#also i know that the posters shouldn’t look like her teenage self

[princescar]

Twinning.

[dat-town]

not gonna miss this chance

Characters: Han Seojun & soloist!female reader

Genre: fluff

Setting: true beauty au, set a year after the tv show’s ending timeline

Summary: Your career is on the verge of ending, hence your management puts you up to do a duet with the infamous Han Seojun. You have heard too many rumours about him to keep track of and yet, none of them could have prepared you for the feelings that came with meeting him.

Words: 4.1k

Self indulgent little snippet because he deserves happiness too.

You had heard of Han Seojun before meeting him, of course you had. Everybody who was in the industry had heard of the hot trend of a Newstagram star-turned idol and his band's shining debut from a year ago. They were told to have snatched teenage girls hearts all over Korea with their good looks and soulful music. You had heard their title track and you had to admit it was nice but nice wasn't enough in a cut-throat industry like entertainment.

Look at you, starting training at twelve, debuting at fifteen and now barely twenty-one you were on the verge of becoming a thrown away doll. Once you had been called cute and the it girl of your generation and now? People were saying you got boring just because your music had matured. Gosh, you couldn't keep singing about first love like your hit song had been for the rest of your life for god's sake. Your last album had been a flop, your company had been losing money and you were still afraid that even with a year left of your contract, they would cut you. But your manager had begged them for a chance and here it was: a collaboration with the newest love of Korea.

But the thing was, Han Seojun had quite a reputation and you didn't know who to believe. Some said he was well-mannered and hard-working. Others gossiped that he was always flirting with his makeup artists and Chen claimed he had been rude to her even when he had just been a ‘nobody’. Not that you were particularly fond of Chen either but as a fellow solo female singer you were a tad bit worried how the infamous singer would treat you.

Well, standing in front of Move Entertainment, you were just about to find out. Taking a shallow breath you followed your manager's lead, bowing to the receptionist and getting into the elevator after taking your visitor's badge. You had heard the company has gone through many changes after the executives were replaced due to the revealed Seyeon scandal but everything looked expensive, shiny and new, unlike in your small agency.

“Hey, I’m Lim Heekyung, nice to meet you. Seojun will be in a minute, too,” a woman in a pantsuit walked up to you on the right floor with a confident smile as she introduced herself. She led you to a meeting room which was apparently customized for a few people only and started preparing papers. She looked excited which was a relief and nice to see, at least someone from Move Entertainment was happy for this project apparently. You were a bit afraid they would see you like a leech, trying to cling onto their new star’s popularity.

“Shall we start? Seojun is a fan of dramatic entrances anyways,” Miss Lim laughed joyfully as if it wasn’t new to her that the idol didn’t make it on time. Ah yeah, you had heard rumours saying that he had something on the company and that was why they were so lenient with him.

You sat in silence, let your manager do the talk about the collaboration project. Seojun could play the guitar, you could play the piano, apparently it was perfect for a ballad duet, though if you used instruments yourself it added to the preparations time. But luckily, there was a songwriter named Leo at the company who had already sent in a few samples specifically for Seojun, so you didn’t have to start from zero.

“Ah, I see you started without me. What did I miss?” A tall boy opened the door wide and flipped down onto the chair across you casually. He had grown into his lanky limbs and with those wide shoulders hugged by the leather jacket, helix earrings in one ear and soft brown hair brushed to one side, it wasn’t a surprise how many female fans swooned over him. But there were a lot of handsome boys in the business, just his looks – no matter how confident he was in them based on the way he carried himself – wouldn’t make a difference.

Miss Lim patiently let Seojun know about the advances and only when she mentioned your name, did the boy glance at you. His dark brown eyes had a sharp form, just as piercing as his gaze, but the cunning smile spreading over his lips softened it a bit. He looked at you as if he wanted to see through you, to figure out how he should have approached you. You expected a snarky or arrogant comment, but in the end, he just flashed a blinding smile at you, one you could see on his posters, before turning back to Miss Lim.

“What’s the schedule?” he asked simply and you both were notified about the deadline of deciding and finalizing the song, the dates of planned recording sessions and the photoshoot. Since there would be no promotion period, it all would be done within a month and half from start to finish. You were a bit relieved hearing that and leave Move Entertainment without any confrontation.

You thought you were good at masking your wary feelings since the further meetings went well and the first recording session went okay-ish. Although both of you had been a bit scolded by the producer for not putting enough feelings into your singing. He claimed that the demo sent by Leo was much more emotional which made Seojun scoff and mumble under his nose. The PD called it for a day, making you promise to practice for next time and one by one they all left. Your manager told you that he would bring the car while you refresh yourself in the bathroom, so you really didn’t expect anyone to wait for you when you stepped out of the restroom, much less Han Seojun.

"Spit it out," he bit out barely glancing your way as he leaned against the corridor’s wall.

"What?" you spluttered as you were really taken aback by his out of blue appearance and question. The guy let out a tired sigh at your obliviousness and pushed himself away from the wall just to walk up to you, towering over your height with his.

"You look at me as if I killed your hamster or something. Which rumour about me bothers you? I fucking can't keep walking on eggshells around you, especially when it's just the two of us," he tsked and you gulped at the sudden called out. You didn’t think it bothered him, or that he was considerate enough to ‘walk on eggshells around you’, you merely thought he was so distant from everybody. It was still better than what Chen had told you.

"Oh, I… nothing. It's stupid. Sorry," you mumbled, feeling embarrassed for your your actions but Seojun apparently wasn’t satisfied without a real answer as he carried on:

"I didn't bully kids in high school but I threatened ones that deserved it, I didn't only get a pity chance from the entertainment, one of our makeup artists is actually one of my best friends, I'm not…"

"Chen told me you are rude and arrogant and have no respect for girls," you blurted out to stop him from speaking because you felt like you didn’t deserve to hear all that. He didn’t owe you any explanation for the way he was. You were just co-workers for a project after all, you had no place in his life, nor he had in yours, so he shouldn’t have been that bothered by your opinion but you understood that he felt uncomfortable due to your silent accusations.

Hearing your hasty interruption, the singer scoffed, a laugh-like sound leaving his mouth.

"Well, I have no respect for girls like Chen who harass my friends and turn their lives into hell just to go on a date with me," he said and it made you blink slowly.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Check your facts before you go around believing such crap," Seojun stepped back with a roll of his eyes.

The whole situation made you feel made about how you acted, so you wished to apologise but it fell from your lips all too carelessly: "Sorry, I was just worried. This is my last chance, so–"

"Last chance?" the guy quirked a brow at you, curious but you quickly waved his question away.

"Nevermind, I just need this song to do well."

"Of course, it will. I'm Han Seojun, it will turn to gold under my hands," he grinned and made eccentric gestures as if he was about to do magic. You couldn't help a smile. “Or well, vocal chords.”

And turn it to gold, he did.

The rest of your recording sessions went smoother, even the previously grumpy PD complimented your for the development in your chemistry. Funny, you wouldn’t have thought that the wall pulled up between the two of you mattered that much, but at least you didn’t have a knot in your stomach, nor did you worry about every small thing you did around Han Seojun. He also acted more casual, more playful, joking around when both of you had a bit of time to take a breather. He snapped silly pictures, showed off with his height, smirked when he got too close but despite all his bravado and lowkey flirting, you believed even he wouldn’t have jeopardised his career over something like this.

Maybe that's why wrapping up the recording felt a tad bit weird: you got used to his presence, his jokes, his beautiful, deep voice that you could have fallen asleep to. Sure, sometimes he was cocky, a bit rough around the edges but he was a great singer and a fun guy. The project seemed to work out well and you loved it a lot, so you hoped the listeners would appreciate it as well.

But before all that you had one photo shoot together for the promotional pictures and the single's cover. You were grateful for the simple pastel colour background and elegant setting. The warm light latte colour and the clock in the background really fit the song's vibe. Luckily, your dress was decent and pretty as well, you didn't have to feel uncomfortable in it at least.  However, you didn’t expect that happy yelp coming from one of the makeup artists stepping into the dressing room. You turned to face the girl, wondering whether she was your fan judged by her excitement.

"Oh my! I'm so happy to finally meet you! Seojun told us about you so much!" she beamed at you which obviously took you back. Well, that you didn’t expect at all. He spoke of you to others? Ah. Apparently to the makeup artist who was most probably that certain one of his best friends he had told you about?

"Don't exaggerate, Imju, I mentioned her like what… once?" Seojun walked in on cue. He rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, trying to avert the topic. "How's Suho?"

You had know idea who that said guy was but after a moment or two you could breathe properly once again while listening to their chatting.

“Just the usual. He’s excited about your duet.”

“Of course, he is,” Seojun grinned, a bit snarky but you could hear the proud undertones of it. When he looked at you, you were surprised by him leaning close though as he quieted down until only you could hear it. “Don’t worry, Jugyeong is really good and just stop her if she gets too gossip-y.”

“Are you talking about me behind my back, hah, Han Seojun?” The pretty girl called Jugyeong raised her fist as if she was about to hit the idol but he just laughed it off and left you two alone when he was hurried onto the set to start with his individual shoots.

“Have you known each other for a long time?” you couldn’t help but wonder as you were seated to get your makeup from her.

“Ah, almost 4 years, I think. We went to high school together. Plus, he’s best friends with my boyfriend. Though, they are always bickering like a married couple,” Jugyeong chuckled joyfully as she started with the cushion. You closed your eyes, listening as she kept going on about the time when Seojun had been obsessed with his motorbike, getting into trouble with his mother. It was strange hearing about a whole other side of him, mama's boy but the image tugged on your mouth, making you smile even though you weren't sure you had the right to know all that. You also learned that Seojun's sister was dating Jugyeong's brother and you felt so involved with the girl's trust albeit it was your last meeting, you were sure Seojun must have only told good things about you.

Hence, you felt shy under his knowing gaze when you walked out of the dressing room. He must have known that Jugyeong couldn't shut up for the life of her, so he looked a bit uncertain, too, stretching the back of his neck, forcing a cunning smile onto his smile when you took your place next to him.

To fit the ballad's theme, the setting was a piano decorated with flowers and you were instructed to sit beside him as if you were about to play a four hands piece. As you did what you had been told, you were very much aware of the way your arms brushed, his long fingers over the keys close to yours, his smile small but genuine.

"Great, great, guys! Someone help her onto the piano and Seojun, stand in front of her," the photographer directed the next scene but before any staff members would have rushed up to you, the singer next to you shushed them.

"I can do it," he insisted as he stood up and looked you in the eyes, silently asking for permission. You nodded while holding your breath back before Seojun put his hands on your waist above the fluffy tulle skirt part and counting on three, he lifted you onto the lid of the beautiful instrument.

You crossed your legs, watching in awe as your pink skirt fell down on waves  but your breath hitched for an entirely different reason when you looked up, gaze meeting Seojun's feline eyes trained on you. You had never seen him look at you like that, lacking playfulness or suspicion or curiosity. He looked open, vulnerable, outright starstruck. Your lips parted meaning to ask something but your brain shut off when you heard the shutter of the camera go down and the director yelling compliments at you. It made you snap out of it and later, you blamed the evident blush on your cheeks on the makeup. Seojun blinked too, his guarded expression back in no time, finishing the photo shoot professionally, always lingering close to you, but never touching you. Even though you wouldn’t have minded.

"Hey," Seojun peeked into your dressing room just as you were about to leave, packing up, with a smile on his mouth and sparkles in his deep brown eyes. But unlike half an hour ago when he wore a fancy suit and looked at you like a prince would have looked at his princess, he acted just as casual as he looked in his denim jacket over dark tee. "Wanna grab something with me if you finished for today?"

His question took you back but first thing first you glanced towards your manager, eyes begging for permission which you had gotten with a sigh.

"Just be discreet and call me if you need me to pick you up," your manager shrugged, leaving you two alone with a knowing look that told you to be careful. You didn't need to be told though, you knew how much depended on the current public response to your image.

"Seems like a green light. Have you thought of anything specific?" you turned back to the boy with a subtle smile.

"Not really but I know a few less frequent, secluded places to avoid much talk about us," he said and you nodded, following his lead. Masks, caps and hoodies on, you barely talk on your way to the tent with the lovely ahjumma who welcomed Seojun (two heads taller than her) with a pinch of his cheeks and told you to get seated.

"Are you a regular here?" you inquire, carefully pulling down your mask since not many people are around.

"You could say that," the boy hummed letting you adjust to the place at your own pace, not pressuring you with extra reassessments about how safe it is there. Yet, he is so casual as if he wasn't afraid of a getting mobbed by Dispatch out of the blue. Not that it happened to you a lot of times but you heard stories and at such a crucial time in your career, you feared something like that more than anything.

"Do you want to come up to mine instead?" Seojun blurted out suddenly which made you wide eyed in a span of a moment as you splattered out a surprised yelp. "Come on, I don't mean anything by it. You just look really nervous being in the public," the singer said, his deep voice softening, soothing by the end and you needed to take a breather before answering. You didn't think it was so obvious but apparently you had never been a good liar with him.

In the end, you decided on going over to Seojun's place, so he asked the ahjumma to pack your food to go and you headed towards his flat a few blocks from the company. It was a small but cozy place, much softer and brighter than you expected, lots of pastels and photos of friends and family. While the boy busied himself in the kitchen, getting you plates, chopsticks and beer, you were encouraged to look around and you couldn't help but smile at his photos with not only his band members but high school friends, too. You had seen photos of his graduation with Jugyeong, then another one of his debut with her and another guy.  He was a recurring person on a lot of pictures, so you assumed that he was the so-called Suho.

"He's Jugyeong's boyfriend," Seojun affirmed as he walked up to you which you acknowledged with a hum and smiled at his photos with his sister and mother. The makeup artist was right when she said he was only tough on the outside.

"You knew Seyeon?" you whispered as your gaze shifted of a picture of three boys smiling widely into the camera. The middle one was the talented boy you had known  from the news of his committed suicide. Such a tragedy.

"Uhum. We were best friends. Him, Suho and me," Seojun nodded and without having to ask, he told you how they had gotten to know each other, what were their favourite past time activities and how they fell apart when he died. You could see he was hurting even now as he was talking about it, so you grazed your fingers against his knuckles as though to say you were there for him to listen, or whatever he needed.

Talking about his best friends and how a group of guys including someone named Chorong stuck by his side over the years warmed your heart. It was nice to know that not everyone had it as lonely as you who basically missed out on high school and memories from that time to be able to turn your dreams into reality. Your only friends were also in the industry but it made things both easier and harder.

"What about you? What did you mean by this being your last chance?" Seojun asked like a loaded gun but after everything he had just told you, you knew you could trust him with this and being in the industry for a while now, he must have understood, too.

You told him about the rising expectations, about your image and your company's ultimatum. It actually felt nice to talk about with someone other than your manager. Especially since Seojun seemed to understand exactly why you felt conflicted over the matter. You have given your youth to this dream of yours, so giving up on it would have felt like betraying yourself and everyone who believed in you but you weren't sure you could give it another 10 years of your life no matter how much you liked music. You had decent CSATs result, maybe you could have applied for a university program. Seojun even offered to arrange a meeting between you and Suho who was studying to become a proper songwriter.

You talked for hours and ate the tteokbokki even though it had gotten cold long ago and you couldn't remember when was the last time you had felt so light. You felt giddy even with just the tiny bit of alcohol in your system by the time you knew it was time for you to go.

Once you had felt relieved knowing that promoting your duet would be only one performance but recently, you started dreading the moment because that meant that you wouldn't have any more excuse to see Seojun. In the backstage, this time around you greeted Jugyeong like an old friend and teased to give Seojun a funny makeup before walking up to your  own assigned staff members. Your look was full of sparkles and glow fitting the silver colour of your dress, completing the ethereal vibe off the stage you were going to do and the beautiful song you had grown to love so much you held it close to your heart. The last rehearsals went smoothly and if you noticed Seojun's gaze lingering a bit too long, you didn't comment on it.

"Are you nervous?" he asked before the final recording and you knew it would have been unreasonable to deny it, so you replied with a small smile.

"A bit."

"Don't be. You're pretty and you'll do amazing," he reassured you and the way he said those words oh so easy. As if they were natural. As if he believed in you and maybe this was all the reassurance you needed because when you walked up onto the stage, not taking your eyes off his, it felt like it was just the two of you there. All the stress about not being good enough, about being judged for who you were and what you wanted to do with your life was subsided as you focused on the moment, just to sing this one song with one while trying to fight your heart's crazy beating.

You didn't really have the luxury to have crushes. You had always been concentrated on your work, you couldn't let yourself have distractions, especially since love scandals always affected girl worse than guy. At least that was what you told yourself for always putting up a wall around you and guarding your heart all too well. But during the past few weeks, between playful or flirty remarks, between smiles and ruffling hair, Seojun took apart your wall brick by brick even if he wasn't aware.

So it might have been only a few days since you had last seen him but in that rare moment of boredom, alone in your room, you realized that you missed him. Hell, you liked him and the feeling made me want to scream into your pillow as if you were a silly teenager. As if on cue, your phone buzzed with a new message and seeing the KakaoTalk ID made you shy.

duet partner, han seo jun

so...

i've been thinking

you

sounds dangerous but ok

duet partner, han seo jun

don't get sassy with me, miss

you

what have you been thinking about?

duet partner, han seo jun

that i don't want to miss my chance

there's this girl i like

i thought of asking her out

do you think she would say yes?

you

oh. well... why wouldn't she?

i mean, you are talented, handsome, funny and reliable

duet partner, han seo jun

and what about my job? it's busy and a bit crazy

don't you think it would be unfair of me to ask?

you

I think you should let her decide that

duet partner, han seo jun

okay

are you free on friday?

you

um, sure?

duet partner, han seo jun

cool, then go on a date with me?

[hmspogue]

Outer Banks season 2 Official Trailer shot-by-shot rundown

A comprehensive post where I scream about analyze the entire trailer frame by frame for clues, theories, and plot. Just my own opinions and general tin foil-hatting

These are screenshots from Netflix’s trailer for Outer Banks season 2. I do not claim or own any of these.

note: this post is tagged as a long post if you wish to avoid having to scroll until your thumbs break.

“My old man used to tell me, ‘it’s best to never say you’ve hit rock bottom’.”

(Putting all of these shots together since they’re scenes we already know but-) Holy shit, okay let’s just....start off like this I guess, damn.

“'Trust me’, he said...”

Kiara looking back and forth between the boys like this really just feeds the headcanon I have that her form of grief this season is going to be her trying to hold it together for their sakes (and eventually just snapping).

JJ just looks fucking furious someone give these kids a hug? I already know this scene is going to ruin me.

“You can always go...”

JJ back working at the hotel. He looks literally so angry again in this scene I could see him self destructing at work and losing his job? (Please do not be isolating yourself you beautiful son of a bitch even though I know you’re going to).

Pope in the Twinkie (costuming wise they all are in warmer looking clothes for some of the shots, so just confirming it’s a little bit into the school year when this all takes place).

“Lower”

Big John was real big into pep talks, I see. (seriously can you imagine Big John having this conversation with like 8 year old John B after he fucking dropped his ice cream cone or some shit I shouldn’t be laughing).

I’m just-

These poor kids, I wanna know how the police all the way down in the Bahama’s knew about them?

Their calves....

“RUN!”

Are going to be so fucking jacked by the end of this season I stg.

Fuck you.

“The gold from the Royal Merchant....it’s here.”

For a while, I had thought that maybe they didn’t even make it to the Bahama’s at the front of the season and ended there (because everyone had been filming in there). But I guess they’re going to be making two trips.

If I were a bird from this POV I’d shit right on that house no questions asked.

oooooh ho hokay. Just so we’re clear. Ward Cameron not only get away with murder and about two dozen other felonies, but-

“Half a billion.”

HE STILL FINDS THE GOLD IN THE CRAIN HOUSE AND GETS TO KEEP IT?

Not the polo with the snap back, I just know this man has a playlist called Sad Boi Hours that is just Juice WRLD’s top 5 songs on Spotify and he tells his friends they wouldn’t know the underground artists he listens to.

Sh, you have lost screaming privileges. Go inside and take a nap maybe.

“John B, we are fugitives in a foreign country.”

So, previously, I was talking about how I was confused how they would still be trying to find him is everyone thought he was dead, but here the wanted poster clearly says “presumed lost at sea”. I think that will be interesting to see how the Pogues all interpret that. 

Especially because they already had a memorial for John B and everything, I wonder if there will be any part of the Pogues holding out hope that they both could still be out there OUCH.

I’m going to circle back to this, but it looks like John B and Sarah are going to get separated for a little while in this man hunt, I could see my idiot himbo son trying to sacrifice himself so Sarah can get away but in reality just....stranding her.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?”

Oh, sweetie....

“Well, Sarah Cameron, I do stupid things all the time without realizing it.”

The volume of his self awareness is astronomical. sir, that is your whole character summed up in your own words.

GOD, IT’S ME AGAIN. PLEASE LET THEM LEAN INTO COMPLETE HIMBO JOHN B THIS SEASON I’LL DO ANYTHING-

nyyooooOOOOOOOOOOOOM-

“Hold on!”

The complete abject terror I would feel having John Booker Routledge driving get-away and then saying the words “Hold on” while reaching fro the gear shift? The english language fails me. 

Sarah, bestie, I’m so sorry.

I just wanna know-

what the plan or objective was in this situation. What was the reason for being this dramatic.

Rest in piss, bozo <3

“Ward’s still out there...”

Okay, same conversation they were having as before. I wonder what makes them decide they need to get back to the OBX for this tho.

“I can clear my name. This can all be over in one shot.”

It looks like Topper watching this but way more concerningly, correct me if I’m wrong but this 100% looks like....John B gets caught. And the DEATH PENALTY?! He did have a mug shot for the fliers in s1 and the one above but he was never brought in? Plus he just looks super dirty and dishevled in this one so I-

Jail break anyone?

I also still want to know if they’re going to go with a Topper redemption arc this season. like, does he know more than he should just from being around Rafe and his big fat mouth? Is he going to help out the Pogues even if it’s just for Sarah?

This shot just suddenly made me really sad. The thought of this all started because Big John left one last thing for his son to find, his literal life’s work. And when it all started, it was just a fun adventure John B and his best friends were going on together and having fun with. Then it all got dragged to absolute shit and turned into what it did, including the remaining 3 Pogues thinking that this treasure hunt took their two best friends away from them. And it’s nothing like Big John intended it to be.

Why my eyes wet?

Now we’re edging into what I was talking about earlier with John B and Sarah getting separated.

“If you think there is anything I wouldn’t do...”

Once again, John B is no where to be found. Also, just in case y’all didn’t already know or forgot Ward is an actual psychopath.

I believe this one of the new character, played by Jontavious Johnson (Stubbs). Based on the voice over it lowkey sounds like they’re implying Ward maybe hired Stubbs and Cleo to find and bring Sarah back. My theory would be I bet they do go to retrieve her, but she somehow convinces them that it would be more beneficial for them in the end to be on the Pogue’s side instead.

Miss Girl you gotta be keeping your head on a SWIVEL. Especially when you’re a FUGITIVE of the LAW-

“...you haven’t been paying attention.”

My guy, who are you clarifying this for?

It’s what you deserve for monologuing.

in all seriousness, the idea of them coming to face to face with Ward in Nassau after thinking they finally escaped him is genuinely terrifying.

“SARAH!”

It kind of looks like they’re either hiding their faces or covering their noses? I don’t know maybe it was from some tactic to get away from Ward.

What did I literally jsut say about yelling privileges, you unhinged mother fucker?

“I’m calling the shots now. I’m driving.”

The following progression of scenes made me actually snort-

“I can’t drive stick.”

PLEASE THE FINGER GUNS LAUNCHED ME INTO ORBIT I LOVE THEM, YOUR HONOR.

Alright, so now it looks like we’re in Charleston. This is the same scene with Heyward’s truck that got leaked from BTS (read: JJ and Kie shoulder touch).

One of the main things that stuck out to me in the following scenes which, you will see, is it lowkey looks like Pope is kind of heading up this part of the operation, or even going in alone? The following clips are just very Pope focused. 

I don’t know what it means, it’s just an observation.

“John B was not the only one that Ward double-crossed.”

LIMBRY-

Bro, we have been hearing about this woman for literal months and I just have....so many questions? 

Who the hell is she? How is she connected to Ward? Why is she in South Carolina instead of the OBX? How do the Pogues even learn about her and how to track her down? How is she meant to “help” them? GAH I JUST WANNA KNOOOW. I already know I don’t trust her though and no I will not be offering up supporting evidence.

Sir, that is my son please unhand him.

“I think you know what I want.”

.......no? But feel....free to explain yourself?

The print on the paper is the same one that’s on the ceiling tiles in the following scene. Obviously, with a key on it that most likely goes to the place a few shots from now.

Hell yeah, son, let’s get SLEUTHING.

“The treasure belongs to the Pogues.”

DAMN STRAIGHT.

Bestie’s I’m not going to lie, I stared at this frame for a solid 10 minuets and I have no idea what it says on there I’m sorry. Someone in the comments is welcome to enlighten us.

“We gotta find it first.”

I can’t tell if that’s just dirt or if he hurt his head? But he look GOOD right now for one thing. For another, same outfit as the one in the Twinkie from the beginning of the trailer.

Look at her. LooK AT HER! LOOK! AT! HER! I MISSED HER SO MUCH even in that damn smiley face top that continues to haunt my waking hours she is in it so much and it stresses me out for literally no good reason I’m sorry-

I could literally cry right now and I think that speaks volumes to how little we actually see him genuinely happy. Have I mentioned how much I love that red hat?

Also, probably not that important, but this is not from the same scene as the shots of Pope and Kiara were. This is from the next one-

“Woogity-woogity?”

“Give me some woogity, baby!”

Yeah, this pushed me over the fucking edge, the way that they’re actually happy and laughing? The fact that they kept woogity-woogity and made it A Thing? Yes.

I am, however, going to be intentionally ignoring what appears to be the very intentional stagingof having such an obvious space between where Kiara and Pope are sitting adn where JJ sits, even including the level they’re sitting on because I don’t have the emotional capacity to face those implications right now. Thank you for your time.

Yes yeeeeEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!

GIVE ME ALL OF THE SCENES OF THEM ACTUALLY GETTING TO BE TEENAGERS AND JUST BREATHE AND LAUGH AND HAVE A GOOD TIME AND NOT BE RUNNING FOR THEIR FUCKING LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!

before Rafe comes in and literally starts shooting because they can’t breathe for more than 7 seconds but we’ll....get to that.

They refer to Sarah as a Pogue this season or I burn Netflix to the ground. Your move, Jonas.

50 bucks says John B is driving the Twinkie again for the first time since being back.

I deadass think the Pogues JUST got Sarah and John B back and they’re just having the time of their life. Kie was in her smiley face outfit when Pope was in this one a few clips ago, and I still hold to the belief that that one still they released of JJ and Kie hopping over a fence is the Pogue reunion so-

Ward? I have no idea what he’s looking at behind the wall paper and I’ll be so honest I don’t care my eyes are only seeing Pogue content right now.

“This is a map of the whole island.”

This fit, when will John B learn how to operate buttons, stay tuned for season 5. Also my previous theory of this being their reunion outfits and stuff because Pope is in the back in the same jacket as before.

The plot thickens and so has JJ’s hair, Rudy drop the shampoo brand.

Please, dear God, tell me they’re back in the sex church. For @jiaaraa sake.

Kiara, your Madison is showing.

Okay, I really did try but all I can make out is Something to the tomb begin something something.

You’re welcome.

I am no expert but I do not believe boats operate on land.

John B looks like he is in the same outfit here that is in his mug shot we saw on the TV screen so I have a sneaking suspicion this is where he gets caught. 

“John B is back-”

Once again with the damn sexual tension that’s always between Barry and Rafe in every scene they do are we about to kiss right now?

“-it’s him or me.”

First of all, no.

Second of all, I’m just....so very confused about this time line this season. It kind of looks like Ward and Rafe follow and find Sarah and John B in Nassau (unless those scenes by the truck were actually back in the OBX). So did they....go to Nassau, then just come right back when they did? I’m just confused.

Put that thing back where it came from or so help me.

Literally when will you stop at this point I am begging you. 

This looks like the same scene the Pogues were, ya know, literally just having a good time at so fuck me, I guess.

Yeah, no, it’s going to be a no from me, I’m just going to pretend like I’m not seeing this and moving on.

I have simply no idea what is going on here or who that is on the bike but maybe JJ? Maybe Luke even? I think that’s JJ’s bike. 

The sewer scene. The SEWER SCENE-

For months sicne that tiktok leaked this damn scene has been genuinely all I could think about. So (obviously) it seems like they’re sending Kie down into the sewer to go do seomthing and things go horribly, horribly wrong. 

If you haven’t seen the tiktok, essentially all it was was JJ and Pope screaming and trying to lift up the man hole cover while Kie is begging for them to hurry from inside. I’m cheating a little bit as this isn’t a shot from the trailer but this picture was posted and it’s from the same scene.

I’ll just....leave this here. Back to the trailer shots.

Nice. Also, same shirt as mugshot.

Hey, um, what? 

Kiara’s car, she’s driving, I can’t tell who’s in the back seat or the front.

Holy God what is going on and how can I as an audience member put a stop to it?

So, same scene as we will see and was in the teaser but, for some reason, they’re all jumping off of a giant ass boat into the little life raft where it looks like JJ gets hurt later but don’t you worry we’re getting to that.

JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE THEY BOTH LOOK SO DAMN GOOD AND THEIR LITTLE SMILES SPARE ME-

Cleo 🥵

I’m so excited to see her arc and what it brings this season you guys have no idea.

Please for the love of God be about to get Ward Cameron’s ass like he deserves literally punt him into jail right from Tanny Hill.

Sarah at My Druther’s with what looks like a bloody bandage on her side? Same outfit she’s wearing when they’re running from the police on the beach and she has the bandage there too so. Interesting. 

Topper hugging who I’m pretty sure is Sarah, being a general douche because he’s clearly looking at John B like 😏 

Clips like these serve to remind me just how many of my worldly posessions I would gladly give up to be able to punch Topper Thorton in the throat one time. 

I think this is Cleo jumping off the boat with Pope after John B and Sarah. 

Absolutely busting a lung at Pope’s form in this one.

John B and Sarah waiting in the life raft, still Cleo and Pope coming after them. The obvious next question is where are JJ and Kiara. The scene I’m sure you all have been waiting for is coming up and clearly takes place in the life raft as well.

So, I really think JJ and Kie get left for last, something horrible happens as they’re trying to jump (my head instantly goes to JJ maybe like pushing Kie out of the way and getting hit on the head instead or even just some accident). 

And, oh my GOD a scene of him falling off the boat after it happens and Kiara diving in after him immediately, having to desperatly try to stop him from sinkingand get to the life raft holy shit-

Girl CATCH HIM?????

Because why wouldn’t this be Rafe’s fault. Part of me wonders if this isn’t related to JJ being hurt.

I am going to try and unpack this as calmly as possible because behind my computer screen I am vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass but respectfully.

WHAT IN THE FUCK IS TIAUEWFHLAILA

Okay, so scene wise, JJ’s hit his head somehow (probably while he was jumping with Kiara) it looks like and now they’re back on the raft. 

In my opinion, this is either:

A) JJ is in really, really bad condition after getting hurt in the jump and they’re not sure he’s going to make it. So this is a “Please stay with me, stay awake, please don’t die” hug OR

B) They very narrowly just avoided a deadly situation (my first thought is JJ hits his head while jumping, passes out in the water, maybe almost drowns but Kie and the others get him onto the life raft in time) and this is more of a “Oh my God, you’re okay, you’re safe now, we’re okay” hug. 

I honestly lean more to the second one based on the little bit of Sarah’s face we saw in the background. To me, it almost looked like she was smiling thru tears, which, fits way more with the second option than the first. 

Anyways. Moving on before I burst a lung again.

(also, before anyone comes at me, no, I’m not happy JJ is hurt, obviously.  

(Once again, arrest outfits). You can still see the bandage but it looks like Sarah’s limping now too so...good Lord give the girl a break maybe?

Everything in this trailer just went to shit so fast I think I have whip lash, can we go back to the Pogues hanging out and being happy now pkease I liked those scenes.

“I get it. You guys are scared.”

“No.”

She’s cute but, uh, hello sewer scene outfits. Seems like them planning to do whatever the hell they were going to do in the sewers but the boys are starting to get cold feet as maybe they should but hind sight is 20/20 I suppose.

“It’s kind of cute.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You should’ve just led with that.”

I will never be able to express how much I adore Pogue banter and general dumbassery and I have a feeling this season will not be lacking in either department

I high key don’t think these two are actually going to be there for this scene to go down but I’ll let it slide this time because-

They do be kinda cute.

It both feels like I’ve been waiting for this damn show for 3 years and also like I just watched season 1 last month explain that to me. 

Either way holy shit. I missed this dumb show and these dumb kids so much it physcially hurts and WE GET THEM BACK IN T-MINUS 16 DAYS.

Also. Where The Hell Is Wheezie Cameron And When Will She Have The Rights She Deserves.

[echo-of-sounds]

it’s my choice

-Present Mix x reader-

your dream upsets you more than you want to admit and he can clearly tell something’s wrong

He felt up her sides, absolutely flawless skin, caressing her perfect curves. Her breasts conformed to his pinching and massaging fingers. Praise after praise dripped from his mouth. His eyes consumed her. Moans deepened to groans as she lifted, slowing lowering onto him.

Heart splintering, your body jerked awake. The dream haunted you for yet another night. But it harassed your mind throughout the day, leaving you touchy and twitchy. The plague sapped any confidence.

Carefully pushing the blankets aside, you stood. Hizashi groaned from his side of the bed, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Go back to sleep, honey.”

You hurried through your morning routine and left early before he even got up for a shower.

---- Scrolling through the news showed pictures upon pictures of Heroes. They were all strong in a way you could never be. Pride held their shoulders high. Bravery cloaked their smiles. Confidence built their bodies, burst from their mouths, and dominated their competition. Those were all things you could only reach in your imagination.

You clicked out of the page and rubbed your eyes. It was beyond ridiculous. The dream was exactly that- a dream. It shouldn’t be chasing and hounding you like this. But the same question kept coming back: why was Hizashi with you?

A receptionist. You worked as a fucking hospital receptionist. No big fights. No drama or interviews or posters. The last time you really looked in a mirror, all you saw were pores, the wrong hair, and the exact opposite of the ideal body. You were just the wrong person for him.

It made you feel like a hormonal teenager, hopelessly, helplessly, stranded apart from what the focus of your affection wanted. Self-doubts should have departed once you graduated high-school. But they clung, exhausting, sucking, spoiling the euphoria of your relationship. You only wanted to be happy. And they wouldn’t let you.

A coworker called your name, snapping you from the lamenting and back into work.

---- The bedroom door opened. Footsteps approached. Arms circled your waist, accompanied by coconut shampoo. Hizashi chimed, “That smells great.”

“It’s just soup.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s still great. When’s it gonna be ready?”

“Ten minutes.” You set the spoon down. Kisses lined your neck. You shirked from the embrace, pushing his chest a little too roughly for your liking. But you still told him, “Not now, Hizashi.”

“Okay.” He gave you space by stepping back. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’ve said that for the last three days. Call it a hunch or something but I’m starting to think it isn’t true.”

“I’m fine.” You eased your voice, hoping it didn’t sound like the anger was directed towards him.

No response came, so you focused on cutting the carrots. A few chops later, a quiet mutter barely reached your ears, “Am I not good enough for you anymore?”

“What?” You dropped the knife and spun. The shine of his eyes dulled. No wit nor cheer remained. It hurt to see: mental uncertainness fumed to physical aches. It wavered your throat as you asked, “Why would you ever think that?”

His arms lamely flopped. “I don’t know what to think. You barely touched me over the weekend. No kisses, no hugs or hand holds. You shrug me off. You aren’t talking to me. If it’s not that, what is it then?”

He would never be anything less than perfect. Music, laughter, joy, and passion were all magnificent. It brought life into your life. He was worth every day, every hug, every celebration, everything. You couldn’t dream of vocalizing his importance in any clear way.

It was you who would never match. It just wasn’t possible. And that wasn’t the insecurities talking or the false truths anxiety told you to believe. It was a fact. Your body, abilities, and strength just could not hold up to his or anyone else’s. The number of worthier people in the world was immeasurable. You just weren’t good enough.

The doubts weighed your shoulders. Hands gently held them. “Baby, please talk to me. I hate seeing you like this.”

You shook your head.

“I miss you.”

You crossed your arms, shrugging, “It’s nothing. It’s dumb. I’m sorry, I’ll just forget about it.”

“Don’t. It’s not dumb if it’s making you feel this bad.” His hands smoothed along your upper arms. Lips brushed your forehead, repeating, whispering, “Talk to me-”

“It’s really dumb.”

“-I’m right here for you.” He kissed your temple before drawing you to him, safely securing your body against his. His chest, thin but strong, vibrated with deep breaths, enhanced by his quirk.

They were breaths that didn’t care about your moods drops; A chest that rebounded from your uncomfortable shoving; Arms that ensured you were stable and desired; Kisses that cherished your skin, your imperfections, your stiff and withdrawn lips.

You didn’t deserve him. Yet your name was so sweet whenever it sprung from his mouth- more so when he lulled it in your ear. “What’s going through your head? Talk to me, baby.”

The melodic pet name caved your hold. You mumbled into his shirt, “I had a dream…”

“About?” he hummed, stroking your back.

“You cheating on me.”

“I would never do that.”

“I know. I trust you… but I keep thinking about how… plain I am. I want to think it's just doubts and insecurities talking but I can’t get them to go away, Hizashi. I love you but I also feel like you deserve someone… better than me.”

He pulled back, cupping your face. Water wet his eyes as he sighed, “I love you so much. You know that right?”

You nodded.

“There are thousands of people in this world and I’m not with them because I don’t want to be. I want to be with you.” He kissed your forehead. “You’re my baby and everything I want.” He kissed your nose. "You're perfect for me.” He kissed your lips. “And you’re far from plain. Just last month you tried to convince me to go skydiving.”

You dryly laughed, “No one wants to go with me.”

“Before that, you dragged me to the zoo so you could spend two hours gawking at the tigers.”

“They’re pretty.”

“So aren’t you,” he assured, kissing you again. “You’re stunning. I mean it when I say I want to be with you. You don’t get to decide you’re not enough for me. It’s my choice and I love you. Besides, you’re one of the few who’s willing to deal with me all the time.”

You wiped your eyes with a smile. “I am.”

"You are," he laughed. “Please don’t hide from me. I’m here to fight that small, little voice in the back of your head.”

The squeeze that’s throttled your heart finally loosened. Confidence seeped back into the empty spaces. It was warm and sweet and perfect. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for loving you.” He lightly tugged the bottom of your shirt, grinning wide. “Can I show you just how much I love you?”

“The soup’s almost done,” you denied his offer. His bottom lip stuck out so you promised, “After you can.”

“Good.” He smooched your cheek loudly.

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket, Se03, ep10 (part 1)

“ What to do? & how to do it? the answer & the method are so simple, so simple but difficult as hell. it was hard for me to get them, & that’s exactly why I treasure them/ makes them valuable”. kyo~ This is my favorite quote in all anime.

How many times a domestic abuse victim was told just leave this abusive partner? report them? easy. just make a call. Report your abusive parents? tell someone. easy. Just speak up. It is true. It is easy but difficult as hell. To believe it is your right to fight. No, to believe you deserve to fight. to Live. This abuse is not a punishment you must endure. Hope is not dead. How simple yet so difficult to do that. ugh! my heart!

- Seeing Death vs Facing Death: ( The abuser who was stopped):

Abuse is a form of slow death. An actual intentional murder of an innocent soul. Abusers suck the life out of their victims & kyo’s biological dad is the poster monster for that. His appearance:

thin deathly demeanor, lack of nourishment, excessive drinking, lack of desire get out of the abyss, wide eyes, tiny pupils, manic laughter. shaky body movement. pathetic outlook at things.

heavy breathing, lack of logic & distorted facts, blurry speech, bizarre mentality, toxic behavior, tendency to hurt, injure, both physically & verbally.

inability to grasp reality, desire for inflecting pain on others, finding joy in that as it justifies his entire toxic mentality.

Fear of being hurt like he hurt others & being paranoid since he KNOWS he should receive punishment.

Kyo stood watching this man spit, rage, shake, scream. The man from his past, the authoritative figure in his early tender years, the person who must always be right: a parent. Facing his dad, Kyo’s entire gradual change was fantastic:

Kyo went from feeling utter fear from this man, hatred towards him, grief at the loss of a father & a mother, to force himself to stand his ground & not leave” easy but difficult as hell“ , to talk ” easy but difficult as hell“ , to announce that isnt gonna die ” easy but difficult as hell“ to say I’m loved & I want to to be with someone ” easy but difficult as hell”

to then realize the source of his mom’s misery isnt him after all, but this jerk! & not crumble at this realization ” easy but difficult as hell“ to grief over his mom’s tragic life & still announce again that he’s anit throwing his life away ” easy but difficult as hell“ to still look at his dad with pity rather than immense hate & anger ” easy but difficult as hell“ to remove his hand & leave him behind in the past while he moves forward ” easy but difficult as hell“ to say “ i’ll come visit again, cuz I anit afraid of you anymore, I’m not running, but I’ll try to extend a hand if you wanna do the same one day. It is your choice to be the abuser who must be stopped or the one who is atoned! you can choose, dad! We heard his choice as kyo was leaving, didn’t we? locking himself in an eternal cage that he made for himself. After all, he is the monster in his own story by his own choice.

-Seeing death (1): Kyo watching his mom’s suicide is a traumatic experience especially considering she chose such a graphic way to exist this world. Kyo once said to tohru “ mom went flying”, he now said“ mom threw her life away” very graphic ways to explain her death both literally & figuratively. This alone coupled with his father accusing him, resulted in a 4 year old screaming” I’mma yuki & kill myself, this would make you happy, dad”. This explains kyo’s 2 meetings with yuki as kids“ I hate you” at the sohma estate, the 2nd meeting “ I hate you” at the street. Mimicking the toxic behavior of the dad. Why didn’t kyo mimic kazuma? cuz trauma doesn't work like that. Kids can live safely for time then one traumatic experience shatter their self-worth into an endless cycle of self-hurt, low self worth & anger issues or withdrawal. The writing that set kyo/yuki against each other is perfect.

-Seeing death (2): Kyo watching kyoko’s death hammers all the insecurities of child kyo deep down into teenage kyo. Kyoko too, went flying, blood everywhere. too much pain happening again, crashing hope & killing his fighting spirit over & over. Be with tohru? why? to kill her, too?

-Seeing death (3): Kyo watching tohru’s injured body. Yup. You caused this. not by pushing her or failing to catch her. No. but by hurting her with harsh words. by forcing her away from you.

-Facing death (1): Kyo facing his dad, the symbol of deadly-abuse. To stand & announce to live is huge. -Facing death (2): refuse death: being caged till death, -Facing death (3): To say, I wanna be loved & love someone, life is not just being outside, heck! kyo was outside for 17 years! life is abt being with those who give it meaning! -Facing death (4): To not demand others to die as a punishment. Walking away from his dad without igniting the cycle of revenge & hate. ahhhhhhhhhh~~~  Chef’s kiss!

-Seeing eye to eye: ( I don’t need to be you, but I appreciate you):

Kyo & yuki toxic relationship has been ongoing since their birth. The moment kyo’s dad was dismayed that he got the cat of all zodiac & the moment yuki’s mom was delighted she got the rat of all zodiacs. From that moment it became: look how lucky the rat parents? You shamed me? Look how pitiful that cat? eww! stay away from his filth. The explosive nature of kyo’s tragic fate tainted him with the blood of his mom & the daggers of his father’s hateful words, while the nature of yuki’s sheltered & locked fate tainted him with fear & isolation. They meet & both carry out the feelings of rejection & hate all while envying the other. The toxic nature of their relationship consist of fights & condensing words. Tohru connected both. Through her, they became civil. Even talking abt perverted shigure. Now that she is hurt, they are lost without her. Their lives are empty.

Yuki’s “ kyo has his own pain & reasons”  (to not see tohru) is my fave line! even better than all the epic lines after they confess their feelings. cuz this like happened before they connect. it shows that, I see his pain, I get he has his reasons. But whatever issues he have shouldn’t hurt tohru. this is when yuki interferes in kyo’s choices. For tohru. This is also when kyo really allows him to. For tohru. Had tohru nor be part of the fight, kyo wouldn’t even engage in it & yuki wouldn’t initiate it.

-“I wanted to be you!” : Kyo said it first. I loved this so much! Cuz kyo said I hate you first! it is so fulfilling that the truth is now out. From kyo first. Cuz really... that hate was all toxic inheritance from a toxic father & a toxic system.

- “Why do you have to say it firs!” Yuki was mad, cuz he was struggling with it for the longest time. to be kyo. He even mused on how kyo interacted with ppl in school, got himself his own mini kyo. lol. studied how kyo filled tohru’s world just by existing. yuki can't do that for tohru. he looked for someone whom he could do that for! yuki/machi scene at her house paralleled kyo/tohru scene at her room when she was sick (se01, e023) & when they eating the somen together (se02, e02), yuki/machi chalk scene paralleled kyo/tohru scene at the beach where he coaxed tohru to tell her mom’s story (se02, e07). Yuki really was having a hard time finding his true self & accepting it without needing to learn from kyo. It is hard to say “ i admired you” after being rejected by you! so kyo saying it first helped yuki say his after. Also, both boys were hella shocked they admire each other. Like both were deeply shocked! stupid boys! XD

Side Notes:

Kyo’s confrontation with his dad is furuba’s most powerful scene & most well-written one! From the fear of facing him, to talking to him with low voice, to physically stopping him, to the exposed last piece of locked memory abt the mother, to the freedom gained by walking forward! Heck, even how it was weaved psychologically to perfectly mimic children’s self-defense mechanisms & children copying their parents theme. The realistic depiction of abusers both in their most powerfully menacing moment & in their weakest cowardly moment. Top-tier writing! Hands down my fave furuba scene! Can’t ask for better! Can’t even imagine better! genius- writing Takaya-san!

The boys had a necessary fight & confrontation & the yuki’s entire speech was valid & perfect speech. However, as usual, I’m not a fan of how violence is depicted in furuba. I was actually “warned/ ordered” by an anon to not “ sh*t” on the boys fight scene. I don’t know why someone who’d read my reviews would think i’d have anything but love for both boys. I criticize the writing not the characters. Also, furuba fans have always been good to me, I state my opinion frankly & they talk to me! “ talk!”. You don’t have to throw virtual fists over different perspectives on fiction. Talking kindly does magic, also having different opinions is natural & normal for humans.

I love yuki so much, he’s one of my top faves in furuba & I get why the boys would quarrel & throw fists. I get the history between them, the current state of mind, their emotions & mentality & I get it’s fiction & drama that needs its “ OMG” moment. However, I cringe when I see violence used as a bonding moment in fiction in general. That’s just me. I wish the fight was done in a more artistic style without showing that scene where yuki corned kyo & punched him in full view of the screen. (again not hating on yuki nor the fact that they needed to fight). I’m jus saying I didn't need to see a one-sided beat up from a character I love to another one I love. That’s just me again~ feel free to enjoy this moment to its fullest. It’s fiction & I’m not judging anyone at all, nor hating anyone from real life or fiction <3<3<3.

Yuki’s last piece of character development is in my part 2 review! Along with machi. Also, yuki’s Japanese VA was awesome!!

Also, let yuki have deep various facial expressions!!!! ugh! In the fight scene they did yuki so dirty with his hair covering his eyes all the time! then followed by low quality shots of him breathing! Why?! The voice acting sold the entire excellent emotional rage more than the animation! Yuki can look pretty even when mad, heck! screw looking pretty! just give him deep facial expressions to mach his feelings! boy was hella mad like he never was his entire life! always forced to wear a mask or be diplomatic! now he’s screaming his lungs out, you hide his face??? really?? Sigh~ the anime always do this wit yuki, replace facial expressions with hair on eyes or having his eyes without light. I wanna see them expressive eyebrows so bad!!!

Another powerful VA performance was both kyo’s dad VAs! both the Japanese (with his excessive breathing) & the English VA (with his range). They sold the mad abusive character! they gave me chills!

Also, I sound like a broken record, but kyo’s both VAs did phenomenon in the dad’s scene & tohru’s scene. Honestly, I only watch the dub to hear Jerry! I learned his name & would watch the dub for him!

Akito, Arisa, Kureno in part 2 of my review as well.

Shigure/yuki returning home scene is call back to ep1. Ok, everybody loves a call back scene & the full circle thingy. but C’mon! you dont have to copy everything! the walk, the scenery, its purpose, dialogue & all! The anime really took advantage of kyo being missing. XD

Tohru’s dress/top color matches the color of kyo’s old hat (The hat). symbolic of him finding her? As if he did find her when they were children? cool. I love this detail. But i do NOT love this color on tohru at all !! lol. it is so dull on her. The dress style/ design mimics her same dress in se01, ep26 as she was talking to kazuma & kyo fought him. Their first intimate moment after nearly loosing the other. Heck! tohru was even hurt on her hand as well. but the color was a nice pastel yellow. It suited tohru. The hat’s bluish-greenish color matches tohru’s own pajama at home!!!! & kureno’s hospital pajama! T_T... why couldn't the hat be red!!!! a color that both represent kyo & yuki! both were compared to red before~ oh well~~ minor issue~

[artificialqueens]

Pulling Leaves Off Trees, Chapter 1: Been Through the Wringer a Couple Times (Multi) - Sportkuras

Summary:

c’est bon: damnnn

c’est bon: wait. jan isnt your apartment near shea’s

human girl: @jansport spill

Jan could feel her stomach drop as she looked at the message.

“Oh, goddamn it.”

—

Or: The girls try to survive college, and everything else that comes with almost being an adult.

A/N: my first fic here on artificialqueens! i noticed that arent many college au’s and group chat fics of the s12 cast so i let myself be self-indulgent for once!! its unbeta’d so apologies lmao but you can talk to me here and you can find the ao3 link here! comment if you’d like!

***

Jan started her morning like almost every college student in their third year would: to be woken up by their alarm after a night of heavy drinking. She woke up with a start and groaned as Chromatica II started blaring from her phone, blindly reaching for it on her nightstand and peering at the time.

Damn. One in the afternoon, huh?

“Thank god I don’t have class today.” The blonde muttered as she checked her notifications: 7 from Twitter, 3 from Insta, and 1 from their group chat. She sat up from her bed and scrolled through the chat, trying to quell her pounding headache.

Bon Voy

Members: jaidaessencehall, heidininacloset, jansport, jackiecox, gigigoode, crystalmethyd, britafilter, dahliasin, nickydoll, aidenzhane, and widowvondu

lebron essence ball: okay so

lebron essence ball: me and shea are at the library rn and she’s complaining to me abt how she couldnt sleep right

lebron essence ball: and chile….it was bc someone was getting RAILED last night lmaooo

lebron essence ball: she said, and i quote, “the bitch had such a good time even I’M jealous”

c’est bon: damnnn

c’est bon:wait. jan isnt your apartment near shea’s

human girl: @jansport spill

human girl: also

human girl: feels weird that we didn’t start this day with a good morning announcement from jan

c’est bon: the vibes were off 😞

Jan could feel her stomach drop as she looked at the message, “Oh, goddamn it.” She’s now acutely aware of their apartment door opening and Rock’s footsteps padding from outside her room, most likely just coming home from her class. She suddenly remembered exactly what happened last night; most especially memories of what happened between her and her roommate . Memories of them being drunk as hell, coming back to their apartment from god knows how many bars, going to Jan’s room giggling like teenagers on a sleepover and well. You know.

Jan checked her phone again.

lebron essence ball: jannette….would you happen to know who was the lucky gal? 👀

backpack backpack: good morning to you too gigi 🙄

human girl: *Afternoon, actually

human girl: Now spill! I know you know almost everyone on that floor.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. How in the hell was she gonna say that her and Rock got drunk and hooked up as casually as possible? She could lie, but Jaida, Brita and Widow could smell bullshit coming from a mile away, and she’s a horrible liar. They’d know she was bluffing.

Might as well get it over it. She let out a sigh as she typed out a message, hoping that it was only Jaida, Nicky and Gigi who were online.

backpack backpack: haha yeah so um

backpack backpack: that was me & rock actually

Even though no one could see her, Jan hid her face behind her hands, bracing for the worst. Several dings!  had come from her phone as soon as she sent the message. Of course it wasn’t only Jaida, Nicky and Gigi who were online.

cox destroyers: Oh my god.

Jan’s eyes widened when she saw Jackie reply, although she’s not quite sure why she was panicking about Jackie knowing about her hook up with Rock in the first place. All she knows is that she’s gonna have to face Jackie (and everyone else, for that matter,) later.

sin city: ohhh bitch—

c’est bon: you and ROCK???

dom top: !!!

dom top: idk who Rock is but get it sister

backpack backpack: Thank you! Thank you, Heidi. It’s like you’re the only one who’s not acting weird right now.

c’est bon: lmao heidi

c’est bon: she’s jans roommate

human girl: Janice Elizabeth Sport.

von du for two: not this shit again i swear to god

tap water: Jan.

tap water: You know that I love you

tap water: BUT WILL YOU PLEASE STOP SLEEPING WITH YOUR ROOMMATES

Jan rolled her eyes at the messages, wanting the ‘news’ to be over as soon as possible. “And they say I’m the dramatic one.” She huffed as she quickly typed on her phone again.

backpack backpack: okay can y’all chill 🙄

backpack backpack: we just got drunk and slept together, that’s all.

backpack backpack: tell shea im sorry though xxxx @jaidaessencehall

lebron essence ball: bitch you know it ain’t about having a drunk hookup with someone

lebron essence ball: its about the fact that you banged your roommate AGAIN

backpack backpack: oh COME ON

backpack backpack: this was just the second time!!

backpack backpack: and lemon’s with priyanka now!!!

von du for two: girl you & lemon were fucking almost every week i can’t with u

von du for two: going at it like rabbits while we were outside your apartment getting ready to watch glee :/

tap water: and, frankly, i don’t want to come up to your apartment to run lines with you if i have to hear y’all fooling around. my good, christian ears have heard enough.

She felt her face heat up in embarrassment.

backpack backpack: oh my god can you guys please shut up!!!!

backpack backpack: it’s not gonna happen again bc it was a one time thing

backpack backpack: i promise

human girl: [dwayne the rock johnson voice] are you sure about that?

backpack backpack: yes georgina goode i am 100% sure

Jan bit her lip as she looked up at the door to her room. Okay, she’s not 100% sure, but not because she regretted it or anything. As much as her brain was allowing her to remember, last night was good. Great, even. But between auditions, college, and working in the café, her love life (or lack thereof) is on pause for now. Besides, it’s not like anyone has been actively pursuing her, or vice versa.

But it wouldn’t hurt to ask Rock, right?

Sighing in defeat, Jan quickly got up from her bed with her phone still in her hand (as much as her hangover allowed her), left her room and knocked on her roommates door, hoping that she wasn’t busy. She heard a faint “come in!” from the other side and opened the door softly.

“Hey, roomie.” She joked.

Rock looked up from her drawing tablet and slipped off the headphones from her ears. “Glad to see you’re finally awake, and here I thought you were a morning person.” Rock’s room was a mess of color and paraphernalia; while Jan’s was strictly purple, pop culture, and musical theater, hers was an array of figurines and albums on the shelves, kpop & anime posters tacked on the wall behind her bed reaching up to the ceiling, and a somewhat decent gaming setup in the corner of her room. Crystal and Nicky would be proud.

Jan rolled her eyes, “Yeah, well, last night was something,” She slightly cleared her throat at the mention of last night. “Also, about last night…”

Rock raised her brow, “Go on?”

“It was a one time thing, right?” Jan furrowed her brows in question, “I mean, last night was amazing , as much my brain is allowing me to remember. And you’re hot, so, I’m not complaining. Really dig the anime e-girl vibe, and I’m sure anyone would tap that ass! I mean, I did, but I’m just—”

“—Not looking for anything right now?” Rock cut her off, saving Jan from turning into a hungover, rambling mess.

She let out a sigh of relief, sitting on her roommates bed and putting her phone down, “Yeah, doll. Just been really busy right now, y’know? 3rd year isn’t a joke.”

The pink-haired girl let out a snort, “Oh, I know the feeling. And don’t worry, I wasn’t looking for anything either, and while last night was fun,” She looked at her pointedly, and Jan was calm enough to actually smirk at the incident between the two, “I’d much rather have you as my friend than as my fuck buddy, because you are loud , girl!”

Jan shrieked at that, “Oh my god, shut up!” She threw a pillow at Rock’s head while the girl let out a cackle, “My friends were on my ass about that too, some friends they are.”

“Wait, you told your friends about that? Aren’t you friends with Nicky?”

Jan huffed, “Mama, more like I was forced to tell them. Jaida’s friend, Shea—whose apartment is next to ours, by the way—was complaining to her about how she couldn’t sleep last night because of, um, my tendency to be vocal.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Rotted bitch!” Jan threw another pillow at Rock, this time missing because the girl was doubled over in laughter, “I can’t believe you! The disrespect, really. I shouldn’t be taking this from you, I still have a shift to do at 3.”

“But you took it from me real good last night, so,” this time Rock shielded her face as Jan threw pillow after pillow at her, trying to speak through her laughter, “Okay, okay! I give, I give! I’m sorry, mom!”

“Bitch! I can be a top if I want to!” Jan exclaimed in mock offense. As their laughter subsided, the blonde suddenly had an idea, “Oh! What if I invite you over for dinner?”

Rock smirked, “One: we’re roommates. It’s not really inviting me to dinner if we eat in the same room. And two: I thought you said you weren’t looking for anything?”

“I mean dinner with my friends, gorg. All 11 of us eat together at least once a week, this time we’re gonna crash at Heidi, Jaida and Brita’s. Maybe you wanna come and meet them? I know you and Nicky know each other somehow, so it wouldn’t be too awkward, right?”

“Introducing me to the family already? Ain’t that a bit too early for you, Ms. Sport?”

“More like introducing you to a bunch of kindergartners,” Jan muttered as she checked her phone for any new notifications, “But yeah, I want them to know you as my roommate and friend , not as my roommate who I slept with.”

Bon Voy

dom top: okay so jans sex life aside

dom top: y’all are still coming over tonight?

sin city: yes girl!! college sucks ass sm i need to eat my feelings

c’est bon: wouldn’t miss it for the world mon ami xoxo

cox destroyer: I’m gonna be a little late! I just have to return and borrow some stuff in the library.

human girl: can we please order pizza hut <3

lebron essence hall: no <3

von du for two: we are going to order dominoes like civilized people

human girl: ugh fine, all of you have 0 taste

human girl: crys said yes btw she just has class right now

tap water: aiden said she’s gonna come too, she just can’t message the chat bc she’s still in her shift

Jan grinned at Brita’s message, finally getting the chance to steer the conversation away from her.

backpack backpack: So if she can’t message the chat because of her shift, why’s she messaging you, miss brittany filter?? 👀

Jan can feel Brita’s eye roll from miles away.

tap water: She speaks!

tap water: And don’t act like this conversation isn’t over, Miss Janice Sport. You have a lot of explaining to do.

“So, are ya gonna introduce me as your forbidden, but passionate lover? Whose romance was short-lived, yet wild, fiery and unforgettable?”

Now it was Jan’s turn to let out a cackle as she left Rock’s room, “More like my chaotic mess of a roommate who farted herself awake!”

This time it was Rock’s turn to gasp in offense, “That was one time and you fucking know it! And my answer is yes, by the way!”

Jan sent a message to the chat before grabbing her towel and putting her phone away to take a shower.

backpack backpack: oh btw i’m inviting rock to hang out with us!!! I promise she’s super fun and that we’re just roommates and see y’all soon please dont kill me or make it awkward with rock xxxx

tap water: are you

tap water: kidding me.

von du for two: oh for the love of GOD

***

[dalamjisung]

lee know + wow by danceracha <3

It had been years ago, but Minho is sure he’ll never forget the shock in your eyes when they met his in this same dance floor you two meet again. It was a simpler time, back then; when all he worried about was if there would be a free practice room for him to use after school; when all you cared about was graduating high school. And once you did, you never really looked back– you forgot all about the sneaking out to go to clubs, all about the quick glances and disguised giggles, and all about the kiss that forever changed your life. Okay, almost all about it– the occasional dream doesn’t count. But it didn’t matter now, that is all behind you. Or rather, right in front of you.

When you decided to visit your parents back in your hometown, the last thing you expected was ending up in that same club. Your sister just broke up with her boyfriend and she makes a point of telling you how heartbroken she is and how tragic her life’s become; then she tells you how the only way for her to be happy again is if you agree to go out with her.  And you stupidly do and it’s like bam! You are back at 16, with a fake ID, and Lee Minho staring at you from the other side of the room.

“Hey,” She practically shouts in your ear. “Isn’t that your ex?”

“We never dated!” You shout back, laughing in embarrassment. 

What you two had has always plagued your mind, and ever since before it started, you couldn’t figure out your own feelings, while making sense of his was very easy… simply because there were none. All Minho wanted was a warm body for the night, and him and his horny teenager hormones had a knack of looking for the easiest target in the room; and you, admittedly so, used to be the poster child for ‘young and naive.’ You feel for it once, but it’s been years, and you’ve learned better– through many mistakes and successes– and not even his wide eyes and incredulous smile could get to you now. The way he walks, though, with so much confidence and presence, does make your heart beat twice as fast, but you prefer to believe that it is only because you’ve been single and alone for a while and god, do you want some company.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Y/N,” The only reason you can hear him over the loud music is because Minho is so close to you that you can smell his shampoo. “Decided to grace us with you presence again, I see.”

“Your life was just too grim without my beautiful self in it,” You shrug, smirking. “So here I am for a few days.”

“Hm,” He squints, downing his drink and putting the cup in the counter. You are leaning on your elbows, eyes switching from him to where your sister is talking to a guy. “The Y/N I know would never say something like that. The Y/N I know wouldn’t say anything at all, actually.”

“The Y/N you know is also 16 and shouldn’t have ever been allowed in here,” You scoff, finally locking eyes with him. “It’s been years, Minho. Update your Y/N, will you?”

“Consider it done,” He leans forward, trapping you in between his eyes. “Does this Y/N likes dancing?”

“She does,” You nod, breath fanning his cheek as you let your lips brush his skin. “This Y/N loves dancing.”

This Y/N might love dancing, but apparently this Y/N also forgot that Minho has always been a dancer, and that now he is a professional dancer. It’s hard to keep up with him, and even harder to put your plan in actions– nothing seems to phase the man. In the end, it seems like you’re the only that is worked up and you just have to go. You have to leave before you make a mistake.

“Wait!”

You admit, leaving him by himself in the dance floor while walking away was probably not the best course of action, but staying for another second would be the end of you. Your thumbs work quick, texting your sister that you want to go home and she is as quick to tell you to leave since she’s found company for the night. 

“Y/N, wait!” Minho manages to catch up once you are already outside, waiting for a taxi. “What the fuck, where are you going?!”

“I’m going home,” You give him an unamused smile, ignoring the way your heart threaten to beat out of your chest. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?!” Minho snorts, brows raised. “Y/N, I thought we were having a great time! And then you simply walk away?”

“I just had to go.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Can I persuade you to stay?” He tries, anxiously looking at the taxi pulling up to the curb.

“Now why would you want to do that?” You chuckle, walking to the car and opening the passenger door.

“Because I want to update my Y/N!” He shouts, and when you laugh out loud, heat shown back and everything, he sighs, smiling at how stupid you two must look like. “I mean I want to get to know you. Again.”

“You never knew me back–“

“Ah, but we’re not talking about the past, right? Forgive, forget!” He cries out, holding the door open and ignoring the pleas of the driver. “Give me a chance. Please– that’s all I need!”

You let the silence settle before looking down at your feet, sighing in defeat.

“Fine,” You look up to see him closing his eyes and smiling in relief. “One shot, Lee. Don’t blow it." And you seal the deal with a kiss. The driver grumbles something under his breath and you know the meter is rolling, but you just don’t care. You’ve been dreaming about another one of these kisses for years and he did not disappoint, so much so that when you pull away all you can say is–

“Wow.”

----------------------------------------

I’m sorry this one was a bit on the longer side, but I hope you enjoy it anon!

[gris-nv]

Happy Pride Month!

These past days I’ve heard people telling their “coming out” stories and being the Pride Month I’ve decided to share mine, I don’t know if it will inspire anyone and I’m not sure someone cares lol, but still here it is:

I’m proudly originally from a country that’s somehow pretty conservative in many ways and there are a lot of taboos, that’s not particularly what makes me proud of course, but I love my culture and I love to share it and showing it to the world, but anyway one of those taboos of course is everything related to the LGBTQIA+ community, is not something that’s talked about a lot, is hidden, we grow knowing it’s there but is just something you hear about in secrecy.

Well as I was growing up I had always been a wild girl that liked to play sports and I didn’t like, and still don’t like, to wear dresses or skirts, I always liked to run around, climb trees, play soccer, etc so dresses and skirts never really offered the freedom of movement lol and I always could be found playing with the boys. Part of my family has a lot of machismo ideas and I heard a conversation once in which my mom was telling my sister that one of my aunts, on my dad’s side, told her to “keep an eye on me” because a girl that didn’t like to wear dresses wasn’t “normal”, I kinda knew where the idea was going but I was little and just thought “why can’t I play freely? What’s wrong with not being “feminine” enough? Enough for who? 🤨 anyway that didn’t keep me from being wild and still play sports.

Then teenage years came and I used to watch “Xena: Warrior Princess” and I was a FAN you guys, huge fan lol I just loved the idea of this strong and powerful female warrior kicking butts, plus I think it was the first time I saw a bisexual icon. Around that time while my female friends and cousins were crazy about the Backstreet Boys and Leonardo DiCaprio and had posters of them on their walls I had the Spice Girls and Britney Spears (don’t laugh). Then came the high school and college years and a lot of people assumed things about me and saw me with that “I know you better than you know yourself” look in their eyes, but I met a guy and we had a relationship, we’re no longer together but we’re still very good friends and guys I was so happy while we were together, but still some people assumed things just because I don’t conform with the society’s idea of how a feminine woman should dress or behave.

Fast forward to some years ago I met a friend, a female friend, and as I was getting to know her more and more I began to notice something, I was feeling something that I hadn’t felt before for a woman, I couldn’t stop thinking about her, I couldn’t stop talking about her with other friends, and once I was with one of my friends, he’s gay (no that it matters but for this story is important) I was talking to him and I couldn’t stop mentioning my female friend and at some point he stared at me and told me “wow! Someone’s crushing hard!” And I was like “Of course not!….wait…wait…OMG yes! I have a crush on her!” 😐 and he must have realized something, he hugged me and told me “Aw Gris, you just realized don’t you? It’s ok, it will be ok, I know how it feels it’s going to be ok” and yes, that was the moment it downed on me guys, that was the moment I came out to myself and the moment the journey of accepting myself began, accepting what I was feeling. Then I came out to my sis, my best friend and she didn’t make a big deal of it, as it should be, she was like “ok cool” 👍🏼. Then I came out to my work friends and they were like “oh we knew, but so what?” And with those reactions I felt encouraged guys because I was being accepted.

Then it came the hardest part, coming out to my family, first I told my sister, and since there’s no way of saying it smoothly I just told her that I feel attraction for both men and women, so I’m bisexual and she just hugged me and told me “you’re my baby sister, I love you no matter what”.

The last year during Pride Month I came out by accident to my mom lol, and she had the best reaction, moms know after all and she told me that she loves me and the hardest part for her was thinking about all the time that I was hiding my true self and that I had to go through that alone and I shouldn’t have because she’s my mom and she’s always there for me 🥺. And I know that this just makes me part of the lucky ones that has a supportive family and I know there are many others that aren’t that lucky and that’s why I support the community so fiercely no one should hide who we love, after being out and being truly myself I’m happier, I lost a weight off my shoulders and I lost weight literally too. I’ve been learning a lot also and I know that bisexuality is not binary, meaning we can feel attraction to someone regardless of their gender and that’s amazing because what’s important is the person 😉

What happened with the crush? Absolutely nothing lol I fell in love hard, but being part of the community and falling in love with a straight woman leads nowhere but a broken heart, at least for some time but eventually I fell out of love. At least I discovered and accepted that part of me and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. We don’t choose who we fall in love with, it just happens, and even if it only leads to a broken heart at least we know we have the capacity to love.

So some lessons here: Don’t make assumptions about anyone. NEVER out someone unless they’re fine with that, it’s a whole process and it mustn’t be rushed. Someday “coming out” won’t be a thing anymore. Love is love. Representation matters.

[masked-disciple]

Hey so uh, referencing the post you reblogged about dni things, and I mean this as genuinely as possible! But what do you think proship means? I just ask because ah...in my experience it usually means people who ship minors with adults ; ;

You’re close but not quite on the mark. It means I do not give a single flying fuck what someone ships, so long as things are tagged and they’re not being disrespectful to others around them.

Hell, I don’t care if someone ships real people, so long as it’s tagged and they’re not stupid enough to bring it into any interaction with those people they may have. Not so many folks are all right with RPF, but that was one of my starts in ship fandom - shoutout to Sekihan and Piko for encouraging the hell out of it, though, they knew their audience - and if you’re not showing it to the people you’re shipping and you’re tagging it so people know what they’re clicking on, I don’t care.

Here’s the thing. Fiction does affect reality, but not in the way antis want you to think it does. Take 50 Shades of Grey, for example. There was a huge outcry against it when it came out, because it portrayed straight up sexual and emotional abuse as BDSM, and the BDSM community (at least in hindsight, I was 11 when the movie came out and if I’d known what their actual reaction had been in real time something would have been deeply wrong) was rightly pissed off about it.

Here’s the reason why 50 Shades’ misinformation pissed them off, and me writing a 10k underage incest fic (mind the tags) probably shouldn’t piss anyone off. 50 Shades was mainstream and portrayed as totally healthy and fine. That isn’t really an issue. What is the issue is that it was aimed towards young teenagers. I was maybe a year too young for it to be marketed to me, and this was 2011 when my entire concern was stealing every One Direction poster out of spite and drawing bikinis in permanent marker on their stupid bodies because all my classmates got official merch of their faves and I couldn’t get Vocaloid merch because shipping rates say no.

Ahem. That was the problem, right there. Because fandom does not simply ask but demands that you tag your shit. If you run a NSFW blog, it is not required by law per se but required by fandom culture to put an 18+ warning on it somehow immediately available.

50 Shades was marketed to teenagers, and that’s a damn problem. When I write my 7k DDLG father-daughter incest fic (mind the tags and that is a different fic than the first one), I am not writing it for a teenage audience. When you click on either of those fics, AO3 straight up says this:

You know what this is? This is them saying “This is explicit material. If you agree and see it and have issues, then that’s on you, because we asked you if you were cool with it. If you lied to us, we can’t do fuckall about it.”

Teenagers are teenagers. Teens will sneak onto porn sites and take kink quizzes with their friends and also probably lose their virginity before they’re 17. Most of my classmates had lost it by 16. I’d been writing sexually explicit fic since I was 12, not that I was any good at it.

To imply teenagers are simply baby children and then mature at 18 into fully-functional adults is actually really stupid, especially considering how many of them rightfully get really pissed off if you treat them like children. So why the hell is it that teenage antis get really upset because you wrote porn?

It’s because you wrote porn of a ship they don’t like, and making you out to be a horrible child abuser makes them sound legitimate because they don’t want to recognize that being disgusted by something doesn’t mean that the thing that disgusts them doesn’t deserve to exist.

I write sexually explicit material of teens largely to deal with my teenage self never getting to actually understand her own desires and capabilities, because she missed out due to dysphoria and alterhumanity she didn’t fully understand. You know how people are like “If you’re 23 and need that comfort blanket then just get the comfort blanket to please your inner child, psychology says reparenting yourself like that is actually good?” What do you think I’m doing? That’s pretty well it.

I don’t care if people write fucked up things. People write fucked up things for all sorts of reasons, and it is not my place to ask them if they’re traumatized and thus ‘justified’ in doing it. Either you force everyone to lay out their trauma before you let them write things that could potentially disgust a teenager who is not allowed to be there in the first place, or you just live and let people live.

And if you really want people to lay out their trauma and then get grilled before you let them deal with it in ways that you personally don’t like, wow, that is serious ableism right there. You know all those “support trauma victims even when it’s not pretty!!!!1!!!” posts? Are fucking meaningless if you don’t actually support them. And supporting them means not asking them about things that broke them to satisfy some moral high that doesn’t need to exist.

I don’t care if people ship minors with adults. I don’t. Tag your shit. Tag it so people know what they’re walking into. I have issues when people post porn when I didn’t ask to see it. But saying ‘proceed’ on that AO3 warning is asking to see it. Opening up an 18+ blog is asking to see it. Going into the tags without an adblocker is asking to see it.

If you really think people can’t write what they want without appealing to you, personally, about it, then you need to work on your own disgust and how you deal with it, because demanding they stop because it upsets you - when you were never involved, and especially when you’re not supposed to be there - is rude, disrespectful, and not something I tolerate.

I’m not saying this to be mean. I’m really not. And most of this is general-you, not you-anon-in-particular, because I have no idea who you are. I ought to redo my pinned post anyway because I have been getting a lot of folks who say proship dni following me despite the fact I am pretty proship and I should make that more obvious so they know what they’re getting into - again, this is me tagging my shit - and I’ll do that probably tomorrow, but still.

If nobody is actually getting hurt to make the thing, which fanfiction and fanart does not unless you are really fucked up and in which case you know you’re fucking doing it, then I don’t care. Thoughtcrimes aren’t real crimes, and I will never treat them that way.

So I know exactly what proship means, and I’m proship. My AO3 has explicit fics on it that would make antis froth at the mouth, and you don’t need to go looking for them, I linked them for anyone who wants to read it. I’ve never hidden it, and I wouldn’t. It’s tagged. You know what you’re going in for. If you agree to see it, then you were warned, and there’s nothing more we can do.

Simply as that.

[nadiawrites14]

voice of gen z

word count: 2784

for english class. tw for school shooting and police brutality mention

AN INTRODUCTION.

“GEN Z is too afraid to ask a waiter for extra ketchup but will bodyslam a cop.”

Dated June 5th, on Twitter. Many of us sit holed up in our rooms, laptops resting in our crossed legs as we scroll through social media, or the blue light of a phone screen on our face as the world around us is sleeping. Many of us are also the ones organizing, the ones leading, the ones fighting. News spreads that in Dallas, Providence, and in many more cities, teenagers were the ones organizing, the ones fighting. Teenagers were the ones turning viral memes into protest signs, organizing protests and sharing methods of resistance through apps like TikTok and Instagram. It echoes the methods of the Hong Kong protestors, using technology to battle their government head-on. 

Teenagers who dance along to songs such as Megan Thee Stallion’s “Savage”, as well as teens who live in the world of ‘deep-fried’ memes, whose bizarre absurdity reach ungodly levels of abstractism, are the ones leading in this young revolution. Teenagers are the ones who chant ‘no justice, no peace’ in filled city streets; teenagers are the ones working to create graphics and share information, a new form of armchair activism. K-pop fans fill conservative hashtags with videos of their favorite performers, burying rhetoric and dismissal of the protests with dances and songs. In hours, #BlackLivesMatter trends. It’s hard to believe that these new pioneers and leaders in activism and technology are children who are scared to give class presentations, share Juuls in bathrooms, and find humor in the most strange and ironic of places. While the old term goes that ‘the revolution will not be televised’ in many ways, this growing movement will be televised, publicized, expanded, through its own means and methods.

I.

We are the generation of school shootings. 

December 14th, 2012. My mom tells me, as I hobble out from the red doors of my elementary school in Stamford, Connecticut, that something very bad has happened. I don’t understand. Nobody does. I see the faces of startled adults. I don’t remember the rest of that evening, or the day that followed it. Every time I think about Sandy Hook, the senseless school shooting that left 28 dead, I think about the multicolored walls of my school’s hallway, my sneakers on the white linoleum, the fear in my mother’s voice and in her eyes. That day was the first day I began to accept that I was a child in the United States of America in the 21st century. That day, and the brutal and confusing months that followed it, solidified something in my peers and I. Not just in Stamford, or even Connecticut, but within all young American students. The people in power didn’t care that a gunman marched into a wealthy and predominantly white Connecticut neighborhood and slaughtered kindergarteners. Because as I grew older, I saw the patterns, the televisation of suffering and permitted slaughter among my peers, our youngest, our posterity. This was normalized to us, just another school shooting, another period of brief outrage followed by inaction. The slaughter of children, the preventable slaughter of children shouldn’t be normalized. But it was.

February 14th, 2018. A gunman kills 17 students in Florida. As I’m waiting in a doctor’s waiting room with my mother, I lean over and tell her, “On Monday, all my teachers will talk about is school shootings.” I was wrong. School was another silent funeral march, my teachers quiet and solemn as they assigned us our work and progressed with their work. At dinner with my dad, I tell him, “It’ll never change.”

That isn’t entirely true. Leaders are found in teenagers who now walk through haunted hallways with clear backpacks. They are the face of a new movement, a march for our lives. Many are summoned to Washington and elsewhere a month later to organize, to fight. On March 27th, a day meant for students to walkout and protest the preventable slaughter of students, my school barricades the doors.

No legislation is passed. Nothing changes. The resistance lulls and fades, despite a number of school shootings following the tragedy at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. Gen Z is a symbolic Sisyphus, haplessly pushing a boulder of pleas up a mountain of indifference.

II.

Suzanne Collins published the Hunger Games on September 14th, 2008. It finds its way into the hands of teenagers of all shapes and sizes years later, and it has its cult following. Maybe the televised murder of children strikes a chord within the audience of young adults, as does the story of a growing revolution and a coup against a selfish government.

Gen Z gets its hands on theory at a young age, through Wikipedia and the uncensored vastness of the internet that we are handed. We are denoted as the generation born with the phones in our hands, but all I can remember is having a technology class from a young age, where we were measured on our abilities to type and memorize a keyboard. Our ability to cite and surf and stay safe in the face of danger. This wealth of information at our fingertips molds us.

Dystopian fiction is popular among young teens and young adults. Titles like Divergent the Giver, Harry Potter, the Maze Runner, all influence the devouring young readers. We are raised to see atrocity, in a place where atrocity is accessible to us in every way, shape and form. We are exposed and we are no longer innocent as we rise to 6th, 7th, 8th grade. Girls wear makeup for the first time and scream at the sight of bloodstained underwear. Boys become privy to the joy of video games and self-exploration. In this time, the internet truly consumes. There is no more script taught in classrooms, whiteboards have been replaced with Prometheans, and chromebooks are becoming normalcy.  

In 7th grade I receive my phone. The niches and underground media I discover shape me. I find acceptance, friends, in places where I had lacked them before. As my classmates begin to enter into weeklong flings that end in Instagrammed tragedy, I take a quiz online to find out if I’m gay. I begin to think for myself, and I find independence and a voice on internet circles.

By the time we are promoted to high school, something has shifted. Something is different. Something’s coming, something good. Gen Z keeps calm and carries on.

III.

Donald Trump is inaugurated on January 20th, 2017, to much outrage, but also to much support. In my town, there is a protest around his building that overlooks much of our city center. It’s peaceful, energetic, and beautiful. A Planned Parenthood sticker is on my bedroom door, and I have accepted that maybe, just maybe, I’m into girls.

In 2018, we are in high school. Little fish in a big pond. I don’t have friends in my grade, but stick closer to my premade friends in the Class of 2021. My teachers are lovely, kind, and supportive, and I shine in this new environment. Politics is a force in my life as I begin to write, and as I begin to form opinions and do research. 

It’s easy to say that all of Gen Z is progressive, but this isn’t true. It’s actually very incorrect. The internet is a miraculous tool, one that can provide and produce and create new forms of communication and spread new ideas. But it is still an ocean that is widely uncharted, and young teenagers will fall into holes constructed by right-wing superstars. The racism and homophobia circulated by 4chan is on the internet for anybody to see. New popular figures and icons pledge their vote to Trump. Right-wing rhetoric overtakes in the forms of Ben Shapiro, Pewdiepie, 4chan, Reddit. There’s a neutrality to all things, but the dogwhistles and the normalization of prejudice are dangerously overbearing. As the 2016 election divided our country, it divides the new generation. A divided house cannot stand, and that is for certain. 

It is around this time, in my Freshman summer, where the politics makes a crescendo. I have broken 1K followers on my Instagram art account, where I draw fanart for a variety of musicals and plays. I discover Shakespeare, and lose myself in Hamlet. I am happy with my identity and with myself, and as the 2020 election nears, I stay informed on current events, common issues, the things that need changing.

Sophomore winter. My dad and I take two-hour drives spanning Connecticut, and we talk. He says, “You know, your generation’s fucked. You’re the ones who are going to have to cope with our mistakes.” I tell him I know. I tell him about my feelings towards racial injustice in America, the battle for a higher minimum wage against growing costs, issues in healthcare, housing, poverty, climate change, all thrown aside and discarded. Our generation, of course, when most of our white and male politicians are dead and buried, will have to deal with the repercussions of rising sea levels and global temperatures, volatile weather and crippling natural disasters, all overlooked due to blatant ignorance. “You guys are going to have to fix all of this.”

“I know.”

I’m sick of the battle being placed on the backs of teenagers. I’m sick of our faces being the fight for climate change, the faces of Greta Thunberg and Emma Gonzalez and young revolutionary congresswomen being mocked and heckled by throngs of keyboard warriors. I’m sick of the battle our leaders and representatives should be fighting being placed on our backs, when we are already our own Atlas. Ignorance is dangerous, biting, and overwhelming. We look back to the images and words we were raised upon, the story of the Hunger Games and the broadcasting of school shootings for us all to see. 

It is 2020. Happy new year! I watch from my living room as the ball drops. A brief Twitter moment about a newly discovered disease pops up in my recommended, I brush over it. Photographs of Australian fires are surfaced, and we joke about what a fantastic start it is to the year. 

Sisyphus reaches a fork in the road.

MMXX.

At around 11PM on Wednesday, March 11th, I send a strongly worded letter to the principal and local superintendent. The coronavirus has picked up worldwide, and has made its way into the states. Johns Hopkins has an interactive map that shows bubbles above cities where cases have been reported. Stamford, Connecticut Dead: 0

Recovered: 0 Active: 3.

New York’s cases are on the rise. On that same day, I began to realize the severity that would soon overtake us. I spent the afternoon first at what would be our last rehearsal for our school musical, James and the Giant Peach, and then I went to the library. I did my homework, read The Cripple of Inishmaan by Martin McDonagh, then bought a Subway cookie from the mall. I always keep a copy of King Lear in my backpack, and as my dad pulls up to the sidewalk I gloss over Edmund’s first monologue.

It’s the last normal day for a while.

March 12th comes in like a lion. In my first period class, civics, a classmate yells out, “Trump 2020!” A period later, my friend pulls me aside in the hallways, and asks if I heard that school was closing. 

“It can’t be true,” I said.

“Schadlich just showed us.”

I take my route to my next class, and find the hallway a chaotic mess of energy and camaraderie. What was meant to be kept under wraps has been instantly transferred across the student body over Snapchat stories and texts. People dance, sing, hug. It’s branded as a “Coronacation.” Broadway announces its closure, and I walk out of the front doors for the final time in my sophomore year.

Once again, ignorance overtakes. Within months, the death toll skyrockets, spikes, as we stay holed up in our online classes. My focus wavers, but I press on. Many other students resort to simply neglecting their work, choosing to take this time to focus on their own health or fill up their new time with their own hobbies. Teenagers find solace in each other, through social media and through the connections we’ve built online. As ignorance mounts among our leaders, teenagers jokingly refer to Covid-19 as the famous “Boomer Remover”. It trends on Twitter. Graduation, prom, is cancelled. The generation whose childhood began with 9/11 is once again cut short by a tragedy of preventable errors. Gen Z is subject to adapting once again to an unfamiliar environment, and we undertake.

Protests take over the streets, screaming against government tyranny. The deaths crescendo to nearly 100,000. A video surfaces of a young black man, Ahmaud Aubery, being publicly killed on a road while jogging. Ignorance continues as cases spike, and the political climate is ripe for change. On May 25th, a black man from Minneapolis named George Floyd is killed in a brutal act of suffocation by a policeman. More names resurface -- Breonna Taylor, Tony McDade, Joao Pedro. Names neglected to injustice are once again in the limelight -- Trayvon Martin, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, Mike Brown, Terence Crutcher, Atatiana Jefferson, and more. 

Sisyphus has had enough of pushing the boulder, and Sisyphus takes to the streets. It is the perfect storm. A storm fueled by ignorance and the preventable death of thousands, by decades of injustice, by the mere political climate in the United States of America. Gen Z, our generation, my generation, has lived the darkest hour. We were born at the cusp of a millenia, in an awkward position where society has begun to find its footing in an unfamiliar time. A time of domestic and overseas terrorism, shaped by 9/11 and a countless number of school shootings and slaughtered people of color. Where the new generation has accessibility to the injustice and wrongs committed by those before and those above, right at our fingertips. We have new ways to organize, new ways to televise, new ways to fight. In our armchairs and in our streets, wearing masks as we hold up our hands in surrender.

Generation Z marches. They lead. They throw tear gas back at officers with no hesitation. They create chants, organize through grassroots, and find a chorus of support online. 

Generation Z leads. As politicians and leaders sit in ivory towers, like President Snow in Panem, our generation cries for change. We witness and feel the repercussions of their ignorance in our daily lives, from cuts to education to the publication of school shootings to the absence of American atrocity in our history textbooks to a pipeline that directs BIPOC and low-income students to prison or the military as they step off the graduation stage. Each year, our winters get warmer as our summers turn boiling. The preventable pile of corpses rises in front of us, and we have been taught to sit by and let it occur while the world burns. 

No longer.

Sisyphus steps aside and allows the boulder to descend down the mountain. They are bruised, bloodied, their palms calloused and scuffed and their feet lacerated and sore. Up ahead, shrouded by clouds, is the mountaintop. Sisyphus wipes their mouth, finds their footing, and begins the march.

A CONCLUSION.

We have a future.

It’s awfully dim right now. Barely a light at the end of the tunnel. We began a dead march towards it from the moment we were born into this decaying way of life, held together with glue and string by leaders with fumbling hands and staunch indifference. Our backs are tired, and we are barely adults. Generation Z is tired of fighting a fight that shouldn’t be theirs. How desperately we still crave childhood joy and humor and innocence. 

Change is necessary. It is something that is especially necessary in our time. We can no longer let people die because they can’t afford food or medicine or housing. Students cannot go into school wondering if it will be their last day. Black people should not fear for their lives while wearing a hoodie, driving, jogging in their neighborhood, shopping, or sleeping in their own homes. Elderly white men which encompass most of our political elite can no longer sit on their hands as their population suffers.

The voice of Generation Z screams louder than anything else. It screams in its silence, its activism, its useless martyrdom and battle. Change belies itself within our voice, and it has gone unheard for too long.

Change is the voice of Generation Z.

[swadha2709]

When I was in primary school there was a poster in my class, that read “With a happy mind comes a happy life” and today it makes so much sense to me. Having healthy mind has become more like a necessity for us now. When I was younger, I would stand in the front of the mirror and stare at myself appreciating how amazing I thought I looked unbothered by what anyone said. All of us were like that once, weren’t we? So why did it suddenly become not okay to love ourselves the way we look?

 According to a survey 91% women and 40% men are unhappy with their bodies and resort to dieting to achieve their ideal body shape and 58% of college aged girls feel pressured to be a certain weight. One of most important influences on body dissatisfaction and appearance focus in adolescent girls is how appearance focused their peers are.

I always had interest in interschool co-curricular activities but never took part in any. Like any other normal teenager I was always concerned about how I looked, whether or not I was socially acceptable. We are in a generation where “how to get thin” videos get more hits than “how to stay healthy”. The problem was never our body but the negative ‘body image’ and the way women’s body is objectified and distorted in media. Teens usually define their self-worth and body image by their appearance. People today aren’t only suffering because of the unattainable ways by which beauty is defined but because THEY are being defined by beauty. So rather than working to make sure more women’s body are viewed as valuable, we are focused on making sure women are valued as more than bodies to view. According to Calogero, self-objectification explains the psychological process by which women internalize people’s objectification of their bodies, resulting in them constantly criticizing their own bodies.

 In school, I was told “you have short legs”, “your height stopped increasing after the 6th grade haha” , “please lose some weight Swadha, you look like a teddy bear’’. But teddy bears are cute aren’t they? Being surrounded by a bunch of judgmental people, I started looking at myself differently. I started looking at myself how they told me to. In this image obsessed culture I was convinced that I wasn’t ‘good enough’ and by good enough I mean “thin enough”. 6/10 girls choose not to do something because they think they do not look good enough and tend to spend most of their time and mental efforts on appearance at an expense of all the aspects of their identities.

 When I entered college, I took part in our college’s annual fest because I did not want to make the same mistake I made back in school and trust me it has been one of the best decisions of my life. During this, I met a girl who was also looking for the same department as me. As we walked she told me “they better finish the meeting fast or I’ll be late for my dance class”. Not that I had anything to do with her dancing but the fact that she was so excited to dance even though she was a lot more chubbier than me left me thinking. She continued telling me how she had made it to the Drama Team and that she was looking forward to all her performances. Performing in front of a live audience has always topped my bucket list from as long as I remember. Despite the love for dancing that I had , I always avoided attending my dance classes in school, and whenever I did, I stood in a corner where I wouldn’t be noticed. All this only because I had a negative body image.

But did I overcome it? Yes, I did.  And today I write this because I understand how it feels to be insecure about the way you look and what it takes to overcome it. So back to when I met that girl, I spent the rest of the day thinking “why can’t I do it if she can”. Its then when I realized that she was so much more healthier than I was because she didn’t stress about how she ‘looked’ while performing , the only thing that mattered to her was her PERFORMANCE. That’s when I paused and thought about how my body image had robbed all the opportunities I had during school. That is when I decided to give my 100% in whatever I do. Initially when we started with the fest preparations I knew I had to stand out and make place for myself and this time I had no space for any kind of negativity. However it wasn’t as smooth and easy as it looks, there were times when I had to speak in front of 300 people with my voice hardly being audible to people which did drai my self-confidence at times but there were also highs. I had promised to work hard, I did and it did pay off. All my heads always praised my work and it made my heart so full that there was no room for “how I looked”.

You know I used to practice these little things like, I kept appreciating myself every time I got to. Even if it was as small as “I feel cute today”. You shouldn’t have to ‘believe’ that you are beautiful but you should ‘KNOW’that you are. My goal is to be my younger self again, being able to admire my body regardless its shape, size or colour. That’s the kind of love your body deserves. I believe in you!

#mentalhealth #mentalillness

[ticklikeabomb]

Birth in Reverse - Part 7

Pairing : Plus Size Reader (Y/N & twin sister Nadia) x Avengers ; Y/N x Bucky ; Nadia x Thor

Warnings : Language; Self-harm (kinda) (DO NOT READ THIS IF IT TRIGGERS YOU) ; PTSD ; Lost of Identity ; sadness 

Word Count : 2.3K

Disclaimer : I do not own Marvel nor their concept/story nor their characters. This is only for entertainment purposes. 

Nadia was making her way down to the quinjet, when a clear light shone at the end of one of the corners. Taking the gun out of the holster, she carefully walked to the door and slightly opened it. What she discovered made her body freeze on the spot and her blood boil ; an improvised medical room, with machines plugged at every square, patients laying on tables, lifeless. Every patient had something in common : they were twins. You and Nadia may have been the firsts but clearly not the lasts. Taking in the appearance of the patients/victims, her hands began to shake and rage inflaming her lungs. All of those people dead in vain.  "Nadia?", a whisper came from the door but the only thing she was able to hear was the buzzing of the machines, the horrible memories overflowing her senses. She had one last mission to do for the day, destroy this hell. Letting go off her rage, she began punching the machines with her bare hands, screams burning her throat while tearing the place down. "Nadia, no. Stop", Steve's voice echoed through the room which fueled her rage even more. Bucky stopped his best friend from reaching out to you, knowing she/you needed this. The rage took a turn when the room began to burn. "Nadia, we need to leave", whispered Thor sweetly a few feet from where she stood. His calm voice and posture convinced her in leaving the building. 

The way back to the compound was silent, tension floating over everyone's shoulders. They saw her sit at the far end of the jet, her lifeless gaze plastered in front of her, her bleeding hands calmly on her lap. For a stranger her posture and attitude could be referred as the calm after the storm but the Avengers knew better, each one of them having to deal with their own demons; she was broken, lost in the abyss of her own past, her own rage, knowing there would never be a going back, trapped in a body that wasn't hers, sharing a soul with the person she trusted the most before it all went to hell. The jet landed after what seemed to be hours. Each one of the Avengers gathered their belongings and began to exit the plane, all except Nadia. Sitting at the same position since the beginning of the flight. "Nadia? We're home", whispered Wanda. Her gaze left their initial direction to lock with the Scarlet Witch ones. "There's no such thing as home", were her words, said with so much pain and conviction before standing up and leaving a devastated Wanda behind. She could feel her pain and it was crushing her heart. 

Numbness she made her way automatically to the gym to the punching bag. She needed to feel again, feel in order to let her know that she was real, that she's not some puppet being controlled by a false illusion. She was desperate to feel even if that feeling was pain. She began hitting the bag, the item representing her 'salvation'. Right, left, right left, up, down and the procedure all over again ; every hit harder until she couldn't feel her hands anymore. The only noises being heard in the room was her deep breaths. Silent tears who if they could would elevate in decibels sliding down her cheeks. A hand touched her shoulder and her she stopped, her whole body freezing in place. Turning around she saw Thor. His eyes tainted with pain, devastation but also hope. Hope that he could bring her back, make her feel alive again. No words were exchanged but they communicated through their eyes. Not taking it anymore she fell in a thud on his arms, crying out loud, while he hugged her tightly letting her know he was there to support her. Always. They stayed like that for a good amount of time : her not ready to let go and him ready follow her wish. "I'm sorry", he whispered on the crock of her neck. "For what?", she replied after a while. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of that. For what they made to you." Stepping back to look at him, she implored, "Please don't pity me." 

A small smile crossed his features and he responded, "I've there is on thing that I don't feel about you is pity Lady Nadia. At the contrary, you're one of the strongest women who ever came across my path. Nothing would make me more happy than to call you my Queen someday." Goosebumps crossed her skin, an unknown feeling burning inside her, a good feeling. A promise. "Everything will be alright", commented Thor like he was able to read her mind. "You are the best thing that will happen to me. I know it since I saw you through Y/N's eyes", you confessed truthfully, making him smile brightly. He gently took one of your hands in his and lead you to the medical bay. 

 After Dr Cho patched her up, the mission briefing was on the platter. Not that she was looking forward to it but with Thor by her side she didn't feel so alone. He sat down next to her, Bucky's gaze scrutinizing the pair, his heart aching for Y/N. The team went over the mission with Fury, the man in charge before their eyes turned your way. "Care to explain Miss Y/N?", asked Fury. "I'm Nadia", she simply replied and he gasped a small 'Oh'. "Well Miss Nadia, what happened?" You explained him your side of the story and he nodded. "I admit it wasn't probably the best initiative. You're part of a team now and as a team there can't be loopholes. Communication is key. If there is no communication there is no team if there is no team, than chaos will take over", he explained. "It won't happen again", you told him. "I was informed of your potential reverse of… personality and the best we could do right now is if you have weekly meetings with a specialist. Someone to help you deal with what's going on between you and your sister." "I'm not seeing a shrink !", you counterattacked. "I'm just thinking that -", "I don't care what you think. I'm an ex-Hydra member. It was always kill or get killed, no emotions, no doubts allowed and certainly no asking for help. It's deal with it or die. So no, I'm not seeing a judgmental wannabe friend and talk about what I'm feeling about. I'm perfectly fine", Nadia's voice exclaimed firmly. 

Fury nodded again and stood up but before leaving the room, he turned towards her "Your hands and your eyes say otherwise." She clenched her jaw in anger, knowing she was exposed, vulnerable. Standing up, she made her way out to her room in need for some alone time. Falling on her bed with a long sigh she reached out to Y/N. "You're extremely quiet. What no 'oh Nadia don't. 'Nadia you're the worst, you shouldn't mess with my body.'" But you didn't respond. "Hmm giving me the silent treatment, I see. Fine as you wish." 

The next few days went the same :  Nadia would only make an appearance during dinner times, rushing them because she knew they were slightly uncomfortable with her around, except for Thor and Wanda. She would also spent her time at the gym or on the roof, meditating. During those days she would try to talk to you but again no response and it was beginning to scare her off. It was Friday and she was arriving on the living room when the elevator dinged and Pepper got out of it. Both women tensed and Nadia made the choice to leave when Pepper called after her, "Wait. … Ehm Tony told me everything about you and your sister. How we're related." "Of course he did", replied Nadia. "Don't be mad at him. I saw that something was bothering him and threatened to break that hideous Iron Man poster that he keeps for years if he refused to tell me." You chuckled at her and she joined you, a small smile making it way on her face. "He must really like that poster then", you commented and she rolled her eyes. 

"Don't get me started. Years back when he got it, he sold the art collection I spend weeks putting together and donated it. He called that awful poster 'Art'. Can you believe?", she exclaimed dramatically while widening her eyes. "I surely can", you laughed and so did Pepper. "Are you busy right now?", she asked and you tried to come up with an excuse but was cut by her, "I was just gonna leave some papers but after that I have to go on a shopping spree, look for a dress for a fundraiser. I could use some advice." "Oh, I don't think I'm the best choice for that task, I-" "I could really use some help and I have Tony's credit card", she wiggled her eyebrows. Even though she was still hesitant, Nadia finally agreed to come with her. 

Happy dropped you on what seemed like one of New York's fancy streets with the luxury stores ornamenting it. You followed Pepper's lead without letting your guard down and both of you ended in one of the stores. As soon as you stepped inside, one of the saleswomen approached Pepper and asked her if she needed any help. You rolled your eyes and thought 'We just fucking entered'. "No thank you, I've got all the help in need right here", replied Pepper politely. The saleswoman nodded with a tight smile, looking at you up and down arrogantly, indicating you how you were out of place. You smirked and discreetly showed her one of your knives and her eyes widened, walking at the far end of the store as far as possible from you. Pepper looked at you with a raised eyebrow  and you shrugged, "What?" Shaking her head, she motioned you to the dress section and began going through the dresses. While Pepper was searching for dresses, Nadia stood by her side, her hands in her pockets and laughter caught her attention. "Mom I think I just found it. What do you think?", joyfully exclaimed a teenager. "Oh honey it looks lovely. You gonna be the prettiest girl on prom night." 

A pang of pain cursed through her heart, seeing a type of interaction she would never have. The type of life that was stolen from her and Y/N. Feeling the tears gather on her eyes, she excused herself and went outside to take some fresh air. "Come on man, it's not the time, not the place to show weakness Nadia", she repeated. "Are you ok?", asked Pepper worried. "Yeah I'm good, I'm good", her voice broke slightly. "Have you found something you like?", she asked her aunt. "Nah. Come on let's go check some other stores", she replied and grabbed Nadia's arm affectionally. The ex-Hydra member tensed for a second before relaxing on the unfamiliar gesture. 

A second store later and she still hadn't found the pearl she was looking for. "A third is a lucky charm right?", exclaimed Pepper. You entered the third store and looked around. After a while, the saleswoman approached you. "Welcome. I'm Maria, if you need anything just let me know", she greeted both of you without pushing to far and you liked her vibe. "We're looking for some dresses for a fundraiser", said Pepper. "Alright I'm going to take a look and let you know if I find something appropriated. I just need your sizes." Pepper gave out her size and the woman looked at you. "Oh no I'm just moral support here", replied Nadia. "You should try something out too", commented Pepper. Nadia shook her head and exclaimed, "Nah besides I don't really think they have my size in here. And we're here for you not for me." The saleswoman quickly interfered with a smile, "Dear we have all the sizes you need. Here let me try and find something for you and if you don't like it it's ok. You can just try it for fun." Hesitant but pushed by Pepper, Nadia agreed and exclaimed "For fun then." 

The woman quickly gathered some dresses for you both and send you to the changing rooms. 'This is ridiculous', thought the ex-assassin. "You ready? 1, 2, 3", said Pepper and you both got out of the rooms with dresses on. Pepper's was a creamy orange tone, reminding the color of the sunset while the twin's was purple. "It looks good on you but I tap strict", Nadia told her aunt sincerely. "I agree. You're looks amazing it's the color of your suit." You changed clothes and did the fashion show all over again but this time, she was wearing an emerald colored dress and Nadia's was dark red. "I think we have a lucky winner", exclaimed Pep happily. "I agree." 

The moment came to pay and Pepper insisted for her to take the dress but Nadia refused. Not wanting to argue with her, Pep led it slide and you made your way outside. "Oh I forgot something in the changing room I'll be right back", she mentioned. A minute later she came out with her sunglasses in hand. "Shall we?" "We shall" and Happy drove you back to the compound. When you arrived Pepper walked towards Tony, who was in the living room with the others and greeted him. Nadia was making her way to her room when Pepper reached out to her and hugged her. "Thank you for today, it's was nice. We should do it more often." Trapped in her arms like a dear, Nadia slowly tapped on her back to 'reciprocate' the friendly gesture but feeling awkward. "Sure", she replied faintly. Maybe there was hope, maybe her life was just the beginning. Nadia tried to reach out to you but you still didn't reply and Nadia had a bad feeling creeping over her being. 

* gifs not mine, credit to owners*

PERMANENT TAG LIST : @arrowswithwifi @poetic-pixie @theshortegg @kyber-hearts-and-stardust-souls @prettybubblesintheair @yafriendlyfangirl @marshmallow-witch @ms-cellanies @the-feckless-wonder @cfisher290 @thefangirltheycallviolet @river-fics @lilulo-12 @fanfictionrecommendations-com @spetzerfehn @angieptt @wayward-timetravel-collecter @ashley17jacobs @lokithedancingqueen @wildsoul1221  @robertconradjr @francezka10  @titty-teetee @breezy1415 @lunarprincess3977 @thelostallycat @introvertedsin

Series Tag List : @everything-is-awesomesauce @queenquazar @imthegirlyourparentswarnedyouof @lavender-writer @katsen13 @dewdieboo @black-is-beautiful18 @disastr-femme @crispywolftreeflower @volstrangelove @darkdragonpheonix @tcnyparker @katsen13 @supernaturaltrashy @learning-howto-be-myselfx3

[charmingpplincardigans]

👀

Thank you! (I’ve been enjoying your snippets so much.

This is one of the sections of the Ben & Klaus Brothers (TM) fic. I got 15,000 words into that before giving up, which is the longest I’ve ever gotten into a fic without just deciding I would finish it. I kind of feel like I should get back to it to post before season two comes out, but I also kind of feel like it doesn’t matter either way. I don’t know, we’re working on our brains in 2020 lads! Gonna stop worrying what other people want when it comes to the words we want to write! 

. . . 

“I don’t feel good about this,” Ben said. 

They were standing on the sidewalk in front of a house on the outer edges of the city. It had taken Klaus two bus rides and twenty minutes of walking to even get here and now that they were here Ben wasn’t sure they wouldn’t be better off back in the alley where Klaus had been curling up to take quick cat naps for the last week. On their side of the leaning chain link fence the sidewalk was tidy and the grass was recently mowed. On the other side of it the stones to the front walk were all cracked with tall tufts of weeds growing up through and around them. The grass in the rest of the yard was intermittent with patches of grey dirt between hip high islands of weeds. 

The house itself looked like a squat layer cake someone had left out in the storm. The second and third stories seemed to lean to the right. The light blue paint was flaking off the wooden slat boards that made up the side of the house and settling into the grass like melting snow. There was so much graffiti sprayed on the sides that only the boards nearest the overhang of the uneven first floor roof showed what the original color of it might have been. The graffiti was actually the least worrisome part of the scene to Ben. At least graffiti gave the impression that someone cared enough about the place to still be interacting with it. By contrast, the darkened windows and broken glass made it look unwelcoming and untouched.

“You don’t feel good about anything,” Klaus said. “I’m beginning to wonder if you’ve forgotten how to feel full stop.” 

“When would I have had time to forget that when I’m forced to spend all of my time with you?”

Klaus scoffed and gently touched the tips of his fingers to his chest. “Me? I try my best not to feel anything at all.” 

By way of demonstration he pulled a half-smoked blunt from his pocket and lit it. A woman coming up the sidewalk brushed past where Klaus was still standing in the middle of the sidewalk and cleared her throat loudly while dragging her rolling grocery basket over his feet. Klaus let the blunt hang from his lips while he used both fingers to flick her off. 

“And what a good job you’re doing of that,” Ben observed. 

Klaus turned his fingers on Ben. Then he spread his long legs wide like he was doing stretches and made a point of taking up as much of the sidewalk as he could while finishing off the blunt. He dropped the tip of it onto the sidewalk and let it burn itself out. 

“I’ve got a song in my heart and I will not let you silence it,” Klaus said. 

On the scale of nonsensical non-sequiturs Ben had gotten from Klaus over the last year that he’d been haunting him, this one didn’t even rate as interesting.

“Is that song Teenage Dirtbag by any chance?” Ben asked. 

Klaus did not dignify Ben with an answer. He resituated the strap of his backpack over his shoulder and stepped into the yard. Ben followed behind him as he wandered from patch of weeds to patch of weeds and collected a fistfull of limp yellow and white flowers. He stuffed the stems of them into the front pocket of his jeans. 

When he looked at Ben, Ben just raised an eyebrow at him. 

“For the girl who’s letting me borrow her bed,” he said, as if fistfuls of weeds were a usual form of payment for anyone over the age of seven. 

“If she lives here, she knows the flowers are here. She could bring them inside if she wanted them inside.” 

Klaus shrugged, plucked an extra clutch of the white ones, and tucked them behind his right ear. Then he turned toward the front steps and Ben followed him reluctantly. 

Ben didn’t want his brother sleeping rough, but Klaus was determined not to go back to the Academy and also to spend any money he got within fifteen minutes of it hitting his grubby little hands instead of saving up for a place to live. It was just that he didn’t want his brother sleeping in a murder squat in the suburbs either, but here they were, walking up a very creaky set of decrepit front steps and trying a door knob that slipped about inside of its frame when it was turned. 

The inside of the house was not more well-preserved than the outside. Klaus walked across the entryway and started up the staircase in front of them without stopping to look around, but Ben did peer into the rooms to either side of them as they passed. The walls of the living room on the first floor were also sprayed in a rainbow clutter of designs, but the couch in the center of the room looked relatively clean. There was a pile of belongings next to it which probably meant someone had claimed it. The kitchen was a disaster he’d rather not think about. On the second floor they passed three bedrooms in various states of clutter, all of them had groups of people in them in various states of living their lives, some of which Ben really wished they’d shut the door for. The second floor bathroom was in a worse state than the kitchen. 

Around a corner off the second floor hallway there was a tight doorway with a small rickety wooden staircase leading up into darkness. Klaus started up, running his hand along the wall as he went. When he reached the top he felt around in the dark for a few seconds before saying “aha!” and pushing a creaking door open. Late afternoon light flooded down the stairs and framed Klaus’s body in a halo of dust particles and cobwebs hanging from the door frame. The shadow thrown from him darkened his clothing and washed out his skin and for a moment he looked like he’d looked in the before, when they’d stood next to each other in black uniforms and faced possible death together. 

Now they lived a life where they faced obvious and certain death together and it was not nearly as fun or sure as their life before had been. And given how stressful and traumatic their life before had actually been, that was saying something. 

“Come on or don’t,” Klaus said. “I don’t care.” He turned and moved out of sight, leaving Ben to look down at himself as the afternoon light fell through him with no resistance. 

Ben felt the sting of that, but tried to let it slide off. Klaus had only said it to sting Ben. He seemed to spend a lot of their time alone together trying to figure out how to get Ben to go away. Ben had yet to work out whether this was out of shame or self-preservation or maybe both. Some days his words landed deep enough that Ben absolutely would have left Klaus if he could, but he couldn’t. No matter where he tried to go he ended up back at Klaus’s side eventually, once whatever Klaus had done to himself wore off. 

He waited a few minutes and then continued up the steps. Through the doorway there was a pretty sizeable attic. It was cordoned off into portions by shees tacked to the rafters with a crooked path leading down the center of them as a hallway. He drifted down it, dragging his fingers along the fabric of the sheets even though he could feel them, until he found Klaus in the far corner. 

The space was just large enough for a twin sized four poster bed clothed in dirty thin sheets, a rickety dresser, and a person-sized alley between them. The wooden floors had been covered with a large stained rug that was bigger than the room area. It had the whole window though, cracked and dirty as it was. A faded pink sheet was tacked up just to the left of it, which meant the light was catching and bouncing against the pink sheet and the white one hanging perpendicular to it. The whole space glowed. Ben wondered distantly if this was what heaven would look like if he had ended up there.

Klaus dropped his bag next to the bed. He pulled the flowers out of his pocket and left them on the dresser. Then he pulled a baggy of pills out of the other pocket and dumped several into his hand. 

“Don’t do that,” Ben said. 

Klaus tipped his head back and let the drugs fall into his mouth without even bothering to argue his case to Ben. There wasn’t much of a case to argue anyway. Ben had long ago stopped trying to come up with logical, reasonable reasons why Klaus shouldn’t drug himself to oblivion. He wasn’t going to do it for Ben’s sake and he certainly wasn’t going to do it for his own sake. Anyway, the problem with trying to argue logic with an addict who could talk to the dead was that withdrawal hurt and ghosts hurt and drugs didn’t hurt. In the short term anyway. 

When Ben had been alive he hadn’t realized just how much of Klaus was a naked nerve, how everything he brushed up against could light him up with mental and physical pain Ben didn’t have a reference for. Not that he’d never been in pain, just that Klaus seemed to feel it all differently than Ben did. Instead of viewing it as an extension of himself he viewed it as the core of himself, pulled every drop of it into himself because the more he had the bigger he felt. One would hope that eventually he could make himself big enough to be immune to much more of it, but that hadn’t happened yet. 

Ben hopped up onto the dresser as Klaus lowered himself onto the bed and its creaking mattress. They sat and watched the sun filter in through the window in silence.

“We should get out of town,” Ben said after some minutes. 

“We are out of town,” Klaus said, voice quiet.

“No, for real. Too far to take a bus.” Ben felt wistful. Outside the window the sun was setting over the street and tinting everything a hopeful gold. It lit up in the cracks in the glass like a river burning through a map. He wondered if sunsets looked the same everywhere or if different streets and trees and wider skies reflected it differently. He had a strong urge to leave now and stop in every city between here and the Pacific Ocean to check, and then continue on past the end of the land toward the mystery who the two of them might be when they weren’t hiding in plain sight in the shadow of their collective past. “If you’re not going to go home, if you’re going to insist on living as perilously as possible, you can do that anywhere.” 

Klaus didn’t answer. When Ben turned to look at him he was sitting hunched over his drawn up knees with his eyes closed. The light was hitting his face full on, but there were still shadows collecting around the ridges and shallow hollows of his cheeks and jaw. The flowers behind his ear were drooping forward, thin stems and petals arching down as if they were reaching back toward the earth. Klaus looked tired and very close to slipping away. 

Ben did not want to lose him, and that wasn’t entirely because he worried that if he did he would lose himself. 

“Are you even listening to me? I bet we could get Pogo to give us the money for it. Somehow.”

Klaus fell back on the mattress with his arms spread wide. He dragged them across the mess of sheets, up and down, up and down, creating the top half of a wrinkled and stained, threadbare snow angel. He stared up at the ceiling for several long minutes while Ben listened to the sounds of rustling from the other inhabitants of the abandoned house. 

Some of the sounds were human. Ben was sure that at most, a quarter of the sounds that didn’t seem human were being made by actual non-human beings. By contrast, only a quarter of the inhabitants of the place were not rats or other ghosts. From the outside the place had looked empty, but it was teeming with life and afterlife.

“I am, in fact, trying not to listen to you,” Klaus said. “In case you couldn’t tell.” 

“You can’t live like this,” Ben said. He hadn’t had a living body that could fall to injury or disease for at least a year, but he was still wary of brushing up against too many things. There were stains and needles and spent matches on almost every surface of every part of the house he’d seen. He was very glad he couldn’t smell it. 

Klaus giggled, high and manic, and because they were connected and Ben could feel him he could feel the moment when the drugs hit his head. There was an unsettling swoop in Ben’s gut. 

Klaus rubbed his hands over his face. “No,” he said. “You can’t live like this. You can’t live at all. Anymore.”

“Fuck you,” Ben replied, though he couldn’t bring himself to put any real anger behind it. 

Klaus was an asshole, but he was right. And he was the only thread Ben could hold on to that linked him to his life, kept him from disappearing into the void of after-life. They had been close once, and in some ways Ben was mourning that as much as he was still mourning the loss of his breath or his beating heart. Ben simply didn’t know this person anymore, this pretty, unwashed, painted up boy made of angles and hollows who was on the cusp of becoming a man, but who still seemed so young.

It was Klaus’s recklessness and the utter disregard for his own well-being that bothered Ben the most. To Ben, Klaus’s whole being was a precious flame of life that he knew could go out at any moment. It was urgent and imperative that he block it from the wind. Which was difficult, when all Klaus seemed to want to do was step into the gale. 

“I just need, ten minutes,” Klaus mumbled. “Just give me ten minutes to exist by myself.” His voice was soft, and it trailed off into the final f. 

Ben felt it the moment he was cut off. The feeling of dread for Klaus diminished and he was left with his own feeling of complete and total lightness, in the setting but not of it, not affected by it. He knew Klaus wouldn’t hear him now, probably couldn’t see him. It didn’t matter. He would wait. After all, it wasn’t as if he had anything else to do. 

He pulled a battered copy of The Myth of Sisyphus from the pocket of his jacket and opened it to page 165. When he had been living the book only had 160 pages in it, but it seemed that authors and philosophers were frequently uneasy in death, adding adding adding to the things they did in life as if they could somehow change who they had been. Ben was not doing that. He wasn’t.

But he would chase Klaus from low to low if he had to. He’d make him see how important his muted, shallow breathing was. And then…well, he wasn’t sure he’d actually get that accomplished, so he’d hold off for now on putting anything else on the list.

[jbhenwiler]

SU Fanfic: Redemption from a Dark World Day 1

REDEMPTION FROM A DARK WORLD

A STEVEN UNIVERSE FANFICTION TOLD AS A SCREENPLAY-PROSE HYBRID

This story is set about 6 months after the events of "Steven Universe: The Movie"  My Original Character for this fanfiction, just as Spinel was designed to emulate self-harm and abandonment-related mental disorders, is made to be a "poster child" for PTSD.  (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder)  I hope you enjoy my "Fusion" of the prose and script styles of writing!  (Yes, I know I have problems switching between past and present tense... it's something I couldn't muster the effort to fix.) ====================================

---------------------------------DAY I

   A skinny body lay on the sandy beach in the afternoon.  It was a 21-year-old man dressed in tattered jeans and a ripped T-shirt.  He has short brown hair and pale skin.  Despite appearing to have been washed up from the ocean, his skin and clothing were perfectly dry.  A teenager and a group of mysterious beings approached the man who was still as if dead.  A darkish pink greatsword lay at the man's side.

Steven: (Checks the man to see if he is breathing) Oh thank goodness, he's alive.

Pearl: How did a human wash up here anyway?  The tides should have carried him further west.

Garnet: And for that manner, look at his clothes.  They're dry.

Steven: You're right.  That's kinda weird.

Pearl: (Notices the sword) Wait a minute... That sword...

Steven: What is it Pearl?

Pearl: That design style is Bismuth's signature look.  Only she would make a sword like that.  But I don't remember Bismuth ever making a sword for a human other than Connie...

Steven: In any case, he's out cold.  We should move him to a safer place.  Let's take him back to the house.

   At that point Amethyst arrived, having come from the fry stand, holding a paper bowl of fries covered in Fire Salt.

Amethyst: Yo, check out the dead body!

Steven: Amethyst, that's not funny.  And besides, he's alive.

   Garnet picked up the human effortlessly and began carrying him back to the beach house.  Steven, Amethyst, and Pearl followed her.

   At the beach house, Garnet laid down the still-unconscious man on the couch in the living room.  The man let out a sigh and his left arm jerked a little bit.  Pearl brought in the sword and set it down on a nearby table.

Steven: Even moving him didn't wake him up.  What exactly happened to him?

Amethyst: Just look at his shredded clothes, man.  Whatever he went through, it wasn't good.

Just then, the man stirred.  His eyes tightened up, then shot open.

???: ROSE!!

   Everyone jumped back at the man's sudden outburst, then everyone's face lit up with shock when they realized just what he had yelled out.

Pearl: Rose... who?

???: (Looks around the room) What happened?  Where am I?  Where's Rose Quartz?  (Looks at Pearl) And why did you change forms?

   Everyone is confused.

Steven: You're in Beach City.  Pearl's looked like this for a while, and how do you know my mom?

???: Beach City?  No, that's impossible.  Beach City's gone.  It was destroyed during the first day of the Second Gem War.

   Everyone is shocked and confused.

Steven: What are you talking about?

Garnet: (Appears to be thinking [Using her Future Vision])  Hmm...

Pearl: What is it Garnet?

Garnet: From what he's saying, and what my Future Vision's ability to read timelines is telling me... This man may be from a parallel universe.

???: Parallel... Universe?

Steven: What's the last thing you remember?

???: (Appears to be straining himself with thought) I...  Can't remember much... I think my name is... David?

Steven: It's OK, David.  You don't have to try too hard to remember.

David: Actually, something's coming back to me...  I fell off a cliff... I remember Rose trying to grab my hand but I slipped.  I fell into a river, my head hit a rock, and then I blacked out.  I guess that's how I got here somehow.

Amethyst:  So you were carried by a river into an alternate timeline?

Pearl: It's the only somewhat logical explanation we have.

Steven: Going back to the question you haven't answered yet... David, how do you know my mom?

David: Your... Mom??  You mean, in this timeline Rose had a son!?

Steven: (Lifts up his shirt) See?  That's mom's Gem.

David: (Stares at the Gem) So her Gem's in your body... That means she had to give up her form to make you... Yep.  That sounds like her alright.

Pearl: You mentioned a Second Gem War.  What exactly happened in your timeline?

David: (Straining himself again) Urrgh...

Steven:  Don't push it too hard, David.

Pearl: If I know anything about human amnesia, it's that the memories will come back with time.

Amethyst: Anyway, kid you look starving!  Here, try these fries.

Pearl: Amethyst don't you dare!  You know how humans react to high amounts of Fire Salt!  He'll end up burning down the house!

Amethyst: Aww, can't you take a joke?  Anyway, David, was it?  Let's get you some food that WON'T turn you into a fleshy flamethrower.  Come on!

   David and Amethyst begin to leave the house to go to the fry stand, but Pearl stops them.

Pearl: Amethyst wait!  David's clothing is all torn up, and come to think of it, he smells horrible.  He shouldn't be out in public like that; it would draw too much attention.  Wait here, I'll get some of Greg's old clothes.

Amethyst: Do you really think Greg's clothes will fit him?  The kid's really scrawny.

Steven: He's too tall to fit in my clothes so they'll have to do.  I think dad left some shirts and jeans in the closet from when he was living with us after his leg broke.

Pearl: David, wait here. (Goes to the closet and begins digging through it)

   David suddenly hunches over and collapses onto the couch.  Steven rushes to his side and the others follow suit.

Steven: David!  What's wrong?

David: I'm... Remembering something.  I think it's how I met Rose.

   Everyone gathered around.

David: I remember what happened to Earth in my timeline.  The Second Gem War wasn't a war.  It was a calamity for Earth and its people.  The Crystal Gems were grossly outnumbered.  The Diamonds themselves led a relentless assault on Beach City.  Rose and the others had no choice but to flee for their lives.  There were no human survivors of the attack, and Beach City was razed to the ground.  The Crystal Gems went into hiding and... Humanity was subjugated within days.  The Diamonds decided humans would make a good slave species.  This thankfully meant we weren't wiped out... But in our opinions it was a fate worse than death.  We were lower than the Pearls, assigned to Gems for forced labor, entertainment, and the unlucky ones were forced to fight to the death for the amusement of the elite Gems.

   Everyone looks horrified.

Steven: What was your job?  What did they make you do?

David: ..............................  Nothing, at first.  I was kept in a cage for about a year until Yellow Diamond herself came to requisition me for a job.  (David's face falls with sorrow as his memories slowly seep back into his mind.   His hand slowly goes to the bottom of his torn-up shirt, and with shaking hands, pulled it up.)

   Scattered all over David's torso, in a terrifying crisscross of flesh, were scars.  Crowning them all was a large, thick scar smack-dab in the middle of his chest.  Pearl's hands went to cover her mouth in an expression of horror, and even Garnet looked shaken.

David:  I was a living practice dummy for Yellow Diamond's soldiers.  That's... That's what they made me do.

Pearl: By all accounts you should be dead...  Only one thing could have saved you, and that's--

David: Rose Quartz.  She and Pearl happened to be in the area on a scouting mission.  By the time she found me... (Points to the chest scar) I was just impaled on a Quartz soldier's blade.  I remember the Quartz saying, "I love the sound they make when you skewer them."  I started going cold...

Steven: What happened after that?

David: Keep in mind... I was blinded by pain at that point...  What I do remember is Rose immediately jumping into action.  She poofed the soldier with her sword, which caused the sword inside me to poof too, and I began to bleed out rapidly.  I remember... Rose being physically restrained by Pearl so she wouldn't shatter the Quartz soldier.  My senses were failing me... But I remember Pearl telling Rose to focus on healing me rather than killing the Gem who attacked me.  Her rage immediately turned to sadness.  She crouched down and put me on her lap, then the tears started falling.  She... Wasn't just crying to heal me.  She was genuinely concerned for my life, the life of a human she just met.  It... Captivated me.  My stab wound started tingling and my ruptured heart started closing up, which was a very strange feeling.  Last thing I remember before finally fainting from blood loss was, heh... Rose flipping me over so she could cry her healing tears on the exit wound on my back.  ...I think that's all I can remember for now.

Pearl: That's... Terrible!  You're so lucky to be alive...

   David got up from the couch, and Steven, who was actually shedding his own tears a bit, rushed up and hugged David.

Steven: It's OK, you're safe now.

David: (While being hugged) Huh... That's uncanny.  That's exactly what Rose was saying as she was healing me.  You sure that's not your Gem talking?  (Steven giggles at this and he wipes his eyes)

Pearl: Anyway... Let's get you out of those rags.  Here.  Go into the bathroom to change.  You should definitely bathe too.  There's soap and shampoo in the medicine cabinet.

David: Thanks, Pearl.

   David took an oversized white t-shirt and jeans (Plus a belt to make the jeans fit) and went into the bathroom.  The sounds of water running can be heard from the bathroom.

Garnet: ...That timeline could very well have been ours.

Pearl: I know.

Amethyst: That is one broken human.  Imagine living like that.

Steven: How do you think he'd react if he knew mom's original form?

Garnet: (Checks Future Vision) Not well.  We should keep that under wraps for now.  We should also make sure the Diamonds don't show up, especially Yellow.  There's no telling how he'd react to their presence, whether the Diamonds are friendly or not.

Amethyst: Good point. He'd probably go to town with them with his sword.

Pearl: He's traumatized, not stupid, Amethyst.  I'm pretty sure he'd understand the futility of a direct physical assault on all three of them.

   A few minutes later, a fresh, clean David wearing comically large clothes walked out of the bathroom.

David: Uhh... How do I look?

Amethyst: You look--

Pearl: Amethyst, be nice.

Amethyst: You look a lot better, David.  Now let's get you those fries.

David: Ok...  (Still thinks he looks silly)

   David and Amethyst walked out of the house and started walking on the beach towards the boardwalk.

Amethyst: So... What was Rose like in your world?

David:  She did not take losing Earth well.  It was kinda like a personality disorder.  She would treat Gems, especially Homeworld Gems, like they were trash to be destroyed, while considering humans to be a sort of priceless treasure that had to be protected at all costs.  Rose was obsessed with protecting me, while Pearl decided that I needed to learn how to defend myself.

Amethyst: So she had Bismuth make you a sword.

David: Exactly.  Pearl taught me how to swordfight.  Rose wasn't too happy about it.  She didn't want me near any battles.  But Pearl insisted on it.  "You can't protect him from everything!"  She said.

Amethyst: Rose was treating you like her pet, basically.

David: ...Yeah, I guess that's right.  But it was definitely better than being sword fodder for Yellow.

Amethyst: ...That must have sucked.  Does it still... Hurt?

David: Not really.  But a lot of times I would have nightmares about getting attacked.  Rose would usually wake me up in the middle of them.  She was so focused on protecting me she would get all concerned even if I was being hurt in my dreams.  Now that I think about it, her constant worrying about me was really stifling.  Poor lady was doing her best to defend humanity when the whole planet fell out from under her.  It's the one thing she would never let me ask her.

Amethyst: What was exactly?

David: Why she was doing it.  No other Gem treated us humans that way.  Everyone else was perfectly happy with having us as slaves and didn't care what happened to us.  Rose cared so much that it hurt.  Sometimes Pearl would take me on walks away from the base just so she could sneak me away from her.  Speaking of which... (David's face becomes crestfallen) Rose must be worried sick about me...  Pearl probably thinks I'm dead, and Rose won't be having anything of it.  She's probably turning the world upside down looking for me.

Amethyst: What about me?  I mean, the other me.  You haven't mentioned her at all.

David: (Looks like he's thinking)  Rose mentioned an Amethyst... A couple times.  Unfortunately that's another thing she would never open up about.  She would always look sad when saying her name, though.  I hate to break it to you, but I don't think my Amethyst survived the Beach City Massacre.  Not even Pearl would talk about it.  It must have really hurt them to lose her.

Amethyst: Dang...  I hope I went out fighting.  I bet I was holding the last line of defense or something, buying Rose and the others time to get out alive.

David: ...Something like that.  Rose did also mention a human she was trying to escape Beach City with.  His vehicle was part of the escape plan.  Whatever happened to him wasn't pretty.  Rose keeps a picture of him and her together in a sort of shrine inside the base.  That and a broken guitar.  Some sort of musician I guess...

Amethyst: (If Gems could go pale she would be like a ghost right now) Hey, David?  Maybe you shouldn't talk about that with Steven or his dad around.  Just warning you.

David: You don't mean?

Amethyst: Let's just say that if that man hadn't met his fate... Rose might not have been around to save you.

David: (Grimaces) Yikes.

   They arrive at the fry stand.

Peedee: Welcome to Beach Citywalk Fries: Home of The Bits!

Amethyst: You know Steven doesn't eat fry bits as much as he used to right?  And he was basically the only guy eating them.

Peedee:  Not really.  Ever since the Off-Colors came to Little Homeworld nearby (David visibly tenses up) they've been interested in human foods.  And a lot of them learned that they were one of Steven's favorites so you bet they've become a hot item.  Anyway, what can I get for you?

David: (Whispers to Amethyst) What should I get?

Amethyst: (Whispers back) Fries and a Boardwalk Burger.

David: I'll have a fries and a Boardwalk Burger, please.

Peedee: What size fries?

David: Uhhh... Medium, please.

Peedee: That'll be $6.25.

David: (To Amethyst) Uhhh... Amethyst, I don't have any money.

Amethyst: Oh, right!  Hey, Peedee, just put it on the Universe tab!

Peedee: OK... But Greg better be coming by to pay up soon!  Dad's starting to get impatient and if this keeps up he won't let you keep doing this. (He goes into back to make the food)

Amethyst: So, David.  What's the food like over in Apocalypseland?  Cause the food here will blow your mind!

David: (Looks embarassed and somewhat sad)

Amethyst: Sorry, was that the wrong thing to say?

David: (Tearing up a bit) I miss my mom's cooking...

Amethyst: (Pats David on the back) Sorry, man.  Didn't mean to bring on the feels like that.  Look, here's your food.

   Peedee hands David his food and he and Amethyst find a bench to sit on.  David bites into the burger and looks delighted, the tears vanishing from his eyes.

David: I haven't eaten like this in forever!

Amethyst: You deserve it, bud.  By the time we're done with you, you'll be looking chunky in no time!

   By the time David was finished eating, the sun was beginning to set.

Amethyst: We should probably get back to the house.

   David and Amethyst walk across the beach towards the beach house.

Amethyst: Hey, kid, there's where we found you.

David: (Stops and stares intently at the body-shaped indentation in the sand, then walks over and begins searching the area)

Amethyst: Kid, I don't think anything else washed up with you.  We need to get home or Pearl's going to get all scoldy!

David: (Continues searching, now digging in the sand)

Amethyst: (Walks over) What exactly are you looking for?

David: (Looks at Amethyst, his eyes are tearful again) My picture of mom...  I always have it with me...  It wasn't in my old jeans pockets.  Wh-Where did it go? (Starts digging more frantically)

Amethyst: (Starts helping him look, but to no avail)  David, maybe we can pick up the search tomorrow.  It's starting to get dark.

David: (Wipes his eyes) ...OK.

   David and Amethyst arrive at home.

Amethyst: Yo, guys.  What's up?

Pearl: What took you guys so long?

Amethyst: Apparently Mr. Down in the Dumps here lost a picture of his mommy.

   Pearl and David both glare at Amethyst.

Amethyst: Sorry, went a little too far there.  Anyway, David is really worked up over it.  Maybe tomorrow we could form a search party and comb the beach for it?

Pearl: That's a wonderful idea.  Also, Greg stopped by, and we filled him in on what was going on with our new addition.  He's in the Galaxy Warp room with Steven and Garnet if you want to take David up to meet Greg.

David: Did you say Galaxy Warp?  (A mixture of fear and anger cross his face)  No, I won't go anywhere near that thing!

Pearl: Excuse me?

David: ...Sorry, I... Just have bad memories of those things.

Amethyst: Let me guess, Gems invaded Earth using them?

David: (Nods)  Any moment a Gem could pop out of one.  I... Can't stand being near them.

Amethyst: Well if you won't go to that party then we'll just have to bring the party to you!  I'll go get Greg and the others!  (She runs upstairs)

   Amethyst returns with Greg, Steven, and Garnet.

Greg: (Looks at his clothing on David)  Gee, am I really that big?

David: (Blushes) No, it's that I'm really small.

Greg: It's OK, you don't need to be humble around me.  Although I should probably take you out shopping for more fitting clothes.  Pearl told me all about you.  You've been through a lot haven't you?  (He sits down on the couch)

   Going through David's head are thoughts of this man.  He was certain of it.  This was the man Rose had been in love with when the Gems invaded.  He had come from a universe with Rose and without Greg and gone into one with Greg and no Rose.  Uncannily, it was as if the two of them were fated to be apart no matter what world they occupied.  This saddened David.

Amethyst: Whatcha brooding about, big boy?  Come sit down with Greggy here and talk.

   David sat down next to Greg on the couch.

Greg: So... What was your life like on your world?

David: ....... (Blushes and also looks sad)

Greg: ... That bad, huh?  What was Rose like?

Amethyst: She sussed over him constantly and treated him like a pet.

Pearl: Amethyst!

David: ...No, that's basically it.

Amethyst: Anyway, from the chat me and the kid had on the way to the boardwalk, his Rose was a little different from our Rose.

David: ...From what Pearl... My Pearl told me, Rose changed after the invasion.  She became extra-clingy and possessive.  I only knew that side of her, and the hyper-aggressive persona she took on in battle.  Pearl was her only tether to reason... Honestly, without her, Rose Quartz would probably have gotten herself shattered from running headlong into an impossible battle.  It would have been nice to see the side of her before the war... Before our world turned bloody... Before my family... (He suddenly sobs and tears up, burying his face in his hands)

Greg: Woah, woah, easy there.  It's OK.  We can't change the past, and we can't dwell on it for too long.  Anyway, where did you live before all this?

David: (Calms down as quickly as he broke up) ...I lived in a suburb outside of Empire City.  Henleaf Town, it was called.  It's all gone now... Replaced with one of... THEIR creations. (His face suddenly turns red with rage)  They put up a stadium where humans are forced to fight each other and... And... Sometimes they have to go up against actual MONSTERS!  (Suddenly stops and just sits there panting angrily)

Pearl: Corrupted Gems... They actually had humans fight them for... Entertainment?

Greg: (Is sweating nervously a bit) I'm really in over my head here, aren't I?  This guy needs help.

David: ...The Diamonds' cruelty knew no bounds...

Greg: Have you told him about the--

Everyone but Greg and David: SHHHHH!!!

Pearl: We should probably get to bed.  Greg, David's sleeping on the couch, so--

Greg: Yeah, I know.  Back to the van for me.  Hey, David?  I'll come by tomorrow afternoon and take you to get some better clothes.  See you later!  (Exit Greg)

Pearl: David... You should probably get to sleep.  I'll get some blankets and a pillow from the closet for you.  Steven, get changed for bed.  (Exit Steven and Pearl)

   David sits on the couch, still reeling a bit from his emotional outburst.

David: (To himself)  I shouldn't be so harsh.

Garnet: (Walks up to David and sits down next to him, and puts her hand on his shoulder)  You have every right to be the way you are.  Under your circumstances you could only do so much.  I won't pretend to have been through what you experienced.  You're human.  You have lower limits than a Gem would.  The fact that you're able to express your feelings instead of bottling them up is a great strength.  What's important is that here you have a group of people who will genuinely listen to what you have to say. Good night, David.  (Exit Garnet)

Pearl: (Brought in blankets and a pillow)  Sweet dreams, David.  (David shudders)

   David lay down on the couch and closes his eyes...

   TO BE CONTINUED...

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, V!

You have been accepted for the role of LILY EVANS! We really enjoyed reading your application. We were floored by the sheer beauty at some of the imagery and truly felt something when reading about your Lily. She was unique enough to feel like yours, while also sticking to what we know from canon. We are so excited to have you as part of this roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: V

AGE: Twenty five

TIMEZONE: GMT+11

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I work full-time but as I’m on the other side of the world this shouldn’t impact you all too much! I’ll be able to meet the activity requirements for the group.

ANYTHING ELSE: Nope!

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Lily Jane Evans

AGE: Twenty one

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cisgender female with she/her pronouns. In terms of sexuality, Lily tends to assume she’s straight. It’s never been something she’s really interrogated, despite how varied her friendship circle can be, although that’s not to say she’s right. Lily prides herself on having insight into every aspect of her life - why not her sexuality? She supposes it’s because since she and James got together, there’s not been much point wondering about anything else. For the most part Lily is straight, but I can see her questioning this a little as the group develops. It would, necessarily, be in counterpoint to her relationship with James, as that’s her frame of reference. But, weirdly, I could see her sharing a kiss with another woman and going, “Oh, that’s nice,” and then never really thinking about it again! So, in short, while Lily’s never actively thought about it, but she’s probably straight.

BLOOD STATUS: Muggleborn

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

ANY CHANGES: Nope, everything looks great!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Lily is, by definition, an optimist. Naturally warm and compassionate, she is a firm believer in treating people with respect and on their own merit. She’s sensitive to the whims of others, and focuses on listening closely when they speak. If there’s anything she knows, it’s that people rarely say what they mean. Too often they hide behind flippant remarks or boisterous behaviour. Or, in the case of Severus, quicksilver smiles and double-meanings. Lily holds each word in the palm of her hand before giving it back, gently, as if it were a robin’s egg. That is not to say Lily is endlessly patient and giving, although for the most part she is. She has a streak of righteousness that is hard to tamp down. It coincides with her ego, which draws breath from the near-constant nice things people have to say about her. Lily is often reassured by the knowledge that she’s likely considered every aspect of a situation more than anyone else, so they really ought to listen to her. When she was younger, this manifested as assertiveness to the point of bossiness, though she’s calmed down a lot in recent years. Lily can still have a tight hold on the reins, but she’s far more likely to hand them over to someone else if she can see they’re capable of doing a better job than her.

Lily doesn’t often lose her temper. She went from pleading with Petunia to trading acerbic remarks with the Marauders, to merely laughing whenever someone tries to insult her. The only way to really get under her skin is to undermine who she is. Lily has a very strong sense of self. She prides herself on being independent, level-headed, and quietly confident and collected in most matters. If she’s close to the end of her tether, logic flies out the window. In lieu of her characteristic diplomacy she’ll trade on emotions, managing to spear the heart of the issue with uncanny accuracy. One harsh side to being insightful is knowing just where to press and for how long. Lily hates that part of her, and dreads confrontation as a result. She would much, much rather keep the peace than let that side see the light of day. Deep down, Lily cares about how she comes across to people and how she’s earned her reputation. To be reckless and throw it all away in the heat of the moment is unnatural to her and quite distasteful.

Lily is remarkably creative. Her mind is ordered, logical, but she has a willfully romantic streak that makes her heart beat fast. Lily cares about the gentle, beautiful things in the world. She takes comfort from small moments: a daisy in a vase, the morning sunlight on warm wood, the smell of chamomile and wool. She often takes the time to center herself and focus on the world around her to act as a reminder. This is what you’re fighting for. This is what matters. For Lily, nothing matters more than personal freedom. To be shackled in any way - emotionally or, as is the threat these days, literally - is beyond words. Lily abhors feeling trapped. That is, perhaps, why she works so hard to make people comfortable with her. She wants them to know that she’ll be there for them, that there is no judgement. She is, in this sense, a good person to come with when you have a problem, as there’s nothing she likes more than trying to fix someone up. It’s a way of giving the illusion of control, even when, sometimes, she feels like she’s in free fall.

As it happens with many people, Lily can come to resent in others what she perceives as simple measures of human decency. For example, she works hard to be understanding and helpful. When others don’t return the favor, she can be wry in return, and will remember it for the future. She holds others to relatively high standards as a result. Lily takes so much time thinking about her own thoughts, actions, and motives, that it’s endlessly frustrating to be around people - like Sirius and, sometimes, James - who just jump in without caring about what comes next. Lily can be as impulsive as anyone else, but if it has the potential to backfire or hurt someone else, she’ll draw the line. In this sense, Lily has a very strong sense of justice. She cares about the dignity of every living thing, and would defend anyone’s rights until her last breath. The only time that wouldn’t be the case is if that person has completely disregarded everyone else in their pursuit. Case in point: Lord Voldemort.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

Cokeworth, a city wedged in between Coventry and beneath Northampton and the poorer for it, because people zipped past on the M45-M1 for one or the other, and otherwise completely overlooked that squat, ugly, brown-bricked place that perched on the River Nene like a river rat. It was an industrial place, straight out of Dickens, with a weary, perfunctory air so practiced by housewives with soap-reddened hands and children who cycled to school and spat in the street. The Evans’ lived in a terraced house of identical terraced houses, with a box of flowers beneath the front room window, and a narrow chimney that smoked, without fail, every day of the year, even in summer. The hallway was carpeted with lurid yellow-green flowers - her mother’s concession to 70s style - and the walls hung heavy with photographs of their childhood. Lily and Petunia squinting in the sun on a Yarmouth beach, them in school uniforms, a portrait of their nan. The living room was small but neat; the kitchen, up the back, equally cramped. The door was often propped open to keep the breeze going through, and it opened onto a small paved yard which was big enough for a few flower pots, a washing line, and the outside loo. Upstairs consisted of a bathroom and two bedrooms.

Lily and Petunia had always shared a room. Even when Lily was at school she’d come home every summer and lay awake in that sweltering bedroom, with posters fading on the walls and the windows thrown open to coax any whisper of cool river air. Petunia’s side of the bedroom was immaculate: a painstaking recreation of any teenage magazine, with a dressing table, a vase of dried flowers, a small bookshelf with Enid Blyton and Paddington Bear serials. Lily’s was more chaotic: trinkets cluttering every available surface, clothes strewn on the floor or the foot of her bed, where a game of solitaire lay abandoned. But in the middle of the room, on a small table beneath the double windows, was a record player. And it was there, on the carpet before it, that she and Petunia was lay for hours, sucking sweets and knocking knees, making their sedate way through the hits recommended by Petunia’s group of school chums, all of them giggling and pink-cheeked and mean and members of various clubs or sports teams. Petunia, needless to say, was not sporty, but she was doggedly loyal, and followed those girls around with a martyred, slightly desperate air, that Lily, even at nine, found repugnant. Of course, she didn’t have much to go on. Severus was deeply unpopular, especially among the boys on their estate. Those boys wheeled around chasing dogs or trying to filch cigarettes from uncles or older brothers, and would sail past Severus as he stalked along, calling him names and jeering.

It was boredom that drew Lily to the river bank. Boredom and irritation. Her parents were well-meaning but ordinary people. Her father worked in a factory, and her mother worked in the employment office. They were frugal, clean, conventional. Lily’s father had neat fair hair and a moustache that bristled when he read the news or smoked his pipe. Their mother was a tall, well turned out woman, who cooked tea quickly and efficiently with her hair in rollers. These days, Lily can see the truth: that they had once been young people with no other option but to get married, and so they decided to make the best of it. But when she was a girl they were too nice, too oppressively stupid and boring, that it was all she could do sometimes to stop herself from screaming. Lily wasn’t necessarily a badly behaved kid. She did her homework in front of the television, laying on her stomach with her legs in the air, glancing between her arithmetic and Granada. She ate her greens and helped her mother with the washing. Early on she felt a restless stir. For a long time she was content to lose herself in books or music or television shows, but then, when she was around ten, the itch grew unbearable. She tried wandering the estate but that became impossible - mainly because of the boys, who whistled whenever she walked past - so she went to the places everyone had forgotten or grew tired about: the backs of shops with weeds springing the concrete, a scrubby park with a broken swing-set, and, eventually, the river.

When she received her Hogwarts letter things changed quite dramatically. Lily had to leave her school, which wasn’t too terrible. What was terrible was the falling out with Petunia, who wouldn’t speak to her until the following Christmas, and that was to ask her whether she’d pass the sugar, thank you. In the years that followed Lily stopped thinking of her childhood home as a trap and more of a warren, which, while feeling like a maze, at least ended somewhere, at some point, and so it was only ever a matter of time before she would have escaped. Likely that would have been through marriage, or getting a job, or attending secretarial school, like Petunia. Like all people who have grown up with little, Lily became fiercely protective over her childhood. The other muggleborns had divisions of their own - divisions based on comparatively newer, but no less insidious ideas around class and place. Lily’s Midlands accent, with the lazy vowels and clipped endings, made some of the toffs wrinkle their nose; and one boy who’d boasted about attending Harrow before “all this”, once called her a yampy (that moment was alleviated by another equally horrid boy making a snide remark about Harrow being the homestead of Eton rejects, which drew fire from Lily for at least five minutes). Strangely, it only bolstered Lily’s sense of sense. Yeah, she was poor. And yes, she was a no-hoper from nowhere. But at least she had some bloody integrity about it. Perhaps that was the most important thing her parents ever taught her: pride. Pride in work, school, family. Above all, to have pride in herself. There was nothing those toffs could say that Lily hadn’t thought about herself a hundred times before, anyway.

OCCUPATION:

Trainee, Committee on Experimental Charms, Ministry for Magic.

When Lily left school, she didn’t have a plan. For the first time it felt like she didn’t need to plan three steps ahead. The whole country was gripped with a kind of fever, a remnant of the early part of the decade, where love was free and happiness was contagious. Since then, of course, a war had broken out, Margaret Thatcher became the PM, and Lily wasn’t a girl anymore. Despite that little voice telling her to buckle down, do something useful, she couldn’t resist life in the city, where the men wore platforms and the women glittered in the night. Where music eclipsed her, and she could disappear down muggle warrens without a care in the world. Eventually, however, her parents had a word. It went along the lines of, “Lily, darling,” and, “Come now, poppet, don’t you want to do something useful? Make something of yourself?” And, naturally, Petunia had a few snide remarks to make, about magic and nonsense and the stuff of fairy tales, and, well… Lily might pride herself on standing firm, but it’s a little different when your family’s staring at you over the mashed potatoes, looking all po-faced and Concerned. So, a little under a year of her graduation, Lily applied for an training program at the Ministry. It’s quite possibly the most middle-class job she could imagine, but it’s surprisingly enjoyable. Lily’s natural gift with charms has served her well. She likes it primarily because charms make people’s lives better. A ditty to keep the tea warm? A waggle of your wand to keep the flowers alive? Lily treasures the small moments in life; from her perspective, there’s not enough beauty in the world - it’s fading fast, faster every day - and if she can do even something small to keep spirits up, she’ll do it.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Once, when she was much younger, Lily might have found the Order a terrible thing. In a voice that sounded a little like her sister’s, she reasoned that anything that disrupted society was by nature dangerous. When she was twelve years old, things changed abruptly. Her parents had never been particularly well-to-do. They were, in fact, from proud working-class stock, the sort to have fifty cups of builder’s tea a day and talk knowledgeably about roof tiles. When the labor strikes started across the country, the tone of their conversations went from cheery to strained. When her father was laid off after twenty five years at the same job, Lily was filled with indignant rage - a rage that simmered for most of the 70s. She studied other labor movements and found within her a kindred tie to all of the men and women who fought for their rights. That soon expanded into any movement for the gain of freedom: miners, women, the queer liberation movement. Lily shouldered their hopes and took it upon herself to lift alongside them.

It should come as no surprise that when Lily found out about the Order, she agreed with it immediately. That decision was made in the heat of the moment - graduation was looming, the world outside was growing darker, and seemed more and more every day that she and her friends were at the mercy of ancient forces well beyond her understanding. Now that she’s been a member for a few years, her attitude has mellowed, matured. Lily’s flash of righteousness has been tempered by cool logic. For her, it’s a melting point of conflicting interests. What about morality, ethics? If the Order act without guidance, doesn’t that make them as bad as the Death Eaters? Lily has a measured, open mind. Capable of holding many viewpoints at once, she is as considerate with these arguments as she is firmly loyal. Though some of her friends - Sirius, mainly - would consider any dissenting viewpoint to indicate disloyalty, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Lily is aware of how damaging zealotry can be; how puritanical ideologies can crush as well as triumph. She believes in discussing each decision, in weighing options and considering each seriously, on its own merit. When she decided to form the Dissendium Task Force, it was with no small amount of thought.

For her, the Task Force represents something larger. It’s a direct address to every strain of bigotry in their society. When she was a girl on the riverbank, Severus by her side, she thought the Wizarding World to be infinitely tolerant and marvelous, a peaceful and enlightened society. Now that she knows differently, Lily doesn’t necessarily think that idyll is impossible. Difficult, certainly, but not beyond the realm of possibility. With Dissendium, the Order, everything, Lily wants to strike at the heart of the problem, to shed light on the complex and overlapping issues that have led them to this moment, to pull away the curtain and speak with the voice of an outsider. Lily has been called many things. But being a muggleborn and a woman has given her insight beyond what her peers are capable of.

Unexpectedly, Dissendium has given life to a different kind of problem. Lily never intended to be the caretaker of anything, but accidentally creating what more or less could be termed a commune was not on her list of things to do. Her immediate issue revolves around Dissendium’s duty of care. How much can she, Marlene, Remus, and Emma do? How much longer can the McKinnons care for all those they’ve rescued? These issues are pressing to Lily - and she can feel the tide within her start to shift. Sometimes it’s all she thinks about. What to do with everyone, how to care for them, to ensure they stay happy enough to make their lives again once all this is over… It’s so much, even with everyone helping her, and though, logically, Lily knows she should fear what this obsession might do to her, she’s blinkered herself. Dissendium, what it represents, means so much. Can’t people see?

SURVIVAL:

Lily is fortunate to have James. She’s not going to deny it. Of course, she would survive without him. Had things been different and they had resisted that insistent tug between them, Lily would have found a way through. Living in London proper is a fool’s game, these days, what with the Death Eater elite swanning around the magical zones. She might have burrowed into a fringe muggle society in a smaller city or town, maybe even with Marlene - or Remus. Lily’s theorised what it might be like to live with Remus, to make a tidy home together, and it’s a remarkably comforting thought. Life with James is a good deal more different than the life she imagined when she graduated. Their townhouse is… big. James likes to go all modest and bluster things like, “Oh, it’s really not bigger than average, really,” and, “Have you seen Alphard’s place? Merlin knows how Sirius doesn’t get lost every bloody day,” but Lily just gives him a deadpan look and he takes the hint. Truth is, it’s a little too large for her. Lily grew up in a two bedroom terraced house in Cokeworth. The type that, until recently, had an outside loo. Living in a townhouse like James’ is, at times, strange. Lily doesn’t know what to do with all the space. The few things she’s left scattered around always seem slightly out of place: a forgotten scarf, a pile of books with the spines broken, a yellow glass cigarette dish she found at Oxfam. In the flat she lived in before - a cramped loft in Coventry, with old factory windows and worn down floorboards - these trinkets were kitsch, intriguing, unusual magpie symbols of a woman with eclectic, slightly old-fashioned tastes. But in the harsh light of James’ house, they’re ugly. Cheap. Once, in a flash of shame, Lily almost threw them all away. She resisted on the basis that though they were cheap and, yes, ugly, they were hers, her own. They had been gathered from the recesses of muggle shops and given to her by her gran, and she loved every single battered lamp, 50s crockery, and disfigured cat statue she owned. They had been warmed by her hands, carefully arranged on windowsills or bookshelves. In a way she hasn’t managed to yet articulate, her things in James’ space is symbolic. Lily feels out of place. She’s just not sure whether it’s bad enough to do anything about it.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Lily needs people. While she likes a measure of solitude to recharge, she needs to be with people, to share thoughts and dreams, to balance one another, to keep each other company. For her, relationships with other people, and especially the Order, are among her priorities. Lily works hard to keep her relationships with other people. If ever she feels something is amiss, she’ll be the first person to address it head on, arms folded, head cocked. Lily is direct. However, she’s not omnipotent. Lily does, occasionally, favor her vision of people over the reality. She’s not totally blind to people’s faults, but she will, almost unconsciously, reinvent and gently manipulate them into something more desirable. A habit of cockiness, for instance, can be turned into confidence; selfishness for independence. Lily has an unwavering ability to see the good and bright in other people, even when they don’t see it themselves. For this reason she can, sometimes, think that everything is going quite well until it really isn’t. In those moments she’s always taken aback: surprised at her own willful ignorance, her tendency to the beautiful over muddy reality. At the moment her relationships are… well, they’ve been better, but they certainly could be much worse. She’s in a happy medium with almost everyone, and it’s not reached a point of crisis enough for her to intervene.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:

It goes without saying that I see James and Lily together! Having said that, I am more interested in developing a realistic relationship than simply getting them together for superficial purposes. In fact, I would like to explore the more mundane elements of their relationship against the backdrop of war. I have, personally, recently hit a major milestone in my real life relationship, and it prompted me to think back on what those early days were like. The splendor! The excitement! The anxiety! The hitherto hidden insecurity! While Lily knows herself, it’s something else to know yourself in relation to someone else, especially in a romantic sense. Not only that, but she and James are living together. I’d like to see them come to terms with their relationship while balancing the war and Order commitments. Do we really have to argue about the washing up before an Order meeting, etc. That sort of thing! I’ve read Karli’s application and I completely agree when she talks about the darker or more complicated parts of their relationship. I can absolutely see Lily and James clashing over ideology. And if he’s concerned she’s slipping away… I think there could be some truth to that, but it’s not necessarily because of James. If anything, I think there’s a pressure to drop everything to focus on the war effort, and what we know from canon is that James and Lily defied and rejected that on the basis of their love for each other and, eventually, Harry. In those terms I would like to see how they fare in this new world. I am definitely up for breaking them up and getting them back together, or doing basically anything!

In terms of other ships, I also have a real soft spot for Lily/Remus. I think their mutual respect, compatible personalities, and gentle warmth could blossom into something deeper. I’m not sure how it could - if at all - manifest in this group, but I’d be interested to see how Lily would handle it. I think she is intensely devoted and largely monogamous - she is, after all, a pretty traditionally-raised young woman. But I could see her having a moment of stupid desire and not letting herself overthink for just one moment. Of course, she’d overthink the hell out of later, but until then it’d be wild and exhilarating and frightening and I think she might need that, even if it’s only once.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

While Lily grew up working class and a woman, she was white and reasonably well-educated. I think, actually, that a defining part of her is the notion of class, especially when she went to Hogwarts. In her world, people like Sirius wouldn’t have crossed her path, except in the form of a character on the television or in a book, or maybe someone she’d pass on the high street (a dash of black silk and tailored trousers; an air of arrogance and ownership). Even, to an extent, James. Aside from their compatible personalities, that’s probably why Lily resonates so much with Remus, and I definitely think Peter, as well. She senses the underdog in people and is drawn to them because of it. Her interest in working class or other labor movements positions her strongly in the context of the Order and especially Dissendium. She is so finely attuned to bigotry, regardless of its shape and creed.

I actually see Lily, especially when she was younger, as being very sharp to people like Sirius and James. She would have clocked them immediately for who they are: rich boys with nothing to lose. I think that helps explain a lot of her early (canon) animosity towards them both; though this would be directed at James, possibly because she was attracted to him. Over time that has mellowed and she’s not at sharp-tongued as she once was, but Lily’s still sensitive to any passing comments that could construed a certain way, and she’d be the first to dryly point out someone’s privilege.

That being said, Lily’s certainly not without fault. That old sense of self-righteousness and martyrdom can creep in whenever she’s not careful, and I think it’s at those moments that she’s the most unbearable, like someone who’s willfully blind to their own issues because it suits their argument. I think just as Lily has a notion about other people that she prefers to uphold, she also views herself in a similarly flattering light, and would prefer to live in that space than be fallible and human. I think, actually, that Lily might sometimes struggle with authenticity. It is possible, after all, to be so giving and genuine that you give the impression of insincerity, and while I don’t see it happening often, I would not be surprised if another character perceived her interest to be slightly self-serving. Lily identifies strongly with her position as an underdog, and I think that comes out in strange ways.

In terms of blood status, it’s self evident that Lily is a target in this game and, of course, in canon. She would not, under any circumstances, take any shite for being muggleborn. Largely, I think she’d prefer to be direct but polite about the whole thing, or to make an off-hand joke to alleviate the situation. But she definitely would not let anyone have a go at her. That’s possibly where she clashes the most with other people. Sometimes when you’re so sensitive to something, you take any opportunity to teach someone the error of their ways. Lily would certainly see herself as an educating figure, someone who by default has the moral high ground. I can see why Sirius, potentially, might find that irritating, or would call her out on it.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

I was drawn to this roleplay largely because it ticked all my boxes. Emphasis on development and writing? Genuine desire to explore characters and throw them into all sorts of nonsense? A solid admin team and interesting writers? I haven’t roleplayed on for a while, so this is a little new to me. That being said, I feel excited and confident to write Lily in the context of this group, so long as you forgive any stupid mistakes I might make!

PLOT DROP IDEAS:

This application is already so long! So I’ll cut it short and say yes, I absolutely have ideas. I’d like particularly to explore Lily and Dissendium further, and I’d like to see questions of ethics arise within the Order. Lily’s at a place to really push everyone to think about their motivations for being in the Order beyond “fighting evil”, and I think that could prove valuable to several characters. Oh! And I would love to think/write more about Lily’s past and where she’s come from. I’ve done a lot of research into the Midlands and the sort of vibe she would be grown up with, and let me say, I have an absolute arsenal of period/region appropriate slang for you all.

ANYTHING ELSE?: I have thrown together some things on a mockblog for Lily, but it’s all over the place/untagged/generally a shambles. I wanted to collate images that reminded me of Lily and Cokeworth and the 70s in general. You can find it here.

[psqqa]

makeste replied to your post “i can’t say i came out of bnha with a whole lot of Shipping Thoughts,...”

I would read all of these but especially 2 and 3 and especially especially 5 omg. or a version of number 8 where Shouto interrupts their usual 30 minutes of silence and good vibes by asking Momo for advice about his love life because of number 5. and he asks her because he knows she's in a polyamorous relationship with Jirou and Kaminari, which happened due to the band AU, and something something but I'm sure there's a way to fit the rest of it in there too lol

ok omg yes we can do this. hmmm ok so it’s eri’s.........13th birthday??? i have no idea how old she’s supposed to be in canon. but let’s say that in seven years or so she’ll be turning 13. (oh okay the wiki tells me she’s 6 so bang fucking on fuck yeah!! wow that’s a first.)

anyway, it’s eri’s 13th birthday and because it’s eri’s 13th birthday it has to be The Greatest 13th Birthday Party In The World because mirio’s baby girl is a teenager now and that needs celebratin!!!!

and THAT means Getting The Band Back Together because that was an Important Moment in the development of eri’s happiness and safety and joy and she’ll need that energy going into adolescence.

it also means asking aizawa to cater because like he’s a chef or something in his spare time right? ‘you should ask literally anyone else’ says aizawa, ‘that is not the kind of cooking i do. it is in fact virtually the antithesis of the cooking i do.’ but eri gives him her Big Doe Eye Look Of Awe all ‘you can cook and you’ll make food for me???’ so now he has to do it. it’s perfectly rational ok.

(hmm ok this turned into a whole thing, so let’s throw that under a cut)

so that’s happening and casa momokamijirou is now band practice central. which means some Domestic Fucking OT3 Shenanigans. progress on this is discussed during the weekly breakfast and todoroki offers to be part of the tech crew again. he also recently worked a case with inasa. which is a thing that keeps happening every few months somehow despite being on opposite ends of the country, and he’s like ‘yo you know airbending would make for some cool effects. i’ll see if i can rope him in somehow. it shouldn’t be hard, he does like kids.’

inasa is successfully roped in. tech crew planning occurs. ‘wow inasa sure is enthusiastic about this’ todoroki thinks to himself one day while he eats cold soba in his office at 4 pm because villains have no respect for reasonable lunch hours. there is some more contemplation on inasa’s enthusiasm around children and also todoroki and then his brain makes on small step for mankind but one giant leap for todoroki and goes ‘wait.’ he spends roughly the next 20 minutes blinking rapidly at the framed silver age all might poster he’s got hanging on his office wall because he can be a bit of a petty bitch like that. there is a further amount of blinking that happens over the next 48 hours.

halfway through his next breakfast with momo he puts down his natto and says ‘kaminari is a bit of a flirt, right?’ which prompts some blinking from momo as well. she puts down her natto as well. 

‘i suppose?’ she says. ‘i would characterize it more as spirited affability, though.’ 

todoroki considers this briefly and nods. that is a fair assessment. ‘how did you know that the.....spirited affability aimed at you was different from the spirited affability aimed at the rest of the world?’ 

momo blinks at him again. ‘he told me.’ she says. ‘and kyouka.’ she smiles. ‘he knows us quite well, after all. he knew we needed the help.’

todoroki returns her smile because he is happy for her happiness but then he frowns because that doesn’t exactly help him. 

‘........has someone been aiming.......spirited affability at you as well?’ momo asks, catching on.

todoroki nods. ‘i came to the realization a few days ago that over the course of our acquaintance yoarashi inasa has been......particularly spirited in his affability towards me. i’m struggling to figure out what that means.’ 

momo smiles. ‘what would you like it to mean?’ 

todoroki frowns more deeply. ‘i’m not sure,’ he admits, ‘but i suppose the amount of thought i’ve put towards means i would like it to mean something.’ 

momo nods. ‘perhaps you should ask, then. in my experience direct communication is crucial to the success of any relationship.’ 

todoroki nods and smiles. ‘perhaps i shall.’ he says. 

‘would you like me to ask denki for his thoughts?’ momo asks. ‘he is admittedly better at this than i am.’ 

todoroki considers this. ‘i think i would prefer to ask him myself, if i decide i need the help, if that’s alright.’ 

'of course,’ momo says and they go back to their natto and their silence and their good vibes.

bakugou attends therapy. bakugou attends a yoga session. bakugou takes up jazz drumming. bakugou calls his mom. bakugou buys a birthday present for eri. each step of the way he thinks to himself ‘time to show these assholes how it’s motherfucking DONE!!’ then he thinks on the 45 minutes his therapist spent explaining the trap of external validation like he was some kind of idiot who hadn’t read up on this shit before starting therapy. he’s a model fucking therapy patient. he’s rocking this shit. he considers that again. he acknowledges briefly that she may have had some kind of point. bakugou goes to band practice and fucking obliterates each and every count in. John Bonham fucking wishes he could count off as good as bakugou does.

momo comes home for another band practice to find that kaminari, who is not my self-insert but who is in this moment embodying my spirit, has locked bakugou in the quirk-killing space momo has been experimentally building, and has been playing Learnalilgivinanlovin at him on repeat for the past few hours. ‘yeah he’s like a million times better than he was when we first met, but he was just telling me about how he’s going to win the yoga session his therapist suggested he go to, so like, i think he could do with some reinforcement of the concept.’

‘todoroki may come to you for advice at some point soon,’ momo says. ‘if he does be nice. if he doesn’t, don’t push it.’

kaminari grins that big grin of his. ‘you know me, yaomomo, i’m always nice!’

momo says nothing.

kaminari’s grin falters. ‘aren’t i? momo? momo, i’m nice person! momo!!’

momo smiles. ‘you are. that’s what i love about you.’ and leaves him blushing in her wake.

jirou, on the other hand, is holed up with tokoyami in her Music Room, introducing him to the Great Hits of early 2000s goth rock. tokoyami looks pretty rapturous as some guy dissolves into feathers on screen. he asks her for the tabs. she hands them over as if she had been expecting this. momo’s sure she had. it’s what she loves about her. she leaves them to it.

the birthday party happens. aizawa looks like he’s aged about 15 years but the food is delivered and it is delicious. eri shyly asks him if he’ll do her hair once more ‘for old time’s sake’. he smiles and those 15 years return to him. eri’s hair looks great. 

the band comes out. eri is surprised and thrilled. she asks if she can sit on mirio’s shoulders again like she did the first time. mirio looks like he’s about to vibrate into the sun with joy and says yes, of course.

the band is a hit. everyone dances, including toshinori, who is dragged into some kind of jive by ashido and he rocks it. and then has to immediately sit down for 20 minutes. but it’s good, it’s fine, he’s happy. eri’s happy. mirio’s happy. midoriya fucking cries into his plate of birthday cake he’s so happy. 

todoroki drags inasa off to the side at some point to ask him about the thing. momo was correct, of course, and he resolves to tell her this at their next breakfast he thinks as he too smiles happily and dances (awkwardly. with inasa. it’s great.)

it’s a friday night, but crime never sleeps, so a number of them have to get home to sleep so they can work in the morning. the rest remain to help clean up because ‘that’s what heroes do!!’ and as mirio picks up garbage, he looks over to where eri and kirishima are sorting things into recyclable and non-recyclable trash, laughing together at whatever story kirishima is telling, and mirio’s done it, he’s a professional hero, he saves people every day, but this right here is the most heroic he’s ever felt.