#because the thing is - it really is fine like 99.99% of the time. but god help that .01%

[captainjonnitkessler]

There's a certain segment of leftists that believe that, without capitalism, everyone would be naturally motivated to build things safely and to code. They believe this because the only reason they can think of for having code officers and regulatory enforcement is to stop evil capitalists from cutting corners to make more money. And while that is a contributing factor some of the time, we don't actually live in an episode of Captain Planet and what actually happens is that the people designing the space go "ooh, this would be so much pretty if we designed it like this instead!" and it turns out that their prettier option is not ADA compliant, not NFPA compliant, and a energy-sucking ventilation nightmare.

I was actually just about to make a post along these lines. Like yes, corporations cutting corners to save money and foremen forcing people to work unsafely to be more productive are huge issues and the primary reason for labor laws. But also . . . have you ever tried getting a construction worker to wear a hard hat if safety isn't right there watching him?

Like, pretty much everyone will cut corners or ignore safety guidelines here and there, and not out of greed or maliciousness. It's just because it's faster and easier and it's really, really easy to think "oh I'll just do it real quick, it'll be fine". Or for over-confident people to think "I don't need to look up how to do this, I know how it works", or for someone to just plain be wrong about how they interpreted something. Or to use the wrong part for something because there's a 99% chance it'll be fine and getting the right part will cost a thousand dollars and won't be here for eight weeks.

Basically any system that just relies on humans always doing everything perfectly by the book just because that's the right way to do it is doomed to failure. THAT'S why we have regulatory agencies and require things like permits and inspections - to disincentivize people from taking those shortcuts. It's my biggest problem with a lot of leftist visions of the perfect society - they rely on people not acting like people anymore, and that's just never going to happen.

[zyqmp]

LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR RE-DESIGN/RE-IMAGINE/RE-ALLY DON'T KNOW

!Disclaimer! This was all for fun, not hate to the Hazbin crew or Viv. I love and adore the show, and respect if you dislike the design !NOT ANIMATOR FRIENDLY BTW!

I love this show so much, but the designs just don't sit right with me half the time. I know Viv made most of these characters as a teen, but I still feel like something could've be done, but I won't complain about the designs too much because most of them are fine. I only have some problems with certain designs.

Original design, from Hazbin Hotel

My Re-Design

OK MY GOD MY MOTIVATION SPIKE WENT UP

I only have a couple things I dislike about Hazbin's Lucifer's design, and I tried to fix in my Re-design

The amount of white and red

His lack of "royal" attire

His hat and bowtie(it's repetitive in viv's designs and not really needed for a character like Lucifer)

His cheek/blush on his face(what is it for???)

Lucifer in the show to me, shouldn't be wearing so much white, that just a fashion peeve of mine wearing so much white- but the KING of HELL should be wearing more royal attire. SUCH AS PURPLE BECAUSE IT JUST WORKS IN SO MANY WAYS.

1 : Purple for centuries has been associated and used for royal attire for the rich and elite

2 : It's the color most associated with the sin of Pride(not the gay one srry fellas) and the most connected color with Lucifer.

3 : It's unique definitions are tied back to Lucifer's behaviors in different media, Mystery, Ambition, Power, Wisdom, etc.

Couple of side notes I forgot to mention

His Outfit is both a mix between 1700's inspired outfits, fantasy, and gothic clothes

The snake on his hand is like half alive and half asleep/still, it's more of a half-alive puppet he can control sometimes

His "wings" are fake because he's ashamed of his real wings

His winged bowtie is stationary

He has a broken halo he hides 99.99% of the time

His hair/head fire constantly moves

That's all for now, maybe I'll re-design more characters in the show. If I keep making re-designs btw, I'm starting from what designs I dislike the most, then moving on to designs I don't dislike as much. So tell me what you think about this lil purple guy, and who I should maybe Re-design next.

More Lucifer redesign

oops made my redesign lesbian /j

[finrays]

Like, honestly, I think y’all would benefit a LOT from the Grocery Store Test when it comes to talking to other people on this webbed site.

It’s super easy and it makes life better for everyone. Here’s the test;

If you were in line at the grocery store, and two total strangers were having the conversation you’re thinking of butting into in the queue ahead of you… would you speak up?

Sometimes the answer is absolutely yes; you’d probably call someone out if they say something bigoted. You might chime in if you agree and have additional insight to add. These things you’d do without really hesitating. They’re fine to do online.

Sometimes the answer is absolutely no; if you agree but don’t have points to add, maybe you just nod and smile and go “Yeah, exactly!” to yourself, the equivalent of a Like or a quiet Reblog with maybe a few positive tags in it. Maybe you have no idea what they’re talking about so you shrug and go “Eh, not interested” and move on to looking at the candy rack.

And sometimes… sometimes the answer isn’t clear cut. And those are the times where you gotta use your brains, my good bitches.

If you have a respectful disagreement, is it your place to chime in? Can you accept the consequences that might come with that (people maybe being rude to you when you stuck your head into a place that you weren’t really invited to, for instance.) Is it worth risking them to make your voice heard, here? That’s on a case-by-case basis.

And, perhaps most importantly… IS IT AN IMPORTANT ENOUGH DISAGREEMENT TO ACTUALLY TAKE SOMEONE TO TASK FOR???

Would you tell that grandma in line ahead of you that Character McCharacterface sucks, he sucks shit, and you should be ASHAMED that he’s your favorite character in Showy McShowface? Would you tell an excitable preteen buying some Skittles for a movie night with her friends you hate her ship and you don’t want to hear about it here in a public place that’s as much hers as yours?

Or would you wait until they leave and then make a snarky, quiet aside to your friend? Or wander off to another part of the equally shared public store and go “GOD I hate Character McCharacterface,” to let it out?

Basically, if the answer to your question is “I wouldn’t say this to a person’s face/treat them like this in the flesh”…

…why are you doing it on the Internet? We’re all (mostly, I love you Haikubot) people here, just separated by each other by screens and electrons. We’ve all got inner lives, complexities, and things that light us up, but which other people might find blinding. Take a minute to consider how you want to ask your neighbor to turn their lights down. To think before you hit Send. It’s hard. I fucking KNOW it’s hard. I have been learning and relearning it for 32 years now, and the emotions want you to bite like a shrieking fuckweasel half of the time.

But we gotta treat each other better, and we gotta put in a little thought and care and effort. We can’t just fly off the handle whenever we feel like it and expect the universe to shrug it off; we’re not the only ones experiencing it. We can’t let ourselves get addicted to the cheap dopamine hit of holding ourselves as morally superior to people for any and all minor reasons that come to mind; you gotta accept the fact that sometimes people just do things, no judgement or morals or reasoning attached, just human beings doing the being part, and that it’s ok.

Newton’s Third Law applies to human conversations, too; for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Stop and think for a minute about what that might be before you hit send (unless it’s just a straight up random act of kindness, that action-reaction is pleasant and warranted like 99.99% of the time.)

And if you do like being a rot-mouthed snakefucker to people online for minor disagreements specifically because they’re easier to dehumanize here and can’t turn your snout concave when you’re a cunt to them, well… I don’t know what to tell you. You’ve become the bullies you claim to hate, and you should either take a good hard look at your life or accept that people are going to shut you out of pretty much every conversation eventually on account of your slime-guzzling nature.

And, no, you don’t get to complain about that when it happens, either.

Remember the Grocery Store Test when you get up in arms about something; it’ll make your life and everyone else’s a hell of a lot better and keep us a hell of a lot closer to the caring community we all really want to be.

[an-act-of-will]

Random tidbits of advice no one's asked for about writing but I've learned over the years

In no particular order:

Don't worry if your first draft is messy. That's what editing is for.

You won't learn anything from nitpicking the same story for years. End it and then edit.

Between edits, take a break of a specified time so the work can breathe. I do one to two months. You might need only a week or three days.

Don't be afraid to experiment, in your writing or routine. Stepping out of your comfort zone is the way to grow.

Don't worry if you can't pinpoint a precise 'routine.' I don't have one and I've written for almost a decade.

Let your characters speak, but don't let them monologue. You will need to play God to wrangle them into place. If you can't get them to behave, you might need to make a new character.

Don't delete anything permanently. If you really like a scene/chapter/character/whatever else, but it doesn't work in this story, put it in a separate document for future inspiration. You'll be surprised when you can re-use it with some tweaking.

Number your drafts. Please. Just do it.

Back up your work.

Back it up again.

Save your work before you close the program if it doesn't do it automatically. If it does, save anyway, then refer to previous two pieces of advice.

Don't be afraid to try silly writing 'hacks'- the 'writing in comic sans' one works well for me.

Get someone else to read your work and see where it needs some love. Prepare specific questions for them so they know what you want from them.

If you've been stuck for quite a while, the problem is in your last sentence. Don't delete it- I put it in brackets and move on as if it doesn't exist. You can also turn the text white on a computer, or cover it in a dark highlight color on the computer, or cover it with your hand if you're writing longhand.

If you write longhand, I salute you.

If you think the problem is in the last sentence, it might be the last scene. Do the bracket trick and move along.

Momentum is key. Don't stop to research when paper clips were invented (1867, for those wondering, by a gentleman named Samuel B. Fay. They were originally used to attach tickets to fabric.). If you know you need to research something later, put the item to be researched in brackets. Something like [CHECK DATE OF INVENTION OF PAPER CLIP]

Don't feel bad if you can't think of a specific or common word. I've forgotten the word 'lunch.' It happens. Put the approximate definition in brackets like [WORD FOR MIDDAY MEAL] (As you've noticed, I use a lot of brackets).

When it's time for editing, read through it first and take notes either on the manuscript or in the document. I color code mine, then include a key because I'm forgetful. For example, green is often a continuity error, red is something that can be cut, blue is where a scene can be added. I use changing the color of the text, highlights, and adding notes in my writing document.

Don't shell out money for expensive writing tools if you're not sure if you'll use it. Free word processors and office supply store notebooks are fine.

If you're well and truly stuck, move to the physical world and write longhand, even if you write digitally the other 99.99% of the time. I've found that it almost 'unlocks' parts of my brain that are understimulated.

If you do take the physical world approach, school notebooks and index cards are your friend. The notebooks are great for rambling and figuring things out, and index cards are amazing for writing short descriptions of scenes and physically moving them to see where they fit best.

If those don't work, you can always try the rubber duck technique I've heard coders use- use a rubber duck (or a stuffed animal, or a picture, or anything else) and talk your problem out. You'll probably see the solution once you articulate it. I use a wolf stuffed animal and record on my phone. You'll feel ridiculous, but it works.

Don't be afraid to feel ridiculous. It's a hobby that takes you down rabbit holes.

When I'm done with a chapter, I often use my text-to-speech function on my computer and listen to my story. It helps me catch typos that are other words. For example, 'bed' typed as 'bet' instead.

Your word processor isn't perfect. It will miss mistakes, and it might make new ones. To, too, and two and your and you're can be tricky for them.

Research your made-up names thoroughly to make sure they don't exist as other things.

If you have an idea unrelated to your current session, make note of it. You will forget it and you know you will.

Don't forget to take care of yourself- drink water, eat, and take breaks even if you're worried you'll break your groove. The words will still be there when you get back.

[tentabulge-torturechamber]

Didn't you date a Cronus clone in highschool?

That is not specific enough :)

cus yeah, I did, but like... multiple….

Like, theres the one that went to jail before I moved that u know of, but from 14 until I stopped dating entirely are either blatant narcissists with a persona to put on or a flat out roach. I love easily controllable men <3

Like, roaches are too lazy to bother taking control, but this specific kind of narcissist* is so easy to feed and just basically direct. They just need a specific kind of attention which is super easy to use as leverage and like, sex…. 99.99% of the time. Like, their entire mind set is like ‘i did a thing for u, so gimme sex for it’ and mine is near on par with it where its like ‘oh, u will do a thing and all it costs me is sex? Fuck yeah, please and thank you’

And like, my strain of asexual isnt the “oh my god, procreation! Vomit on thought!” instead of on sight? What ever the terminology for that is xD sex isnt some highest form of intimate blarblegalge what ever the fuck. Its just a transaction like anything else. If it is for you, thats fine and dandy, youre probably living a wonderful life :) but it doesnt mean shit to me.

If someone offered sex or fried rice, I would be elated with some rice.

like, bonus points if theyre really fucking sleezy. i dont even know y i like that. but the attention with out having to guess is nice.

And I have gone on a tangent. Yes. I did. Like 4 or 5 of them because I enjoy the game. I enjoy having the control. BUT ALSO I CANT ANY MORE CUS I HAVE A KID AND RESPONCIBILITIES DX<

also cus im old and cant pull anymore

*A covert narcissist is scary though, i dont fuck with that kind, just the "pretty and stupid" ones

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Confession Time

TW: For talks of mental illness as well as a mention of suicide.

This has actually been on my mind for quite a while but I was worried about how it would be taken. However this has actually come up several times in the Azula tag now so I might as well talk about it. And before I get to the point I just want to say that I’m very much open to respectful discussion. Please don’t rip me apart over this. 

So here we go; Azula/Therapy makes me rather uncomfortable.

And it does so on a rather personal level and for several reasons. I can’t really get into my biggest reason because it’s very deeply personal and I don’t feel comfortable sharing it online. So I’m gonna start with the less personal reasons as to why I think that Azula/Therapy is kinda sketchy imo.  

I feel as though most people who ship Azula/Therapy don’t really realize how it affects real people? For one thing I feel like it makes a joke of therapy. It’s kind of hard to explain but therapy isn’t some cute and quirky thing. It’s a very serious matter and to ship Azula/Therapy like it’s the next Drapple (Draco/Apple) just doesn’t sit right with me. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I feel like most people who ship Azula/Therapy don’t particularly mean any offense. I feel like to a degree it comes from a place of innocence. But and its big but, I think that Azula/Therapy got its origins from a not so wholesome place. In fact I think that the ship was  born from a place of hate. I think that the first time I encountered Azula/Therapy it was from a very notorious Azula anti. It gained traction with the anti crowd as a means to harass and guilt people for shipping Azula with anyone. And that’s not okay. I think that somewhere down the lines, the Azula fandom kind of reclaimed it but. I am damn near certain that this started as an Azula anti thing.

It’s one thing to ship Azula/Therapy because you don’t feel like Azula is sound enough to be in a relationship. But don’t try to guilt others for disagreeing. And this kind of leads me to my main problem with Azula/Therapy.

I think that it’s kind of, sort of (dare I say) ableist? Just because someone has a mental illness doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t be loved. I’ve been kind of keeping tabs on discussions on this and I came across one anon who literally say something about how “Azula would just be a burden to her lover.” NGL that had me floored because this is the exact line of thinking that puts depressed people in a bad place. Speaking from experience, people with depression feel like burdens/like they are bringing people down. And to see this line of thinking being affirmed in fandom spaces does not help real people who are experiencing the same thing. God forbid someone shares disorder traits with Azula and they see that. 

I am 100% that there are some relationships where a person just isn’t stable enough to be in a relationship and it would be detrimental for them to have one. But for other people finding a lover can be instrumental to recovery! So by all means, this is definitely a matter of something being a case by case thing. Getting a littler personal (but without getting into too many details) I know two people who literally saved each other. And by this I mean, one was super depressed and the other was ready to kill themself. Finding each other was what rekindled their will to live again. That’s why it really bothers me to see Azula/Therapy being tossed around so carelessly. To me there’s this underlying implication that mentally ill people shouldn’t be allowed to date and get love. And that’s just not fair?  I feel like people maybe don’t think about this when posting Azula/Therapy stuff. 

“Well Azula specifically shouldn’t be in a relationship yet because she’s not in a good place for it.”

Okay fair but consider a few things; 1. some people specifically write post-redemption Azula ship fics 2. some people enjoy writing out fics where romance helps her heal. 

I have seen it come up that someone (I won’t mention names because I’m not sure if this user would want that) mention that they ship Azula/Therapy because they aren’t up to writing a fic that involves an arc of Azula getting to a place where she can have romance. Which is totally fair. But, that doesn’t mean that other people can’t. And I feel like this fandom has been trying to guilt people for shipping Azula with anyone. As mentioned, this isn’t fine. (@ mentioned user, feel free to reply). 

Another thing that I saw was an anon saying that being anti Azula/Therapy is aro/acephobic. I’m going to put my foot down as someone who has been very openly aro/ace and say, don’t try to speak for all of us. Yes romance isn’t the solution for everyone because romance isn’t what everyone is looking for. And I absolutely agree with this. However Azula is a fictional character and not everyone headcanons her as aro/ace. For some people, writing Azula in a romance as part of the healing process is what makes them happy. It doesn’t make them aro/acephobic. 

One more thing that I saw come up regarding Azula specifically. And I think that they made a wonderful point; Azula’s breakdown (as I interpreted it) came from a lack of love. Azula craved genuine affection whether she realized it or not. So I would argue that Azula would be one of those people who could strongly benefit from being in a relationship as part of the healing processes. By all means, make therapy a part of that healing process! She can be in a relationship and she can still go to therapy. She can use that therapy to help her keep that relationship healthy. I guess what I’m trying to say is I could get on board with Azula/*Character*/Therapy as an OT3. 99.99% sure that this is really common in real life. Actually 100% sure because (again without sharing too much personal info) I have seen a rather unstable person get into a relationship and use therapy to help them make sure that said relationship stays healthy. 

A person doesn’t have to be 100% mentally sound to be in a relationship. And having a mental illness while  being in a relationship doesn’t automatically make it a toxic or dangerous relationship on principal. I think that (depending on the disorder) some long discussions need to be had and some boundaries need to be put in place. Speaking from experience, I have heard someone say something akin to, “alright, I have *disorder* if I ever do *bad habit* then take these steps and don’t let me push you around...” Things like that. 

TL;DR: I feel like Azula/Therapy (even if it comes from a well meaning place) can be disheartening for people who relate to Azula & people who already feel like a burden in their real life relationships. Ship Azula/Therapy if you want and if it makes you comfortable but don’t try to shame people for shipping her with other characters. Also be weary of people who ship Azula/Therapy  as a means to belittle others.

I think that’s it for now.  If I think of anything else, I’ll add it. I’ll just end by saying that I don’t mean this to be antagonistic or yell at anyone but to offer a new POV.

[bitchiaintanonymous]

Here we are, back at it again by popular demand.... Okay, so no one actually asked for this, but it’s here so get ready.

Oh also, just so you know, this is sadder than the last one.... like a lot sadder.

But hey, go ahead and read on, I’m like, 99.99% sure you won’t regret it. Enjoy, I guess.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Alcohol/Alcoholism, Mild Description of Gore, Mentions of a Car Accident, Harsh Language.

Hold Me, Set Me Free

It takes ten seconds for a life to be ruined.

It took one second for Race to leave his house. It took one second for him to decide to cross the street. It took one second for him to fall. It took five seconds for him to get back up. It took one second for the driver to look at his phone.

It took ten seconds total for the car to hit him.

It took longer for Jack to find out.

The past few hours seemed like a blur to him. He remembers leaving the trial, hugging Crutchie and watching him go with Snyder. Then getting a phone call from the very same man not even a few hours later. After that, he remembers feeling hopeless. So incredibly hopeless. A feeling, strong enough, that it made him run to a bar, successfully breaking his two year sobriety. Although after that, his memory gets a little… flashy.

There are things he knows for sure. Race called him… he didn’t answer. Race left a voicemail…several actually. They ranged from as old as only half an hour after Jack got to the bar, to as recent as the moment everything changed.

After that Jack got another call, one that he answered.

It was a hospital.

He should have answered Race’s call.

It’s a thought that repeated in Jack’s head while waiting for his baby brother to get out of surgery. He should have answered the call, he should have called him back.

He should have done something.

Instead he decided to make, arguably, one of the worst decisions he could have made. He drank. Two suffocating years of sobriety and he threw it all away just because someone’s words got to his head. He knew he shouldn’t have listened to Snyder, but after how the last trial went, he knew how close Snyder was to gaining full custody. No matter how hard Jack tried, Snyder had one thing Jack never seemed to have enough of. Money. He could see the jury was siding with him, and now Snyder was taking away one of the most important people to Jack. And he wasn’t even blinking an eye about it. Now the only thing Jack was sure of, is that all he has is Race.

... All he had.

But Race got taken too. Taken by Liam. Truthfully, Jack can’t even remember the last time he saw Race properly. They used to see each other everyday, but things had changed. Now they only seemed to communicate through phone calls. Yet, even then, Race seemed different. His tone was never as happy as it used to be.

And God, Jack should have done something.

“How’re you holding up sugar?”

Jack recognized the person interrupting his thoughts as Miss Medda Larkin, the head nurse in the New York Presbyterian Hospital, and the person who constantly checked in on him for the past few hours.

Jack shot out of his seat hearing her voice, “Is he out? Is he okay?” It seemed that no matter how much Jack tried to appear strong, the shake in his voice gave him away.

Medda seemed to have noticed that as her look of pity intensified. Any hope Jack might have had in that moment left when she shook her head sadly. “Sorry sugar, we’re not sure when he’ll be stable enough to be put in a room. Only time, and our best doctors, can tell that dear”

Jack sighed and took his seat again. He was ready to wait days if that’s what it took for Race to be okay. Hell, he was ready to wait years.

“However… we do have someone here looking for you. A young red headed woman.”

Katherine.

Jack subconsciously sat up at that. He didn’t know why Katherine had come, but truthfully, he didn’t want to question it. “Yeah I know her, she was my girlfriend… not too sure what she’s doing here though.” Jack saw that Medda looked like she was gonna send her away and elaborated, “We left on good terms. She can come in.”

Medda looked skeptical leaving the small waiting room, but a few seconds later Katherine walked in.

Jack had never really gotten over Katherine. He thought about her a lot. More than you should think about someone who broke up with you, but he couldn’t help it. Katherine was... everything. Feisty and witty, intelligent, drop dead gorgeous, and the more Jack thinks about it, the more he understands why she left.

Seeing her again was like everything Jack needed, and everything he was trying to avoid.

She looked frantic coming in, different than Jack had remembered her. “Jack! Hey... how’s Tony?”

If it were any other time Jack might have teased her about not being happy to see him, but all Jack could think about was Race. “He's... hanging in there. The doctors don’t know when he’ll be stable enough to come out.... He was taken a while ago.” He assumed. Jack doesn’t know how long he had been blankly staring at the wall in front of him, and he wasn’t about to think too hard about it.

Katherine just looked at him with concern. “And how are you?”

Stressed, angry, concerned, worried, frustrated, terrified.

“I’m fine.” he replied.

She looked like she was about to argue, but he cut her off before she could.

“I’ll be happy when Race is happy” And it was true, Jack would not really be fine until Race was safe.

She pursed her lips like she did when she was getting frustrated. “No one is asking you to be happy Jack. Just asking that you’re okay.”

Jack was getting frustrated now too. “I’ll be okay, when Race is okay.” His tone suggested that that was the end of the conversation.

For a second, it looked like she might drop the

subject, but then, suddenly, she scrunched up her face. “Is that… were you drinking Jack?”

Jack stared at her for a few seconds then let out a humorous laugh, “Really? You really want to do this, right now?” Jack bit out harshly.

Katherine didn’t flinch at Jack’s tone. If anything, she seemed to get more aggressive. “Yes Jack, really. You have a problem. We broke up what, three years ago, and you’re still going on with this bullshit?”

It hurt Jack that she thought he hadn’t changed, but at that moment Jack didn’t want to be hurt anymore. He focused on the anger. “One, you don’t get to do that. You broke up with me, you don’t get to tell me how to live my life. And not that I need to tell you, but if it’ll get you off my back, I was two years sober until tonight happened.”

A small part of Jack took pleasure seeing Kath speechless. Another part felt guilty for making her feel bad. He wasn’t sure which side won control.

Katherine looked like she had more to say, but thankfully, didn’t push the subject further. Instead, she surprised Jack. “You’re right…. I don’t have any right to tell you what decisions to make. And, if it counts, for anything at all… you seem like you really did change. I didn’t mean to hurt you… I’m sorry.”

Jack didn’t respond, although he knew Katherine didn’t mind. Even after three years, Jack could still tell when she got lost in her mind.

A few seconds of silence passed before Jack felt a hand on his. He froze before looking over at Katherine who looked like she was mentally telling him to accept the comfort. Jack didn’t know what to think. It baffled him that she held his hand like it was perfectly natural. Although… In a way, Jack supposed it was. Natural, just uncommon. Very uncommon.

He accepted the comfort.

A few minutes pass with them sitting in silence before a question surfaced in Jack’s mind. “Kath,” to her hum of acknowledgement he looked up from the ground “how did you know Race was hurt? I thought… after we broke up you took your name off his emergency contacts.” When Jack looked to Katherine he saw a guilty look displayed across her face.

“I did,” She spoke the words carefully, as if she were breaking bad news to someone “but that’s not how I knew… Jack… have you watched the news lately?” Jack didn’t say anything, just shook his head and motioned for her to continue. “What happened to Tony is there… All of it.”

Before he could think, Jack grabbed the television remote from the small table in front of them, and turned on the news channel. Katherine tried to protest and grab the remote, but Jack was already standing up out of reach, turning up the volume.

“-An accident involving 22 year old Anthony Higgins, who got hit by a car at the Fort Washington Avenue and West 176th Street intersection. Anthony appeared to trip and fall in the middle of the intersection, and that combined with the driver, who was said to be on his mobile device, resulted in this terrible accident.” Jack couldn’t focus. For a second he thought the television was off, but then he saw a video on the device playing. It showed police cars lined up around the crime scene, and Race being loaded into an ambulance. He looked terrible. His face was covered in blood and even through the sheet that was covering him, Jack could his right arm and leg busted. He could vaguely hear Katherine trying to get his attention, but he ignored her in favour of listening to the television once more.

“The young adult is said to be getting medical treatment at a nearby hospital, but the future of Anthony seems to be unknown-”

This time the television really did turn off, and suddenly Katherine’s face was in front of him, her hands on the sides of his face and her eyes filled with concern.

“Jack? Jack, c’mon snap out of it…. God I knew I shouldn’t have told you about that crap… Jack come on, you’re okay, Tony’s okay, he’s gonna get out of surgery soon and everything is going to be fine”

“You don’t know that.” The words came out a lot harsher than he meant them to, but Katherine didn’t seem fazed.

“I do. He’s gonna make it Jack. I know he is. What they were saying on there was-”

“The truth, wasn’t it? We don’t know what’s gonna happen to him… We don’t know if he’ll live or…”

“Hey. Don’t think like that. If there’s anything I know, it’s that Race is a fighter. And he’s a good one too.... He’s gonna make it Jack.” Her tone left no room for argument and she said it with so much certainty, Jack almost believed her.

“A fighter...” She had no idea how true that was.

“Well I wouldn’t say that. More like... a mouse you know? In a game of Tom and Jerry.”

Jack stopped at that voice. For a second he thought he was imagining it, but when he looked over Katherine’s red curls at that unmistakable smirk, he saw red.

He was sure he blacked out, or he skipped a period in time, because one second he was looking at the face of his brother's abuser, and the next he was being pulled off of a bloodied Liam. Jack didn’t truly know if he was the one that caused all that blood, but he sure as hell hoped he was. And judging by the bruising on his knuckles, he had a pretty good chance.

Before he could say anything about it though, he remembered the situation at hand. Race got hit by a car, because he was running from his house, and he was running, because of Liam. All at once Jack realized he felt angry again. Murderous.

And he loved it.

He also realized that security guards were holding him by his arms to stop him from getting to Liam.

Jack tried to pull his arms out of their grip, but they were prepared and just held his arms tighter. He heard a gruff voice speak behind him, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you boy.”

Jack didn’t have time to decide if that was a challenge or a threat because not long after, Liam was talking.

“You’re fucking crazy man! Do just fucking attacked people for no reason? I didn’t even do anything to you.”

Even with the serious situation at hand, Jack let out a laugh. A crazy, psychopathic laugh. “Didn’t do anything?! Didn’t do anything my ass.” Faintly, Jack could hear Katherine trying to calm him down, but he wasn’t going to stop. Not until Liam was either dead on the ground, or in a hospital room himself. “You hurt my brother. You’re the reason he’s not here by my side but rather in surgery getting treated because he got hit by a fucking car!”

It was Liam's turn to look at Jack in humorous disbelief. “Me?! He went out in the middle of the night on his own. That’s not my fault.”

Jack was about to fight him back on it but Liam put on a smug smirk and cut him off before he could even open his mouth. “Besides, last I heard, he called you... and you didn’t answer. Maybe that’s what got him so distracted before he got hit. I think, if we should blame anyone here, it should be you.”

He knows. Jack knows it’s his fault, he’s been telling himself that since he got the call... but at that moment, he can’t help but think otherwise.

Seeing Liam at the hospital, acting like the douchebag Jack always knew he was... Jack’s not so sure it’s his fault at all.

“He was only outside calling me because he was running away from you… So that pegs the question Liam.” He spit the name out like venom, and smiled at his next words. “Why was he running from you?”

Before Liam could give some bullshit excuse though, Jack heard another voice enter the room.

“Jack, can I talk to you? It's about Anthony.”

As much as he wanted to expose Liam for the terrible person he was, Jack knew he had to go with Medda. Race was his first priority.

Without taking his eyes off Liam, he answered, “Yeah, of course.” Jack didn’t stop glaring until the door closed behind him.

After it did, Jack finally turned to face Medda. Upon seeing her troubled expression he immediately started asking about Race. “Is something wrong? Is he finally getting out?”

Meddas face fell even more than it already was. She spoke her next words carefully. “Jack… sweetie, he… he didn’t make it.”

For a second, everything around Jack stopped.

For a second, he forgot all about Liam, and Katherine, and Snyder. He forgot about the custody battle, he forgot about the bar, he forgot about everything. For a second his mind was quiet.

And then that second passed.

Jack didn’t know what was happening around him. If he focused really hard he could make out a floor underneath him and hands on his arms, a voice talking to him, and a head of red hair. But realistically, he didn’t have the energy to focus on that. Medda’s words played on a loop on his mind.

“he didn’t make it.”

It takes ten seconds to take a life.

It took four words to ruin Jack’s.

... Sorry. Yeah, that was... something. Anyways, I hope you liked it, I know there’s a lot left hanging in the air, and I’m planning to make another fic related to this at some point in the near future. But if you want to see anything specific, just send an ask and I’ll see what I can do.

[gabbysparadise]

MTV Unplugged: Why I Can’t Cry When BTS Performs

Every time I see BTS perform I, 99.99 percent of the time I have thoughts running through my head. Some are more prominent than others but they mostly revolve around me contemplating everything I have done that has brought me to this moment in time. All of the decisions that I have made that made it possible foe mw to witness this in real time. The other .01 percent it’s just head empty. Head empty all of the time. We all need that one thing. The one thing in our lives that will continue to ground even when all else seems impossible. These things can change just as we all change has human beings but it doesn’t diminish the importance that they have had on our lives. At the young age of twenty two years old I’m pretty happy to say that I’ve found that and I don’t think it’s going to change for a really long time.

When I heard that BTS was going to be featured in the MTV Unplugged series I had expectations. I always have expectations and to this day I can’t figure out why. I can’t justify continuing to have all of these expectations when they continue to demolish them every time they step on a stage. At times It’s something so beautiful that you don’t want to take your eyes off of it because god forbid that you loose just one second and at others it evicts such a a visceral pain that you can barley look. That’s what BTS does that’s what they continue to do even after almost eight years of performing on stages far and wide.

Fifteen minutes before the performance started I headed to my favorite vice of the moment: Twitter.com. Everyone has differing opinions on twitter and I guess there’s something special about that bird app that makes people want to voice them all of the time, for worse or better, I’m not too sure yet. But when BTS is about to take the stage, you can feel the palpable excitement emanating from from everyone waiting. There is nothing quite like the excitement that is shared between like minded individuals. Strangers of all different backgrounds who have come together all on the basis of their love for this one thing.

There are so many different things that simultaneously happen on twitter and honestly it’s pretty hard to explain if you’re not there. But when it comes to BTS, the general consensus is tears. Don’t get me wrong I’m pretty sure that everyone is shaking their ass to UGH! when the time comes but when Spring Day, Mikrokosmos and most recently their iconic cover of Coldplay’s Fix You comes on crying seems to be one of the only things that Army twitter can agree on.

I remember feeling like an anomaly for the longest time. I don’t cry when BTS performs. This to me, seemed like the antithesis to who I am as a person. I cried at Moana. I, still to this day, refuse to watch COCO because I know I will be emotionally scarred for the rest of my life. I have playlists dedicated to crying in the rain. I put Blue and Grey on repeat and just lay in bed crying (like the main character that I am), but when it comes to BTS performing I don’t shed a tear. I think this bothered me for a while not that I admitted it to myself, but I often thought am I missing something? There’s no one in their right mind who wouldn’t cry like a new born baby at the opening strings of fix you right? Right?

It bothered me until I stared to notice something. It bothered me until I began to take note of the ache in jaw that was caused by smiling like a mad woman throughout the entire performance. The that forms near my eyes when I’m screaming at the top of my lungs and my neighbors have to ask if I’m fine. Just seeing them creates such a large serotonin boost within my self that can barely be contained. I have to choice but to let it flow to every part of my body that it can, from the top of my head all the way down to the soles of my feet. I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

A lot of people won’t understand this because it’s just one of those things. If you know then you know. Your ‘thing’ doesn’t have to be BTS like mine is. But even if you cry or don’t I hope it can bring to you the same amount of joy that BTS has brought to me, if only for a little while.

[noonmutter]

on venting

I touched on this a little bit in an earlier post, but I have trouble talking about myself. At all. Beyond basic facts, like “my hair is brown and there’s a white streak” or “I draw or at least I used to.” I can even talk about my shitsack of a father because the things he did are also facts. I didn’t misremember them or not understand them or see them in a bad light or have to form an opinion of what happened, so I’m okay talking about them.

What I’m feeling, whether I’m okay... those are harder to talk about. Because they’re not fact, they’re not something I can prove. They’re something I have to hope people will believe. And also care about. And not feel like I’m demanding validation, or sympathy, or help, or whatever. Everybody just needs to talk sometimes, not even to accomplish anything, just... talk about the shit that’s shitting up life at the moment. I’m not special there. Me too.

But I’m really, really bad at that. Because I always feel like no matter how I say it, no matter what terms I couch it in, no matter how I might try to insist that it’s nothing but something I need to say so I’m not chewing on it anymore, expressing my feelings and my fears and my sadness and whatever else sounds like a call to action. Like I’m trying to get something from whoever I’m talking to by saying I’m not okay.

But I’m not trying to get anything out of it. I just want to be able to say “I’m not okay” without, as I’m doing just because I typed the fucking phrase, crying at my desk. I’m not okay. I hate that I’m not okay. I wish that saying I’m not okay didn’t 99.99% of the time actively contribute to my not-okayness. And it’s even worse because it comes and goes.

Sometimes I can act like I’m okay, or sometimes even be okay if I try hard enough. For a while. Like most of the time I can just be somebody else who’s not okay and it’s fine because that’s a different kind of not-okay, and maybe that’s wierd but it’s a healthier coping mechanism than wallowing. Fake it till you make it or something. Maybe. I don’t know.

Mostly I just feel like I’m lying to my friends when I don’t tell them these things. And I really don’t want to be lying to people I care about. Maybe I think I’m being a good friend by not being upsetting. This is something I don’t even realize I’m doing, most of the time, so for all I know I just...do it. Maybe I internalized handling my shit myself, I don’t know. God knows I’ve never been good at that though.

I don’t have a solution. I know what depression is. I know I have it. I know there are ways to attack it. That’s not why I wrote this.

I don’t have any requests from anyone. I just need to say it, have it be said. Maybe doing this will make it easier to push it back and feel normal again. I don’t know if it will or not. I just needed to vent, and at least if I put it out into the ether I don’t feel quite as much like I’m putting it on somebody specific to fix. This is not me asking people to help me, or coddle me, or feel sorry for me. I never want people to feel obligated toward me.

[nonsensicalobsessions]

A Symphony without Strings, Chapter 5

Today’s musical program: Today I am going to change things up a bit. I will list the musical selections as they correspond to each scene, as everyone’s reading speeds vary and of course there is never any guarantee a reader can finish a chapter in one sitting (especially considering the size of my chapters. I make no apologies.). Therefore, should you be interested in hearing the piece that has been selected for each section, simply play it on a loop/repeat until the next piece is indicated. If you find this intrusive, I do apologize...but for this chapter, it is completely necessary that the corresponding scene have the corresponding music.

Section the first:

https://youtu.be/GqvF8DXT0Z0 or conversely, https://open.spotify.com/track/5rzzZvgdCbktKTuxaeAT5E?si=wDpq36b6Q9-6etf36GI6uA

Trigger warning: Leukemia

                                            *** *** *** ***

They were staying in a new place now, and it was so cool.

Liam had come back from some really neat moo-see-ums with Aiden, to find Mr. Hidd’l’son there, with another man, who didn’t look very happy. Mr. Hidd’l’son said he needed to take a look at the inside of his mouth with a swab, which was funny, because swabs were usually meant for ears, but both Aiden and Clara said it was okay. And it didn’t hurt. When Aiden wanted to know why he had to clean the inside of his cheek with a swab (“I brushed my teeth this morning, Aiden saw me,”) Aiden just smiled and shrugged.

“Gotta do weird things sometimes, Dude,” he teased. “Remember that time we had to take your picture in the post office?”

Yeah, that had been weird, Liam reflected. 

Mama was sleeping when all of this happened. Mama was doing that a lot, it seemed. 

But the new place had a piano, a real one, not just a keyboard. When Mama saw that, she just looked at Mr. Hidd’l’son and said, “Really, Thomas?” Liam thought her voice sounded mad, but Liam could see she was trying hard not to smile...like the time Aiden made his voice really high and squeaky by playing with some balloons.

Mr. Hidd’l’son just looked at Liam and winked. “It was that or drums, Merry. I thought you would prefer the piano, but if I was wrong, I can always...”

“No, no, the piano is fine,” Mama had laughed. Liam was a little disappointed. Mr. Hidd’l’son stage whispered into Liam’s ear, “Don’t despair...there’s always next time.”

The prospect alone made Liam’s heart beat faster! Just like a real set of drums!

Mr. Hidd’l’son had even given Liam a bear and some new books to go with his new room. Mama had given Mr. Hidd’l’son a look when she found that out, and for such a tall man, he looked like Liam did when he got in trouble! He looked down at his feet, and sort of shuffled them around and mumbled, “It’s just to go with his new room, is all.”

Mama just closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “I might as well ask the sun not to rise in the east...” she sighed. “Liam, please thank Mr. Hiddleston.”

Liam was most happy to do so, which included a very enthusiastic hug, and extracting the promise of having the books read to him at bedtime. Mr. Hidd’l’son seemed just as pleased with his side of the bargain, Liam thought.

Soon after, Liam overheard Mr. Hidd’l’son tell Mama that “The paternal inclusion between Liam and Thomas Sharpe is 99.99%...there is no question of the match.” This made Liam very excited, and he demanded know where was this match, and who was Thomas Sharpe? Mama scolded him for listening at closed doors, which was very naughty, and sent him to time out.

Liam knew better than to ask again, but no one ever told him anything more about the match, or Tom Sharpe. He wondered if he would be a new playmate. It got lonely, being the only little boy sometimes.

Later that day, Mama told him he didn’t have to call Mr. Hidd’l’son “Mr. Hidd’l’son” anymore, but he could call him “Mr. Tom,” instead.

This was good, as Mr. Tom was living with them now, and he was a lot of fun. It turned out Mr. Tom did know how to play some instruments, after all. He could play the piano, and the guitar. He brought his own! Mama was very surprised.

“All this time, Tom, and you never told me...?” 

Liam looked carefully at Mama. She sounded very sad, like she was about to cry.

Mr. Tom must have thought so as well, because he quickly sat next to her and explained, “Darling, telling you what little I could do would be like a preschooler showing their finger painting to Monet. My ego found it easier to profess ignorance.”

Mama looked even more sad and answered, “Was I that arrogant? Or is your ego that big of an idiot?”

Mr. Tom gave her a hug and said, “Never the former, and always the latter, sweetheart. Can’t you see where I would have been embarrassed?”

“You shouldn’t have been.”

“But I was.” He made Liam giggle when he kissed Mama’s nose. Even Mama laughed a little.

That night, Mama and Aidan played and played for Liam and Mr. Tom, and then Aidan stopped, saying Mama had gotten over his head. (“That means your mother is playing pieces he doesn’t know yet,” Mr. Tom explained quietly to Liam. Aidan seemed really happy with the way Mr. Tom said that, but added, “Mr. Tom is being kind. I’ll never be the musician your mother is.”)

Liam frowned at Aidan. “Not if you don’t practice,” he scolded, and all the adults laughed.

Mama played fun songs and slow songs, pieces that made you want to dance, and pieces that made Mr. Tom sit very still, and hold Liam close.

Tom was surprised at how quickly Liam was willing, even wanting, to climb into his lap. It began the first night in the new suite, when Tom was settling Liam down for his new books before bed. At first he was a tiny bit skeptical, even as he felt his heart melting. Tom did not see if this was Liam’s usual posture for story time, and he was unsure if Liam was becoming overly excited. Tom knew full well what little boys were capable of in the interests of delaying bedtime! But when the books were closed, Liam very obediently crawled into bed and laid down. All Tom could surmise was for some reason, the child—his child—wanted to be close to him. 

He was used to channeling emotions. He did it for a living, he studied it, he practiced long hours perfecting his craft, mining within himself whatever feelings would best suit the character he was bringing to life. 

Nothing had ever prepared him for the feeling of having his son throw his arms around his knees in a genuinely affectionate, excited hug...it was something he had realized it was something he greatly desired, but long-despaired of, it made his heart swell in ways he, even with all of his poetry and Shakespeare and quotations, could not adequately describe. He saw Merry watch his interactions with Liam, and saw how each softened her face that was so tense with pain and weariness, and brought out the smile he had missed.

It was incredibly difficult for him to restrain himself and not be as openly affectionate with Liam as he craved, for him to always maintain a certain distance as would be proper. Liam only knew his as his mother’s friend. He was not family.

And yet...

Tonight, as Merry played, Liam was in his lap once more, completely voluntarily. In fact, he made it clear by the way he wiggled and squirmed he did merely wish to sit in Tom’s lap. 

He wanted to be held.

Tom’s throat tightened as he carefully wrapped his arms around Liam, sometimes the two of them laughing and clapping hands when Merry and Aidan made their fingers fly with bright, sprightly tunes. He held Liam close to his chest when he leaned close to speak softly in Liam’s ear at times, to explain Aidan’s words, or even to get the over-excited boy to settle down a bit.

But when Merry began to play gentler tunes, some of which Tom remembered her learning or playing when they were together, he couldn’t help but hold Liam close to his heart, and Liam responded in kind by resting his small head against Tom’s chest, snuggling into his embrace, listening quietly and respectfully to his mother weaving magic with strings, talent, and the love she had for all in the room as well as the music. 

Merry and Tom would curl around each other, tracing an ear, a jaw, a collarbone in the dark, sharing their souls as they had just shared their bodies. 

They found they both had a deep love for The Lord of the Rings trilogy. While they both were rabid fans of the films, Tom wasn’t surprised that Merry was also deeply in love with the soundtracks as well.

“Let me guess,” he teased her. “You can play the entire trilogy’s soundtrack. On all three instruments.”

“Not all of it,” she muttered, ducking her head into his shoulder.

He burst into exuberant laughter. “Of course. My Mozart can play anything!” He gently tickled her sides, making her giggle.

She squirmed away from his fingers, her hair spilling over her back and bare breasts. Tom’s silly mood evaporated. In the dim light, he could see her form outlined in the barest silver. The moonlight and streetlights were throwing brighter beams for bouncing off the snowbanks that were piling up outside her bedroom window.

“My God, you are so beautiful,” he sighed.

“Tom—“

“Don’t. Don’t say anything. I can see you, Merry, glistening with moondust and starshine .”

She sighed, the sound warm and content. “My Tom. Ever the poet.” She leaned over and kissed his lips softly, then slipped out of bed.

“Sweetheart? Where are you going?”

“Such a bard should have music,” she replied easily, and her saw her figure pick up her cello, and begin bowing soft tunes from the movie trilogy they had just discussed. Of course she started with the well known “Concerning Hobbits,” much to Tom’s delight. He was utterly entranced, as she both bowed and even plucked the strings for more staccato sounds as she pleased.

“Darling, how on earth are you doing this in the dark,” he marveled.

“Do you need to shower with the lights on? Of course you don’t. You know where all your parts are,” she replied, teasing. “It’s just the same. I know where the music is. I just have to go and release it.”

Tom swung his legs over the side of the bed as she segued into an ethereal interpretation of “Evenstar.” Tom grew pensive as he reflected on the saga of Aragorn and Arwen.

“He was not worthy of her devotion,” he mused aloud.

“Who is to make that judgment,” countered Merry, as she slid into the iconic “May It Be.” Her voice sounded slightly impatient. “Her father? Aragorn? Why can’t she be the one to make that decision?”

Tom stood, and slid behind her. “You are correct, my lady. I yield.” He gently and carefully placed his hands on her bare shoulders, not wishing to impede her playing. He luxuriated in feeling her muscles stretch and contract as she continued to play, tenderly bringing his palms down her back as she began playing “In Dreams.”

Tom did not want to hear her play that piece...did not want to be reminded that there would be a day when he would only see her in his dreams. He deliberately allowed his hands to become more bold, in an attempt to distract her. As her bowing continued, so did his caressing, until she said, her voice showing signs of strain, “You are making this quite...difficult, Tom,” and her voice caught as one adventurous hand cupped her breast and captured her nipple.

“Oh, sweetling,” he growled in his throat, “I thought you’d never catch my hints. This poet longs for his musician. Come back to bed.”

Merry had never, in her entire life, been so careless with her beloved instrument as she was at that moment when she all but dropped it so she could spin and press herself against Tom’s body to sear his lips with a heated kiss. All the fervor and passion that had been flowing through her fingertips now poured through her kisses and Tom knew now he had again unleashed a fire that was going to consume him fully.

Merry looked at him as she graced him with her slow smile he considered his own and winked, then played “Concerning Hobbits” followed once more by “In Dreams.”

Tom felt as though his heart might burst. He didn’t think he was meant to be this happy.

Clara told Mama that she had to stop for the night, and Mama didn’t argue, just set her bow and Kermit down. Mr. Tom whispered into Liam’s ear, “Slide down, and let me play for your Mama. She looks so tired.” Liam nodded seriously, and moved to the side of the sofa while Tom picked up his guitar. Liam watched as Mr. Tom played quietly until Mama fell asleep in her chair, and Mr. Tom then carried her to bed. Mr. Tom was so careful, so gentle, that Mama didn’t even wake up.

Later that night, Liam heard Aidan and Mr. Tom talking. He couldn’t tell what they were saying, but he liked hearing their voices. Mr. Tom’s voice was low, and quiet, or else warm and laughing. He heard it in Mama’s bedroom at night, when Mama was awake and Liam got up to go to the bathroom. He made Mama laugh. Liam liked hearing Mama laugh, too. She hadn’t laughed so much in a long time.

One day, Mr. Tom took Liam out all by themselves. Mr. Tom was wearing a very weird hat, which was funny, but it was part of a game. Mr. Tom explained it to him. They just went for a walk to a park, and then they flew a kite, and then just laid on their backs and pointed out cloud shapes. Liam had such a wonderful time, it made his heart very happy. Aidan made him happy too, but this was different. It was hard to describe. Maybe it was the way Mr. Tom looked at him, like he was the only little boy in the world. Maybe it was the careful way he held his hand. It was hard to say. Mr. Tom liked ice cream, but didn’t spoil him, he checked with Mama and Aidan first before they had some coming back from the park. Mr. Tom was always careful to check about things like that.

But when Liam’s legs got tired, Mr. Tom didn’t think twice about picking Liam up and carrying him on his shoulders all the way back. And when Liam fell asleep, his head resting on top of Mr. Tom’s, and Mr. Tom’s hands carefully holding his back to keep him steady...Mr. Tom thought it was the best day ever.

                                                  *** *** *** ***

Section the second: https://youtu.be/SjwnWWNNeFg, or conversely, https://open.spotify.com/track/4WlxkezQytVXHqtPqq8bHe?si=rs-vTkpLSFyoZRfZkFRPQw If you have been paying attention to music selections as named in the story, you will see where this piece is significant. This piece can be looped until the end of the chapter.

Mama was leaning against her headboard, propped up with a multitude of pillows when Liam came in, being led by Aiden. He wasn’t surprised to see Mr. Hidd’l’son...oops, Mr. Tom, sitting besides her. Mr. Tom spent most of all day with his Mama these days, and most of all night, too.

Aiden climbed up and cuddled next to her, peering closely at her face. “Mama, you don’t look like you’re feeling so well today,” he fretted. “I can give you some hugs, if that will help.”

“I’m not, Liam,” she answered honestly. Liam didn’t notice how faint her voice was, but he did notice the firmness of her resolution. This was her “Mama” voice at its strongest, her “You need to pay attention” voice. Volume didn’t matter. Tone meant everything. Any musician knew that.

“Liam, I would dearly love those hugs, but right now, I need you to listen to me, and do as I ask. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Mama.” He sat up straight, even as he took her proffered hand, and felt Aiden slip behind  him to take him in his lap so he wouldn’t fall off the side of the bed. Mr. Tom took his other hand. Liam liked that. It was like a triangle. Liam liked triangles. They were fun to play. He wanted to say comment on it, but instinctively knew this was not the time. Mr. Tom was sitting right next to Mama, in a chair. 

“Tell Mr. Tom the story I told you about your Papa.” Mama’s voice was still firm, but so tired. Mama should nap.

“Mama said that she and Papa loved each other very much, but Papa had to move away from Mama because he worked...works so hard. And when he moved, they lost each other, I mean, they couldn’t find each other again, because sometimes people move around so much with their jobs. It didn’t mean they stopped loving each other though...they just got lost. Which is one reason why it’s so important to hold on to grownup’s hands when you are out of the house.” He turned to Tom and added, “Mama didn’t tell me that part, I just figured it out all on my own.”

Mr. Tom was looking at him very strangely, as though he was going to cry, but he said, “You are very smart, Liam, to have figured that out. You are a very intelligent young man.”

“So when it was time for me to be born, Mama couldn’t find Papa to tell him. Aiden was there, though, and he loves me, and while it’s not the same because he’s not my Papa, he is here and always takes care of me just like Papa would, and someday, Mama is going to find Papa, and tell him all about me, and Papa is going to be so happy. Because Papa loves me, even though he doesn’t know it yet.” 

“Just so, Liam...now, tell Mr. Tom your real name.”

“You mean, the one you use when I’m in big trouble?”

Mr. Tom choked on something that sounded like a laugh as Mama sighed, “Yes, Liam, that one.”

“William Thomas Skye.”

Mama turned to Mr. Tom and asked softly, “Tom, would you please tell Liam your full name?”

Mr. Tom squeezed Liam’s hand softly and said, “Liam, my full name..the name my mother, and coincidentally, your mother, uses when I’m in big trouble, is Thomas William Hiddleston.”

“Oh wow,” Liam marveled. “That’s almost like...” He stopped.

He gets it, thought all the adults in the room. Mama and Mr. Tom held Liam’s hand tightly. Aiden wrapped his arms around Liam that much closer.

“Mr. Tom...Are you...are you my Papa?”

“Yes, Liam. Your Mama found me at last. And I love you with all my heart,” Tom answered immediately, struggling with the tears that wanted to escape from his eyes that were so similar to his son’s, but only in shape...because they were still the color of his mother’s eyes, the color of a summer sky.

Liam looked at his mother, who smiled and nodded. “Liam, it’s true. Mr. Tom is your Papa. Would you...”

She didn’t have to say anything more, because Liam launched himself from Aiden’s arms into Tom’s waiting embrace, sobbing. “Papa, I’m so glad, so glad it’s you, I missed you, I missed you so much...”

Tom wrapped his arms around his son at last, burying his face and his tears in his hair. “I’m so glad, too, Liam. I didn’t know it, but I was missing you all this time. But I’m here now, and you will never have to miss me again, I promise.”

“You won’t get lost again?”

Merry’s eyes closed. This was her fault, and as soon as she could, she would own it, would take all the responsibility. “William Thomas Skye, it wasn’t Papa’s fault. You need to know this. Listen to me, son, you cannot blame your father, at all...”

Both father and son looked up at Merry, and saw she was weeping, as well. Aiden went to leave the room to allow the little family some privacy, but both Tom and Merry would not allow it, Merry by desperately grasping Aiden’s hand, her face begging him not to leave, and Tom by physically blocking Aiden with his long crossed legs even as he held Liam against his chest.

Aiden looked about, unsure what to do or say, but Liam’s quavering, “Aiden, now that we found Papa, you’re not going to leave, are you?” made his question about his position in the family puzzle snap into place as both Merry and Tom cried out, “No!”

Merry was shaking her head, replying passionately, “No, never, Liam, no, son, no...” and Tom was murmuring, “Liam, that’s not what this is about,” and Aiden crouched down and wiped Liam’s tears with the pad of his thumb, hoarsely answering, “Leave you, Liam? I’d like to see anyone try to make me.”

It ended in a tight, loving, much-delayed but heartfelt group hug that was only broke by Liam finally complaining, “I’m getting squished..!”

“If it’s all the same to you, Liam, I think I will take that hug now,” Merry laughed, but then Liam replied practically:

“Okay Mama, but you need to get Ms. Clara to help you first, because your nose is starting to bleed again.”

Tom looked at Merry in shock, and then quickly handed Liam to Aiden, who took him and ran off calling for Clara, because the trickle became a gush.

                                                 *** *** *** ***

The bleed was bad.

Tom had never seen anything like this before, and it was hard for him to understand. This wasn’t special effects, there wasn’t anyone who was going to call “Cut!” 

It wouldn’t stop, and he could tell Clara was alarmed. Even as Tom held Merry and whispered words of support and comfort in her ear, he could tell Merry had slipped into semi-consciousness, and Clara was beginning to lose her composure. 

“Tom, it’s no good,” she said at last, desperation seeping into her voice. “I have to get her to a hospital.”

“Surely not,” he pleaded with her. “Not for a nosebleed, she’ll be better in a moment, she’s getting better...”

“She isn’t, Tom. She isn’t.” 

Tom had a driver on standby, and he and Clara had Merry bundled up and off in a matter of minutes. Clara deemed an ambulance unnecessary, but she did call ahead to the hospital that Sloan Kettering had advised them to use in case Merry needed emergency care.

The three of them were swiftly taken past A&E and up to Oncology. Clara was on her mobile with her team, as well as consulting with the staff at the local hospital. Labs were being run. CT scans. X-rays.

Tom stood still, feeling as though he was at the center of a hurricane. Fortunately, he’d had the sense to apprise Luke of the situation, and Luke came onto the scene and provided him with a much needed sense of calm.

Luke arrived with cell phones, chargers, laptops and more chargers, tablets and chargers...he found a comfortable, secure place for Tom to sit and wait while Merry was going from lab to imaging to another imaging center. He made sure there was enough food and entertainment at the suite so Liam wouldn’t be unduly frightened by the fact that his mother, newly-acquired father, and mother’s nurse had suddenly left, leaving Aidan pale and anxious. Aidan was understandably a wreck and Liam was very observant, so everyone wanted to keep Liam as absorbed in something—anything—as possible.

Tom was...still. The man Luke had once despairingly referred to as a living Rube Goldberg machine, was sitting, or standing, so completely still. Waiting.

Clara came though for a brief moment to explain what was happening to Merry.

“Tom...I’m sorry, who is this?”

Tom quickly made introductions. Clara still looked askance, but muttered, “At this point, what the hell,” and continued.

“Tom, uh, I’m glad someone is with you at any rate...I think you should sit down.”

Tom, who had been leaning against the wall, paled and shot Clara a look of pure fear.

“No. Nononono. Why do I need to sit down, Clara, tell me she’s okay, she’s fine, she’s just fine, it was a nosebleed, that’s all it was! That’s all!”

Clara and Luke exchanged a look of sudden solidarity, and each took an elbow, and guided Tom to a chair. He looked helplessly at each face as his knees gave way.

Clara crouched in front of him.

“Tom...the trial failed. We need to get her back to Memorial Sloan Kettering right away...”

“Luke, I don’t care what you have to do...”

“Tom!” 

As both voices called out his name, he subsided, and his lanky frame seemed to shrink into itself.

Clara continued compassionately, “I don’t know if she is strong enough for the flight.”

Luke saw as Tom’s pupils dilated, and something inside his client winked out. He took over. 

“Tell me what Ms. Skye needs. Is it a private jet to get her back to New York? Is it getting her specialists here?”

“She isn’t going to...hang on,” she sighed as her mobile began buzzing angrily again, “I have to...yes. Will they take her here...No?! Seriously?” She got up and strode out, her face agitated.

Tom leaned forward and placed his face in his hands. Luke took Tom’s shoulders and squeezed them. “Hang in there, Tom. We will find a way to help her, there’s got to be a way...”

Tom shook his head in disbelief, watching through the glass as Clara was intently listening and pacing, clearly upset. Then she hung up, her face streaked with tears.

When she entered the room, she barked, “Ignore the tears. I’m not sad I’m pissed. There is only one therapy left for Merry, and only one doctor at Sloan Kettering that is willing to take her on...it’s her last chance...the therapy is available here in the UK...but she doesn’t fit the parameters, no one is willing to let her try...”

Tom stood up so rapidly, the chair went flying. “Who do I need to talk to...”

“Stop it, Tom, you can’t take on the entire NHS...! There are families just as desperate as you, are you going to step ahead of their children? When Merry doesn’t even fit their protocol? I’m angry, yes, but we have got to respect the scientific procedures! As it is, we are lucky there is someone...anyone...willing to give her this one last chance!”

Luke, ever the voice of reason, spoke up. “Clara, if we need to get Merry to New York, what has to happen? How much time do we have, and how much time do we need?”

Clara groaned, “I need to get her stabilized as quickly as possible so she can tolerate the eight hour flight...”

Luke interposed smoothly, “A private jet will be able to make the trip faster than a commercial airliner. It will also be able to make Merry more comfortable as well. Get everything Merry needs ready, and I will get us a plane.”

“Us?”

Luke’s smile was wry. “Do you want to be the one responsible for keeping that one (he pointed to Tom) calm at 50,000 feet? No? Are you sure?...Then yes, us.”

Clara looked at Tom. “Don’t you go anywhere,” she warned. “Merry is in and out, but she asks for you and Liam in the same breath. I need her calm. Can you do that, for once? Can you reassure her and keep her quiet? Tom, this is her absolute last chance. I can’t stress this enough.”

Tom gave her his steadiest, most unwavering expression. “Clara, I gave my word days ago I would give her and Liam everything they need, everything they want, everything in my power to give them. I haven’t reneged, and I won’t. When can I see her?”

She shook her head as if weighing him against the consequences, before deciding, “Follow me.”

Merry...Sweetheart? Merry?

Tom wanted nothing more than to scoop her tiny, frail body up into his arms, but he knew that would not go over well in this very cold, very sterile room. Monitors beeped, oxygen tanks hissed, there were drips and she was so small in the very uncomfortable looking bed.

He took her hand and found it cold, so he pressed it against his cheek. “Merry, I’m here. Your Tom.”

Her eyelids flickered. “Tom,” she breathed, her weak voice muffled by the oxygen mask strapped to her face. “Liam, where’s Liam?”

“Liam is safe, with Aidan. I understand there is pizza, and a movie we are missing tonight. He is fine, and calm, Merry.”

Her smile was genuine. “So glad, Tom...thank you.”

“Thank you...? For what, Mozart?” He took her hand, warming nicely in his, and kissed it as he smiled at her, leaning against the side of her bed.

“For a man...promised no strings...taken them...composed...a symphony,” she sighed, her eyes beginning to close again.

“Hey, not so fast,” he chided her, cupping her face. He marveled, as always, how naturally she nestled into his hand. “You are the composer, the musician, sweetheart.”

“Liam...Liam is our symphony,” she whispered. “You’ve taken to him...he to you...couldn’t ask for more...You and Aidan..take good care of him...know you will...”

Tom felt the air freeze around him. “No, Mozart, we are going to take such good care of him. All three of us. Mama, Papa, and Aidan. What a lucky little boy he is!”

“Tom.” Her eyes were reproachful. 

“Merry...please. Please, I beg you, don’t do this...”

“Don’t have to hang on...for him...any more, Tom...He’s safe...will be loved.”

Tom bent over, so his face filled Merry’s vision. “Yes, Merry, he is safe, and he is, and will be loved...but please, Merry...will you hang on for me? Because you are, and you will be loved...I love you so, Meredith. I love you. Please, Mozart, please...If you leave me, you take with you all the symphonies, all the song, all the music in the world. You’ve played on my heartstrings from the first day I met you...you lifted your bow and all I heard was the beauty in your soul. Don’t give up yet, Merry. Will you try? Please try, Merry...Clara and I are going to get you back to New York and Sloan Kettering. But you have to rest, and not give up yet.” Tom could scarcely speak, but forced his words out, smiling as best he could while holding her hand against his heart and stroking her cheeks.

“Back?...the trial, I heard...it’s over, Tom.” Tears fell from the corners of her eyes. “Trying...not to be bitter...knew no guarantees...but I failed..tell me these beautiful things...when it’s too late...” The tears were flowing down both their faces now, Merry’s face was regretful, but Tom’s was anguished and determined.

“No, not true, Merry, that’s not true. You didn’t fail at all. This trial didn’t suit you, but as it turns out, there is one more.”

Merry’s eyes widened, but then her face fell. “Tom...I couldn’t bear it if...”

“Merry, I have never lied to you, nor will I begin now. The only time I was untrue was when I lied to myself, when I told myself I could be happy if I let you go. I never stopped loving you, Meredith Skye.”

The slow, languid smile he never thought he would see again crossed her face.

“Thomas William Hiddleston...” Was it his imagination, or did her eyes become a little sharper, her shoulders a little higher?

“Yes, my Mozart?” He took her other hand, and kissed it hopefully.

“Couldn’t stop loving you...any more...than...playing the strings. For me...always strings attached...just didn’t want..to tie you down.” Her eyes closed, exhausted.

“Silly Merry.” Tom kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her hands, as he smiled down upon her, his eyes stinging. “How can anything be tied down what Meredith sends, like a lark, ascending?”

Merry opened one eye and moaned, “Tom...that is...truly awful...know how many times...had to deal...variations on a theme...that line?”

“Oh, come on,” he pleaded. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to use it?”

“Not...long enough,” she sighed, and closed her eye again.

It took a little more than sixteen hours for Clara to become satisfied Merry was stable enough for the flight. It took Luke less than two hours to finalize the flight plans, as he had already begun sussing them out from the moment he left the room.

Liam’s eyes could not stop moving. He thought the flight coming to London was exciting enough, but this, this was beyond astonishing. 

“The whole plane is just for us?” he kept repeating in shock and delight.

Aidan held his hand firmly. “Yes, and you need to listen and stay still just as you did on the flight over. The rules haven’t changed at all...”

“Why don’t you tell me the rules, Liam,” suggested Tom, as they were fastening their seat belts. “Just in case I’ve missed a few since the last time I was on an airplane.”

Liam ticked them carefully off on his hand. “You hafta keep your seat belt on whenever you’re sitting down. Aidan takes care of me. Clara takes care of Mama. And Mr. Luke takes care of you!” He broke down into giggles.

“And of all of us, I have the hardest job,” mourned Luke, who was sitting across from Liam and Aidan. “Aidan, can I convince you to trade?”

“No, I’m only trained up to four year olds,” smirked Aidan. “I haven’t qualified for grown-up wrangling just yet.”

“Nothing to it,” Luke offered hopefully as the plane began to taxi away from the airport. “Offer them a little scotch and you’re all set.”

“Then why haven’t you done so yet?”

“Um...” Luke bit his lip, as he scrambled to find an acceptable answer in front of the very interested little boy who was sitting, listening to every word.

“Yes, Luke, do tell,” drawled Tom, who was craning his neck back trying to see how Clara and Merry were faring in the aft part of the cabin.

“Papa? Will you color with me?” Liam’s voice was hopeful as the plane began to take off.

Tom reached across to grasp his son’s small hand in his. “Absolutely, son. As soon as the pilot says we can stand up and walk around, I will check on Mama, and then sit back down, and we can color.”

“But you hafta...”

“Put my seat belt back on, yes.”

“Tom Hiddleston, star of stage and screen, coloring,” teased Luke quietly. “Who would have thought?”

“Yes,” agreed Tom, looking at Liam’s happy, alert expression, his own face alight with a sunshine smile of pure joy. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

The brightness rapidly faded when they heard pained coughing emanating from behind them. Tom rapidly disengaged his seat belt and launched himself towards the back of the plane, which had a privacy panel erected. Liam had been able to see his mother in her seat that reclined into a bed, and give her a kiss before he was seated, with the understanding Mama needed her rest during the flight, so she wasn’t to be disturbed.

“But Papa, we’re not s’ppos’d to even...”

“Hush, Liam,” Aidan told him firmly. “Let Papa see about Mama. That’s his job now, too.”

“Like you used to?”

“Like he still does,” Papa’s firm voice came floating from the back. “Listen to Aidan now, that’s a good boy.”

Liam was a bright boy, and he quickly learned that when Papa used that tone of voice, it was best not to make him repeat himself.

“She’s fine,” Clara fussed quietly. “Just a bit of a cough. I’ve got her, Tom.”

Merry opened her eyes, hearing his name. Between her medications, the pressurization, and weakness, she could barely keep her head up. Her breathing shifted when she saw him.

“Steady, now, love,” he crooned. “You’re doing well, Clara says so, and I’m not brave enough to argue with Clara. Not at this altitude, anyway.”

A ghost of a smile tickled her face. He was kneeling at her side, so it was easy for him to stroke her forehead and cheek, and take her hand and kiss it. Her oxygen mask was firmly in place.

“It’s still so cold,” he fretted softly.

“Then put it back under the blanket,” Clara scolded.

Merry mumbled, “Liam...?”

“Liam is well, darling, I’m going to go color with him in a moment.”

She closed both eyes then. “Mind your...blue crayon...hoards them...” and went back to sleep.

To both his chagrin and delight, Tom learned Merry was right.

Aidan took several photos of Liam, curled up in Tom’s lap, clutching his new bear, Tom’s arms protectively holding him close to his chest in a similar fashion, both of them asleep. He knew that Merry would want to see them later.

Luke whispered, “Would you mind sending those to me? Tom’s mother did not get to meet Liam or Merry, in fact Tom barely got to explain the situation to her before we left. I know that she would like to see them as well.”

“Wow, sure,” Aidan agreed. “I wonder how that conversation went...if I dropped that bomb on my mom and then left the country, well, I think I’d better leave and keep on running. If we were still speaking, that is.”

“Oh, uh...”

“‘S alright,” Aidan yawned. “‘S better off like this, the old harridan. Merry and I, neither one of us had mothers worth a damn...” he closed his eyes. “Gonna try and rest a bit, because once we hit the ground, Liam’s gonna be fully recharged, mark m’words...”

Luke was certain Aidan was right. Perhaps it was best that they all get some sleep...

When Merry had a better idea of her surroundings again, she was back in a spot she was familiar with, although she wished she wasn’t—a room in Sloan Kettering. She found it was easier to take a halfway deep breath, without feeling the room spin or having tunnel vision. She noted there was a large bag of packed red blood cells hanging over her head, and gave a half smile. Guess the vampires are going to start picketing again...

Clara was busily consulting with Doctor Kelly Florence, who cocked her head and looked at Merry when she saw her open her eyes and lift her head.

“Well, there you are.”

Kelly had a soft North Carolinian drawl and a gentle face that belied a will of steel and a mind like a Cray supercomputer.

“Well, kitten, I’m real sorry that last trial didn’t do you much good,” Kelly sighed unhappily. “I’d hoped Dr. Roths had something goin’ for you with that. Let’s recap.”

“Wait, please,” a thick, sleepy voice spoke up. “I need to get as much backstory as possible.” Tom stretched as he awoke from the chair he had been sleeping in from the corner of Merry’s room.

Clara rolled her eyes. “Trust you to think of it as backstory,” she snarked, as Tom rubbed his eyes and tried to shake himself into mental alertness.

“I’m sorry,” apologized Dr. Florence, extending her hand. “I haven’t had the pleasure yet. Dr. Florence. I thought I’d met all of Merry’s support team by now.”

Tom flushed as he shook her hand with his right and rubbed the back of his neck with his left. “Ah, well. Tom Hiddleston...I would that I had been here...but I’m here now.”

Merry took his hand and murmured, “Looking forward, Tom...’member?”

He smiled and squeezed her hand. “Just so, darling.” Inwardly, he was braced for the inevitable dance of recognition, but was both relieved and delighted when it never began. As far as Dr. Florence (“Just call me Kelly”) was concerned, he was simply another loved one in Merry’s life.

“Okay, Merry. Looking at where you’ve been, and where you are...The most important facts are, hon, you can’t keep any red blood cells—which is why you’re always cold, dizzy and light headed, tired, weak, and short of breath—or platelets—which is why you’re always bruising and bleeding all the time. Poor thing, you must be so tired of those nosebleeds...We’ve already taken your spleen, and you are darned lucky that so far this monster hasn’t moved into your brain or your liver...but I’m always worried about your lungs, honey, because you just have so much trouble breathin’, it’s a concern...” Kelly clucked her tongue in sympathy. “We’ve tried just about everything, haven’t we...radiation. Chemotherapy. You were never a candidate for stem cell therapy, sadly...”

“Excuse me,” Tom asked quietly. “Why not?”

“Oh, Tom, she never had a chance for that to take. There wasn’t anyone we could get get a match from...no family match, not even little Liam, even if Merry would consider it...”

“Merry...?” Tom asked, his voice quiet. Dangerous. “Did you ask your parents? Please tell me you asked, I know that relations were strained between you and your family when we last spoke of them, but for Liam’s sake, did you approach them?”

Merry took care not to look at Tom as she replied, “...not the time for this discussion.”

“Merry...” Again, his voice was quiet, but now, more pleading entered his tone. “If you don’t wish to see them, point me in their direction. I will ask, I will beg, I will...”

“Tom...not necessary. My father is dead...my mother is...not interested in helping...Case closed.” 

Kelly jumped into the conversation before it degraded further, she could tell by the temple vein pounding wildly in Tom’s face that he was barely holding his temper in check. “Tom, even if her mother had a sudden change of heart, it’s too late in the game for that. We’ve gone down just about every avenue, every road...Dr. Roth took the path of a new targeted therapy, using new drug combinations to attack specific cancer cells without harming normal cells, using antibodies to block cancer cells from growing, keep them from spreading, stop your white blood cells from growing like weeds...

“I’m sure you remember, but at the time you were given a choice, going with Dr. Roth, or going with me. Dr. Roth’s track record’s better than mine, so it made sense to go with him. But since it didn’t work, do you want to give me a try, hon? There is no shame if you don’t. You have fought this monster for so long. I know you are tired, your bones hurt... If you are ready to say you just want to concentrate on your quality of life, I can make sure we keep you comfortable as possible. It is not quitting. It is your life, Merry. I want you to—”

“I’m in.”

Kelly’s eyebrows rose. “Merry...”

“No, Kelly...’m all in...have too much to live for.” Merry looked at Tom, smiled then looked down and away. “...a little boy who needs his Mama...”

“You have the little boy’s Papa, who very much needs the boy’s Mama, as well,” Tom reminded her tenderly, as he squeezed her hand.

Really, the way she smiled and looked down and away grabbed him every. Single. Time.

Kelly lifted her shoulders and said, “The lady says go, then the word is given. Let me explain to you, Tom, what CAR T-Cell therapy is, how it works, and how I hope it’s going to help Merry. I can’t make any promises. But it’s the only thing left to try.”

Afterwards, Tom looked at Merry, feeling much more daunted by the prospect. Dear God, what else would she have to endure?

Merry and Tom looked into each other’s eyes.

“Are you sure about this, Mozart? No matter what you decide, you know I am with you, every step of the way.”

Merry smiled. “Bring it, Papa Bear...everything to gain...nothing to lose.”

After Merry signed all the consent forms, he hissed, “Papa Bear?”

“Didn’t see the pictures...? Luke showed me...before we were on the ground...”

Luke, you utter, utter...you know what, I don’t even have words. Those photos with me and my son...do you know what Merry is calling me now? Do you have any idea?

Take it up with Aidan, Papa Bear.

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[hamliet]

Not to bother you but doesn't the fact that hiyori was only 15 when her and yato, who was already much older than any human, met in terms of shipping yatori? And what about the whole argument that yato stalked her? I'm sorry if this is annoying it's just that i really want to ship it now that it's canon that they at least like it each other but i tend to be easily influenced by arguments like that and i thought maybe you got something to give me peace of mind?

Hey person who sent that yatori ask here again! I just wanted to say it's ok if you don't want to answer it but i also wanted to say that your blog generally makes me feel better about shipping what i want (especially if it comes to things like yukinora) but like i can "explain away" most arguments of people who are anti yatori besides the age thing and if they become canon i might end up not enjoying noragami anymore and i just don't know how to not feel guilty about wanting to ship it idk

I had no idea this was even a thing because Yatori is such a vanilla, obvious ship (I like it!). Gosh lol. I think antis are really bored. 

My answer is honestly that it’s kind of... ludicrous to apply real world standards to a fantastical story about gods and ayakashis and the like. It’s not any different than, say, the Twilight series’ age difference. For all you could criticize about Twlight, that was the one that showed no critical thinking whatsoever. 

Myths about gods and humans falling in love have existed in every culture ever. Comparing modern power dynamics to myths or retellings of these myths completely ignores the context and is honestly bad-faith reading and a deliberate misunderstanding. Is it shown within the context to be creepy or abusive? No, it’s not. Why does a fictional story have to abide by real world standards? Why should it? It’s fantasy.

If people wanna argue that real world morality and consequences come from fiction... it’s not that simple. That’s scarily close to the “video games cause school shootings in America!” argument that has been debunked. But it’s not “no relation;” the relationship between fiction and reality is nuanced and there isn’t one right answer, which is why critical thinking is a must.

Applying morality to fiction is honestly the mark of an insecure person, imo. There’s no point to it. There are no ayakashis or dead shinkis in the real world. There aren’t young attractive gods waiting in your school bathroom. Hence we cannot translate reality into the fantasy via a one=one comparison and vice versa; to do so shows a very small worldview. Don’t engage with antis; they aren’t interested in good-faith arguments and cannot be persuaded. They are, 99.99% of the time, interested in using others to feel good about themselves like most bullies. You cannot reason with them. Just ignore them is my honest advice. 

Also, it’s fine for people to be sensitive to that; it genuinely is.However, being sensitive to or even triggered by something does not inherently make the thing you are triggered by equivalent to the memory it triggers. Speaking as someone with PTSD. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #224

“i don’t miss you, i miss the misery.”

What’s a hobby you would like to try out? Digital art. What sort of a kiss do you count as the first kiss? A mutual effort to kiss. Like, you both purse your lips. What time is too early for you? 5:00 A.M. is generally when if I wake up, I'll go back to bed. Have you ever won a raffle? If so, what’ve you won? Yes, actually. I very faintly remember winning something up in New York at a bowling alley as a family when I was little. Idr what we won. What’s the most useless thing you have vast knowledge on? Probably Silent Hill lol, if we're talking about truly useless. Video game lore and such knowledge isn't exactly truly useful. Is there anything you feel you’re better at than anybody else? No. What’s the biggest insect you’ve ever seen? Uhhh probably some kind of beetle. How about the biggest spider? A bird-eating tarantula when I was at the reptile convention with Sara. When’s the last time you played Pac-Man? WOW, it's been years. I've only ever played it on my childhood GameBoy. What is your favorite winter Olympic sport? I guess ice skating is pretty, but I don't care about sports. You Internet dies; what do you do for the next little while? Ummm this is when I feel like a caveman lmao. Probably... play Nintendogs on my DS. I hate hate hate how reliant I am on technology. What was the last test you completely failed? Recently on my first math test of this year. I bombed it, but at least I wasn't alone I guess. Oh look, it’s snowing outside! Do you get excited? Hell yes. Is your room covered in posters, or pretty bare? My walls are coooooverrrrrred. What sport do you completely fail at? I went to a volleyball summer camp thing in school years upon years ago and that shit HURT. I don't think I stayed the whole duration of it. Do you ever question life and existence? Not really anymore. Why does it really even matter why we're here, just make the most of it. Admit it, we all love brand named clothes. What’s your favorite? I genuinely don't care about brand names. Would you ever risk having a house party when you’re parents are gone? Hell no. What are you plans for the future? Achieve a stable career, learn to drive and have my own car, buy my own home, move in with the person I love, have lots of pets, and most importantly just be happy and content. Is your cell phone on vibrate? It pretty much always is. Is your dishwasher full? We don't have a dishwasher; we have to wash by hand. What are your thoughts on Avenged Sevenfold? I don't know many of their songs, but they're fine, from what I've heard. Have you ever played tennis? No, I don't have that coordination. Have you ever played fetch with a dog? I think so. Have you ever pet a stingray? No. Who is the last baby you held? Colleen's son forever ago because she needed me to. Would you ever consider being a cannibal? Wow no. Do you have any scars from an animal? Possibly, idk. I have a lot of small scars. How have you been sleeping? Awful. I've pretty damn consistently been having screaming fits (I mean, actually shrieking) at night where I attack my bed from nightmares. I actually recently hurt my hand from it. I want to go to the doctor about it, it's really worrying me. Are you adopted? No. Do you like scrapbooking? I'm not really a crafts person, no. Do you collect anything valuable? No. How many house phones do you have? Zero. We only use cellphones. Do you know anyone with an eating disorder? I don't believe so, thankfully. What was the last thing you killed? I at least tried crushing a flea. Mom used some kind of spray on the dogs outside, but it resulted in them just hopping off them inside too, apparently. Whose number did you last get? I have no idea. Have you ever thought about stepping in front of a car? I mean, I've had like those passive thoughts; you know, like when you're up somewhere high and your brain tells you to jump. But never seriously. Have you ever lied down in the middle of the street? Don't give me The Notebook flashbacks pls sobs. Anyway, ha ha, yes, only because my sister wanted a picture of us huddled together when Misty was here? Everyone loves that picture though so thanks for taking it Jason, lol. Do you listen to explicit music? Some songs, sure. Have you ever used someone for money? I could never live with myself doing that. Do you own colored eyeliner? No, just black. When was the last time that you had a pet that died? Some time last year when we got two sick rats in a row. Have you ever tried peanut butter and bananas together? Yeah, pb&banana sandwiches are pretty good. Do you have any mental disorders? *opens notes* Chronic depression, crippling social anxiety, severe generalized anxiety, bipolarity II, AvPD, PTSD, and OCD W O W ! ! ! ! ! Have you ever had to live with a friend? Yes, when we got evicted in '17. Do you believe everything happens for a reason? Hell no. Why does the little kid have leukemia? So God can scare you into faith to save the child he cursed with the disease? Why did my sick kitten get run over when I was a kid? Why was my sister almost raped as a teen? I could go on forever about this. Life gets a lot more bearable once you just accept the shit isn't fair and has no rhyme or reason. You just have to live with it. Do you believe in sex before marriage? I believe in sex once you feel truly in love with someone. Just be safe with it. Do you know anyone who married their high school sweetheart? Two, off the top of my head. Have you ever known anyone who died at war? I don''t think so. Who was the last person to hug you? My niece of nephew, I'm sure. Who is your favorite female celebrity? ... Wowie, why are like, all the ones I'm seriously invested in males. I suppose maybe Eugenia Cooney? Her recovery and development is like so fucking beautiful and I am 99.99% there isn't a sweeter person in existence. Were you nervous on your first day of high school? A little bit, of course. Three words to describe your best friend: Loyal, honest, and supportive as all fuck. Are you literally afraid of anyone? Yes. Who did you last take a picture with? My dad, I think? Literally forever ago? Who was the last person to comfort you? Sara. Who was the last person to unsurprisingly disappoint you? Mom. If she says "yeah we'll do (whatever)," don't hold her to it, ever. If you answer a question wrong in class, does it embarrass you? YEAH. What’s your favorite Lady Gaga song? "Bad Romance" is the shit. I also really like the "Love Game" remix with Marilyn Manson in it. Would you date someone who smokes? No sir. Would you date someone who was addicted to drugs? Why or why not? That's an even bigger "no sir." Would you date the same sex? Why or why not? Well yeah, 'cuz I'm bisexual. What’s your biggest turn off? Physically, bad hygiene. Personality-wise, being full of yourself and overly-confident is such a turn-off. What’s your biggest turn on, physically? Do. Not. Touch. My. Boobs. Where would you go on a first date? Me personally, I think a safe bet is the movies. The first date is always so nerve-wracking, so a movie takes away some of the pressure to talk as much as you can. HOWEVER, I think it's very important to have bonding/getting to know each other time, so I think having a meal together is a nice addition. Most hurtful relationship? The ending of mine and Jason's. Ever regretted breaking up with someone? No. Have you ever dated someone more than once? No. Do you miss any of your exes? I mean, I miss Jason as a friend, though I know it's probably for the better we no longer associate with one another. What’s your biggest turn on, NOT physically? Romance. Act respectful, like you truly love and want me as a partner. Obviously see me as your equal. What is the sweetest thing someone you dated did for you? Probably Sara actually listening and not getting jealous or annoyed by me talking about my occasional bad PTSD days. Last time you got flowers? A random day Tyler came over when we were dating in early '17. Are you ready to get into a serious relationship right now? I'm in one now. Do you like cuddling? If I romantically like you, I am a total cuddlebug. Do you regret dating anyone? Why or why not? Idk. I wanna say Tyler, but I mean, it tested my ability to say "fuck no I'm not dealing with (whatever trait)." Most important lesson you have learned from dating? DO!!! NOT!!!!! EVER!!!!!! RELY!!!!! ON A PERSON!!!!!! TO BE!!!!!!!! YOUR SOLE SOURCE!!!!!!!!!!! OF HAPPINESS!!!!!!!!!!! What does it take to get you on a date? I mean, ask? Be clear that you're interested in me? Are you happier single or in a relationship? In a relationship. I just feel like there's some sort of validation I'm an interesting and/or fun person. Favorite ex? This is a... weird question. I mean, Girt is the only one I remain in contact with and adore as a friend, but I was VERY easily most in love with Jason. How important are looks? I really can't say I care much. I mean yes, it's harder to be sexually attracted to someone you don't find visually pleasing, but I've dated people I wasn't physically attracted to before, and looks didn't hold me back from dating them or being romantically attracted to them. How do you know when you are in love? Oh, you know. I can't really explain it, you just like... know. If someone cheated on you, would you take them back if you really loved them? NO SIR-EE. Have you ever been ashamed of anyone you were dating? No. Favorite memories with an ex? I don't want to ponder this for my PTSD's sake. I have a novel of "favorite" memories with him. Would you name a child of yours after you? Ugh, no. I honestly hate that. Like... it seems so egotistical, and why would you WANT to?? Like... that's your name. I just don't get it, at all. Obsessions? Markiplier is ACTUALLY the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit, & I love lots of other YouTubers (no others really to the point of obsession tho, I'd say.... well, maybe Game Grumps), m e e r k a t s, the Silent Hill series, uhhhhh maybe that's it as far as real obsession goes. Perhaps Shadow of the Colossus with how many times I've played and beaten the thing. Addictions? I'm perfectly aware and regretful of just how reliant I am on technology. I turn into a caveman without it. I'm proooobably addicted to soda, fuckin' rip. Do you speak another language? Not anymore. I want to take German again, though, to refresh my memory and further improve, but I only really plan to if I have serious plans to visit Germany. Do you have a webpage? I have a Wix for my photography that I spent eons on jc. Do you live in the moment? Honestly, I don't feel so, most of the time at least. I'm always worrying and thinking about the future. Do you consider yourself tolerant of others? I'm, for the most part, extremely tolerant, though I can't decide if it's a good or bad thing that I'm becoming less so with time. Like ex., now, I seriously don't think I could be your friend if you don't support gay rights. There's just some shit I see as so ridiculous that I don't want to associate with you and give you my tolerance of your bullshit, hateful opinion. Do you ever pretend to be someone else just to look cool? I'm 23 years old. What are your #1 priorities in life? My happiness, my health, Sara, my pets. Is there anything you fear or hate about yourself? Yeah. Certain types or urges in different situations, my religious anger and spite, my absolutely malice for my sister's horrid dog that for whatever fucking reason lives with us and not her... that kinda stuff. I think mostly just things relating to anger. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Hey anxiety, could you like?????????????? fuck off???????????????? Do you think you are emotionally strong? I will fucking NOT associate with your ass if you think I'm not after all the shit I've been through. Period. Not up for debate. What is your first name? *intro to B. Spears' "Gimme More" plays in the distance* Who was the first person you spoke to in person today? My mother. What was your first pet? The family cat Chance. If you mean like, actually mine, either Squeak the guinea pig or Shadow the Chinese water dragon. What was your first job? A GameStop sales clerk. How long was your first relationship? In my puppy-dog love middle school experience, maybe like, a couple of months? My first real one was three and half years. Who was the first person to break your heart? If you mean in any form, not just romantically, my dad when he abandoned us. Romantically, Jason. First person to give you flowers or candy on Valentine’s day? Other than my loved ones, Aaron, my 7th grade bf. First band you obsessed about? Truly obsessed with, Ozzy Osbourne. I loved Green Day as a kid, but it wasn't an obsession. First place you lived? Along the coastal plain/Piedmont border in North Carolina. First alcoholic beverage? Mike's Hard Lemonade. gud shit. First place someone took you on a date? I think Aaron and I went on a group date to the rollerskating rink first? That was a great day. Can you do a backflip? I'd break my neck, homie. Are you listening to anything right now? I'm binging Mother Mother. "Letter" is on right now. What do you do when you can’t fall asleep? Do exactly what you shouldn't do and get on the laptop, lmao. What’s the biggest lie you’ve told someone? There's something I told Jason in my first letter to him after the breakup that I honestly... don't know if it was a lie or not. I was so goddamn hurt that I'd say almost anything. I don't want to talk about it, though. Have you ever been hit on by someone of the same sex? She's my girlfriend of two years, I'd hope she woulda by now, lmao. Have you ever been engaged and broke it off? Nope. Have you ever found pictures on your camera you don’t remember taking? I don't think so. Has anyone ever drawn a picture of you? I don't believe so. WAIT. Tyler drew a picture of me and him, I think? At least she had my common outfit. Have you ever dated a redhead? No. Where is your favorite place to go when you want to be alone? I'm always in my room alone, so like- Do you have any nieces or nephews? Boy, a lot. Do any of your friends have children? Yes. Is there anything you’re craving right now? I've honestly been a horny POS for forever now. What caused the last argument you had? My sister's mother-in-law being a homophobic piece of garbage. What was the last movie you watched? Good question. It's been a long time. Where were you the last time you kissed someone? The airport. Where was your last paycheck from? The day I worked at the dollar store for two hours and got $9 lmao. What was the last school you received a degree from? My high school. What did the last key you used go to? My house. Don’t tell me lies, so is the last person you texted attractive? She's gorgeous. Have you ever thought about getting your tongue pierced? I have snake eyes now, which I got done twice, because the first time, it was pierced too far back, so the swelling of my tongue literally started to swallow/heal over the bar. :') But it was worth it; it was by far the most painful piercing (the second time actually made me nauseous), but it's my favorite. What’s the background on your phone? My lock screen is fanart of Darkiplier & the simple picture impregnated me; my home screen is Sara and me. Are you a parent? To pets. :') How are things between you and the person you are with? Great. Who was the last person you had a conversation with on the phone? Idk, my mom, probably. If you have a birthmark, where and what color? Yeah, exterior of my right arm. It's a slightly darker brown that the rest of my skin. When was the last time you felt nauseous? A while back. List three things that make you feel nauseous. THE SOUND OF VOMITING, even preparing to attempt to pick up pet shit, and uhhhh, how am I blanking. I guess certain smells? Idk. Do your parents support your dreams? Yes. List three of your favorite types of YouTube videos to watch. Comedy ones between friends, let's plays, and Mark's character ones are a unique and Supreme brand of video. What is your favorite park? Idk, I haven't been to many. Do you get fireflies where you live? Yep. What is the name of your YouTube channel, if you have one? 0zzkat (it's a zero). Do you wear the same shirt and shorts multiple times before washing? Only pj pants. If I actually go out in clothes, no, I change. What is your favorite store at the mall? Hot Topiiiiiic. Has a medication ever given you nightmares? Yes. I can't remember which it was, though. And I suppose one I'm on now might be causing them? Would you rather be surrounded by maple trees, fir trees, or palm trees? MAPLE!!!!!!!!!! How many different states have you lived in? Only one. What’s your favorite thing to do on a hot day? Swiiiiiim. Do you know anyone who’s allergic to bees? I don't think so. What does your favorite bikini look like? Sweetheart, nobody wants to see me in a bikini. What is your favorite thing to do at the beach? Swim. Do you think you are attractive? Nope. Who have you hugged in the past month? Mom, probably, and I actually think that's it. Are you good at recovering from injuries? Uh, I mean, I guess? Do you have more piercings or tattoos? They're tied at six, actually. Last bad news you heard? Some guy recently tried to break into Nicole's friend's house while she was home alone, but she scared him off with a shotgun through the window. I'm still not fucking over it. Last good news you heard? I got a 94 on the final test for the book we read in Writing. What was the last thing you posted on a Instagram? I only ever post photography on both of mine, so some picture. Do you prefer to live alone or live in a family? I wouldn't know; I never lived alone. What states have you visited, that you remember? New York, Florida, Virginia, South Carolina, and I recall Ohio VERY faintly. Oh yeah, and Tennessee, but that's a vague memory as well. OH, HOW DID I FORGET ILLINOIS?????????? What countries have you visited? I've never left North America. What are five careers you’ve considered? In chronological order, some that I've considered are paleontologist, vet, movie designer, game designer, and photographer. What do you wish your hair looked like? I really wanna dye it silver rn. Do you still feel anything for the first person you fell in love with? I still care for him, yeah. I guess I'm in a way still protective of him, too, as I saw very clearly when a tornado landed in his general area this summer, and I felt like a total mama bear that desperately wanted to know if he was okay. I know in my gut I'd probably knock a bitch out if he was seriously hurt. I know, the absolute apex of irony. Who was the last person you called? Mom. Do you take pictures on your phone? Very rarely. My camera SUCKS. How old were you the first time you encountered God? Oh, brother. Have you ever hallucinated? In middle school when I was coming off of a medication, I saw moving shadows. Do you struggle to get by? I'm not the one who cares for myself financially; I still live "under" my mother, but oh yeah, we struggle alright. Who is the best looking male celebrity, in your opinion? ggggggggggggggggggIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLLLLLL looking at him forces me into ovulation lmao y'all done know who it is. Do you use Snapchat? No. Do you know anyone who’s colorblind? Jason's brother was colorblind to I believe red and green. I know it was two colors. What is your favorite time of day to run? Run???????????????? If I run, bitch you best be running too. What’s a show you remember the very first episode of? Meerkat Manor and That '70s Show are quite clear. I'm sure there are others, I just don't care to think too long about this. Do you hate sleeping in? If I need it, not really, but generally, I don't want to sleep past ~10:30. How late do you consider too late to sleep in? 12:00. What is something of yours that is falling apart? Ha ha ha, the very first thing that came to mind was our poor shed door. Hurricanes have legit torn most of the white paint off of it to where it hangs in strips. It looks so bad; I've told my mom so many times to just tear them off, but she thinks it would look worse that way. When was the last time you saw your crush? February. Sobs loudly. When was your due date, and when were you born? I was due January 20-something, but was born on February 5th, but only because my mom was induced. Do you want to have kids? NO. What website do you usually check first when you get online? KM, just to ensure it's not on fire.

[primeadv]

SITS DOWN

PULLS OUT 10 GIANT ALBUMS :))) 

(this came out way longer than I intended im so fuckgkdsdf sory)

How I feel about this character: EVERYONE WHO KNOWS ME KNOWS I’M IN LOVE WIHT RATCHET. I love him in all iterations of Transformers because he’s always the tired, pragmatic one of the group. In contrast, he’s also almost tiredly optimistic in some ways. He won’t get out of bed, but if someone gets shot in the head he’ll spend however long and beyond to resuscitate them. There’s 2 halves to this--the me who identifies with the beating exhaustion he exudes, and the me who’s in awe that he’ll still fight his way through life.  I won’t... get into each continuity...because that’s too much, so I’ll stick with probably the most unpopular version of him and that’s IDW (my impression, anyway). IDW Ratchet gets a lot of flack for being way too sour and like, maybe not selfish, but uncaring. He cares! A lot! He’s always thinking about everyone in really surprisingly thoughtful ways. Like when he’s 90% sure he’ll die due to Overlord and his last words are to promote First Aid to CMO (he’s ready!! god that’s sweet), and to give his hands to Whirl (though maybe a bit blindsided, he’s paid attention to some roots of Whirl’s trauma). Or yeah he’s hella mean to Drift in the beginning, but when Drift is dying in his arms he’s scREAMING at him “you’re gonna make it! You’re gonna be fine because I’m gonna make sure you’re gonna be fine”. He can be an asshole, but he knows the time and place. Death isn’t something to play with--he’s seen probably countless friends die, and he doesn’t want that to happen again. Even now, even after the war.  So I feel very confused when ppl act like he’s this mean, cold person. He’s exTREMELY emotional. He’s probably way too invested in everyone’s lives, honestly? He interrupts a round table story for Rung just to reminisce on the veery last time he, OP, and Roller were together in the same room (not even hanging out or anything, just being together one last time. who remembers that after 5+ millions years??). He started an illegal clinic in the bad part of town because he wanted to put his skills to better use! Like! LOL.  ALSO, a point that i think is unfair is that ppl think his atheism is just really mean. IT is! But I think it shows just how much of an emotional and extremely, deeply hurt person he is. It gets aggravating when he’s condescending of religion, because there’s no simple logic to it. He reacts the way he does because he’s a hurt person who’s gone through years of trauma and this is his way of coping. Is it healthy or right? Nah, but it’s humanizing. It’s why when he becomes closer to Drift he occupies this weird between space where he snarks but also tries to indulge more in perspectives outside of his own in his own dumb old tsundere way. He’s a person who believes in justice, ultimately, and religion to him doesn’t fall under justice.  ALSO, can I say that his inability to say good byes is so.. like relatable? I have rly bad social anxiety, and so I’ve definitely ghosted people who’ve been nothing but really supportive for me. It’s not because I wanted to burn them, but it freaks you out needing to, not even say goodbye, but communicate with ppl. And for Ratchet--how many times was he FORCED to say good bye to friends + patients who were dying beyond his help? Maybe, if he could help it, he doesn’t want to say goodbye. And it’s tragic the times he’s just left, these were people who ended up either dying for falling astray into insanity, i.e., beyond his help. But he learns. He chases after Drift, who he actually said, in a way, good bye to (helping him off the floor after being attacked, also I should point out that a very tiny handful of people were comfortable interacting w/ Drift at all, and how much Ratchet just doesn’t give a shit abt how other ppl think abt him. he’ll help drift off the floor bc t’s the right thing to do). He says goodbye in his old dumb way--First Aid calls him out on it. ALSO his trust in First Aid is super cute. ALSO he’s like.. genuinely nice to Ten (he helped him get a date with Minimus!!!). And he’s not afraid to call out on other ppl’s bullshit (telling rodi straight you dont deserve to be captain which, at the time, was really true). He’s also SUPER smart. Also there’s that post on tumblr that pointed out that Ratchet immediately goes to deescalate conflict. He’s willing to put aside pride and anything if it means ultimately coming to a resolution where EVERYONE involved is safe. The only time he doesn’t is FUCKING OVERLORD who he rightfully, immediately, tries to briefly incapacitate to lockdown his medibay (protect patients/information). Ok I gotta stop I can go on forever just going page to page. Also, despite my love, I can totally point out his flaws. He’s grating when it’s unnecessary, he’s abhorrently bad at communicating, he’s privileged, he’s narrow-minded at times, etc. ec. But again what I love about him is that despite all that, he’ll throw his own self out the window for others’s well-being bc he genuinely, genuinellyyy cares about other people. If only he could care for himself //cries All the people I ship romantically with this character OH god... everyone. He’s my bicycle.  ok look, ya’ll know I’m an intense dratchet shipper and I could literally write a god damn essay. ... here’s another essay???!! So, I’ma be real, I wasn’t a super dratchet shipper before. I wasn’t anti (i have no notps), but I was just “yeah they’re cute i guess haha”. But 99.99% the reason why I ship anything is all for super cute adorable fanart. and I kept drawing them because 1) ratchet’s my fav, 2) drift is super popular so I figured I should learn to draw him. And they became the only 2 mechs I could draw. I used to be way more into Scavengers + megarod. I used to only like 1 dratchet fanfic and that’s bc it was less romantic and more plot centric (still a fav tho). Then I kept seeing cute fanart, I would read posts by other dratchet shippers too about what makes them so nice? And I was yeah.. oh yeah. And it doesn’t help that in Lost Light, drift is CONSTANTLY by Ratchet’s side. He’s constantly checking up on him and holding him and touching him, like as if Ratchet is the thing that he needs to make sure, at all costs, is safe.  In Drift’s life, Ratchet is the one who appears to him when he needs support the most but is in the most denial of it. When Drift is at the brink of death, overdosed and about to be broken apart and Orion brings him to Ratchet’s clinic. Ratchet patches him up pro-bono and tells him that he sees something special in him.  like??? can you imagine how that feels? To have no one believe in you--you don’t even believe in yourself, and yet here’s this person who tells you “you’re gonna be great”. And it totally doesn’t hit Drift in anyway, at least in a way that’s tangible to him, until much later in life. Or maybe it does (hey, how do you weave character narratives when it’s been written by like 3 different ppl shrugs). And that statement means 2 different things to them. To Drift, it’s a reminder that he’s worth something, even if it’s a sliver of nearly nothing to hold onto. To Ratchet, it’s a reminder that the greatness he saw led to the deaths of thousands of people.  HEY can you imagine this person you saved, patched up, tried to encourage, ended up being a mass serial killer in the future? (have you ever read Monster by Naoki Urusawa). Ended up killing people you loved?  So it’s no wonder that a good part of Ratchet is absolutely mad at Drift. And I think if that was all, they probably would’ve ended up being amicable. But Drift also ended up being super religious and seeing the hand and primus in everything and oh my god is this person really waxing poetry on the value of life when he, himself, shot several bullets at me at one point?  I also believe they are uncomfortably similar as they are different. The reason why they constantly butt heads is they’re two people trying to escape a past they don’t want and found complete opposite ways to cope with their losses. Drift found religion, Ratchet is gratingly pragmatic, and they see each other and go “how could this guy choose to be this way?”. I’ve heard ppl like to cite the annual as the reason why they could never work out. BUT, can I point out, that they act around each other in a way they don’t with anyone else? Drift gets SO MAD. Ratchet gets extremely talkative and incredibly personal (pulled out an electro slug from someone’s spark, holy shit that fucking traumatized you didn’t it??). They challenge each other emotionally, and it’s so fucking difficult bc they’re both extremely depressed and suffer from PTSD and would probably rather just go on their dumb space adventure and look at stars--take 2 emotionally constipated idiots and you get them. And hell no, don’t tell me Drift is in-tune with his feelings bc he’s 10000% not. He uses religion to cope with a past and life that he doesn’t want to think about. He tries to re-contextualize himself because he hates who he is. OUCHHH. And Ratchet MAKES him confront the parts of himself he hates--bc Ratchet has seen his worst traits and isn’t afraid to make him think about it.  So why do they work out eventually? They realize how important they are to each other. Delphi, Drift saves Ratchet’s life while he’s barely holding onto his own because he probably feels like he owes Ratchet his own life. And that’s a huge turning point in their relationship--Ratchet sees that... Drift tries really really fucking hard. My friend Zig pointed out that post-Delphi, Drift is eating energon w/ chopsticks (what a fucking nerd), and you can see in a later panel that Ratchet (who chose to sit next to Drift) is using those chopsticks too. IT’s such a small thing, but they’re becoming closer by sharing and learning from each other. And then Drift takes the fall and leaves. And Ratchet realizes just how important Drift’s presence is in his life. I mentioned it already lol but the scene where Ratchet helps Drift up off the floor and it’s superimposed with the love message Rewind left for CD. They care about each other so much!! And Ratchet chases after him!! HOLY SHIT. If that isn’t romance, what is?? lol I kid, but it’s obvious just how important Drift’s presence meant to him. IT’s really because they became so so so close in a way that can’t be described as just friends. They deeply understand each other in really uncomfortable ways and bring out the absolute worst and absolute best in each other. And this point is where Ratchet again appears when Drift doesn’t realize he needs someone in his life. Drift thinks he can be a loner and just float aimlessly and voicelessly--hell no! He needs friends, he needs community. He NEEDs belonging, because he wants to belong somewhere. And Ratchet helps bridge him back to friends and found family.  And Ratchet slowly changes the more he’s with Drift. He reads religious text and tries to brag about it bc he’s a dumb tsundere lol but he’s trying to understand Drift’s interests more even if it takes a decade and more to get there. And Drift values him for being his rock. That’s why he’s constantly making sure Ratchet is safe and unharmed, because he owes at least that much to him. And yeah they eventually fall in love because they value each other in a way they haven’t anyone else. IM EMO I CAN GO ONE, this all probably didn’t make a whole lot of sense but yeah. I’m just so soft to the fact that they’re horribly hurt people who don’t know how to redirect their pain, but by being together they come out healthier and more confident. IT’S RLY ROMANTIC IDKKK My non-romantic OTP for this character As much as I also love OpRatch, they are also great best friend platonic ship. They know each other best, they’ve been through SO MUCH together. It’s honestly a shame they barely interact in IDW bc the small tidbits we have, they obviously deeply respect each other’s opinions and deeply value the relationship they’ve had over the past millions of years.  I’m also all for non-romanceOTP for dratchet because I can totally imagine they go to each other to talk about things they feel uncomfortable sharing with others (they’ve seen the absolute worst of each other afterall).  My unpopular opinion about this character I don’t... think I ahve one. Some ppl view my love for his as grating lol.  One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon. Medic spin off.

[hockeyandstuff91]

Waves of Pleasure - Part 9

Word Count: 2,222

Players: Tyler Seguin, Jamie Benn

Warnings: cussing

Authors note: Again no smut, I’m sorryyyyyyyy! There’s a reason though I promise! I was like 99.99% sure there would be, but this took a turn when I started writing. It is however alluded to in this chapter, so there’s that lmao! Anyways besides that, here is part 9! OMG what is this 4 days in a row now? I am so excited about this series I just keep going and going! haha I hope it keeps up! This has been the most consistent I have ever updated and I love it. I hope you guys enjoy this part, and where this is all going! Ahh I’m excited!!!! <3 Let me know what you all think :) (Also yes this part and last part both somehow ended up being 2,222 words. No I didn’t do it on purpose, I freaked out the first time, and even more so that it happened TWICE lmao)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3    Part 4     Part 5     Part 6   Part 7    Part 8    Part 10

(Brooke's POV)

The rest of the game against the Flames had been amazing to watch. Both Jamie and Tyler ended up getting goals, Tyler getting the OT winning goal. I was so excited that they had finally won, and everything seemed to be back to how it was a few days ago. That must of meant someone talked to Gavin.

I made my way downstairs and hung out outside the locker room. I generally would make my way back to the hotel after the game, but I was fine with waiting here this time, I just wanted to see my boys as soon as possible.

It was about half an hour when Tyler finally came out of the locker room. I smiled and met him halfway, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my lips to his. "That was an amazing game babe. And congrats on the goal!"

Tyler smiled at me and kissed me again, picking me up and holding me tightly. "I love you so much," he said once our lips parted.

"I love you more," I smiled, wrapping my legs around his waist as he held me.

"Not possible."

I blushed a bit and smiled at him. "So did one of you guys talk to Gavin?" I asked softly.

Tyler nodded, smiling "Yeah everything is okay now."

"What was wrong?"

"Um.. well he had heard you and Jamie the other night-"

"Oh god," I sighed, closing my eyes. "I'm so sorry baby."

"No don't be sorry its okay. It was going to happen eventually. Like I told Jamie, I don't care if the guys know," he started before kissing my cheek and whispering into my ear "it just wouldn't be the best if the media found out is all."

I pulled back, looking at him, my eyebrows furrowed. "You would be okay with all the guys knowing?"

"Yeah it would make everything easier. You and Jamie could be yourselves, not just at home, as long as no media is around of course," Tyler smiled at me, as he gently set me back down on my feet.

I smiled and nodded. "Whatever you want babe. You can tell them if you want, its up to you."

Tyler pressed his lips to my forehead. "When the time is right I will."

Jamie walked out of the locker room just then, smiling, which was something that I was always happy to see him doing. I hated seeing him upset after loses so when wins like this happened I was more excited to see my boys happy than the fact that they won the game.

"Hey Jam," I smiled at him.

"Hey," he smiled back at me.

Tyler chuckled, looking around. "There’s no one around you two can at least hug for Christ sake."

I laughed and wrapped my arms around Jamie. "Congrats on the goal tonight," I whispered into his ear.

"Thanks princess," he said softly, pulling back a little and looking around the hallway before his eyes landed on mine, leaning forward to give me a very fast kiss before pulling away from the embrace completely. I smiled, knowing that was all we could do here, and leaned against Tyler.

"I think its time to go back to the hotel what do you think?" Tyler asked.

I looked between the two and them and smiled, nodding. I already could tell what both of them wanted, especially after a win like that.

Once making it back to the hotel, Jamie stopped by the front desk for a minute, Tyler and I standing over by the elevator, waiting for him.

"Whats he doing?" I asked Tyler.

Tyler just smiled at me, rubbing his hand up and down my back, not answering my question. I laughed, figuring there was some sort of plan that they both had they wanted to be a surprise. I decided to just go with it, and see what they had planned.

Jamie soon made his way over to us, the three of us walking into the elevator. I stood against the back wall, watching as Jamie pressed the 6th floor button instead of the 3rd, like he had this morning when we got here.

"Wait but aren't we-"

"We are, but for the next hour or so we are on the 6th floor," Jamie smirked at me as the doors closed.

I bit my bottom lip, knowing exactly why he had been at the desk for so long. Jamie and Tyler's idea was to get a room away from the guys so that I didn't have to be quiet this time, and no one would know.

I was so happy that I had gotten to go on this trip with the boys, but boy was I happy to be going home after this game. Going from Calgary to Vancouver had been a blur, and the two days in between games had been mostly just resting. We did spend some of the first day there enjoying the sights, but the next day I was just too tired.

The plan was to fly home right after the game was over against the Canucks, which sounded good to me. I wasn't super excited to be stuck on a plane over night, but at least I would be back in my own bed before 6am. I was exhausted and completely out of it during the first 2 periods. My nose had gotten stuffed up, and my whole face just hurt.

I had a really bad feeling that with all this traveling I had gotten sick, which was the last thing I was going to want to deal with when we got home, but at least we would be home for that. The boys would be home for a week before having to fly out to Vegas, which they had invited me to, but unless I was feeling better by then I wasn't sure that was a good idea or not.

The third period flew by, my eyes half open the whole time. Thankfully the boys won this one too, making it two in a row. I gathered up all of my things, grabbing a bottle of water and drinking half of it before making it downstairs to wait for the boys.

I leaned against the wall in the hallway, yawning as I watched the door open and close as people walked in and out. I grabbed my purse off of my shoulder and started to dig through some of the pockets, trying to find some medicine to take before getting on the plane so the travel wouldn't be as bad and I could just sleep the whole way.

"Babe?" I heard Tyler's voice call out as he made his way across the hall.

I glanced up at him, pulling out the medicine that I found and gave him a small smile. "Congrats on the game babe," I said softly as I opened the pill packet and my water bottle.

"Noo you don't feel well do you?" Tyler's face fell as he placed the back of his hand against my forehead. "You don't feel hot at least."

I sighed and popped the cold medicine in my mouth and took a big gulp of water to wash them down. I nodded and leaned forward, resting my head against Tyler's chest.

"Aw baby," Tyler sighed and rubbed my back. "I'm sorry you got sick," he said softly, pressing his lips to the top of my head. "We'll head out to the bus soon and then you can get some rest on the flight back home okay?"

I nodded, closing my eyes, just listening to the sounds going on around us. I soon heard Jamie's voice above me as well, asking Tyler if I was okay. His hand joined Tyler's in rubbing my back once he found out that I didn't feel well.

"I'm sorry princess," Jamie whispered into my ear, pressing a quick kiss to my temple before moving to grab my purse off my shoulder to carry it for me. "Lets go out to the bus so you don't have to stand anymore," Jamie said, leading both Tyler and I outside.

I huddled closer to Tyler as the cold air hit us once we stepped outside. Tyler wrapped his arms around me tightly, trying to shield me from the wind as we made the short walk to the bus.

"The bus ride to the airport wont be too long, and then it'll take about 4 hours to get back home to Dallas. Then we can go home and curl up with the pups okay?" Tyler said we stepped onto the stairs, heading up into the bus.

I just nodded as I made my way towards the back, following Jamie. Jamie sat down first, I followed in next to him, and Tyler took up the aisle seat. The next thing I knew Tyler was helping me out of the bus, walking across the tarmac to the plane where he got me settled in my seat.

I was in and out of it the whole plane ride, waking up every now and then to get a sip of water because my throat was starting to hurt. I looked at my phone to see what time it was, realizing that we only had about 20 minutes left in the flight thankfully.

As soon as we got back home I slowly made my way into the house, stopping to pet the dogs for a second before I crawled onto the couch, pulling the blanket down over me. Tyler sighed, kissing my cheek before going to look for medicine in our bathroom upstairs.

"Hey," Jamie said softly, kneeling on the floor in front of me.

I opened my eyes and gave him a sleepy smile. "Hey," I said, my voice crackly.

"Aww princess," Jamie sighed, kissing my forehead. "I'm so sorry you got sick," he whispered as he pushed the hair out of my face.

"S'okay," I said, closing my eyes again.

Tyler came back downstairs, bringing the box of medicine and some tissues. I had a feeling we were going to be camped out in the living room for the next few days. It was nice in here though, the ambiance of the Christmas tree in the corner of the room, and the fireplace that Tyler would most likely turn on once he made sure I was comfortable for the night.

I sat up a bit to take my medicine, sneezing before I laid back down, groaning. "Fuck," I laughed and shook my head.

"Well.. I'm going to go home so I don't bother you tonight," Jamie said, getting up from where he had moved to on the couch, seated by my feet.

"Wait," I pouted, reaching out for him.

He knelt back down in front of me, taking my hands.

"I don't want you to go," I whined.

Jamie looked over his shoulder at Tyler who smiled and nodded at him. "You know you are welcome to stay dude."

"Okay, I wont go," Jamie said as he turned back to me and smiled.

"Good," I mumbled. "I need cuddles."

Jamie looked back at Tyler again and Tyler just shook his head. "I gotta take the dogs out and feed them and take care of our suitcases. You can be on cuddle duty tonight, I'll get tomorrow night."

"You sure?" Jamie asked.

"Yes," Tyler laughed. "I'm sure," Tyler said, leaning down and pressing his lips to the top of my head. "Get some rest baby," he said before whistling to the dogs to go take them outside.

"Let me go get changed real quick and then I will cuddle you all night okay?" Jamie said softly, looking into my eyes.

"Okay," I nodded. Once Jamie had gotten up I reached for the remote on the table, turning on the TV to some random station that was playing old Christmas movies. I turned the volume down low so it was mostly just background noise, and waited for Jamie to get back.

It wasn't long before he was back, wearing a pair of sweatpants and that was it. I smiled up at him as I scooted over a bit, letting him slip in behind me on the couch, pulling the blanket over him as well. He wrapped his arm around me, tangling our legs together like we always did when we would cuddle.

"Hey Brooke?" Jamie whispered after a few minutes.

I opened my eyes when I heard Jamie's voice, blinking a couple times trying to stay awake. "Yeah?"

"Sorry.. I didn't mean to wake you I just.. I'm really glad that you are in my life."

I smiled, pulling Jamie's arm closer to me, leaning down to kiss his hand. "I'm glad you are in my life too," I said softly.

It wasn't long before I could feel the medicine kicking in and sleep was taking me over. I yawned and closed my eyes, finally surrendering to rest, knowing that I was going to need a lot of it over the next few days so that I could get better.

I was pretty sure that I had fallen asleep at this point, but I thought I felt Jamie's lips press a kiss to the spot right behind my ear before hearing a very faint whispered "I love you."

[zhenyakatava]

risch family + 0/3 siblings

this is going to be a pretty simple request for mason risch’s older siblings. i’m going to put the max number at 3 but... tbh there’s no set number. if you have someone that might fit/looks the part then feel free to ask and i’m 99.99% likely to add them in anyway. you can run any faces / names / whatever by me, i’ll probs be fine with it! ages should range from 24-30 maybe. those are all the basics so! let’s get this bread ladies and gents!

the risch family is mostly reminiscent of the klein family from big little lies but, in truth, takes on a bit of sharp objects because their mom is... very intense. kind of crazy. way overbearing. full of love! depends on who you ask!

nancy burke and nolan risch grew up in the same suburb of cincinnati and were high school sweethearts. they did the whole thing, homecoming king and queen their senior year, and when nolan decided to go off to ohio state for college, nancy followed. they got an off-campus apartment and nancy got her real estate certification while nolan studied engineering. they had their first kid (arguably an accident but that’s only according to wine-drunk nancy after a particularly terrible christmas eve, when the oldest risch kid showed up to the family white elephant with red eyes and wouldn’t stop laughing the angrier and angrier nancy got. that year, christmas was effectively ruined) before nolan graduated, but they held it together. they rushed down the aisle so they wouldn’t disgrace their family with an out-of-wedlock oops baby and, when nolan graduated and got a job in nevada, they up and moved. 

a couple more kids later and both nancy and nolan were established in their respective careers. they all got settled into a big suburban house outside of las vegas (far enough from the sin but close enough that nolan could still go in on the weekends to gamble and definitely not motorboat strippers). from the outside, they’re the total package, the perfect family. 

from the inside....... Not Quite. nolan’s always been quiet, complacent, the type of dad that was sort of cool when they were little but never learned that kids’ interests change as they grew up. their parents never kissed growing up, nolan slept in the guest bedroom about a fourth of the time, and nancy constantly demeaned her husband. nancy was always a good mom, came to every event they ever had and involved herself in every aspect of their life, but... she also involved herself in every aspect of their lives. she had this habit of prying into their personal lives and getting weirdly invested, butting into conflicts with their peers, etc etc. like... nancy would hysterically cry over THEIR personal drama. and god forbid they ever made a mistake that other people could find out about, rUiNiNg ThEiR iMaGe??? Yikes. 

what’s worse was that the kids were never really close to each other as a whole (obviously the ones who were closer in age might have been, but mason was... not... at all) and a lot of the time, they had to snitch on each other to gain favor with their psycho mom. i’m sure this probably caused a lot of animosity between them that could be fun to play out!!! 

this is getting long and i’m lazy BUT basically feel free to go any path you want if you take one of them. they can work at the ~family business~ aka real estate, or they can have their own job and try to avoid the family at all costs. regardless, masons’s back babieeee and he needs somewhere to focus his energy and it Might just be reconnecting with his siblings! 👀

[7wanderingpaws]

8. He Knows. (Another Life)

Genre: soulmate / magic AU

Pairing: Jackson x reader

Word Count: 4.9K

Song: Mazzy Star - Fading Into You

Synopsis: You are more than happy in relationship with Jackson Wang, the hard-working and successful fencer representing Hong Kong. So what happens when you visit a local witch wanting to know more about your future as a couple? Because you always knew he was the right one for you. Even in another life. But would he really be the one?

*** 1. // 2. // 3. // 4. // 5. // 6. // 7-1. // 7.2 // 8. // 9. // 10. // 11.

(( Enjoy! It is one of those longer chapters. There will be altogether 10 parts, so two more to come <3 ))

- - - He Knows - - -

You went to an old café that was quiet and had only a few people in them, most of them working on their laptops. Nobody was paying any attention to you and you couldn't be more relieved.

The steaming cup of chamomile tea was suddenly more interesting than the man sitting opposite you with an iced coffee. You had to smile inside your heart - he always preferred iced beverages since he was feeling half of the time too hot.

"Y/N," Jackson started gently, his eyes soft.

Pressing your lips together, you dared to lift your gaze. You've been craving to hear your name from his mouth. You felt so scared at what he was going to say you could barely keep your attention up.

"I'm not really sure how to start or what to say," he laughed quietly. Wow. So charming. "I don't want to sound stupid-"

"Just say whatever is on your mind."

"You're not an ordinary fan."

That stopped you. What was that supposed to mean? Not an ordinary fan... As in... He thought you were a fan?

"I weirdly remembered your face from the hi-touch event last year. You attended it, right?" he added quickly, suddenly unsure of his own mingled memories.

You nodded. "Yes, I did. Your brain works well."

He smiled. "Okay, I'm glad."

Silence. Awkward.

"You think I followed you?" you asked, cupping the hot cup.

"Followed? Where to?"

"Ehm, didn't you just say that I'm a fan of yours?"

Jackson was totally out of his cool. Maybe it wasn't visible, but he was shaking inside. "Did I? Well, I guess I just wanted to surprise you with this coffee meeting..."

You didn't understand. If he thought you were his fan, why would he want to talk to you at a peaceful place? How on earth would he know your name? Why would he even bother to chase after you in front of the restaurant? Is this how superstars these days work? You doubted that. He must be too busy for this kind of fanservice.

"I am not your fan, Jackson."

There. It was out. Tears were threatening once again because you couldn't keep this distant, formal attitude towards him. You wanted to go home and cuddle- oh wait. You couldn't. Because the person who was your home was a stranger now sitting in front of you. 

You swallowed harshly, your throat burning.

"Then how come-"

"I'm so sorry," you interrupted. "I don't know what you want but I have to go."

The truth was you were so embarrassed about the entire situation and your own feelings towards him. There was no point. It was obvious he was just-

"No, no, please," he said, his hand reaching out to stop you. "Please."

You slowly sat back.

Was this the moment to tell him? Were you supposed to tell him how you felt and what happened? God. You felt so uncomfortable. As 99.99% of you was hoping he would recognise you and share your feelings with you, the disappointment was quite big and overwhelming. Your life had no meaning.

"You said you knew me," you tried. "Do you know me from your fan sign?"

"Hi-touch," he corrected, not meeting your gaze. "I don't really know how to say this."

"Jackson," you whispered. "Do you, by any chance, have feelings for me?"

Jackson didn't show any signs of recognition. Weirdly, this time he was fighting hard to calm his beating heart.

You shook your head when he wouldn't reply right away. "Forget it. Oh my god, how embarrassing," you said, once again standing up and grabbing your bag.

Jackson was on his feet straight away, stopping you. He was standing in front of you, holding your arms at shoulder length. "I do. I don't know how but I do and I know you and I know who you are and what you are doing and..."

You held your breath. Your heart was thundering inside of you, your knees giving out underneath you, your hands shaking uncontrollably. 

His eyes were shifting between yours frantically, in obvious rush to explain his crazy thoughts to your shocked face. “I know that you are a doctor... I-I was kind of looking for you in the hospital,” he breathed out shakily, scratching his neck in obvious embarrassment and discomfort. “You weren’t there and I thought I was going crazy because I just kept having these dreams...”

You painfully gulped needing to hold him. However, you restrained from reaching out. He was here now, standing. Oh my god. He was going through the same as you. He loved you. He had feelings for you. Jesus.

“I am not a doctor,” you managed to say, still keeping the intense eye contact. If anyone had a knife, they could slice the air with it, it was so tensed. You shook your head and smiled. “Unfortunately, I am not.”

He looked confused. “Then how come-”

You sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything more than you.” You sat down again and Jackson did as well taking the seat next to you, relieved you wouldn’t run away from him. “I saw you accidentally on the TV when my friend wanted to show me GOT7. Since then I am almost always having flashbacks of...” your throat went dry as you looked at the abandoned cup, “of our previous life.”

Jackson had such confusing thoughts and feelings that he wanted to keep slapping himself. But he wouldn’t lie if he admitted how over the moon he was when you had the same thoughts as him. You were so close before and now both of you seemed super awkward. He didn’t know what to do.

“Is this normal by any chance?” tried Jackson, leaning on the table with his elbows. “I mean... From some flashbacks I know you went to see a witch.”

You looked into his eyes in surprise. Oh wow, he truly knew those things. “I went to see her two years ago, actually. I needed answers,” you said sheepishly, blushing.

Jackson gave you a soft smile. “Since when is it happening to you? Have you had it all your life?”

You shook your head, your wavy hair dangling. “No, no way. As I said, only a few years.”

He let out a quiet sigh. Only a few years. God, how must that have been when already one year was driving him crazy? “So you travelled all the way to US just to find answers... You never studied at Stanford?”

“No. I wouldn’t be able to afford it even if I would aspire to become a student there. But I guess you might know what a shitty feeling it is to wake up missing something you never knew, so I thought...” you pursed your lips, trying to word your thoughts nicely, “I thought I was the one at fault. If I wouldn’t have gone to the witch that day in Cali, maybe we would still be in the previous life, together.”

You kept quiet about the fact that it wasn’t, indeed, your fault. How was it possible to let him know that he was unhappy and both of you had to relive your lives over again without ever knowing each other so that he could become a successful artist like he always wanted to?

Jackson hastily nodded, fidgeting with his fingers nervously. “Did you find any meaningful answers?”

“Not really,” you lowered your head. “I mean... the witch did recognise me, she knew everything that happened but she couldn’t tell me proper reasons and answers.”

Lie. Lie. Lie.

“I see. So I guess it isn’t anything special then?”

Your heart dropped, a little too painfully. Looking up, you gave the stranger a pressed smile. “Probably not.”

Silence fell over you as both of you were deep in thoughts, contemplating what to say. Neither of you wanted to sound desperate or pushy and so neither of you asked about the next steps you should make.

“Where do you work now?” tried Jackson kindly.

Grabbing the cup with an almost cold chamomile tea, you said: “I’m actually just finishing my masters. With my degree, I guess an accountant would be the most suitable.”

“You don’t sound very excited?” laughed quietly Jackson, analysing your body language. You seemed tensed.

You took a sip. Yep, the tea was indeed cold now. “What can I say? It was the only reasonable way to deal with my future.”

Jackson nodded. That didn’t answer much and despite his own liking, many questions and curiosities were popping up in his mind. He did want to know more about you, since there was a mysterious aura around you. Nothing about you was the same as he remembered. Being almost coldly reserved, he didn’t dare to push you too much with questions

You also nodded. So this was the moment you wanted long ago and yet here you were, unable to muster up some normal conversational points that could make you two grow closer to each other. Weirdly, Jackson was still extremely out-going but something was bugging his mind because of which he kept being quiet. He didn’t change that much.

“Do you speak Korean well now?” you asked, feeling cringy at the stupid question.

He let out a breathy laugh. “Yea, I guess! I mean, I’m still not the best, Korean is not easy at all. But I can survive by now.”

“You still speak other cool languages, so you’re fine,” you teased with a broad smile.

Just for a second, Jackson forgot to breathe when he saw your toothy grin aimed at him. It was such a short moment of surprise, you didn’t notice at all. “True. Chinese is quite useful so I can’t really complain.”

“Oh right. Your Chinese is so good now. Good for you. You do work hard, Jackson,” you exclaimed gently, watching him intently.

“Oh, enough about me. Do you want another tea? Or anything else?” he asked eagerly, already turning to go and order. 

Your hand stopped him. “Oh, no way, thank you. I should go.”

He froze, his eyes big as he was looking at you. “Wait, already? I mean, I understand...” he trailed off, scratching his neck. “Sorry I interrupted your date.”

No! It was not a date! You wanted to shout but what could you say? Another lie? “It's alright. It wasn’t important anyway.”

Jackson was observing you for a moment before he nodded. “Right.”

Silence.

Turning on your chair, you grabbed your jacket and stood up so you could put it on before you felt the jacket being taken away from you and someone else helping you slide your arms into it. Jackson was careful not to touch you even by accident.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You turned to face him and his hands adjusted your collar with a focused frown. Then his eyes snapped at you.

“No problem. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

Your throat went dry as a sudden wave of emotions overtook you. What’s going to happen now? 

“I don’t know,” murmured Jackson gently.

You yelped quietly when you realised you said the question out loud. 

“I don’t know but do you think we could exchange at least numbers?” he suggested, a slight blush creeping into his cheeks.

Your heart was beating fast as you nodded, trying to type your number into his phone with shaky fingers before he took it from you and you dictated him the number. He smirked, entertained with your imbalance. 

I missed you. I missed you so much. Please, don’t go. Stay just for a little longer.

“Thanks. I’ll keep this one safe as a treasure. I also hope you won’t give it out to anyone,” he said, embarrassed again.

“Of course not. I guess you have to change numbers quite frequently anyway.” In which case I will lose the contact on you pretty quickly, you added in your mind.

“Yes, that part kind of sucks.”

You both laughed, both of you standing closer to each other. Other customers could imagine you just shared a sweet little secret that made both of you giggle. 

As you calmed down, you smiled once again. “Then, I’ll take my leave.” 

You bowed your head slightly, feeling stupid at this formal attitude once again when all you ever knew was how to be silly with him and do all the possible things a man and a woman can do. 

You wondered when will be the next time your paths would cross as you were now outside on the quiet dark street, trying to catch a cab home. 

It was rather sooner than later because a car pulled up at the curb and the window was rolled down. You were surprised to see Jackson as the driver, his brother who asked you for the nappies in the restaurant on the passenger seat and baby giggles coming from the backseat, most probably from baby Aimee.

“We will take you home,” winked Jackson at you and he nodded his head to the backseat. “Unless you truly hate children, but I don’t recall you do.”

You gave out an amused laugh and in your heels rushed around the back of the car to sit next to the cute little baby. As you closed the door behind you, Jackson made sure you are all good before taking off self-confidently.

He was always a good, skilful driver so you weren’t feeling even a little bit unsafe.

Aimee was looking up at you with big, curious eyes and you couldn’t believe she was actually there next to you after knowing her from different circumstances.

“I wasn’t even aware that you and Jackson know each other,” said Winston from the front, laughing. “It would have been such a shame if you guys didn’t meet each other at the restaurant.”

You fell silent, not knowing how to respond. Instead, you just laughed and agreed cheerfully, just like Jackson was.

“We know each other since high school,” blurted out Jackson, seemingly surprised at his own words. He immediately shut up, preferring to pay attention to the road (although his eyes kept stealing glances at you in the rear-view mirror).

“Right, that’s true,” you agreed once again. Your entire insides were heating up, needing you to cross your legs. God. 

Winston, however, didn’t notice anything. “That’s amazing. Then I guess it was just meant to happen.”

Now, you were totally out, without a single doubt. Your eyes accidentally met with Jackson's in the mirror, and he quickly averted them, coughing loudly in the process.

Yes, Jackson, make it less awkward for us.

Entertaining Aimee was what you found more convenient at that moment.

Shanghai, China, 2016

It was almost New Years time. Everything was festive, everything was bright and everything was quite cold. 

As you were smiling at the toddler in front of you, you felt someone pushing something down your head.

“Don’t move, or else it won’t fit, baby Y/N,” said Jackson in a child-like voice from above. He pressed the heavy knit sweater down your head making you look like a ghost.

Aimee started to giggle at the sight, clapping her chubby little hands.

Jackson took one of your hands to slide one arm, then the other through the sleeves. After he was finished, he made sure to comb your hair with his long fingers. He pushed some strands behind your ear and eventually patted you, sitting down next to you to give you a loud kiss on the cheek. “I can’t have my girl freezing.”

The butterflies in your stomach came alive as you looked at him. Aimee was still happily talking in her own baby language when you grabbed Jackson's face to squish it and eventually give him a kiss on the lips. “My man is always taking good care of me.”

He smiled as he leaned in for another kiss.

“Tu-tu-tu-tu.”

“Right,” you both murmured, separating from each other before you could let your passionate side show in front of a few months old baby.

“What should we do with you, hm?” asked Jackson, placing his hands on his hips. “Mummy and daddy are gone, grandma and grandpa are gone. You are stuck with these weirdos in their twenties who have no idea about kids.”

You snickered, taking the baby girl out of her little seat and to hold her. She seemed quite satisfied in your arms, not fidgeting. “She is a good girl, we can manage.” You kissed the top of her head.

Jackson took out his iPhone and aimed it at you, making pictures.

“No, babe, I look super bad today,” you whined, reaching out to take it away from him.

He let out an exceptionally loud, high-pitched scream as he avoided your contact. “No, I’m saving these because you both look gorgeous,” he said in a fake British accent which made you giggle.

Aimee was just looking up at you until her hands reached out to caress your neck. Very quickly they found your breasts under the thick sweater and bra. She squeezed hardly, already pushing her tiny face into your chest.

Your eyebrows skyrocketed upwards in surprise along with Jackson before he burst out into fit of laughters.

“Oh, no, Aimee darling, I’m not mama,” you said quickly, trying to gently push her away so you could grab her little bottle with mother's milk Winston's wife left behind.

Jackson however recovered and ran to the kitchen to get the needed food. “I'll warm it up,” shouted Jackson from the kitchen. 

You managed to stand up, Aimee still grabbing your breasts. You followed your love. “Babe, don’t forget to heat it up-”

“In the water, yes, I know, baby,” he said with a cheeky smile as he was filling up the dish with appropriate amount of water before placing it on the stove to warm it up. He looked at you and how you kept giggling at Aimee's actions.

“Aimee, come to uncle. We shouldn’t scare Y/N that much about babies just yet,” he said as he reached out for the baby girl. As she was taken by Jackson, her face scrunched up and started to wail. Loudly. Into Jackson's chest. 

“Oh no, just a little bit longer, darling,” said Jackson caressing her head lovingly. “Your milk will be all yours. You don’t have to share with us, okay?”

Your heart swelled at the sight as you were adjusting your shirt. The sight of Jackson with kids was always giving you a special amount of fluttering butterflies in your stomach. There was something about him caring so much about the little life in his hands, how he looked at them with endearing eyes. 

He was looking at you now, smirking. “What is it, babe? Cat stole your tongue?”

You shook your head and rushed to put the baby's bottle into the warm water. “I got carried away.”

“Wow, do I look so handsome?”

You looked behind your shoulder at his cheeky smile and he gave you a seductive wink before he changed to a cute puppy for baby Aimee. You sighed, turning your attention to the bottle. Damn him.

The milk was ready and you and Jackson sat down on the big comfy couch, Aimee being back in your embrace. You held up the bottle for her and she almost choked, she was sucking so fast. You laughed loudly. She would still keep her face close to your chest though.

“Little angel,” you whispered and leaned back into Jackson's side.

He had an arm around you as he was watching the baby, also bewitched.

“What did you mean when you said you didn’t want to scare me with babies just yet?” you quipped quietly as Aimee's eyes were drooping.

Jackson looked at your side profile. “Just as I said it.” He nuzzled his head into your neck and gave you a little kiss. “I know it’s beautiful to have kids, especially with the one you really love,” he rasped as you turned your head to look at him, “but I know it can be scary for women who are not interested in having kids yet.”

You nodded, observing his face. “Look at you, being all thoughtful as always.”

He gave you a handsome smile and squeezed your back. “She is almost sleeping now.”

You both fell silent. Aimee was just about to finish her milk but she was heavily sleeping. 

“I would love to have your kids,” you whispered after some while.

Jackson froze, his heart beating super fast despite being unable to move at the electricity that thundered through his body at the idea.

“I hope we will have our own family one day,” you continued. 

He gulped, but his throat was dry. He looked at the sleeping baby, then at the arms holding her and eventually at your face that was focused elsewhere.

He grabbed your face gently not to wake the baby, and turned your face to kiss you. You smiled and opened your mouth to let him in as he quickened the kiss, showing you his sudden urge. “You are the only woman I can imagine having my kids.”

You giggled silently as he bit your lower lip. He played with your lips before he pushed his tongue in, making you whimper silently. You wanted to wrap your hands around his neck but the sleeping baby wouldn’t let you.

“Let’s put her in her crib,” suggested Jackson into your lips. You leaned in to steal one more kiss before you sat up carefully.

“Are you okay with holding her?” asked Jackson, standing up.

You smiled at him, nodding. “Yes.”

Once you managed to put her safely into her place, you made sure you leave the empty bottle in her hands. You knew better than to take things they loved from them. Anything to make them sleep.

As soon as you were free, Jackson was grabbing your hand, pulling you towards the guests’ bedroom where you stayed. “We have got business to finish,” he whispered into your ear.

Your insides churned, making your knees go weak.

“Or you know what? Screw that. The house is ours now,” he said suddenly, pushing you into the nearby wall. For a moment you were surprised but once you felt his neck kisses, you moaned grabbing his face to have those lips for yourself. “Keep it quiet, we don’t want to wake the baby, do we,” murmured Jackson and sinfully grabbed your butt, hoisting up. You wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Then take me to the bedroom already,” you breathed feverishly. “I swear today I don’t want to hold back.”

Jackson moaned at the simple thought, making his way to the bedroom right away.

Neither of you knew exactly what your heated moment was about. Whether it was the peacefully sleeping baby in the other room or just the pure love for each other, the important thing was that you had each other.

Hong Kong, 2016

 Winston insisted that he and Aimee should be dropped off first before Jackson would take you home. Jackson is taking me home, you thought. What a surreal feeling. 

At first you weren’t sure what to say to him as both of you were alone once again.

“You still live at your old place, right?” asked Jackson as he was making his way through the dense traffic. What a curse for Hong Kong. Even at midnight there was traffic.

“No,” you answered, looking out the window at cheerful people. Just then you realised that you lived in a rather shabby area in Kowloon. You preferred Jackson not seeing it. He must have had all the luxurious things at the moment, he would immediately judge-

You stopped yourself right there. If, by any chance, Jackson was the same person that you knew, he wouldn’t judge you, nor anyone. He never judged, unless someone would hit their mother. Yup, that would set him off for sure.

You told him the address and he nodded, trying to hide the shock. 

“How are your parents doing?” he asked as if nothing happened.

“Thank you, they are okay,” you answered, trying to be as short as possible about them. “Do you know there is this awesome park up the hill that-”

“gives amazing view of the city?” he finished, shooting you an exciting look.

You smiled, nodding. “Yes, I actually discovered it recently and I fell in love with it right away.”

Ugh. You wanted the ride to be over so much. The stupid small talk was not working for you; you preferred silence over words that meant nothing.

Thankfully, the entire ride was filled with Jackson's cheerful remarks about surrounding parks of Hong Kong that not many people knew about. Phew. You could just enjoy his voice that you missed oh so dearly. His raspy, deep voice that had a unique colouring made you feel relaxed. Videos made zero justice to his voice in real life.

Once he stopped the car in front of one of the gazillion apartment houses, the car fell into silence that was too loud as the purring of the motor was absent.

“Thank you so much,” you spilled, unfastening your belt. “I really appreciate the bother all the way here. You must be tired anyway.”

“It was absolutely my pleasure, Y/N,” he said, his head turned towards you. 

You pressed your lips together. “I'll get going now.” Your throat, without your permission, tightened, emotions overwhelming you. Now was the time to say your final goodbyes. “I’m glad we got to talk. I wish your parents good health and to you all the best with your music career.”

You gave him one last smile before any of your tears could fall. Opening the door, you got out of the car and closed the door behind yourself. Walking across the empty street you realised he hadn’t even said anything.

Oh well. He must have been happy to be finally free from you.

You heard quick steps behind your back, your heart racing for a second thinking it was a thief when Jackson appeared in front of you, making you stop abruptly.

“Y/N,” he breathed.

“Yes, Jackson?” you looked up at him.

Jackson had a flashback. What happened that time in the bathroom when he kissed you and it wasn’t even real. He was scared you were not real either this time. That’s why he just stared into your eyes intently, figuring out what to do next.

“I don’t know if I want you to leave me just yet,” he said finally. “There is something...” he huffed throwing his hands around. “Are you real?” he asked.

You were confused. “What do you mean?”

“Are you real? This is not another vision, right?” asked Jackson, hungry for answers, desperate for reality to be true. 

“Yes, I am. I am me. You are you,” you said, observing his face. 

His hands fell to his sides as he took a step closer to you. You didn’t even flinch, daring to look up into his eyes boldly. His face was dark because the street lamp was right behind him and he still looked so enchanting to you, with that blonde hair pushed back out of his strong face. You quietly anticipated his next step when he reached out his hand ever so carefully in case it would scare you away. When you didn’t move, he touched your cheek, the gentlest of the gentle. 

“I found you,” he whispered and you closed your hurting eyes, letting the tears roll down your flushed cheeks. “We finally found each other.”

You swallowed harshly, opening your eyes to find his face a little closer to yours. You held your breath, your insides burning. 

“Can I -” he stopped and his eyes fell to your lips. “Is it okay to kiss you? Just so I can make sure you are truly real,” he murmured and your knees almost gave out.

“Please,” you whimpered. You wanted him to come closer, to lean in, to make the first move. You were waiting for so long, you desperately needed him to do all of it, just so you knew it was with his own will, with his own mind.

And then, it happened.

The magic.

The click.

The stars aligned.

The world made sense.

Jackson kissed you. His fingers tangled in your hair as he pulled you closer, capturing your lower lip in the most sensual way. He knew all the details about you, and you knew exactly how he would do it. When you bended, he adjusted. When he straightened, you hugged. It was all so perfectly thought out there was no match like that in the world.

You let out a satisfied breath and you swore you could hear fireworks in the back. Or it was just the explosions in your stomach. How would you know, when the man you loved, you longed for was finally watering you with his passion, his own emotions.

The Gobi desert was nothing compared to you and Jackson. But now, finally together, it felt as if batteries have been charged, all the green returned to the dead trees, the flowers were blooming and even the dead souls were cheering in your favour. It literally...

Clicked.

Jackson pulled away, giving you a final kiss, making you giggle. You held his hands for dear life but he wouldn’t have let go of them anyway.

“Y/N,” he said quietly. 

You smiled up at him. You were alight, you were shining, you were radiating. 

“I can’t stay with you,” he said finally.

And with that, the magic was broken.

- - - continue - - -