I mean, he doesn’t have his phone, but he didn’t lose it, we–never mind. How are you?”

“You sound tense,” Alaska says. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. And so is Katya, I swear. She’s damaged. But she’s fine!”

Alaska’s brain fills up with images of Katya ODing in a filthy alley and drowning in vomit, because that’s always the first thing that pops into her head. She knows it’s not true, but her lizard brain is convinced.

She’d bet that Trixie has the same problem. 

“What happened?” she asks, forcing her voice to be steady.

“She’ll be fine! But she kind of walked off the stage. Because we both know she’s an idiot.”

Alaska can’t help it. She barks out a laugh and says, “Oh, no, poor thing!” It’s very Katya to get too wrapped up in whatever she’s doing to notice the edge of a cliff.

“I know, right?” Trixie says. “She was laughing at herself in the ambulance. But she broke some bones.”

“Oh, God, which ones?” Alaska asks, hoping they’re not bones that will keep her from working, or worse, force her to sit still and do nothing while they heal.

“Nothing she needs for sex.”

Alaska shakes her head at how differently she and Trixie thought the same thought. 

“You might have to do a little extra work for a while, but-”

“I think we’ll be okay,” Alaska interrupts.

“Right. Sorry.”

Across the dressing room, an old friend of Alaska’s, a WeHo queen who should have been on Drag Race years ago, laughs loudly. Another slips out the door, letting in the sound of a Shea Coulee song.

“Are you at a show?” Trixie asks.

“I’m at ——-. It’s not a big deal. What did she break?”

Trixie hesitates, probably expecting Alaska to throw a fit. God knows Katya would if it was Alaska who was hurt, though with Katya at least 40% would be for comedic effect. Katya’s actually very calm in a crisis. Alaska’s not.

“Her arm, definitely,” Trixie says. “Probably her knee, and maybe a finger or two.”

Alaska gasps. “That’s awful.”

“Don’t panic!” Trixie says. “I’m at the hospital with her, and they already took care of the arm, and now they’re x-raying everything else. She wanted me to call you right away, but I didn’t want to leave her until she had a distraction, sorry. You know how she is.”

Alaska feels a twinge of irrational anger–it’s been at least four hours. But she knows it’s irrational. “No, it’s fine,” she says. “It’s not like I can do anything to help from here.”

“You’re not freaking out?” Trixie asks tentatively.

“No, you gave it a great intro, thank you.”

“No sympathy pains?”

“Not yet,” Alaska says. “But there’s still time.”

Trixie chuckles. “I’ll have her call you as soon as she can, okay? There’s no signal on the first floor.”

“Give her a kiss for me? With tongue?” Alaska asks, because that’s what Katya always tells each of them, whenever they’re going to cross paths without her.

“Consider it done,” Trixie says.

“Alaska, five minutes,” the club manager calls from the door as he sticks his head into the dressing room.

She’s very glad she has work to do. 

<><><>

Trixie goes back inside and waits impatiently. There’s no signal here, either, and she really needs to upload more books, or games, or something.

She’d lied a little bit to Alaska, and she tries not to feel bad about it. At least one out of the three of them needs to stay calm, and Alaska wins out simply by being a few thousand miles away.

She does feel bad about leaving the show, though. She never cancels shows. 

Also it will fuel rumors about her and Katya, which will be a pain in her ass, but will actually be better for Katya and Alaska, Queens of the Big Secret. 

There are pluses and minuses to everything.

She yawns. The adrenaline from the stage had been pumped up even more by seeing Katya fall off it and worrying about Alaska’s reaction, and now it’s wearing off. She wonders if there’s a cafeteria that sells coffee in the middle of the night.

Before she can investigate, a tech wheels Katya and her IV cart out through the metal doors. She’s groggy and miserable, but when she sees Trixie, she calls up a smile and tries to wipe the pain off her face. So Trixie calls up a smile, too.

“How’d it go?” Trixie asks as she stands up to join them.

“It hurt, but I made a new friend! This is Steve!”

Trixie holds out her hand to shake. “Hi, Steve!”

He grins and says hello.

“Did you call her?” Katya asks. “Did you? Did you?”

“She says I should give you a kiss with tongue.”

“Oooh!“ 

“Not happening,” Trixie says.

“Some support system you are,” Katya says. “Is she okay?”

“Of course she’s okay. You’re the one in the fucking hospital.”

Katya pouts. Trixie can’t tell if it’s fake. “She’s not worried about me?”

“Of course she’s worried about you. But she’s fine. She’s at-”

“I know where she is,” Katya cuts her off.

Right. Trixie knows better than to drop any potentially identifying information. Or she usually knows better. “Sorry,” she says. “Does your shared calendar list when you’re going to take a shit?”

“Of course it does,” Katya says. “We’re not animals.”

The orderly–Steve–snorts and turns it into a cough. “Sorry,” he says.

“Steve?” Katya asks. “Are we making you uncomfortable, Steve?”

This kid has no idea what he’s gotten himself into, Trixie thinks.

“I’m gay, honey. I know who you are.”

Or, he knows exactly what he’s getting himself into, and how to use it to distract his patient. 

“Wow, I did not clock you at all,” Trixie says, looking him up and down.

“It’s the scrubs. You can’t be fabulous in this shit.” He gives them a triple snap.

“And you didn’t even let on that you knew me?” Katya says. “I love you, Steve.”

“So you have a boyfriend? Girlfriend? They-friend?” Steve asks Katya.

“I do,” Katya says coyly, biting her lip. Trixie rolls her eyes. 

“And it’s not this one?” He jerks a thumb at Trixie and winks, making sure Trixie knows they’re on the same side.

“Hell no,” Trixie says. “And if this ends up on Reddit, I will come find you, Steve.”

“Steve would never do that to us,” Katya says. “Would you, Steve?”

“I go there for spoilers, not drama.”

Katya’s mouth opens in a delighted O. “Do you know who makes it to the finale this season?”

“Do you?” Steve asks.

“Oh, no,” Katya says. “I don’t know a single spoiler ever.” She crosses her heart and holds up her free hand. “I swear to god.”

It’s not true, of course. Katya always knows more than she wants to, because Alaska knows more than she wants to, from getting called back to appear in every damn season lately. 

“I don’t believe you,” Steve says. “Don’t you all talk?”

“I only talk to the non-snaky ones,” Katya says.

“Oh, my God,” Trixie says with a startled laugh. Katya’s replaced all of her old addictions with whatever high she gets from skirting the edge of outing herself, and it always catches Trixie by surprise.

“Steve?” Katya says. “My boy-slash-girl-slash-they friend is really pretty.” Even through the pain she’s glowing, like she always does when she talks about Alaska.

“You want to tell me who it is?” Steve asks.

“Never,” Katya says. “Sorry, Steve.”

They’re back in the emergency room now, and Steve wheels Katya into a curtained-off cubicle. A nurse follows them in and helps him get Katya onto the bed.

“Gotta leave you ladies here,” Steve says.

Katya waves goodbye and says, “Thanks, Steve! It was nice to meet you!”

“Thank you,” Trixie says.

“He was nice,” Katya says. “Wasn’t he nice?” she asks the nurse. 

“Very nice,” the nurse says. Her name tag says Mariela, and she looks like she’s at the end of an 18-hour shift but would otherwise be a friendly person. “How’s your pain level?”

“Excruciating,” Katya says brightly.

“You sure you don’t want codeine?”

“Unfortunately, yes, I’m sure,” Katya says. 

“We’ll get you another nerve block, then,” Nurse Mariela says. “Back in a few.” And she walks away crisply.

“Steve was a sweetie,” Katya says. “Boyfriend material?”

“He had a ring on. Are you sure they didn’t give you the good stuff?”

“What? I don’t check anymore. I am a spoken-for woman.”

“You never checked,” Trixie says.

“I did! Most of the time.” Katya holds out her good hand in a grabby motion. “Give me your phone.”

Trixie hands it over. There’s no use objecting.

Katya looks at it, unlocks it. (Trixie’s password is another thing Katya somehow always knows.) She checks the settings, shakes it, holds it up in every direction. “No signal,” she says finally. “Fucking hospital.”

“Katya, she’s fine.”

“I know. I just want to talk to her. I like her.”

Trixie knows they always talk after shows. And before, and often during. Before going to bed, after waking up, during breakfast … It’s cute and Trixie’s over the moon for them, but it does sometimes make her own love life feel like child’s play. A preschool romance, how cute, let’s push each other off the swingset.

She’s not jealous of Alaska. She’s jealous of both of them for this ethereal freaking connection they have, and she can’t even be mad about it. She likes them too much.

“God forbid you should go an hour without making googly eyes at each other,” Trixie says.

“I could make googly eyes at you instead.”

“Please don’t. Please don’t.”

Katya laughs maniacally, wheezes, and slaps her thigh. Trixie knows it’s a mistake as it’s happening, but there’s no time to stop her.

“Ow! Fuck!” Katya says. “That fucking hurt! OW! Oh, my God!”

“I’m sorry,” Trixie says, wincing.

After a few breaths to calm herself down, Katya says, “You should be." 

"I’d really like to hear you explain how any of this is my fault.”

“Give me a minute, I’ll come up with something.”

Mariela returns with a tray of needles and vials. Katya distracts herself by playing with Trixie’s phone in her free hand. She hates shots. She never even did intravenous meth, Trixie’s been reliably informed more than once.

“Hey, you have a voicemail!” Katya says. “Oh, that’s better already, thank you,” she tells the nurse.

“I do?” Trixie says. She takes the phone back as Mariela finishes up and leaves. “But it didn’t ring." 

It won’t transcribe or play, either. She can just see that it’s from Alaska.

"Is it her?” Katya asks excitedly.

“Yes, but-”

A young doctor interrupts by walking through the curtain, introducing herself, and asking Katya to confirm her name and birthdate.

Katya rattles it off, and turns immediately to Trixie. “Go call her?”

“I don’t have anything to tell her yet,” Trixie says.

“Caaalllll heeerrrrrrrr,” Katya says.

“You may need to leave for privacy reasons,” the doctor says.

“No, you can tell him anything,” Katya says quickly. 

“Significant other?" 

"Chosen family,” Katya says, and points at the phone. “That’s my extremely significant other. Caalllll herrrrrr!”

“Okay, I’m going!” Trixie says. 

As she leaves, she hears the doctor saying, “Let me just pull this over so we can take a look at your films.”

She goes outside to call, walking away from the entrance to escape the smokers, and she doesn’t bother listening to voicemail first.

Alaska answers before the first ring ends. “Trixie?”

“I told you not to panic,” Trixie says.

“I’m not!” Alaska says, but her chuckle is rueful. “I was just walking home and I thought it was worth a try.”

“Believe me, she’s dying to talk to you, too.”

“Aww,” Alaska says, just the way Katya says it.

“There’s a doctor with her now. She was about to give her the x-ray results.”

“Oh! Go back in, go back in!”

Trixie has to laugh. “That sounded exactly like her. I’ll let you know what they say, okay?" 

They say goodbye, and Trixie hurries back inside.

<><><>

Alaska’s not panicking. She’s not. But she is worried, and not used to being cut off from Katya; their relationship is founded constant, instantaneous, and frequently sarcastic contact, and has been since before they even knew they were a couple.

It’s not the codependent, drug-fueled separation anxiety she had with Sharon, no matter what Trixie might joke about. It’s more that she wants to tell Katya everything, and having to keep it all in is making both her brain and her fingers itch. 

And lurking at the edge of her consciousness are things they should have discussed by now–in all the thousands of words they exchange every day–but haven’t.

She only has one number to perform, and when she gets home, she has nothing to distract herself with but packing. Which is a lot less fun without Katya’s commentary, in person or on facetime or even in texts.

She makes herself a sandwich and only eats a quarter of it, then stands in the middle of her drag room, lost and staring at the racks. Maybe she can just grab half a dozen dresses and stuff them in her luggage and hope for the best.

She pulls out her phone, knowing it’s pointless.

She puts it away, then takes it out again. Then she goes to the bedroom and leaves the phone there, but goes back and gets it a few minutes later.

She hates the thought of Katya in pain. It’s bad enough when Alaska’s with her. (Katya had twisted her ankle in a fucking Target a few months ago and fully enjoyed Alaska’s coddling.) It’s torture to hear about it through an intermediary, even if the intermediary is Katya’s best friend.

Damn. She shouldn’t have come home. She should have stayed to cheer on the others, or dragged someone back here to talk it out. She’s still in half drag, for fuck’s sake.

She can’t call her mom, or Katya’s mom. It’s too late. All her local friends will be either drunk, in bed, or on stage. She tries her brother, who would make her laugh if nothing else, but his phone is off, and she doesn’t leave a voicemail.

"Dammit, Katya,” she says to the room. “You could have at least waited until we were on the same damn stage.”

That’s a dumb thought to think. Sighing, she lays out her suitcases, and after staring at them for a while, she grabs a random armful of clothes, half a drawer of Capezios, and her three favorite wigs, and tosses it all on a chair. And then she stands there staring at the chair.

Maybe she can fix this mess once she hears from Katya. But she has no way of knowing when that will be, and her flight is in five hours.

“Stop it,” she tells herself. She sits heavily on the floor and starts rolling up clothes and bagging shoes. She packs them, and unpacks some of them because she didn’t do it right the first time, and unpacks some more because she can’t make a single damn decision.

Finally, her phone beeps with a tone that isn’t Katya’s.

“Three broken fingers,” the text says. “Dislocated kneecap.”

Alaska recoils in sympathetic pain. Knee stuff is bad. Knee stuff could fuck up her splits permanently.

“And don’t be mad,” the next text says. There’s no time to reply before the next one appears. “She had a compound fracture in her forearm but they took care of that and sewed it up before I even called you. She’s fine!”

Horrified, Alaska starts typing before she finishes reading. “You didn’t tell me it was a compound fracture!" 

"Sorry. I knew it would freak you out. She’s FINE. They’re keeping her overnight and I think there’s a signal upstairs.”

“She had a bone sticking out of her fucking skin!”

“But she doesn’t anymore! Look, I don’t get to lose it and you don’t either. I can only handle one of us right now and that’s KATYA.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Alaska replies quickly. “You’ve been great tonight and we’re both lucky you’re there.”

There’s no response, and Alaska can’t blame her. Katya on a good day is A Lot, and while Alaska doesn’t feel overwhelmed by her anymore, she understands why Trixie does. And Trixie doesn’t need Alaska also being A Lot, on the other end of the phone line. 

She stands up, paces, glares at the suitcases, and makes an iffy life decision: she’ll go to sleep now, calm the fuck down, and get up when Katya calls or when her alarm goes off, whichever comes first.

<><><>

Alaska’s subconscious knows Katya’s ringtone, and she grabs her phone before she’s really awake. “Kati?”

“Aaaaaaal, I am a pitiful, broken shell of a biological woman.”

The humor in Katya’s voice improves Alaska’s mood immediately. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

“Me too. God, I’m a dumbass.”

“I’d like to disagree with that, but-”

“But you can’t!” Katya says, laughing a much less energetic laugh than usual. “You can’t! It’s demonstrably true!”

“Well, you’re my dumbass, for what it’s worth.”

“Stop it. I’m emotionally fragile today. You’re going to make me cry.”

“I would never. How much does it hurt? Is Trixie still there?”

“Not too bad, and no. They have an early flight. Latrice brought me my phone and some clothes, and then they both had to go.”

Alaska’s heart drops, along with her momentarily heightened mood. “Fuck. I don’t like you being alone in the hospital. When can you leave?”

“Later today, but I can’t fly for at least three days, so I-”

“Three days?!”

“They said a week is better. Something about swelling, or an aneurysm, or-.”

“An aneurysm?”

“No, no aneurysm! That’s just what can happen if you fly too soon, and I’m not flying!”

Calm the fuck down, Alaska tells herself. “No. Okay. You’re fine. Trixie kept telling me you were fine." 

"Stop,” Katya says. “Breathe.”

Alaska sighs. “I’m breathing. I’m just–can you even take a piss by yourself?”

“I’ll figure it out. And I have no shame about pissing myself if necessary, as you well know. And there’s room service!”

Alaska looks at the clock and tries to figure out the math of her flight–when’s the latest she can leave, how long can she continue to put off packing, when does she have to be out the shower–but her brain won’t cooperate.

“I can hear you thinking,” Katya says, “and no, you can’t cancel South America. You have never cancelled a show in your life. I’ll be fine!”

“You’re not fine,” Alaska snaps. “You’re alone in a hospital room on the other side of the country with I don’t even know how many broken bones, I lost count.”

“I’ll keep count. You don’t have to. Al. Are you packed?”

“Half. What do they have you on? Is it working?”

“It’s a Tylenol drip or something, and they keep giving me these shots that I swear are a fucking miracle. I made them write ‘no opioids’ on my chart.”

“See?” Alaska says. “That’s why you need someone with you! Doctors fuck that shit up all the time!”

“Al. Is your flight still at 7:55?”

“I–yes.”

“Then you need to finish packing right now. Oh, no,” she says to somebody else. “No eggs, please. Could you take them away? Thanks.”

“They’re feeding you food you don’t even like!”

“No, they’re not. I have toast and cornflakes and orange juice and I’m fine. Pack.”

Sniffling, Alaska squeezes her eyes shut. They’re burning. “Kataya.”

“Pack.” Katya crunches on something, and then yawns loudly.

“I’m keeping you awake,” Alaska says.

“Fuck you, no you’re not. The lack of research into non-opioid pain relief is keeping me awake.” She stops for a second. “Are you crying?”

Alaska sniffles again. “It’s so dumb. I’m tired and pathetic, and you’re the one who’s hurt.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been entertaining everyone else to keep myself sane for hours, and I know you’ve been ruminating instead.”

Ruefully, Alaska says, “I ruminated so hard I had to go to sleep.”

“I knew it! I have got you pegged, gurl.” There’s a brief pause. “Don’t make a bottom joke. If you make a bottom joke, I’m breaking up with you.”

“I won’t make–oh, my God, you’re still doing it!”

“Huh? Breaking up with you?”

“Entertaining me. You shouldn’t have to worry about that!”

“Of course I should. It’s in the job description. Now pack.”

<><><>

They hang up when a gaggle of doctors and med students swarms into Katya’s room, which frankly does nothing for Alaska’s anxiety level. She goes to splash cold water on her face and finds she never even took off her makeup. So she showers as quickly as she can, throws on some clothes for her flight, and goes back to sigh over the open suitcases on the floor.

Nothing fits the way it usually does; her favorite lashes disappeared somewhere between the club and now; the sunscreen isn’t where it’s supposed to be; she has to check her phone to see how many shows she’s doing, because she can’t keep even basic information in her head anymore.

Frustrated, she throws a Louboutin at the wall and refuses to cry again.

If sleeping earlier was an iffy life decision, the one she’s about to make is unquestionably awful.

No, she corrects herself. It’s a bad decision professionally. But she’s reached a point in her life, and in her career, where she’s allowed to put her personal life first, once in a while. 

Anyone who hates her for it can just send her a million snake emojis again.

<><><>

Katya wakes with no concept of time. There’s sunlight in the room, but she doesn’t know which direction the room is facing. There are loud voices in the corridor, but that means nothing. Her stomach is empty. Her broken fingers are throbbing, but strangely, not her knee or her arm. And she smells…

“Al?” She looks around, and finds her boyfriend curled up in a stylish, upholstered chair that suggests she’s going to pay through the nose for this room.

Alaska’s got one foot under her, and the other leg thrown over the arm of the chair. She’s hugging her old backpack to her chest, with her glasses practically off her face and her neck curled at what can’t be a comfortable angle. There’s no product in her hair–she doesn’t leave the house without product in her hair–so a wisp of frizz is flopping down over her eyes.

Katya’s never been so simultaneously overjoyed and enraged to see someone in her life.

A nurse bustles in, knocking perfunctorily on the door. “Mr. McCook, you’re awake! Let’s change out that drip and get you ready for dinner.” She notices the sleeping form in the corner. “I heard your husband was here. He’s as cute as you are!”

Katya doesn’t react to the word husband–you do whatever you have to do to get into a hospital room–but it seems to wake Alaska up.

“Your wh–Kati?” She jerks up straight and looks right at Katya. She might still have a little purple shadow in the corner of one eye, but Katya can’t be sure.

“Yes, darling,” Katya says. “I’m here, and you’re an idiot, and you have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

Alaska startles when she sees the third person in the room. “Oh, hi,” she says.

“Hi there. Are you Mr. McCook also?”

Katya laughs. Alaska, barely awake, takes it seriously. “No, I–I mean, we don’t have–professionally it’s just-”

“Honey, stop,” Katya says. The nurse changes out the bag on Katya’s drip in a few practiced movements, and Katya squints to see her name tag. “Tina here isn’t going to kick you out. Hi, Tina. I’m Brian, and that’s Justin, and he’s an idiot who shouldn’t be here.”

“Fuck work,” Alaska says. She already looks less anxious than she sounded on the phone, and she starts stretching her long neck, to wake up. Katya knows which muscles Alaska will work through first, second, third, knows exactly where Alaska will be sore from sleeping like that, and she smiles.

“He’s also a workaholic suffering from temporary insanity,” Katya adds.

“Oh, no, I agree with him,” Tina says as she checks Katya’s pulse. “Family comes first, right? There are no meds in that bag. The doctor wants to switch you over to oral administration before we let you go. How’s the pain?”

“It’s actually okay. Did you give me another injection while I was asleep?”

“An injection of what?” Alaska asks.

“I told you about the miracle shots,” Katya calmly reminds her.

“Yes, we did,” Tina says, and explains what they use to numb the nerves, which Katya hadn’t known was possible until they gave her the first one. “Are you hungry, Brian?”

“I could eat a horse,” Katya says. Tina leaves with a smile, and Alaska bursts out in a laugh at the secret innuendo.

“You slut,” Alaska says lightly. “You won her over fast.”

“Hearts and minds, one fracture at a time. Remind me to tell you about Gay Steve. And Luis. And Marie Adeline. Her son’s a nurse here, too! And Kang, she’s my doctor.”

“Everybody loves you.” Alaska finally stands up and approaches the bed.

“God knows why, but I’m used to it. Hi.”

“Hi.” She leans down to kiss Katya on the forehead.

“That is not the kiss I was expecting.”

Alaska winces, and runs her tongue over her front teeth. “I don’t think I’ve seen a toothbrush in like a day, I forgot to bring it. You don’t want-”

“I do,” Katya says, and puckers up. Alaska gives her a little peck. “Ew, that was disgusting,” Katya complains.

“I warned you. The pain’s really okay? You looked like you were sound asleep.”

“I think I was. They gave me an SSRI I used to take a long time ago. Knocked me right out,” Katya says. “Now, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m an idiot, like you said.”

“Also demonstrably true.”

“And what your new friend said. Family comes first.”

Katya’s heart feels like it could jump out of her chest. She reaches for Alaska’s hand. “That is the corniest thing I have ever heard you say, and I’m never going to let you forget it.”

Alaska gives her that soft, crooked smile Katya loves, and squeezes her fingers twice, like a heartbeat.

Then she deflects with a smirk. “You know,” she says, “between Trixie leaving the show with you, and me cancelling six shows-”

“Six? That’s the whole tour!”

“-Reddit’s going to have plenty of things to talk about. I’ll reschedule, it’ll be okay. I’ll make it okay.”

She’s telling herself that, too, not just Katya. Katya rubs the back of Alaska’s hand with her thumb, and lets the subject go.

“Let’s make up a long, complex love triangle narrative,” Katya says, “where you’re the sad but sublimely gorgeous third wheel, and I’m married to a prick who can’t get it up, and I’m the quirky, unnaturally pretty girl you come to blows over.” She sighs happily. “It’ll be beautiful. It’ll be heart wrenching. I’ll cry. And then I’ll dump both of you for Willam.”

Alaska cracks up, and Katya joins her, gratefully. 

“Are you sure they didn’t give you the good stuff?” Alaska asks.

“That’s what Trixie said.”

“Because at your highest level of functioning-”

“-I come off high as a kite. The bird, not the toy.”

“There’s a bird called a kite?”

“I told you you were an idiot. Or maybe it’s like a stingray? I’m an idiot, too.”

“I couldn’t leave you here by yourself,” Alaska says, scrunching up her nose. “Somebody has to keep you alive and entertained.” She thinks about that, and adds, “Maybe the next time you do a faceplant off a stage I can be cold and detached.”

“Maybe next time you’ll be with me.”

“One can only hope,” Alaska says. Then she winces again. “Oh, fuck, I need to send flowers to Trixie. Don’t let me forget.”

“Why? She said you were an absolute gentleman. A credit to our relationship. A credit to the species homo." 

"She did not say that, and you are a lying liar.”

“She almost did!” What Trixie actually said was that Alaska was a grown-up and could handle herself, but Katya could read between the lines.

“I was a credit to the species homo,” Alaska says, “right up until I turned into a scared little goblin. I’ll tell you about it later. Did they say when you can leave?”

“They said they’d check on me before dinner and decide for sure.”

Alaska ostentatiously checks her phone. “It’s 4:30.”

“Be nice,” Katya says. “My mom’s a nurse. We like nurses.”

“I know your mom’s a nurse, shut up. Do you need me to do anything? Does the hotel know you’re extending?”

“Yes, they know.” Katya thinks for a minute. “I’m sure there’s something practical you could be taking care of, but I don’t care. Just squeeze in here, we can watch Golden Girls and you can tell me how much you love me.”

She tries to inch away to make room on the bed, but pain stabs her in at least five different places. “Ow, fuck!”

“Let me help you, for fuck’s sake!”

Alaska was right. Katya would have starved or died of filth alone in a hotel room. She grumbles about moving anyway.

Eventually they get Katya settled and the pain back down, and Alaska sits up against the headboard next to her. “Tina’s going to kill me,” Alaska says, but Katya can feel her starting to relax.

“Oh, the irony. Now shhh, I’ve never seen this one,” Katya says. Alaska’s on her intact side, her hips by Katya’s head and her legs stretched out along Katya’s body. Katya lets the warmth seep under her skin.

Alaska quotes along happily with the first episode, but then goes quiet for the second. Halfway through, she asks, “Do we know a good gay lawyer?”

“Mmm,” Katya says. “Hospital visitations.”

“Power of attorney.”

“Healthcare proxy. All that stuff.” She tilts her head back to see Alaska’s face. “Did they give you a hard time?”

“No, but I wouldn’t have been surprised.”

“Not the most queer-friendly state.”

“No. And the amount we travel…”

Katya nods. “Somebody will, eventually. You up for this?”

Alaska scritches Katya’s scalp, and Katya sighs in appreciation. “I’m in for good. You?”

Katya nods. “Till death. And then I’ll be haunting you, and we’ll have all the kinky ghost sex.”

“Well, if you’re going to haunt me anyway,” Alaska says, slow and deadpan, “it’s only fair that I get to decide when to pull the damn plug.”

Katya laughs until she wheezes, and Alaska resists for a bit before joining in.

“Luckily,” Alaska says once they’ve calmed down, “I’ve got nothing to do for the next week but help you pee, and search for lawyers on the internet.”

“Not nothing. You’ll also be giving me a lot of head.”

“That goes without saying.”

They share a suggestive smile and go back to watching TV. Alaska starts quoting the dialogue again as the last bit of tension leaches out of her body, and Katya virtually melts into her side. One scene later, she gets bored and throws a possessive arm over Alaska’s leg, tapping out a restless beat on the inside of her knee. 

They’ve talked about marriage, and decided it’s too heteronormative for them. But this, the legal shit. The legal shit matters. It’s only luck, and the privilege of having supportive families unlike so many couples they’ve known, that’s allowed them to ignore the odds for so long. 

Nurse Tina returns to find Alaska happily voice acting all the roles in one of her favorite episodes, and Katya happily tapping out a song that will make Alaska laugh when she recognizes it.

“I should make you move,” Tina says. She’s got a cup of pills in one hand and a cup of water in the other. “But you two are just too cute. I guess gay marriage isn’t so bad, after all!”

Katya tilts her head back to look at Alaska’s face. “Your point.” But she smiles at Tina anyway. 

Alaska smiles, too. “Exactly,” she says, squirming to get her phone out of her pocket. “Never mind tomorrow, I’m going to start that search right now.”

[davidbuddbg]

Chapter 3: What if it’s worth it?

I woke up a few hours later with pain on my right ear from having slept on it for so long. Blindly, I reached for my bedtable trying to find some Paracetamol or Ibuprofen, but then I felt Dave starting to steer next to me. He wasn’t waking up from a peaceful slumber, he was tossing and turning, having a nightmare.

Silently, I took the first pill I could find and turned to him. His face was contorted, tears were coming from his closed eyes. I was hesitating, not knowing whether I should just let him sleep it off or wake him up. But then his silent sobbing turned into painful howling. I couldn’t hear him like this and do no nothing.

Against the better judgment I should have acted upon, my hands went to his shoulder, shaking them softly, and when that didn’t work, stronger. He didn’t wake up. Panicking, I now went to straddle him, shaking his body with all my strength. He finally woke up, suddenly opening his blue eyes and my hands left his shoulders to go cup his face. But his eyes were empty, they weren’t seeing me.

And then abruptly, he leaned forward, his right hand moving to my throat, encircling it, suffocating me.

“Dave!” I screamed as loud as the little air I had would allow me. I tried to remove his hands but he was too strong and I was too weak. Dizziness was taking me over again, and tears started sliding down my eyes. He wasn’t going to stop. In my last moments of lucidity, I grabbed a law book from my nightstand and hit him on the head with it.

Immediately, the pressure around my neck lessened and I was able to breathe again, even though it burned. Dave’s eyes finally focused again on his surroundings and then he saw me holding my bruised throat. Before I could process what was happening, he got up without a warning and I fell to my side of the bed. He walked to the metal pillar between the windows and punched it, blood droplets spattered everywhere. And then he grabbed the same pillar with all the strength he had, leaning his forehead against the cold metal and started sobbing.

Now that the pain on my neck was dissipating, I got up and walked up to him, comfortingly putting my arm around his shoulders but he pulled away from my touch. “It’s okay, David. I’m fine, you’re fine,” I whispered, not showing how much him pulling away from me hurt.

“We should get ready to leave,” he spoke after a few seconds, emotionlessly.

Forty- five minutes later, David was driving us to the Blackwood Hotel. He had ordered me to pack the essentials only and I tried to respect that advice to the best of my abilities. After dropping of our bags at the hotel, he drove me to the Homeland HQ.

“You’re not coming in?” I questioned when I didn’t see him turn off the engine.

“No,” he replied drily, looking straight forward. “I’ll pick you up in the evening.”

Some other Police officer escorted me to the building when I left the car. “Flapper coming in,” the man said on the radio. I didn’t know why they thought I needed a bodyguard or even needed to leave my flat and go to a hotel instead. It was just me, Alma Guinness who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Now inside the building, I listened as Julia gave a speech to the media, Mike looking at her with such disdain I could almost smell it. Everyone I passed asked me if I was okay.

“Alma?” Susan asked, opening the door to my office. “The Secretary wants to see you now.”

I nodded. I had been hoping to meet her all day but I didn’t want to disturb.

“Hello, Julia,” I greeted her as I entered her office. “How are you doing today?”

“Better,” she replied, nodding forcefully as if shaking off yesterday’s memories. “How are you faring? Did you sleep well?” Julia asked, full of concern.

“Yes, I’m fine. I just need to stay away from loud noises for a while,” I answered, pointing at my partly covered ears. “Can I just ask you something?” I said, not waiting for a reply before continuing. “Why do I need a PPO and to stay at your hotel?”

Julia leaned back on her chair, rubbing her temples. “The press has been posting lots of photos of us together, talking and laughing. After the attack you were in, intelligence officers can’t exclude the possibility that you’ve become a target yourself. You know, hurting you to get back at me,” she explained. “I’m sorry.” Julia said truthfully.

“But, I cannot live like this,” I protested forcefully. I wasn’t angry at her but at the whole situation. “I need to be free.”

“I know, Alma,” she agreed, twirling a pencil between her hands. “But I don’t want to take any risks.”

There was no point of arguing further, I sighed as I left the room. The rest of the day went by in a blur because of how distracted I was. I knew, I had no proof but still, I was sure yesterday had nothing to do with the two previous attacks. There wasn’t a bomb, just a shooter. This was unrelated.

After work, two cars were there to pick us up. Julia and I now were to ride in separate cars, taking separate routes. David was silent the whole time expect for his quick words on the radio. At least, Mary the driver was chatty.

Now in the hotel, I realized my room was between Julia’s and David’s, with an adjoining door to the latter. Julia’s new PPOs were staying in a room next to hers.

David entered my bedroom, checking everything was safe before letting me in. “Have a good night, Miss,” Dave announced, closing the door behind himself and locking me in.

As soon as I heard David had entered his room, I opened the adjoining door on my side. His side was already unlocked. He was taking off his blazer and pulling off the tie from his shirt collar.

“How are you?” I asked sheepishly, making my presence known.

“Not good,” he answered with earnest, without facing me as he took off his bulletproof vest which much weight a ton. Just when I wasn’t expecting a follow up, he spoke again. “You lied to me, love.”

“What?” I snapped in disbelief. “I never lied to you, David.” Now, I was truly offended at this accusation. A few years ago, I’d learned that life got simpler if you just were blatantly honest and I preferred things to be simple.

“You aren’t just Alma Guinness,” David said accusingly, now approaching me. He was really intimidating when angry, towering over me as he held on to the door frame with such force his knuckles turned white.

“I am, though,” I confirmed. Crossing my arms over my chest to somehow feel stronger myself.

“No, you’re not,” Dave barked, moving away from me to go sit on his bed and take off his shoes. “You cannot be just someone when your mother’s a Portuguese aristocrat, your father’s an investor and your uncle’s the fucking UK Ambassador to Lebanon.” His face now turned towards me, his blue eyes piercing right through mine. “I thought you were one of us, but you’re one of them.”

At once, I knew what he meant but I still had never lied to him. So, what if my family members weren’t exactly nobodies?! It didn’t change who I was, but I certainly had bigger questions now. “Wait, who even told you about that?” I blustered. Was he spying on me?

“My boss and her boss,” he confessed, for some reason less agitated now. That meant I now knew what he was doing today: Meeting with Craddock and Sampson.

“Look David,” I said softly, walking up to him until I was close enough to touch him. I placed my thumb on his chin and lifted his face so our gazes met. “I already was my parents’ daughter and my uncle’s niece when we first met. That doesn’t change who I am,” I spoke earnestly. “David, this is who I am: A twenty-two years-old female who’s little over five feet tall, who sometimes blurts out inappropriate things and who has a tendency to make things more awkward than they need to be.” Finally, Dave smiled and he looked much younger when he did that.

“So, do you want to fuck or not?” I offered, unzipping my dress in front of him.

Later in bed, as he was now sleeping next to me, I was suspicious. Why didn’t he mention this morning’s altercation? Why was he so eager to accept my apology which actually wasn’t even one? And why did he call me love while simultaneously accusing me of lying to him?

I lied on my side to look at him. David was so beautiful when he wasn’t frowning, but what if this was all an act? What are you hiding from me, David Budd?

--------

“Good morning, love,” David whispered into my ear the next morning, carefully shaking me out of my slumber.

Not wanting to be blinded by the daylight, I opened my eyes very slowly but noticed that David had entirely covered us with the bed sheets. “Morning,” I yawned, not really a morning person.

Dave was really talkative this morning. “Did you always want to be in politics?” He asked me, his face only a few inches away from mine.

“No, I used to want to be a stay-at-home mom with no kids,” I recounted jokingly, not knowing if I could trust him. “And you? Did you always to be in the police?”

“Please, don’t laugh,” he pleaded and I nodded. “But I wanted to be a doctor.”

“I’m not laughing.” Why would I be? “Why didn’t you?” Somehow curiosity had gotten into me. Best to know everything about a potential enemy, especially now that he didn’t yet know that I was doubting him. He explained that he lacked the necessary connections to go to med school, so he joined the army instead. For tenfucking years, that’s long!

Sadly enough, I couldn’t stay in bed with him all day, trying to figure out what he was hiding from me. “I’m going to take a shower, love,” he whispered before kissing my forehead. “Be back soon.”

Just as he left into the bathroom, there was a knock on my door; It was an officer. Julia wanted to see me. I walked to over her room and saw her talking with Stephen.

“Good morning, Alma,” she got up from her chair to greet me. “This is Stephen Hunter-Dunn, from Security Service,” Julia spoke, introducing me to the man facing her. “I wanted you to be present because you’re also concerned by what’s going on.”

Stephen talked us about how he also didn’t believe that the 24/10 shooting on Thornton Circus was related to the previous bombings. “I would even go as far as to say that the Police willingly withheld their intervention, leaving both of you alone,” he confided in a serious tone. Why didn’t he mention Dave and Terry? Were they not people as well?

After that, I excused myself, knowing Julia had confidential matters to discuss with him. Entering my room again, I saw Dave scurrying off from the wall. Had he been spying?I decided to be smart and play oblivious.

“Hello bodyguard,” I chuckled as if I hadn’t seen anything.

A few minutes later, Dave left my room to exit through his door and hide the fact that he had been in my room all night.

“Sleep well?” I asked, hinting at our night as he escorted me to the elevator.

“Yes, miss. Very well,” he replied, as serious as he always was.

------

Again, my day went by in a blur because now I wasn’t just working on the RIPA-18 but also had access to the intelligence about the 24/10 shooting. Julia had given me the necessary clearance.

All I could think about for the rest of the day was Stephen’s allusion in the morning, about the police, aka Sampson, purposefully delayed their invention and the way Mike had looked at Julia which such hate the other day. Was there a conspiracy against her I wasn’t privy to? Was Dave part of it? Did I almost die because of some stupid conspiracy which didn’t even involve me?

I waited until Kim was taking her break to take my own so that Dave couldn’t come into the break room with me. I didn’t know whether the man I slept with was on my side, and it freaked me out. Most of all, it freaked me out that I didn’t even know what my side was. Should I tell Julia?

Back at my desk, I noticed I had received a text from David. “That dress looks good on you, love. Though I prefer you without it.” It read and I looked up just to see he was staring at me. Could the enemy really be so dashing?

------

“Want to order some room service?” Dave offered, entering my room through the connecting door.

“Not tonight, sorry,” I apologized, changing into some green high heels. “I’m having dinner with some friends.”

Dave frowned. “You cannot leave this room, Alma.” Was he ordering me around? Was he even allowed to do that?

“But I am going to,” I stated, standing up to check my new outfit in the mirror. “In exactly five minutes, to be precise.”

He approached me from behind, hugging me before resting his chin on the top of my head. “I cannot let you do that, Alma,” he spoke softly, but with authority.

“You can either stay here or come with me,” I insisted, “but I am going and that’s it.” I was sure that the conspiracy, if there was any, was against Julia, not me. The shooter was dead, I was safe.

-----

“Hello Alma,” Sara hollered at me as she saw us approaching the ‘Got beef?’ restaurant, hand in hand with Dave.

“Hi Sara,” I greeted, kissing her cheeks before turning to Cedric and doing the same. “This is David, my friend,” I explained as I indicated at Dave next to me.

We had barely sat down at our table when Sara pulled me to her over the table to whisper something. “When you said you were bringing someone, I thought it would be James.” She admitted, her brows furrowed. “Well, better luck with guessing next time,” I replied sassily.

“Do you want to have some of your family’s Porto Wine?” Cedric asked, knowing full well that’s what I always ordered.

Next to us Cedric and Dave were getting acquainted. “So, I’m a barrister at Allen & Overy, finance department, and Sara here is doing a PhD in Criminal law,” Cedric explained, before kissing Sara’s palm.

Dave wasn’t comfortable, in fact, he wasn’t even paying attention to Cedric but scanning the room with his eyes instead. Well, this explained why Dave had insisted so badly we take the table by the wall, at the far end of the restaurant, instead of the one which had been assigned to us. “David’s a Sergeant,” I replied for him, giving his thigh a small squeeze so he would focus on the present conversation.

“Are you two guys seeing each other?” Sara asked without tact as she sipped her cocktail. Dave grew stiff next to me, and I knew he was uncomfortable. Why did he come with me in the first place?

“Well, we do see each other every day at work, so I guess you could put it that way,” I joked, hopefully taking that subject off the table for good. David seemed to be getting more at ease when the food and the wine arrived. He was now in deep conversation with Cedric about some football team, Manchester United, they both supported. For some reason, I was happy he was getting along with my friends.

“You should come with me to a game sometime,” Cedric offered, obviously pleased at having finally found someone who shares his passion for that bloody team. “I have season’s tickets.”

Feeling bold, I placed my hand on Dave’s knee before slowly starting to move it up. Nobody would see, we were both sitting with our backs to the wall, and the tablecloth was long. Dave gulped when I brazenly palped his crotch but he didn’t remove my hand, which I took as an invitation to continue and went on talking with Sara and Cedric.

I was now unbuttoning Dave’s trousers and slipping my hand into his boxers when the conversation suddenly moved from France’s transition from the ISF to the IFI tax, to the Thornton Circus shooting without a warning.

“I’m just so happy no one got hurt,” Sara admitted. I hadn’t told her that I was there and didn’t intend to. “Actually, the driver did but that’s not what I meant.” With those words, Dave immediately removed my hand from his erection and re-buttoned his trousers.

Thanks Sara, that really killed the mood.

As were now getting ready to leave, I noticed how much wine Dave had drunk so far and he even asked for a digestive. I didn’t drink that night although I usually did. For some reason, I was growing wary of everyone and everything.

We then got up and left our table. Dave whispered into my ear, his hand on my butt which I thought was extremely inappropriate. “Don’t we have to pay the check?” He asked, but it was more like a slur.

“No, Cedric’s parents own this place,” I explained as we left the restaurant and walked over to Sara’s and Cedric’s flat, with was almost next door, for some coffee.

Instead of enjoying myself, all I could notice was how Dave wasn’t drinking coffee.

“Look, Alma, I don’t believe Dave’s the kind of man you need,” Sara spoke with earnest concern but for the first time ever in our friendship, her words disgusted me. Was he not educated enough? Was he not rich enough, or rather, were his parents not rich enough?

“You’re right, Sara,” I declared bitterly before grabbing my coat. “He is not the kind of man I need because I do not need any kind of men.”

“Come on, Dave, we’re leaving!”

Just as I expected it, he had had a few drinks too many and had trouble walking straight. “Let me drive,” I pleaded as we reached the car but he never handed me the keys. We hit a dumpster on our way back to the hotel, but nothing else, luckily enough. If anything, the drive seemed to sober him up since when we arrived at our floor, he seemed much more coherent and addressed the guards accurately.

I started undressing immediately as I got into my room. It hadn’t expected this night to run so late and quite frankly, there was nothing I wanted more right now than sleep. Or maybe, some candy.

Pulling the bedcovers back, I heard the adjoining door open and then I felt Dave’s hands on my body. He was entirely naked but for his boxers. “Sorry Dave, not in the mood tonight,” I yawned, removing his hands from my waist but he didn’t let me.

“I am in the mood, love,” he slurred, pressing his body against mine so I could gauge just how in the mood he was. I sighed at his persistence.

“Just go take care of it in the shower and then come join me in bed if you want,” I breathed, annoyed at his insisting behavior. With some strength, I was able to remove his hands from my waist. Just as I thought I had finally freed myself, he got ahold of my shoulders and pulled me into bed with him.

He was pinning me down, my face against the pillow, his hands holding mine prisoners. I tried to squirm away from him but it was a lost cause. “You can’t start me like that at the restaurant and then expect not to finish, love,” he slurred in his thick Scottish accent but all I sensed was the smell of alcohol in his breath.

“I’m sorry Dave, but I’m exhausted and you’re drunk,” I said firmly, but he didn’t budge.

“So, I’m just some room service that you order in whenever you’re in the mood and discard when you’re not?!” Dave groaned aggressively. Was this true? Did my upbringing really make me consider people like him as a convenience like room service?

In the end, I gave in and even enjoyed it. What the fuck was I going to do? Scream and make him lose his job? Sober Dave didn’t deserve that, at least not until I had proof he was working against us. Lesson learned, though: Do not let Dave drink.

------

The next morning, I woke up alone in bed. Keeping my eyes closed, I tried to improve my sense of hearing. Dave was softly entering my room from the adjoining door, still naked from last night. He was carrying some device; a stethoscope?  

Dave gave me a glance and I quickly closed my eyes before he could notice I wasn’t asleep. When I was certain he was no longer looking, I opened my eyes again. And there he was, with the stethoscope thing against the back of my wardrobe, finding the thinnest wall separating my room from Julia’s. Was this why he slept with me? Just so that he could spy in on her?

I was hurt, but most of all angry at myself. I was indeed sleeping with the enemy.

[thebluelemontree]

Hi there! I love your meta. I was wondering what your thoughts are on the fact that the sansa and sandor relationship seems to be a complete secret from everyone. including (especially) littlefinger. i have a few ideas but i'd like to hear your thoughts. :)

Thanks!  Sorry for the long wait.  I think the relationship is well camouflaged for a few good reasons.  Long post ahead.   

Let’s start with Sandor’s life experience at court and what makes him so particularly good at navigating around all the intrigues and informants.  

As far as “players” go, mainly we’re talking about Cersei, Varys, Littlefinger, and Tyrion, the ones who make it their business to learn as much as they can to stay a step ahead of everyone else.  Of course, they don’t consider each other players of equal caliber either.  In LF’s case, he thinks he is the only player; however, there is a common intellectual arrogance and bias among them.  Only a tiny handful of privileged, educated people are playing at the high-stakes table.  They tend to be far more attuned to other players at that table as this is THE game, the only game that really matters.  Other players are people they might consider an obstacle, threat, or a competitive rival for their objectives.  People that display a similar (yet still inferior) level of cunning to their own.    

That bias can lead to blind spots when it comes to how they look at non-players with their small lives and small ambitions.  Generally they are unworthy of interest unless they have something they want or are keys to unlock an advantage against another player.  Then they become a potentially playable pawn.  The next step would be to learn the pawn’s secrets or what motivates them to know how to play them.  They can’t imagine any pawn would be smart enough to be aware of a player making moves on them, let alone be able to put up a successful defense against it or manipulate a player outright.  Granted these people in question are undoubtedly intelligent and there are many who lend themselves easily to becoming pawns; however, I would argue that it’s very easy to manipulate people that already trust you or who want to believe in what you’re selling.  It’s much harder to manipulate shrewd people.  He’d never admit it, but it’s exactly why LF doesn’t even attempt to fuck with Stannis directly.  And very much like Stannis, Sandor has blanket mistrust of everyone starting at a young age.  Growing up around Gregor would also make him more hypervigilant than most, followed by his many years guarding Cersei that would only increase his cynicism.  And that’s really all it takes to immunize yourself against becoming a pawn most of the time:  awareness and a healthy amount of skepticism.          

Sansa is new to this world in AGOT and she comes to it a guileless open book. Cersei can easily figure out how to tease out usable information with Sansa’s innocence and trusting nature.  Littlefinger will later use her love of knights and songs coupled with the pressure of her situation to get her to leave with Dontos.  Again, no one should be congratulating themselves for being smart enough to manipulate a preteen that wears her heart on her sleeve.  Sandor is aware and he does try to educate Sansa that she needs to keep her guard up, learn to lie better to protect herself, trust no one, and use her instincts to figure out the truth behind the lies. 

Sandor Clegane snorted. “Pretty thing, and such a bad liar. A dog can smell a lie, you know. Look around you, and take a good whiff. They’re all liars here … and every one better than you.“  – Sansa II, ACOK.

While he’s otherwise displayed complete loyalty to his masters, Sandor the person has spent his life locked down tighter than a crab’s ass.  It takes a lot of conscious effort to keep all your true thoughts and opinions to yourself.  The mouth twitch reveals how often he suppresses those urges.  “Sandorspeak” is another.  There will be a few moments where some things do slip in front of others, but we’ll get to that later.  He’s also a character that is known for oddly being both imposing and easily recognizable to also making himself almost blend into the background of a scene.  With prying eyes everywhere looking for something of interest to pop up on their radar, being as unassuming as possible is a useful skill.  Sandor is also just as capable of using deception as any player.  I recall a line Varys says to Tyrion:

The eunuch took a cloak from a peg. It was roughspun, sun-faded, and threadbare, but very ample in its cut. “If you will permit me.” When he swept it over Tyrion’s shoulders it enveloped him head to heel, with a cowl that could be pulled forward to drown his face in shadows. “Men see what they expect to see,” Varys said as he fussed and pulled. “Dwarfs are not so common a sight as children, so a child is what they will see. A boy in an old cloak on his father’s horse, going about his father’s business. – Tyrion III, ACOK.

This exact tactic is utilized by Sandor while trying to smuggle Arya into the Twins.  He shrouds his face, changes his vocabulary to sound common, has a plausible backstory to go with it, and he successfully fools Ser Donnel Haigh, a knight that knows him personally.  That’s pretty incredible for a guy with a half-burned face and distinctive rasp.  He pulls it off because he understands how Ser Donnel thinks:

“How come he didn’t know you, then?” Arya asked.

“Because knights are fools, and it would have been beneath him to look twice at some poxy peasant.” He gave the horses a lick with the whip. “Keep your eyes down and your tone respectful and say ser a lot, and most knights will never see you. They pay more mind to horses than to smallfolk. He might have known Stranger if he’d ever seen me ride him.” – Arya X, ASOS.

“Men see what they expect to see” and that goes for the players too.  Of course, we have all the other examples of Sandor knowing how to lie convincingly depending on who he’s talking to.  Speaking of Varys, we know his spies have looked at Sandor at least from time to time.  His position as “Cersei’s dog” makes him a natural person of interest for those seeking an advantage over the queen or prince.  As Varys confirms to Tyrion, the Hound drinks, gambles, and whores on his off time.  Boringly typical manly man stuff befitting his station as a soldier.  No extreme vices or skeletons in the closet that could be used as leverage.  No large outstanding debts.  He can’t be bribed into disloyalty.  He displays no ambitions or greed for more than what he has.  He just seems to be exactly what he looks like on the surface.  A quasi-educated brute that is smart enough to know his place and is content to live on what his masters give him.    

“And when you know what a man wants you know who he is, and how to move him.“  These are Littlefinger’s words to Sansa.  Who else has any inkling that Sandor wants anything beyond what he already has except Sansa?  No one.  I think this line from Littlefinger to Ned shows that Littlefinger in the past has given some thought on how he could possibly move the Hound to become his asset.

“Even a blind man could see the Hound loathed his brother.”

“Ah, but Gregor was his to loathe, not yours to kill. Once Dondarrion lops the summit off our Mountain, the Clegane lands and incomes will pass to Sandor, but I wouldn’t hold my water waiting for his thanks, not that one.” 

If Littlefinger honestly thought he could win Sandor over by having his brother eliminated, he probably would have made it happen already; however, he knows the lands and incomes are not going to cause Sandor to change sides.  Not when that “favor” would come from the likes of Littlefinger with certain expectations for it.  Again, see the Stannis quote which uses similar phrasing of “X won’t be sufficiently grateful for your help.”  Littlefinger steers clear of shrewd people (and you can add Myranda Royce to that list) to begin with.  They don’t want anything he’s selling.  Sandor’s hatred for Gregor isn’t really the useful tool it would seem as there’s no way to capitalize on it.  He’s an apparently uncrackable combination lock.  Because no player can imagine that what Sandor truly wants and lacks is empathy and validation (something that can only come from genuine human connection), he’s not a movable chess piece for any of them.  There are far easier targets with more obvious vulnerabilities to make use of instead like Janos Slynt, Dontos Hollard, and Lancel Lannister.    

There’s also good deal of classism in play here as well.  Like most other people pretty low on the social hierarchy, they tend to be underestimated, overlooked, and ignored by their “betters.”  Indeed, Sandor himself is also convinced it is his lot in life to be nothing more than a guard dog.  There’s no point in wanting anything more than that as it will only lead to rejection or compromising the few principles he has.  This part at least isn’t a deliberate act.  He’s been so consistent at being the Hound for so long that even when he eventually does slip a little when it comes to Sansa, no one is picking it up and examining it.    

Sansa is assumed to be exactly what she appears.  A delicate, helpless, and insipid little girl too cowed by fear to do anything but recite her courtesies and prayers.  As Dontos tells her, being severely underestimated in every way makes her almost invisible and she can use that to her advantage.  

“Joffrey and his mother say I’m stupid.”

“Let them. You’re safer that way, sweetling. Queen Cersei and the Imp and Lord Varys and their like, they all watch each other keen as hawks, and pay this one and that one to spy out what the others are doing, but no one ever troubles themselves about Lady Tanda’s daughter, do they?”        

As time goes on, no one really troubles themselves with Sansa either unless there’s a specific reason.  Mostly she’s left alone and free to wander the castle, so there’s no fear that she’s capable of escaping or making allies.  Her maids are Cersei’s spies, but Sansa already guessed that.  Everyone is convinced (well, except Sandor) it’s her dumb, childish piety that drives her to the godswood so much.  Just by their respective circumstances and the plot, Sandor and Sansa were already as individuals hiding in the blind spots of the major players.

With that all said, why would anyone imagine for a second that Sandor and Sansa would have anything to do with each other?  Sandor has been an unwavering loyal Lannister servant since he was a boy and that makes him an enemy of the Starks.  He’s hard, mean, and rough mannered.  His face is considered terrifyingly ugly.  He’s shown no attachments or compassion for any other human being before.  He’s cynical about everything Sansa stands for.  Likewise, Sansa openly admires physically beautiful and gallant knights like Ser Loras.  Everything Sandor is not.  There’s also a huge chasm of class difference between them.  Highborn ladies do not fraternize with lowborn men, especially one as coarse and offensive as the Hound.  It goes without saying that nothing draws more immediate attention in this society than people transgressing class boundaries. There’s just no way either one would speak to the other in a too familiar way in public.  On paper, they could not be more different from each other for the idea to even occur to anyone.

There’s also the very deliberate gradual pacing of the relationship.  It all unfolds very slowly with time, circumstance, and natural chemistry.  It’s a relationship that defies any clear definition or obvious markers that someone could theoretically hone in on.  They both have issues of immaturity and inability to consciously understand what exactly this thing is between them.   Neither one intentionally seeks the other out to initiate more contact nor are they actively trying to further a relationship.  Until the night of the Blackwater, they were always brought together for other reasons not of their making.  Most often it’s because Joffrey commands the presence of both to be there.  Other times it’s pure chance like the serpentine steps or the top of Maegor’s Holdfast.  None of their more intimate conversations take place where there’s a possibility of someone following or overhearing.  If there’s nothing planned or intentional, there’s nothing to draw suspicion.  

There’s just not enough happening in front of witnesses either for a single character to notice a discernable pattern.  Often there are large enough gaps of time between those moments and the witnesses, if there are any, can vary.        

After Sansa II, AGOT (the night of the Hand’s tourney), it won’t be until Sansa VI, AGOT that they actually speak again.  This is the chapter where Sansa is forced out of bed by Joffrey, made to look at her father’s head on the battlement, and Sandor reciprocates empathy and support for her.  I wrote about the specifics of this chapter here.  Joffrey, Meryn Trant, and Arys Oakheart are present for part of it.  This early on, if the Hound’s uncharacteristically softer and gentler behavior was noticed at all, it was probably promptly dismissed as nothing.  Meryn is apathetic to whatever happens and Arys was probably just relieved it wasn’t him ordered to hit Sansa.  After all, it was Joffrey’s order to get Sansa out of bed, which Sandor obeyed.  Dabbing the blood on her lip though?  Perhaps that part was a little strange that Sandor took it upon himself to dab her lip instead of handing her the handkerchief, but then again Joffrey commanded that Sansa wipe the blood from her face.  That’s not enough for anyone to think there’s something going on between them.      

Next would be Joffrey’s nameday tourney in Sansa I, ACOK.  Roughly a few weeks to a month has passed.  Those present are Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen.  I wrote about the subtle Sansan stuff going on here.  The children aren’t going to notice anything and Joffrey is too obtuse.  Lothor Brune (probably already Petyr’s hired sword at this point) and Dontos Hollard are also present.  Sansa made up the story about bad luck to kill a man on your nameday, but it’s the Hound backing up that nonsense that persuades Joffrey to relent for one day.  I don’t think that detail registers with either Lothor or Dontos.  Then Sansa speaks up again to convince Joffrey to make Dontos his fool instead.  It’s Lothor that probably conveys the story without mention of Sandor to Littlefinger, who would then have the idea to use Dontos as a pawn.  Dontos is probably too drunk and too terrified for his life to notice that Sandor also had a small part in saving his life.

It’s also in that chapter that word has reached KL that Jaime has been captured by Robb.  It’s mentioned a few times that if Sansa is harmed or killed, there could be retaliation on Jaime for it.  Because of Sandor’s long personal service and loyalty to Cersei, it would then make sense to frame Sandor’s protective actions toward Sansa as protecting Lannister interests.  During the bread riot, Tyrion orders that the Whitecloaks go back into the city to find Sansa for this reason.  But then Sandor arrives with Sansa in tow and Tyrion hears Sandor say: “The little bird's bleeding. Someone take her back to her cage and see to that cut."  All it sounds like is that Sandor is using a slightly irreverent epithet for a valuable hostage.  There’s no time for Tyrion to even think about that as his attention is quickly drawn away to the fires in Flea Bottom possibly reaching the stores of wildfire.  

Sandor’s actions in the public beating scene in Sansa III, ACOK could be explained the same way.  

"Enough," she heard the Hound rasp.

"No it isn't," the king replied. "Boros, make her naked."    

I think Joffrey is too fixated on mixing violence and sexuality for the first time to really notice Sandor’s defiance.  And giving Sansa his cloak to cover herself came at Tyrion’s prompting.  

And that’s it.  That’s all anyone ever sees.  Sansa never speaks a word to anyone that she ever had any connection to Sandor.  When she’s Alayne Stone, a girl with a completely different past, that part of her life gets partitioned off along with everything that belongs to Sansa Stark.  

You asked me specifically (and especially) about Littlefinger not knowing anything about their relationship.  I don’t think he has any more ability to figure it out than anyone else in KL and somehow failed to do so; however, the parallels between him and Sandor lead me to think that these two will be on opposing sides in the future fight to finally return Sansa to her Stark identity.  Both are from small, humble landed knight houses that were established by their grandfathers.  Both had their childhood idealism shattered in an event that involves almost dying and severe scarring.  They both became cynical towards the system and its institutions.  Both have/had romantic feelings toward a woman too highborn for them.  Not coincidentally those women are a mother and daughter.  Sandor has his Hound identity to be the “butcher” instead of the “meat.”  Petyr has his mockingbird to be the “player” instead of the “pawn.”  There are some really important differences as well.  Just on a basic level, one represents plain, blunt honesty and truth.  The other spins “lies and Arbor gold.”  While Sandor still has the idealist deeply buried under his cynicism, Petyr’s is completely dead.  Sandor finds his purpose in service to others and he is neither greedy nor ambitious.  Petyr’s job may be to serve the crown and he plays up being lowborn and non-threatening, but he lives to only serve himself, acquiring wealth, power, and titles.  Vengeance is a theme of both their stories.  Sandor actually refrained from killing his brother while Littlefinger’s pursuit of vengeance has no boundaries against those he feels have wronged him.  Thousands suffer and die because of him.  It’s possible to go on and on.  It’s clear the two have very similar origins and backstories but have taken very different paths and approaches to life.  Both have Sansa at the center of their journeys.  This should come full circle.  

Yeah, I think he will one day find out about the relationship between Sansa and Sandor and it will land on him like a meteor.  It’s something he could never account for in all his machinations and in the grooming of his perfect daughter-partner-lover.  Think of the burning humiliation and devastation he felt when he “lost” Catelyn to Brandon, then a second time to Ned.  That would be the original wound that festered for over 15 years the point of him kicking off the plot to the ASOIAF series.  Now multiply that by ten when he loses the girl all over again to another canid-sigiled guy with dark hair, gray eyes, and that same plain, Northern face.  I picture this reaction:

[random-topics]

My First React.js Experience.

My name is Elijah. I started my software development journey this year. I don’t know exactly what motivated me into life of coding. Perhaps it is my affinity to trying what people consider difficult. I pursued an engineering course for my undergraduate degree where we learnt about another type of vehicles I didn’t know then they existed called satellites. Somehow I found it interesting to discover that there are people up in the sky thousands of kilometers away. Some place they say people float in air because gravity-the force that keeps us grounded no longer exist there. That is ridiculous. Right? I know. And so it was for me when I first heard of it. But it is true, nevertheless.

The past few months have not been kind with me. I can’t remember when last I had the 7 recommended hours of sleep. I have this burning desire in me to become the better version of me while I am still breathing. You know they say that the graves are the richest places on earth because therein lies a lot of unfulfilled dreams and unlocked potential. I don’t want that to become of me. That is why I strive to do the best to whatever I put my mind into. Coding is hard! If by chance you hear someone say It is easy, get it from me they are doing it wrong. 

When my school moringaschool.com  chose me as part of the small team to run the test program for the flatiron content(flatiron is a coding boot camp in the U.S. It is rated the best), I was elated for two things: My fear of having to face angular which everyone around confessed how  hard it was was lifted. Learning with arguably the best boot camp’s content I felt was the real deal.

React.js is believed to have a shallow learning curve. Well, compared to other competing front-end frameworks like angular. Although some will argue react is not really a framework but a library. That is not for me to discuss. At least not in this post. Maybe later. It is during my time of learning react that I have come to appreciate and agree that some things seem easier to do in the mind until you commit your hands.

Most of the concepts seemed hard to grasp. For a while, I never understood the concept of passing props from parent to children components and the whole aspect of parent-child component relationships. It took patience and extra practice to make meaning of it. I will not talk about useref hooks and some others because I don’t clearly understand what they are as of this point. My greatest support system has been my fellow students who are always ready to offer help not to mention the technical mentors who took their precious time to walk at our pace. I still am not confident working with react but I can see a promising future in react. 

All said, I am glad to report to you that through all the hurdles, I managed to create a beautiful application for my project. Beautiful because I never thought I could do it when I started. I was also able to align it with something I love called GIS. GIS is a geospatial concept that deals with location data. This makes it more exciting for me. In my new application S-connect students upon signing up are able to connect with other students with emphasis on those located near them. There is a map with students displayed on their home locations. Take a tour and see!

As we begin our back-end journey in the few coming days I am looking forward to new experiences and building great applications that are not only amazing but are able to solve current problems effectively as well.

Thank you for reading though.

[atomotus]

STUDY      :    ASHTON FOWLER      tagged  by  @fentasm​

—    BASICS.

▸     IS  YOUR  MUSE  TALL   /   SHORT   /   AVERAGE?   fairly tall ! ashton is 5′11′’.

▸      ARE  THEY  OKAY  WITH  THEIR  HEIGHT?   he’s really comfortable with his height, actually. it’s a stereotype that all trans men are short, and he definitely defies that.

▸      WHAT’S  THEIR  HAIR  LIKE?   brown and wavy, medium length. although soft to the touch, his hair is a bit thick, allowing him to actually style it the way he wants. 

▸     DO  THEY  SPEND  A  LOT  OF  TIME  ON  THEIR  HAIR   /   GROOMING?   absolutely. he spends a lot more time on it than he should, really. sometimes you’ll catch him in front of the mirror for a solid five to ten minutes to ensure his hair is looking good. it’s ironic, really, considering how easily it gets messed up during the day ! but that’s only fuel for him to check it and fix it in another mirror later on.

▸      DOES  YOUR  MUSE  CARE  ABOUT  THEIR  APPEARANCE   /   WHAT  OTHERS  THINK?   ashton’s appearance is incredibly important to him - from his sense of fashion to his hair down to the way he carries himself. all around, his appearance is how he presents and expresses himself, which is particularly important to him due to his trans identity ! on another note, although ashton is fairly confident with himself, he seeks approval from others. his public image, both for himself and for blue boy, is incredibly important to him. it’s ashton’s support, while it’s blue boy’s backbone. 

—    PREFERENCES.

▸      INDOORS  OR  OUTDOORS?   outdoors. ▸      RAIN  OR  SUNSHINE?   sunshine. ▸      FOREST  OR  BEACH?   beach.  ▸      PRECIOUS  METALS  OR  GEMS?   precious metals.  ▸      FLOWERS  OR  PERFUMES?   flowers. ▸      PERSONALITY  OR  APPEARANCE?   personality. ▸      BEING  ALONE  OR  BEING  IN  A  CROWD?   being in a crowd.  ▸      ORDER  OR  ANARCHY?   anarchy. he’s incredibly rebellious. ▸      PAINFUL  TRUTHS  OR  WHITE  LIES?   white lies. he’s notorious for that. ▸      SCIENCE    OR    MAGIC?   science - he’s learned that superheroes with ‘ magic ‘ often have their powers rooted in science, including his own. ▸      PEACE  OR  CONFLICT?   conflict. as much as he wants peace to exist, he’s an adrenaline junkie fueled by the vigilante lifestyle. ▸      NIGHT  OR  DAY?   day.  ▸      DUSK  OR  DAWN?   dawn.    ▸      WARMTH  OR  COLD?   warmth.   ▸      MANY  ACQUAINTANCES  OR  A  FEW  CLOSE  FRIENDS?   many acquaintances. while he cherishes his close friends dearly, he loves meeting people and having connections. ▸      READING  OR  PLAYING  A  GAME?   playing a game. 

—    QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸      WHAT  ARE  SOME  OF  YOUR  MUSE’S  BAD  HABITS?   ashton is notorious for his impulsiveness. he’s reckless and impatient on the battlefield. while he’s started to at least get a bit better with this as he’s matured, those are his worst traits. when he’s working in a team, he has a bad habit of running off to handle things the way he wants to, even if it’s not what the team agreed to. he believes that his way is going to be the right way - as if no one really knows how capable he is. so yes, you can also consider his cockiness one of his bad habits ! ashton also has trouble controlling his quick-temper at times, and he has a bad habit of leaving in the middle of a verbal fight after he’s said he’s piece. he wants to leave at a moment where he can feel that the other is in the wrong, and then, because he hates confrontation, he takes forever to come back and make things right. 

▸      HAS  YOUR  MUSE  LOST  ANYONE  CLOSE  TO  THEM?   HOW  HAS  IT    AFFECTED  THEM?   at this point, ashton hasn’t really lost anyone close to him. although he’s matured a bit as a hero, he’s still a young hero and hasn’t really had to experience that grief yet. the first time he loses one of his team members, he’s going to be devastated and may reevaluate why he’s even bothering to be blue boy in the first place. on another note, ashton is one of the few people who lives through the inf.inity wa.r, and that takes a massive toll on him. tony recruited ashton to help fight alongside the avengers because he believed ashton’s telekinesis is strong enough to help defeat thanos - and it could, yet ashton made mistakes and he had to pay for that with losing so many people he cared about. he really struggles to come to terms with what happened and continually trains himself, thinking that if he can make himself stronger, he’ll be able to defeat thanos when he returns - and that return is something that plagues his nightmares.

▸      WHAT  ARE  SOME  FOND  MEMORIES  YOUR  MUSE  HAS?   ashton really enjoyed his childhood, so many of his memories are from that ! he was close with his older brother and parents, and because his family was fairly wealthy, he has many memories of fantastic family vacations. aside from that, he vividly remembers the first time he played with his band the golden flight and cherishes getting into college, making friends, and starting his career. 

▸     IS  IT  EASY  FOR  YOUR  MUSE  TO  KILL?   absolutely not. ashton has a no-kill-unless-necessary policy, and even then, it’s practically a no-kill policy. he’s young. he’s in the hero work because he has a good heart - he’s not chasing revenge or running from something in the past. because of that, killing is incredibly difficult and it’s something he wants to avoid at all costs. he can’t mentally take it, for he does not want to bear that burden for the rest of his life and he knows how telekinetics are already portrayed in horror movies - he doesn’t want that to become how people think of him. 

▸      WHAT’S  IT  LIKE  WHEN  YOUR  MUSE  BREAKS  DOWN?   explosive. ashton has an incredibly short-temper, so if he’s breaking down in anger, he becomes very verbal and often says things he’d never say otherwise. his powers have the possibility to act up whenever his emotions are unbalanced, yet his telekinesis truly goes rouge when he’s having an emotional breakdown of painful distress. he screams, he cries - he’s dramatic, although he doesn’t mean to be. in true distress, he often accidentally unlocks new potential for his strong powers. 

▸      IS  YOUR  MUSE  CAPABLE  OF  TRUSTING  SOMEONE  WITH  THEIR  LIFE?   yes, he is. people trust him with their lives all the time. it relates back to something elast.igirl says when evelyn says they don’t even know each other - ‘ but you can count on me anyway. ‘ although it’s difficult for him to trust civilians with his life, there are heroes who he knows will save him, and he has other loved ones who he knows will do the same. 

▸      WHAT’S  YOUR  MUSE  LIKE  WHEN  THEY’RE  IN  LOVE?   he doesn’t hide it. he’s often flirtatious and just wants to touch the one he cares about - hand touches, cheek kisses, holding their shoulders. he’s obsessed with the one he loves and always wants to talk to them, especially texting them or sending them pictures when they’re apart. he enjoys doing special things for them, going on little dates, and overall just wants to make sure his loved one is both happy and safe - so you can imagine he gets protective over them, especially when his hero identity will likely put them at risk ! 

TAGGING:   @itsybitsyparker @starslung @boybcnd @hcpefell @suicidcblonde

[sly2o]

Unlocking Season 4′s potential: a Riley story (I swear this isn’t crack)

TL;DR: I think Riley was supposed to be a LI for Clarke, and Monty + Harper filled a story-line that Bryan + Miller was supposed to have, and that Miller was supposed to go to space.

We know that when the actor who plays Bryan abruptly left the show to pursue another role, which resulted in the parts written for him being given to a new character named Riley. So with the information we have, what was Bryan supposed to be doing in 4A and 4B?

Well first let’s ask ourselves…

What was Riley supposed to be doing before this shift in plot line?

Answer: Clarke.

I call forward as evidence:

1. The awkward hug.

Clarke clearly recognizes Riley, and clearly has a history with him. This is never resolved (and evidently never will be). Why waste the audience’s time with this?

2. Niylah’s out of character return

When the actor who got cast as Riley had to shift into Bryan’s role in 4A, someone else had to shift into what had originally been carved out as the Riley role. Hence the return of Niylah.

Why on Earth would Niylah want to climb into bed (so to speak) with the very kru that killed her family? Why would she want to tend bar for the people who executed her father?  After the violent interaction she had with Skaikru in Season 3 where they stormed her home - which resulted in it being attacked by ALIE - why would she want to be anywhere near Skaikru ever again? 

Clarke’s magic ladybits can only explain so many of these questions without some very explicitly stated plot - and helping make rations is hardly good enough. 

How Niylah turned around to accepting Skaikru is 100% glossed over... almost as if it wasn’t planned for. 

3. Niylah’s extremely lacking season 4 character arc.

If Niylah’s presence in the Skaikru area was planned all along - why didn’t she play a role in helping free Bellamy in 4x11? Surely she’d want to help all the people she had traded with in the past survive the radiation blast.

If her presence was planned all along, why did she play a bizarrely helpless role in stopping Illian when he arrived at Arkadia to blow up the place? What happened to the capable Niylah who lied to the Prince of Azgeda in the premiere of Season 3?

98% of Niylah’s role is season 4 was to be a place of comfort for Clarke to go to, where Clarke could exposition her internal thought process. 

Because that was what Riley’s role was supposed to be - and it would make sense in the context of a new character whose role was crafted to serve this piece of plot.

4. Timing of Riley’s and Niylah’s appearances

Niylah doesn’t show up until episode 5, which is a few episodes after Riley is introduced. In theory, if Riley had stayed in his original role this would have been enough time for Clarke to catch up with Riley and do her usual grief bang move with her old love interest.

Furthermore, the fact that Riley gets a reaction, introduction, and hug - and Niylah just sort of shows up should raise some alarm bells about how she was not originally supposed to be in this season.

What was Nathan supposed to be doing this season?

Last year Jarod Joseph tweeted he would be back in Season 4 in a “big way”… and yet the season showed us otherwise. Aside from break up with Bryan,  sharing moon-eyes with Jackson, and being a guy with a gun when you need a guy with a gun.

So what was he supposed to be doing?

Answer: part of the Monty/Harper 4B plot.

Supporting evidence:

1. Riley being built up in 4A and then being sidelined in 4B just to die.

The writers had to dispose of Riley after he filled in the role of Bryan in 4A. As much as we all love Riley, let’s be real, he was never Spacekru material. There also wasn’t space to resolve his character in the finale (see below) because Niylah had taken his role so he just got... disposed of.

2. Bryan’s planned path of descent in 4A.

We know that the episode where Bellamy talks down Riley from assassinating Roan was supposed to be Bryan. We know that Bryan was headed to a darker place with respect to his mental health. The break up with Nathan (or what was at least going to be the start of a line of major fights) likely didn’t help either.  Season 3 had already established that there was strain in this relationship (Bryan and Miller taking different sides in the Pike/Kane leadership) so this also wasn’t coming out of nowhere. Speaking of which…

The scene where Harper accidentally is linked to an Arkadian dying was probably Bryan’s last straw. But for Harper it was... the only straw? How did she break so fast? Being cut from the list could have added to that... but it seems a bit like she was shoehorned into a role meant for someone else.

3. People arguing that they want to live in 4A and then deciding to die in 4B?????

Both Harper and Riley are a part of the mob that are pissed at Clarke for creating the list and excluding them. Now just a few weeks later they are OK with dying? That’s not right. How did their anger turn in that direction so quickly? 

4. Monty on double comfort duty at the DNR den

For me this one of the most compelling reasons for why Harper was supposed to be Bryan.

I believe Monty and Harper were still supposed to both be at Arkadia, but they were both supposed to be there because of Jasper’s importance to Monty. This would have been mirrored by Nathan and Bryan also being there and having a very similar fight to the one Harper and Monty had in the actual episode. By having these two pairs there (Monty + Jasper, Nathan + Bryan) it would have really drawn out the parallels between these journeys with respect to mental health.  

But instead we essentially had an understaffed Monty running back and forth between two people to comfort them which made for awkward pacing during the episode. 

The impacts of Bryan’s replacement on the finale.

Nathan and Bryan were supposed to go to space.

If the above scenarios had come to pass, then Nathan and Bryan would have been with the Arkadia group, meaning they would have been able to go to space. If this had happened, it would have really helped frame Octavia as alone again underground isolated from her peers.I also get the impression that Nathan + Dad Miller were filling in a storyline that someone else was meant to have, to echo back to Tor Lenkin and his kid and really emphasize that “are we really doing this again?” parallel. I think the kid everyone joked that Jaha adopted was supposed to be that kid. Instead that new Tor and his kid got sort of shuffled to the side as the writers scrambled to shoehorn in how they would save Nathan when he had been left off the list. 

Emori was supposed to be kicked out of the second dawn bunker.

The Arkadians pushing around and then kicking out Niylah didn’t make very much sense... Why would her [grounder] people abandon her? Because she spent 2 months hanging out over at Arkadia? That seems a little bit like an over-reaction. Are we supposed to believe she was so bad at trading that she had no favours she could use to get picked by her people? I hardly believe that. Again - what happened to the Niylah who could boldly lie in the face of the prince of Azgeda?

Now go back to the finale and imagine it was Emori who got kicked out by the Arkadians — this is a highly believable scenario because Emori has no people to speak for her since she was cast out for being different. John following his heart again because they are going to make it together in the bunker. Clarke giving her helmet to Emori would have meant so. much. more.  on the heels of Emori being thrown out of the second dawn bunker, combined with how Clarke used the nightblood on herself instead of Emori. And then Emori saying “can’t we wait a little longer?” for Clarke after all that? Ugh my emotions.

...And now the crack

(Look I have no self control - I can’t write meta without including crack)

Was Clarke supposed to be pregnant?

YEAH I KNOW, OK, BUT HEAR ME OUT.

1. Why has Jason insisted on calling Madi “Clarke’s child” as opposed to her little sister? Is it a hang-up from where the plot was supposed to go?

2. Consider this: what if for “science reasons” the nightblood only worked because of the child inside her? Quite frankly we had an entire episode around why nightblood can’t be made in a laboratory on Earth, and it was enraging to see it work in the end because that means more people could have survived. It would have been much more satisfactory to see that it was Clarke’s unique scenario that that saved her life. (Also explains the throw up in the finale). Plus it would help stress in season 5 that Clarke owes her very life to her child which is why she always puts the child first. It also explains why it was six years of time gap. A five year old (remember, we lose almost a year because pregnancy time) is old enough/big enough to get into trouble on their own. Four years old is kinda pushing it on the “this is way too young” spectrum. 

Some Last Thoughts

Something I hope I haven’t stirred up, but that I will mention in case I did, is that I hope this doesn’t come off as anti-niylah/niylarke. My complaints are really that Niylah and her relationship with Clarke could have been done way better in this season. Ultimately it was great relationship for Clarke to have (and honestly, probably a better pairing than Riley + Clarke would have been), but the execution was really off for all the reasons I named above.

I think a lot of the pacing problems with the season can be traced back to Bryan’s exit. It makes me ask - why didn���t they just recast? But I guess that’s not really something they do with this show (except for Madi?? IDK)

I’m sure there are other pieces to this puzzle I am missing, but I find this concept so easy to lock in with the season that I just can’t help but believe it was what was originally written. 

Either way it’s unprovable and not canon... but I thought I’d share my speculation for what might have been with you all. Hope you enjoyed. 

[inkyleaf]

TG 132: Determination - PART 2/2 (M2F + RC + AR)

PART 1!!!

             A few footsteps were heard before the perpetrator spoke: “Jack, you can come out. It’s me, Kaitlyn.” Jack didn’t believe her ears. She poked half of her head out, convinced that she was going crazy. The real Kaitlyn stood in front of the bed, wearing a black jumpsuit fitted with all kinds of tools and pockets. She had rolled a small luggage behind her, and her hair was tied into a perfect bun. Countless thoughts filled Jack’s mind, but she couldn’t utter a word. Over the next minute, Kaitlyn rolled her luggage to the nightstand and slowly sat down on the bed.

               “Jack, will you talk with me?” Kaitlyn asked in a soft, personal tone. Her sad, yet serious expression made her look vulnerable. “…Who are you?” was all Jack could muster, poking more of her head out from the covers. “Jack, I-I’m so sorry…” Kaitlyn sobbed. Tears filled her eyes faster than she could’ve expected. She leaned her body halfway toward the bed, bringing some of the sheets up to cover her face and absorb her tears. “K-Kait, what’s going o-on?” Jack swallowed, trying to keep a steady voice.

             “I did it all for him, Jack,” Kaitlyn began moments later. “It was for your son, Cameron.” The girls sat in silence for a minute as Kaitlyn calmed herself. “I will tell you everything from the beginning, Jack. Please listen to what I have to say,” Kaitlyn said. Intense emotions bubbled in Jack’s mind, but she remained silent. “I am a Japanese spy. I was deployed to America two years ago disguised as a college student. I-I knew nothing…” Kaitlyn bit her bottom lip, “I knew nothing of America at the time. I was even xenophobic. But one day, your son Cameron approached me. He offered to show me around town – apparently he was smitten with me months before, but was too afraid to approach. I accepted, viewing it as a chance to gather more intel from who I perceived as a dumb American.”

               Tears came back to Kaitlyn’s eyes as she continued: “B-but, he was so nice. So sensitive to how I felt. Even showed interest in my culture. His eyes were big and genuine… I brushed it off at first, but we spent more time together as weeks passed. Before I realized what I was doing, he asked me to be his girlfriend, and I couldn’t say no. He singlehandedly changed my opinion on this entire country, Jack, and continues to do so. I love him with all of my heart, and I know he feels the same. I couldn’t be more thankful for that.”

               Another minute of silence passed. Kaitlyn took deep breaths before continuing: “But, my time in America is almost up. I must return to Japan in 48 hours. I was born into my job, Jack. I grew up as a robot, training for this singular purpose. I cannot quit being a spy – I would be tortured if I even attempted. If given the choice, I would choose to stay here with Cameron. Unfortunately, I don’t have a choice,” Kaitlyn ended with a loud sob. Jack swallowed hard before speaking up: “So, what happened to me?” Kaitlyn turned to look Jack in the eye. “The drink I gave you last night, it was a serum developed by my country. It was made for torture, designed to mutate those who drank it. I spent months editing the formula. I eased the pain as much as I could, but the ultimate goal was to turn you…into me,” Kaitlyn said with a sad smile.

               Jack didn’t know what to say. Her questions were endless, but organizing them into sentences was impossible. “Oh, and I lied about giving the rest of your family the drink, so don’t worry,” Kaitlyn said. “Don’t worry?!” Jack suddenly snapped, sitting up with her bare chest revealed. “Kaitlyn, I’m not you! I can’t be you! I’m a husband, a father, and a goddamn engineer! You can’t do this to me!” Jack yelled, no longer able to control her emotions.

               “Jack,” Kaitlyn began in a soothing tone, “this project was months in the making. Everything has been accounted for. I went to your family today, and we discussed that I would be moving in. I told them my ‘parents’ were forcing me to be more independent. You will still live in the same house, Jack. And you getting off of work early yesterday was my doing as well… I wanted make sure you enjoyed yourself as much as possible. I’m sorry.”

               “Bu-but… Why? WHY?!” Jack screamed, grabbing Kaitlyn’s shoulders, now more sad than angry. “WHY DID YOU RUIN MY LIFE?!” “Because…isn’t it obvious…?!” Kaitlyn trembled with tears on her cheeks. “Because I love your son and I couldn’t break his heart!” she yelled back with equal passion. Kaitlyn buried her head into Jack’s shoulder, crying more than her doppelganger. The women wept on each other for nearly 20 minutes. Jack’s fury only came out as helpless confusion when she managed to speak after their tears had waned. “I can’t just be you,” she said, pulling away from Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn wiped a tear from her eye before speaking: “You can. Remember when I said everything was accounted for?” Kaitlyn hopped off of the bed and opened her luggage, revealing a full wardrobe of female clothes and accessories. Before Jack could react, Kaitlyn laid out her wallet, phone, and keys on the bed. “I’m going to teach you how to be a woman, Jack.”

               “…No. Absolutely not,” Jack said, looking through the frilly underwear and dresses. “Okay, you don’t have to start with skirts,” Kaitlyn said, putting the more girly clothing at the bottom, “but you need to know how to hook a bra. Stand up.” “You’re insane, you know that?” Jack said as she stood. “You think I can’t convince my family that I’m me?” she continued. Kaitlyn responded as she cupped Jack’s breasts in the bra from behind: “Jack, you’re very smart. I know you possess that ability. But think about what would happen. Please, think hard. Also, here you go.” Kaitlyn put the bra’s hooks in Jack’s hands.

               If Cameron knew it was me, Jack thought, hardly fiddling with the bra, he would demand answers. Even if I told him about the real Kaitlyn, he’d only be depressed, and my appearance would be a constant reminder… Nobody would win. Nora couldn’t love me either. She may still enjoy my presence, but our romance would die. What if she finds another man, Jack swallowed hard. She wouldn’t find another man if she knew I was in this body. I’d only hold her back…

               “Please, change me back,” Jack whimpered. She let the bra fall to the floor with no progress made. "Kaitlyn, please. I can’t do this.” Waterworks returned to Jack’s eyes. “I can’t do that, Jack. The resources don’t exist. Kaitlyn approached Jack for a hug, but Jack pushed her back. “Fuck you! Get out of here, I never want to see you again!” she shouted. Kaitlyn kept a calm demeanor, realizing that her presence would only hinder Jack for the rest of the night. “Okay Jack, I will leave. Good night,” she said, walking out of the room.

               This nightmare has to end soon, it has to, Jack thought, trying to find comfort in denial. She concurrently racked her brain for a solution to living with her family with her identity known, but nothing favorable existed. I’m going to wake up tomorrow, and all of this will have just been a bad dream, she thought before falling asleep.

               Jack woke up at dawn again and rolled over to check her phone. A lock screen showing a happy picture of Cameron and Kaitlyn popped up before the phone was unlocked with her fingerprint. This is Kait’s phone… Jack sat up, dismayed by the sight of the hotel room. The bra from last night was still on the floor next to an open luggage of clothing, but the phone, along with Kaitlyn’s wallet and keys, were placed on the nightstand. No way. Upon further investigation, Jack realized that her own phone and wallet were gone, as the cash from her wallet was placed on top of Kaitlyn’s.  

               After such a debilitating night, Jack didn’t feel angry, sad, or even surprised. “This is it, huh?” she said as she turned to look at herself in the mirror. “What a fucking joke.” She bit her bottom lip, giving her breasts another upset squeeze before going back to sit on the bed. Jack dug through Kaitlyn’s phone for almost two hours, reading her past conversations, scrolling through her Facebook feed, and looking at the photos in her camera.

               “She’s good. No one could’ve suspected she was anything other than a fun college girl.” As the sun rose higher and higher, Jack knew she had to bite the bullet and get dressed. “Damn it all, damn it all,” she muttered to herself, struggling to properly hook the bra around her back. “Get in there, c’mo-argh! Jesus!” Her breasts were pinched and prodded as she tried to securely fit them in the cups, unable to know what felt right or wrong. Jack shivered as she slid panties up her smooth legs, admittedly feeling much better in them compared to her boxers. After throwing on the blandest long-sleeved shirt, and, to her annoyance, skinny jeans, she felt a small sense of accomplishment.

               Rap rap. The knocks on the door startled Jack. “It’s me, Jack,” Kaitlyn said from the other side, feeling it was best to not let herself in this time. Jack opened the door and stared at Kaitlyn as she walked in. “Well, what do you want?” Jack asked, sitting on the bed. “I came to say goodbye, for good this time. Before I leave, would you like me to help you with anything? The man ‘Jack’ has already been checked out of this room, so feel free to leave whenever.” “What’d you do with my phone and wallet? Did Nora call me?” Jack asked, desperate to hear any potential last words she could’ve said to the man she used to be. Kaitlyn shook her head. “I do not know, but the phone and wallet were terminated. Jack is dead, you are Kaitlyn now,” she said as monotone as possible, hoping that Jack wouldn’t fly into another tear-filled rage. “So I am. So I fucking am,” Jack said, pausing before continuing: “So you’re just gonna tell my family that I’m dead and expect me to console them? You’re a fucking monster.”

               Kaitlyn turned her head, unable to deny Jack’s words. “Yes,” she whispered, trying not to cry again. She had originally wanted to teach Jack how to use makeup, and perhaps convince her that decreasing her age by a few decades wasn’t so bad, but now she knew it’d be impossible. Jack didn’t have to be yelling to show Kaitlyn that she loathed her. We really don’t get happy endings, do we? Kaitlyn thought before saying, “I’m sorry, Jack, for what it’s worth. I’m so sorry… Goodbye.” Kaitlyn briskly walked out the door, never to be heard from again.

               Jack lay on her bed, taking deep breaths and wishing that time would stop moving so fast. She grabbed a bagel on her way out of the motel around 9 AM and immediately noticed that her car had been replaced with Kaitlyn’s. Of course. Jack threw the luggage Kaitlyn had given her into the trunk and drove back to her house despite being terrified of facing her family under her new skin.

               “Welcome ‘home’ babe!” Cameron happily greeted Jack as she got out of the car. Jack was taken aback by the sight of being shorter than her son as Cameron squeezed her with a hug. “H-hey, Cameron,” she simply replied. Her tone and lack of makeup was quick to catch Cameron’s attention. “Something wrong?” he asked as they walked into the house. You have no idea. “…No, no, just a little tired. I’m going to miss my, uhh, parents,” Jack replied, then continued, “Where’s your mo-I mean where’s Nora?” “Early shopping, she wanted to buy some things for you since you’re moving in!” Cameron said with a grin.

               Jack spent most of the morning studying Kaitlyn’s work and college schedule in Cameron’s room since tomorrow was Monday, while Cameron played video games in the living room. “God, she’s busy for a college student,” she commented. “Five finance classes four days of the week with a part-time job overlapping a few of those, sheesh. Almost wish Cameron was this busy.”

               A car pulled into the driveway hours later. Oh God, Jack thought, is Nora OK? How has she been holding up? Jack ran downstairs to greet her, dying to see and comfort her wife more than anything. “Kaity! You’re already here!” Nora squealed in excitement, then continued, “I don’t know how much you brought from your house, but I picked up a lot of new clothes and makeup to make sure you feel right at home, okay sweetheart? Aaah this is so exciting!” Jack didn’t expect Nora to be so cheerful, and couldn’t help but smile at her welcoming. Maybe she hasn’t heard the news, Jack thought, quickly trying to erase the concept from her head.

               After Nora unpacked and organized her purchases, she jumped at the first opportunity she had to bond with her presumed to-be daughter-in-law. “Kaitlyn, sweetie, I know how self-sufficient you are with your style, but I would just looooove to be able to do your makeup today since I’ve hardly ever seen you with a clean slate before!” Jack was thrown off-guard. The mental dam she had built to block out her femininity was crumbling, but she couldn’t refuse. “Sure,” she replied, bracing herself for further emasculation.  

               “Open… Close… Liiittle wider,” Nora repeated simple commands out loud as she dolled up Jack’s face. “Aaand, voilà!” she exclaimed 20 minutes later. “I kept it simple, Kaity. What do you think?” Jack pursed her lips to spread the faint pink lipstick, getting a clear look at her face for the first time in 24 hours. “W-wow,” she breathed, knowing she’d have to give an over-the-top reaction to make Nora happy.

               “I absolutely love it, Nora! Thank you so much!” Jack cheered, giving Nora a hug, surprised at how convincing she sounded with Kaitlyn’s voice. “Hahaha aww, sweetheart, I’m so glad,” Nora chuckled, then continued, “We’re going to be eating out tonight to celebrate your moving in – at your favorite sushi place!” Jack wasn’t sure how enthusiastically she should’ve reacted, so she simply said, “Wow, I can’t wait!”

               As the day went on, Jack took the hints to change into nicer clothes before going out to dinner. She kept the jeans on, but traded the white top for a frilly short-sleeved T-shirt, even though the sight of Kaitlyn’s bare skin was still unsettling. The family prepared for a traditional Asian dinner, where everyone would happily take food from any plate laid on the table. Jack was hesitant to dig in, never having been a fan of seafood.

               “Don’t hold back babe, this night is for you,” Cameron said, handing Jack a pair of chopsticks. Here we go again, Jack thought, slowly bringing a sushi roll to her face. Her eyes widened as it squished between her tongue and the roof of her mouth – Kaitlyn’s taste buds adored the food, sending overwhelmingly positive energy to Jack’s brain. Oh my God, so good! “Aah it’s so good!” she blurted, scarfing down the food faster than the original Kaitlyn. “Whoa, save some for us,” Cameron joked. The family ate and chatted the night away, and Jack felt happiness for the first time in Kaitlyn’s body.

               “Ooooh my goodness, I’m stuffed!” Jack exclaimed, falling onto Cameron’s bed shortly after coming home. “Me too, me too,” Cameron replied. “Too bad we got school tomorrow.” Cameron began to undress, bringing Jack’s mind back to reality. Before she could react, Cameron crawled over her. “I’d love to rip that cute li’l shirt off,” he said in a low, husky voice. Jack’s heart began racing – she was nowhere near prepared for this. “I…I…” Jack’s voice cracked as she tried to speak up, “I-I really need to sleep, Monday’s are so busy…” she finished, sliding out from under Cameron to look for her pajamas.

               Fuck, fuck, fuck, no way in hell, Jack was practically panting in her thoughts. I have to change clothes in front of him, don’t I? Damn it all. The anxiety of her situation hit her almost as hard as it did in the motel. Cameron was noticeably grumpy, making Jack feel even worse. She remembered to wash her makeup off at the last second before turning in for the night, wondering if she could ever get used to being a girl.

               Jack drowned herself in her new workload over the week, pleasantly surprised by how refreshing the feeling of work felt. She did her best to embrace womanhood in small steps, and began to wear girlier clothing on Tuesday, followed by applying her own makeup on Wednesday. By the end of the week, Jack almost thought she’d regained control of her life.

               Tragedy struck when she came home Friday evening. Cameron and Nora were huddled on the couch, crying their eyes out. The sight alone was enough to make Jack’s eyes water. She silently approached them, joining their embrace on the couch.

               “He’s gone,” Nora eked out with a loud sniffle. “Jack’s gone. The search team pronounced him dead.” The words hit Jack like a truck – she buried her head into Nora’s shoulder, unable to stop her tears. I’m right here, Nora! I’m right here! was what she was dying to say. I never left you guys! The family sobbed together for what felt like hours before Nora spoke up again. She stroked Jack’s hair, saying “The funeral will be next week, sweetheart. I wish you got to know him more, he was such a loving husband and father…”

               I’m here for both of you. I’ll always be here for you guys. The same thoughts cycled through Jack’s mind throughout the silent night. Her resolve strengthened overnight, and the purpose of her life became clear. She was put on this earth for Nora and Cameron. Her sex didn’t matter, her age didn’t matter, and her appearance didn’t matter. Her family meant everything, and she was going to be with them until the end.

               “Cameron,” Jack began later that night once they were in bed together, “I know I don’t say this enough, but I love you and I’m very proud of you.” She wanted that to be her final fatherly line, knowing that she couldn’t keep viewing him as her son if she wanted to make either of them happy. “Thanks babe, love you too,” Cameron chuckled, kissing Jack’s lips.

               Jack woke up early that Saturday morning and gave Nora a hug from behind. “Nora,” she began in the same tone as last night, wanting to speak to her as a wife one last time, “I can’t begin to thank you for how much you’ve done for me. I’ll never forget any of it. I love you so much, and I will do everything I can to support our little family.” “Oooh, Kaitlyn, sweetheart…” Nora began, touched by her words. The women’s eyes watered as Nora turned to hug Jack properly.

               Jack continued to break down her mental barriers throughout the slow day, trying her best to think of herself as Kaitlyn. “I’m not Jack, not anymore,” she whispered to herself in the mirror, forcing a smile. “I’m Kaitlyn. I don’t need to be a man to keep my family happy… I need to be a girlfriend and a daughter. That is what I am. I am...Kaitlyn.” She ran her fingers down and around her body, accepting all of the feminine features she had been trying her best to reject over the past week.

               Later that night, Kaitlyn opened her legs for Cameron, knowing he needed the relief. Her body trembled as Cameron crawled on top, kissing and pinching her from head to toe before teasing her clit. You’re a good son, Cameron. You deserve this… Kaitlyn instinctively thought as she groaned from the foreign pleasure. He’s not my son anymore. Not my son, I’m a woman. Make me a woman, Cameron…!

               Kaitlyn screamed at the first hint of penetration. Cameron’s strong arms pinned her shoulders to the bed. One of her hands cupped a breast while the other stimulated her clit as Cameron rocked back and forth, slowly getting deeper. The schlicking, pounding, moaning, and squeaking of the bed became louder and louder, muffling her scattered thoughts. It felt like hours before Cameron pulled out and erupted all over her face, forcing her eyes shut. She howled as she finished her own climax minutes later as Cameron cleaned up, unable to feel or move her legs. Her mind plunged deeper into femininity, giving Kaitlyn another accomplishment from the experience.

               So this is how it feels… Kaitlyn smacked her lips, awkwardly trying to clean her face without swallowing any cum. Cameron helped before cuddling up next to her, ready to fall asleep. Kaitlyn fell asleep in his arms, silently appreciating his strong, warm security.

               Days flew by for Kaitlyn, as she was absorbed in her work and bettering herself for her family, always making progress toward becoming the person she had to be. Before long, she was getting mani-pedis with Nora and snuggling up with Cameron for movies. Many tears were shed at the funeral, but Kaitlyn stayed strong and uplifted her family as much as she could.

               As weeks passed, excitement grew for Kaitlyn’s college graduation. Cameron and Nora suggested all sorts of parties and vacations they could go on, but Kaitlyn shook her head. “As long as I’m with you guys, I don’t want anything big or special,” she said during the weekend they planned to celebrate. She got her wish – the family prepared a simple picnic that Saturday and headed out to the wilderness on Sunday to enjoy it.

               Excited as ever, Kaitlyn made herself extra attractive for the occasion. She wore a tight, low-cut, zebra-patterned tube top and a short dark skirt, loving the feeling of the sun on her skin. “You look so beautiful, babe,” Cameron commented as they walked, holding hands. Nora walked far behind them, enjoying nature. “Just for you, handsome,” Kaitlyn said with a cheesy wink. The couple exchanged a kiss and gazed into each other’s eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, hon,” Kaitlyn breathed, enjoying Cameron’s embrace.

               At the end of the picnic, Nora pulled saran-wrapped Teriyaki-glazed meatballs and small vegetables skewers out of the basket. Everyone understood the message, and enjoyed them with extra appreciation. Kaitlyn volunteered to clean up while Cameron and Nora took a lap on the trail to play Pokémon GO, giving her some alone time to reflect on herself. The tiring weeks were successful in fading her memories as the man, Jack, but the final meal brought many of them back to light.

               The more Kaitlyn thought about her previous life, the more she realized how successful she was in her goal. She didn’t see Nora as a romantic partner, and loved her solely as a family member and motherly figure. On the other hand, her romance grew for Cameron with every passing day. The notion of Cameron being her son felt preposterous, and she wanted nothing more than to grow old with him.

               Kaitlyn thought back to the first days of her transformation, remembering how much she hated seeing any trace of her body. And now she loved it. Like any girl, she adored looking good and feeling a fresh breeze blow between two slender legs. Touch my legs! Kaitlyn giggled at a thought from last week when she commanded Cameron to feel her just-shaven legs. You’ve done it, Jack. You’ve really done it, she thought. You’ve become a young woman through and through.

              “Hey Kait!” Kaitlyn heard Cameron call as he sprinted up to her. “You okay?” he asked, noticing that she had hardly put anything away from their picnic. “Oh, haha yeah. Sorry, I spaced out for a bit,” she responded. “Now what could a brainiac like you be spacing out about?” Cameron asked in a lower voice. “Well, I can think of someone,” Kaitlyn replied in a similar tone. She wrapped her arms around Cameron’s head and back as they made out, loving everything that her new life had to offer.

That’s a wrap~ There are very few stories I’ve worked on as long as this one, so I hope you enjoyed. Thank you for reading. Thank you so, so much. :)

Patreon || DeviantArt

RC = race change, AR = age regression

[cantusgratia]

Headcanon

(( Disclaimer: these are my personal headcanons for my Kyrie and her family’s backstory and I will be using these are part of my canon for the blog and verses I place Kyrie in. But if you aren’t comfortable with me using such, or if you have your own HCs you’d like to suggest I go along with for threads with you, please do let me know so we can discuss it further! I wouldn’t mind doing so, if it makes it easier for your muse or you as a writer.

If you’d like to form a backstory/bond with my Kyrie/her family, or meld your headcanons with mine, or even form new info for our threads, please also let me know! I would love to discuss that with my partners through IMs, so don’t be shy <3 ))

(( warning: wall of text ahead. forgive me and my ramblings alsdkjg ))

THE PARENTS–

-Elías DiMatteis came to the island of Fortuna in the late 1980s with hopes of escaping his monotonous and yet stressful life in the mainland. He was a nobody in his homecity of Limbo, and he continued being a nobody in Fortuna up until he met and fell in love with a devout member of the Order of the Sword named Bianca Fernandez.

Bianca, whose sharp features, beautiful red hair, intellect, and no-nonsense disposition had garnered Elías’ heart, easily convinced this simple city man to devote his time to the organization as well. While she does reciprocate his feelings, her attachment to the Order and its vision to expunge demons in the name of Lord Sparda is much stronger. She believed that most (if not all) of her predecessors– the Fernandez clan– had always been affiliated with churches or holy factions even before the Order of the Sword had been established in Fortuna, and she aimed to keep that supposed family legacy going. If forming a family with Elías meant that she would have a partner to assist her in her works, and then with him have children to pass the responsibilities onto? Perfect.

Even before she was pregnant, Bianca already had plans for her future children to serve the Order. So Credo training to become a Holy Knight and Kyrie’s eventual path into the Order’s clergy as a vestal were heavily influenced by their mother.

[ Canon Divergent Verse formed with @mediumkat ]

At some point between Credo’s early childhood years and Kyrie’s conception, Elías– overwhelmed by the Order’s rather extreme and stifling lifestyle, and his wife’s obsession over only her work– left Fortuna to take a break in his old, dreary homecity. There he met Margaret Alexo, spent a few weeks with her, and realized that he had fallen in love once again. He selfishly lied about the life and family he had left behind in Fortuna, thinking he could easily establish a new one with Margaret. But he was a stupid and weak man, succumbing to remorse and the surprising realization that he severely missed that his wife and son, he vanished from Margaret’s life to return to his previous one in Fortuna. This was, unfortunately, before he was even aware that Margaret was pregnant with Katherine.

By the time Kyrie was born, Bianca only grew more distant from her own family, pouring all her time, energy, and total focus into unlocking more of her family’s secrets, giving the Order practically everything she had if only because she thought it was what her ancestors would have wanted. Years later, Bianca moved up to become one of the high ranking officials who helped Agnus develop the Ascension rituals, and in her eagerness and pride over what she deemed was the most amazing breakthrough in her life, she volunteered to work with more of Agnus’ projects in the future– only for her to fall victim to a demon attack during an experimentation with summoning one of the three lesser Hell Gates in the island.

The news was promptly delivered to Elías, though his children were told that their mother died ‘helping make a difference in everyone’s lives’. And then their father, struck by grief and the sudden fear that the Order might come to take him next for their depraved works, fled Fortuna once again– though this time he was never seen or heard from again.

Why he abandoned his children within the care of the very group he was so afraid of, no one knows. Credo, who was barely in his teenage years, and Kyrie who was four, grew up together in one of the Order’s orphanages without any hope or plan to find nor reconcile with their father ever. And by the time Credo turned 18 years of age, he was the one who took responsibility to reclaim their old home so that he and Kyrie (and Nero) could leave the orphanage and live in a peaceful house instead.

POTENTIAL MAGICAL LINEAGE (The ‘Fernandez’ clan)–

In the Order, Bianca worked for the research branch which specializes in exploring the magical field, a subdivision that aided in chief researcher Agnus’ tech and alchemy division. Nearly all of her ancestors’ official historical information had been lost over the decades, as they were once a clan of traditional nomadic scholars who exclusively memorized and passed down their knowledge orally, although Bianca was relieved to have discovered that her more recent predecessors have actually decided to record their wisdom onto journals. Certain documentations, while written in an intricate mix of an old language, Enochian, and Adamic, detailed the use of magic and enchantments– holy, elemental, as well as demonic– and the Fernandez woman was utterly determined to fully translate all of it into common Fortunan tongue to deliver it to the Order. Elías, too, spent years aiding Bianca in deciphering these texts, out of his devotion for her.

Through the written works, Elías deduced the possibility that those ‘scholars’ of old were actually powerful occultists. And though there wasn’t concrete proof that they weren’t dangerous to civilians, one story claimed that the very first of the Fernandez line was a member of a monster-(vampire? demon? It was unclear in the texts) hunting group which had been well-known during their time (or at least well-known-enough to be added into these journals). So if this family had been using such magic against monstrous creatures, Bianca was right to continue this… tradition by researching these spells and enchantments to be used by the Order against demons, right?

Bianca had planned to pass down these information and responsibility to uncover more about their lineage and use of magic onto her children, although she ended up being too consumed with working personally for the Order to even remember her own family most of the time. Then came her death, and the only things she left behind for her husband and children were her research and the name she made in the Order, proof of her neglect of them.

In a journal page that Kyrie one day found in her mother’s room, at the bottom of a page that talked about the family name there is a small note, handwritten:

‘Fernandez’ Origin: ?? Inaccurate translation?

[bigboobshaunt]

The 101 of the Battlefield of Dating

Soleil/Rhajat commission for @silentmasterofwinds

~2.500 words

Ao3 Link

Night’s dim veil had only recently covered the small town near the Nohrian border when the raiders attacked.

As luck would have it, Corrin’s army just happened to be passing through the area, as they marched towards their ultimate destination – the bottomless canyon.

What, exactly, was so important that was making them head towards such a treacherous area was unknown to Rhajat, who was one of the magic users assigned to help defend the town, though she certainly appreciated the local dreariness. It matched her spirits quite well.

“Ugh, don’t you ever give up?” She asked under her breath, before firing off a spell against a man wielding an axe, just as he was about to bring the heavy weapon down on her.

Her spell sent the man tumbling backwards, before hitting a tree and knocking himself out cold. Much as she hated being in the thick of battle, along with all of the sweating, she had to admit that low-lives who’d pillage and steal from the needy made for quite the convenient targets for her to practice her curses.

With a flick of her wrist, Rhajat hexed the musclebound man to have an intensely itchy back for the rest of the season, just to be on the safe side. Maybe this way, he’d reconsider his life choices, or so she hoped. Not that she’d ever tell anyone about it, though. This was her little secret.

“Look out, magic girl!”

The tonal dissonance of the preppy voice that had just called out to her, which seemed not to belong on a battlefield, was the first thing that popped into Rhajat’s mind, followed by the realization that she should follow its advice.

While she wasn’t looking, an assailant armed with a lance had snuck up behind her, and though the voice had given her enough time to react to the threat and escape with her life, she now sported a nasty gash across her side, having just nearly avoided the swing of the pole arm.

Borrowing the power of Vengeance, a spell whose function was to weaponize the pain of its user’s wounds to make their magic stronger, Rhajat blew back her would-be murderer.

With no time to celebrate the victory, the diviner clutched her bleeding wound, hoping to put pressure on it. It was at times like these when she bemoaned her own choice to forego healing magic in her studies. Picking a remote corner of the battlefield by herself may also not have been her brightest idea.

Just as she felt her consciousness begin to wane, she found herself grabbed by someone else. Though her first instinct was to fight off the physical contact, she quickly realized it was an ally, and she was in no position turn down help.

“Hang on, okay? I’m getting you to a healer. You’ll be spiffy in no time!”

As soon as her helper spoke, Rhajat recognized her voice. It was the same one that had warned her about the lancer in the first place.

Rhajat was reasonably certain she’d seen the girl among their army’s ranks before, though she didn’t know her personally. She had pink hair, which she kept long, and seemed to be a mercenary who favored the blade. Rhajat made mental note to thank her later, before she passed out.

xxx

“Time to rise and shine!”

Rhajat’s eyes fluttered open, and after a brief moment, in which her eyes adjusted to the room she found herself in, she recognized the girl who stood at her bedside.

“Uh… I suppose I owe you my thanks,” she droned out, still feeling too weak to really sit up, but refusing to appear fragile. “Who are you, anyways?”

The pink-haired girl smiled slightly, apparently not bothered by Rhajat’s less than sunny disposition. “I’m Soleil, savior of cute girls everywhere. I’m… sorry about not getting to you sooner, though. We were lucky to have staves and a healer at the ready.”

Touching her stomach, Rhajat found no trace of blood seeping out, though a considerable scar had appeared where she was slashed. “Terrific… whatever the case may be, it isn’t your fault, though.”

“Maybe not, but hey, I have a reputation to keep!” Soleil affirmed. “How are you feeling?”

“Lousy,” Rhajat replied, rubbing her temples. “I hope I get to see the nitwit who did this, just so I can get ‘creative’ in my revenge.”

“Well, from the looks of it, I’d say he’ll think twice before raiding villages ever again,” Soleil nodded. “Oh, pardon my manners… I might’ve introduced myself, but I never did ask for your name!”

Rhajat squinted. “I’m Rhajat, but… you’re telling me you went through all of this trouble for someone whose name you didn’t even know? I’m not sure if you’re kind... or just a little too trusting...”

Soleil shook her head. “I’ve already told you, I save cute girls, it’s just what I do! Besides, now we DO know each other’s names, see?”

“Hmm…” Rhajat mulled over their situation. “So, if an ugly woman was in trouble… you wouldn’t lift a finger?”

Soleil snorted. “Impossible! Every woman has her charms! You especially, if I must be this blunt.”

Rhajat wished she was strong enough to use magic, so as to mask her flushed cheeks. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” she lied.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you, right now, so that works out alright!” Soleil winked. “Unless you’d like to have some tea together.”

This girl was very good at this, Rhajat had to admit. “...Strange as it is to say it, I think that could be… enjoyable. But you must know… if this is some sort of prank, I will not hesitate to curse you well into old age.”

To that, Soleil merely laughed. “I would never do something that mean! Specially not to a drop dead cutie like you. We can go when you’re feeling better, just say the word and I’ll be there, Rhajat.”

xxx

“Forrest… Forrest, open up,” Rhajat called as she knocked on the door, knowing that the boy was still up despite the late hour, likely sewing one of his many new projects for new clothing articles.

Rhajat thought it might be a lost cause, due to the lack of a response, but sure enough, after a few seconds, she could hear the faint sound of footsteps coming from within, shortly before the door was unlocked.

There stood a boy with long golden curls, dressed in comfortable-looking pink pajamas with intricate golden embroidery. His face was noticeably thick with creams for his skin, but Rhajat was well-used to seeing him this way, so she thought nothing of it.

“This better be good, do you realize how late it is?” Forrest asked, motioning for her to enter his room. “It’s been a while, and now you show up in the middle of the night just like that...”

“My bad… I was only almost sliced in half by a brigand and then asked out on a date by a girl, I should have known none of that would pique your interest...” Rhajat shook her head, making a token attempt to leave the room right after she had entered it, before Forrest tugged at her arm.

“Heeeey, I opened the door for you, didn’t I? You simply can’t drop such a story on me and then leave!” he said, pouting as an attempt to appeal to her good side.

“I suppose I can tell you... if I really must,” she smirked, sitting down beside him on the fluffy bed to tell him of the events that had transpired in the last few days.

“Oh, with Soleil?” he asked. “Well, it figures she would ask you out eventually, it’s hardly a surprise!”

“Wait… you’re saying you know her?” Rhajat raised an eyebrow.

“I do know her, she’s Laslow’s daughter after all, and he’s Uncle Xander’s retainer, plus, she also fashions herself as Siegbert’s retainer, so we meet quite frequently!” Forrest explained.

Rhajat furrowed her brow. “If this is some sort of scheme between the two of you, Forrest… I don’t think you’d appreciate having bad hair days for the rest of your life... just saying.”

“Heavens, no!” Forrest protested. “It may be true that I’ve tried to find you a nice girlfriend before, but I don’t think Soleil would do something like that… she’s just very passionate about how much she loves girls, honestly!”

“Well… this does simplify and complicate things,” Rhajat said, scratching at her chin. “She did save my life, and if it were some sort of prank, there would be easier ways to go about it. Then again, I’ve been known to be quite circuitous about how I do things, myself...”

“Is it really that hard to believe someone might just be interested in you?” Forrest asked, and his question froze the usually unflappable magician in place.

The words that wanted to escape her mouth were all affirmations, but Rhajat had to push them aside and consider the possibility that she was wrong. Soleil seemed like a nice person, even if that type of person could be hard for her to read, at times.

“Maybe she is genuine, after all...” Rhajat mused. “I uh, I don’t know how to ask this of you, but… I need tips.”

With a smile, Forrest nodded. “First and foremost, you should just be yourself – don’t change who you are for someone else – I know it might be tempting, but if she asked you out, she must like you as you are, right?”

"Sounds potentially dubious... but if you say so...."she sighed. To say she knew nothing of dating would be an understatement.

“Now, with the makeup and clothing departments… we’ll need to do a lot of work,” he japed, to which she simply replied with a piercing glare.

xxx

It was time for their date, or, well, a little past the agreed time. Rhajat had procrastinated enough in making her way into the small town, towards the tea place Soleil had suggested, but she had come too far now to back down. Rhajat was nothing if not persistent, once she put her mind to something.

“Oh hey, you came!” Soleil greeted, getting up from her seat and pulling a chair for Rhajat to sit, in front of her. “I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t show up!”

From the tone of her voice, Rhajat deduced that the worry wasn’t all that severe. She could unclench her fists about that concern, at least. “I’m just… not really used to dressing up. Took a while.”

Truth be told, she had never dressed up, least of all in the fine cloth Forrest had picked out and fashioned into a dress for her.

She did like the red lace designs on the front, along with the matching choker, aesthetically, but in practice, she found it a bit too stiff and restrictive to wear. At least the black looked good with her skin tone, or so Forrest had told her. Perhaps this is why she always liked the color.

“It… really doesn’t show. You look gorgeous!” Soleil complimented her, before adding. “I mean, even more than usual!”

“You look very dashing, yourself,” Rhajat replied. If the fact that she wasn’t used to dressing up was imperceptible, the fact that she wasn’t used to giving compliments stuck out like a sore thumb. “So… tea, huh? I hope they don’t use any poisonous plants by mistake...”

“That would be a problem!” Soleil laughed. “I’ve had their tea before, though. Seemed safe to me! Not too sure about the mead, though...”

“Heavy drinker?” Rhajat asked, before immediately regretting it.

“Oh, me? Nah...” Soleil lounged on her chair, seeming completely comfortable with the scenario. “One of the mercenaries in my band is, though, and this one time… You know, I don’t think I should be telling this story before we have our tea...”

“You’d be surprised at how much I can stomach. Try me,” Rhajat interjected.

“Hehe, if you insist… we were commemorating a successful defense when this guy got a little too cocky with how well he could hold his drinks… but that’s not the worst part.”

“Oh?” Rhajat asked, making sure to seem interested, even though she actually was.

“We’re still not sure whether it was really the mead or something he ate beforehand but…  let’s just say   that stopping your rounds about every five seconds to go behind the bushes isn’t the best situation for one whose job is protecting the town, you know?”

To that, Rhajat cackled, remembering a little too late to lower her tone of voice. It could get a little out of hand when she laughed. It had often been described as creepy, in fact.

Fortunately for her, Soleil seemed unfazed. “As I’ve said, I really like the tea, but I’m certainly not taking any chances!”

“No arguments there… though I do know of a great hex to fix those types of problems…” Rhajat commented, deep in thought as she remembered her grimoires. “The ingredients might be a little hard to come by, though.”

“Oh yeah? Be sure to let me know if you need anything… I’m happy to go the extra mile to fetch things for pretty girls,” Soleil said, before ordering her and Rhajat’s drinks.

“Heh… so you say, but I don’t know of anyone who’d really enjoy collecting faceless sweat, wolfskin saliva and mandragoras… the last ones can even kill you,” Rhajat noted. “Would anyone do these types of things for someone else?”

“Hey, sometimes sacrifices are necessary…  I even know of a guy who pulled off time travel to be popular with girls. I look up to him a lot,” Soleil said, with a sly smile.

“Time travel?” Rhajat asked, taken aback. “That’s another story you have to tell me...”

“I think it’s for another time… what do you say I tell you over a second date?” Soleil proposed, lifting the newly-brought cup of tea to her lips.

They were hardly done with the first one, and Soleil was already into the idea of a second one? Rhajat took a certain solace in the knowledge that she wasn’t putting Soleil off with any of her comments.

“It’s… definitely intriguing enough to warrant investigation...” the magician said. “If you want to get together again, I wouldn’t object.”

Though Soleil’s plentiful smiles were already quite charming, the one she gave Rhajat now seemed to shine like the very sun itself.  Rhajat was usually put off by bright things, but the other girl’s warmth was simply too comforting…

“Then it’s settled!” Soleil pumped her fist up in celebration. “You’ll have to tell me a little about yourself too, I can’t be the only one talking.”

Rhajat chuckled. “Oh, I’m an open book… it just so happens that said book is a grimoire, and it’s filled with dark spells and curses...”

“Exciting, unusual and worth the effort,” Soleil said, bringing the comparison together.

With that, Rhajat realized she’d found someone who’d listen to her and still choose to stay. Maybe even the most guarded of hearts could eventually find a key to open themselves.

[meanwhileinoz]

People On Reddit Share The Dark Secrets That Could Destroy Their Marriages

We’ve all got secrets.

Things we are afraid to tell anybody. People will judge you, especially if your secret is messed up.

That is why we have the Internet. To post our secrets anonymously, facing no criticism and getting it off our chests as well. A Reddit thread revealed people sharing their darkest secrets, which could potentially ruin their lives. Read them below:

“Years ago my gf (we’ll call deb) and I were out with her friend (we’ll call Sara). This one day Sara had to pin unlock her phone each time to take one of many pictures….out the corner of my eye I saw her pin. I saved it in a note. Months later sara and deb were at my place and went to the pool. Sara left her phone indoors. I used her password and hit jackpot. Nudes, videos, message logs with some guy she was talking (well call jeff) to, along with tons of dick picks and videos of him jacking off…

With this goldmine of pics and vids I concocted a slow plan…..very slow. Slowly I broke off with deb but kept in touch with sara. I then created a alter ego online (we’ll call it Vanessa). For months I worked this identity so it looked real. This identity started following Sara on all social media (Sara accepted any friend requests). Vanessa blackmailed jeff. Jeff was given 2 days to stop talking to sara or his dick picks got leaked. He was chicken sh*t and dropped her like a hot potato. But Sara was strong willed…when Vanessa threatened sara to stop talking to jeff or her pics get leaked she protested…so I knew I had to change tactics. Vanessa disappeared for a while until I could get Sara’s phone in my hands for a bit. One day sara was over and ‘lost’ her phone at my place. I ‘found’ it for her the next day…. Not before I installed a spy app that let me keep track of her everything. A few weeks later Vanessa came back but now armed with the conversations sara was having with everyone. While tracking Sara’s reactions and suspicions, I made it show that Vanessa wasnt real….

Now all my friends know me as being pretty tech literate. One day im talking with Sara and she breaks down crying telling me how she been long distance sexting this guy and somebody hacked his or her phone and now shes being blackmailed by some stranger she doesn’t know. So she askes me if I could help her. Long ending short I made it look like jeff was Vanessa. I made it look like he created this person so that he could blackmail Sara into f*cked up sex stuff. Sara left him and guess who was the hero? Me. I caught ‘Vanessa.’ Sara was now safe because of me. Once we blackmailed the guy, ‘Vanessa’ disappeared… You know…for realism. Sara and I now had this tragedy…this hurdle that we overcame together. We started dating not long after. She was never going back to long distance relationships and wanted to try local….4 years later were married.”

  “My father never had anything other than boys, and my mother always wanted a girl. Try as they might, they just had tons of boys. When I was 6 they adopted a girl of also 6. Everyone was pleased, and she was quickly included into the family by everyone and we all took an immediate shine to her. Especially me.

We started playing ‘doctor’ at 9. This progressed to fooling around by our early teens, and into actual sex shortly thereafter. We’re both over 30 now. We have sex whenever we see each other. We also like to pretend we are twins when we do have sex. We’ve both had our shares of girlfriends and boyfriends, but we always kept it up even while in those relationships. She’s actually married now.

We still have sex about 2 times a month, more when the family gets together for holidays. I can’t even imagine the bricks that would be sh*t if anyone ever found out. It’s been close a few times, especially when we were younger, but nobody’s ever caught on.

  #3 From a divorce lawyer who goes by TheLadyInReddit:

“Client is an elderly gentleman, some type of retired professional. His son is a pastor. Everything about his situation seemed very normal in terms of income, property, etc. However, it turns out he had a pretty serious porn hobby and he was concerned his wife might find out and use it against him in the divorce. However, as I mentioned above, I assured him that was pretty run-of-the-mill these days and unlikely to affect anything. He then asks if I feel the same knowing the porn is not ‘mainstream.’ I asked what he means and he looks very nervous. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t referencing CP, so I pushed him on it.

The guy was into goats.”

  “My friend inherited a beautiful diamond engagement ring. The stone was worth $20K. His fiance was thrilled to receive it and flaunt it. Now his wife of 25 years, it’s still one of her most precious possessions.

Only I (and you 4 million) know that she does not own the original diamond. My friend sold the stone for $15K and an equal sized, substitute diamond on the day he picked it up from being sized to fit her…

The value of the ring was learned at appraisal, and was actually appraised a bit higher. The $20K was the number he knew he could get from a wholesaler in the district. It is still insured for the higher amount. The stone that was substituted is a diamond – and I couldn’t tell the difference. The money was mostly used to clear debts.”

“I’m an atheist. I’m also a deacon in an evangelical church. I’m not exactly proud of it but I try do my part to convince people to live like Jesus because even if he wasn’t god, he certainly had some good ideas about loving other people.

The problem for me is my family. I’m married with a one kid and another on the way. I believe that such a revelation would be devastating for my wife. I’ve tried to tell her in subtle ways but I can’t bring myself to just come out and say the truth. I love my wife and I don’t wish to harm her emotionally in that way.”

  “I am a gay man married to a woman who has no idea I am gay.

How is my life? It’s great. It’s pleasant. I have two beautiful children who I love more than anything. I have a successful job and a lovely home. My wife is one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. So that is my life.

Myself, however, the way I feel inside is not so good. I feel disgusted with who I am. Growing up in a Catholic household had me living in fear of being banished by my family for revealing my sexuality. That’s not something I’m afraid will happen, that is something that is a well known fact in my family. I would love more than anything to be honest to everyone. I am a coward though…

As ridiculous as it sounds I thought that getting married and settling down etc would make these feelings I had about being gay go away. Before meeting her I was constantly struggling with the fact that I might be gay. My upbringing made me believe that being gay was wrong and so I always tried to convince myself that that’s not who I was. For awhile it worked. I think I wanted so bad to be straight that I just made myself believe I was. I got married to my wife at 23 and for a short time after our wedding I was relieved. I thought ‘Yes, I knew it. I knew I just had to find someone who would clear all this up for me!’ That just came crashing down. We started having sex more to try and get pregnant and that caused me realise [sic] that I am a gay man. I’m not remaining in the closet because I’m too scared of my wife’s reaction. In fact she would probably be the most forgiving. I have decided not to come out because of my family. I’m not exaggerating when I say that they will disown me. They wouldn’t think twice about it. I wouldn’t be happy. I would be lost. Now that I have children that just scares me even more. I wouldn’t ser [sic] them much at all and that’s not an option for me… There are many things I wish I had done differently but I do not regret any of my choices because they’ve all led me to where I am today. My son and daughter are these amazing little people. I live in a great house with a loving and sweet little family. Our marriage (sham marriage as some people have pointed out) is a good one despite my sexuality. Our marriage is healthier than some that I know about and hear about. I have accepted that I may never come out and I’ve learnt to be okay with that. I will consider going to therapy too. This is the most I have ever talked about it. Up until now I have not told a soul and so I have really swept everything under the rug. It is amazing what you can block out if you really try.”

  “I once helped out my a female friend’s family by taking care of their cat for a week. Every day for a week, I would go over there and snoop around their house. I found my friend’s diary, and proceeded to read the entire thing. I used this information to get her to like me, and she is currently my wife.”

  “I have lesbian sex with my best friend about once a month. Neither of us say anything to our husbands. We drink a good bottle of wine, get tipsy, get nasty, and fall asleep. When we wake up, we laugh, kiss, and go about our lives.”

“No ones going to probably find this comment, but I have an addiction to prostitutes. I can’t control myself. I’m also married and my wife has no idea. I spent $2000 on our credit card while she was overseas for 3 weeks. I lied and told her that I had a gambling problem, that’s why I spent so much. Little does she know, I was bringing hookers home.”

  “I’m a guy with a foot fetish. And I -never- told my wife even though she has amazing feet. BUT it gets worse – I have a weird twist to my foot fetish. I’m really into ‘pedal pumping’ (i guess that’s the closest way to describe it) and I’m mortified to tell her or anyone else, and never have. When I was a little kid we spent a LOT of time at church during the week for mom’s choir practice and there was a decent looking piano player lady who would kick off her shoes and play the piano barefoot. And even though I knew nothing of my sexuality, I remember Saturday afternoons, being up on the stage/pulpit during boring choir practice, laying on the carpet, playing with Matchbox cars and trying not to make it seem glaringly obvious that I was transfixed watching this lady’s bare foot pushing on that piano pedal…

I was totally transfixed, and it continues to this day. Women playing pianos, organs, driving barefoot, using a sewing machine barefoot. My fantasies usually always involve me imagining myself as the pedal, and the woman has a sexy bare, nylon, or sock clad foot. If it’s a smelly foot even better. I feel guilty and stupid to this day. Why on earth would a fetish like that develop when I was a prepubescent kid?”

  “When i was in 8th grade i fell in love with my girlfriend. I never thought it would be possible for someone so young could have such strong feelings. The relationship didn’t last more than three months because my mom and step-dad divorced and i had to move. I thought about her every day since i moved away. I met another person and have been married for 20 years now. I have four kids and have no complaints about my wife. Five years ago through social media i was able to correspond with 8th grade girlfriend. It turns out that she still has feelings for me too. I have been faithful to my wife for our entire marriage but want more than anything to be with my first love.”

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