#but i won’t get into that cause i know loads of people have STRONG opinions on that

[mirandimoo]

once again thinking about how aki’s character is one of, if not the most tragic character i have come across in any media i have ever consumed in my life.

like guys you don’t understand, i’m not saying this from a ‘csm stan’ pov or anything i’m saying it from a literary standpoint AND as a media production major like yes objectively speaking he is the most tragic of tragic characters i have ever come across in any story. like from his childhood to his adult life it was all hell and trauma and after spending his whole life with nothing to dedicate himself to other than revenge, he finally found something worth protecting in denji and power so much so that the thing he spent his whole life chasing after suddenly didn’t matter because he had a little family now and that was enough for him. going through all of this only to then become the very thing you feared the worst and to be taken out by the hands of the person you cared for the most in the world. afterwards there’s no one to properly mourn you, aside from the one who took your life. everyone else is gone and the guy you cared so deeply for that you were willing to give up your life’s mission to protect has to now navigate the world with your blood on his hands, forever stained by the regret of not only killing you, but never even getting to say a proper goodbye. he’s had so much thrown onto him now that he doesn’t have time to properly grieve you and power. but no, for him your death is even worse than hers in retrospect. because there’s still a small glimmer of hope, no matter how faint, that some day she’ll come back. and that hope is so important to hold on tightly to, it’s enough of a reason to keep moving forward, to keep living. but you… oh you. for you there is no coming back. no second chances, no glimmer of hope for a happy ending. just pain. just death, anger, and so much pain. so instead of grieving properly and moving on, he’ll forever be stuck in this limbo of self hate, grief, and guilt that’ll end up with him just hurting himself physically and mentally over and over and over again. sort of how you acted in your own life... it’s kind of ironic is it not? that even in death all you do is hurt those you love, and not only fail to protect them, but deal them a fate even worse by actively being the reason they hurt. a fate worse than death it seems. and although when told it, you didn’t want to believe it, you honestly did die in the worst possible way imaginable.

[artful-aries]

Arguing With Them (Tighnari, Diluc, Beidou)

I am back after a hellish week in the trenches of corporate offices. I don’t even make enough to be considered white collar but I sure do gotta pull out the stops for corporate America. Anyway cooked up something after an idea I had on my business trip, enjoy!

Tighnari

It’s actually remarkably easy to get into arguments with him. Not that every argument is extreme or anything like that, but he is prone to bickering with those close to him and you are no exception

Arguments with him could spark over anything; whether he’s lecturing you on how best to take care of yourself while you traverse the forests of Sumeru, complaining about the mess you may or may not have caused in his herb supply, or on the rare occasion debating over philosophical beliefs

Tighnari is incredibly stubborn and won’t back down from a conversation that threatens to spill into an argument no matter what

This isn’t to say that he’s arrogant and thinks he’s always right, but he is extremely strong willed and isn’t willing to concede on many things, especially if they involve someone’s health or morals

His irritation will be blatantly obvious; his eyes are sharp as knives, and his ears and tail twitch involuntarily as he listens to your side of things

Even when extremely irritated with you, Tighnari is never going to raise his voice or stoop to insulting you. Though he disagrees with your point of view, the argument will never escalate more than a heated debate. The Akademiya gave him loads of practice with discussing topics with people he vehemently disagreed with in a classy way

Because of this, you will never feel threatened by his anger. Even when his hands clench or he takes a deep, agitated breath, there is never any negative energy emanating from him that would make you feel like he might snap and potentially hurt you

That being said, he isn’t going to mince his words during the argument. If he thinks what you’re saying is illogical or rash, he will not hesitate to tell you as such

It’s not that Tighnari doesn’t care about your feelings, because he definitely cares when he sees how much his words hurt you sometimes. Tighnari just would rather be completely honest with you rather than holding his thoughts back

Dishonesty eventually leads to seeds of doubt, which bloom into flowers of resentment. The last thing he wants is for your relationship with him to dissolve simply because he chose to not tell you everything that he was thinking

Because of the debate-like structure of arguments with him, it’s actually easy to deescalate the situation, especially if you tell him that his words upset and hurt you

This won’t make Tighnari change his firm opinions about whatever you were arguing about, but he will definitely take the time to reassure and comfort you if you’re upset. Couples don’t have to agree on everything, so he doesn’t want you to feel like arguments with him mean that he’s done with you

Diluc

For someone with a Pyro Vision, arguments with him start out very cold and distant. He avoids eye contact, adjusts his coat or his gloves almost obsessively, and his tone is flat and to the point

You will likely be the one to start arguments, more than likely criticizing how little time he spends with you, or perhaps how secretive he is with some of his whereabouts He still hasn’t found the right time to admit that he is the Darknight Hero

In an effort to not make you worry and to try and smother the flames of his own guilt, Diluc will initially be a bit dismissive of the argument, or try to avoid it entirely

He knows it isn’t the healthiest way to deal with things, but it’s quick and it works for a time. The guilt in his chest grows each time he does this, but he doesn’t know how to come clean

It’s not until you corner him and demand that he address your concerns that the fire is brought out of him. He can’t help but snap back at you, the pressure he’s putting himself under as well as the stress of disappointing you coming to a head

When you flinch at his unintentional booming voice, Diluc is crushed with even more guilt as he takes deep breaths to calm himself. The last thing he wants to do is lose his temper, especially toward you

He will make a point to keep his voice calm and quiet as possible so he doesn’t appear as intimidating, asking you to forgive him for lashing out

From there, the argument deescalates into a normal conversation about how you have been feeling about his behavior as of late

Diluc will do his best to address all of your concerns, or at least explain why he can’t waver in his choices or opinions

He isn’t the best at conveying how he feels, but he makes a point to hold your hand throughout the entire discussion. It serves as a silent promise to always stand by your side no matter what hardships come up

Beidou

Fights with her occur at a moderate amount, and are often very loud. It’s not that she’s yelling at you, per se, it’s more that she’s just yelling because of how much she’s feeling

Arguments are rarely over something frivolous unless she is drunk, but her drunken arguments can be laughed off and quelled simply by putting her to bed. When she’s sober, arguments tend to be more serious, and a recurring topic of discussion is safety; both yours and hers

It’s almost like you two take turns being concerned for each other. This time you’re scolding her to be more careful with her and the crew of The Alcor, and the next she’s practically breathing down your neck for going to Luhua Pool without her escorting you.

It’s obvious that you two care for one another, and get very heated when the other party is too stubborn to listen

It doesn’t take long for Beidou to be loudly lecturing you about how you need to take her with you when you travel since you can’t fight, or insisting that she knows exactly what she’s doing and that you don’t have to worry about her

Your lecturing irks her because she feels like you don’t trust her, and vice versa. It’s a never ending cycle

If you were to react poorly to her raised voice, Beidou will immediately apologize and try to lower her volume, but in turn she will be frantically pacing back and forth as you two argue. She has to let out her emotions physically somehow, whether it’s projecting her voice or moving to work out the excess energy

She does her best to not make you nervous as you both argue, but she understands that her energy when she’s irritated or upset isn’t always ideal. If it seems too much for you, she will leave to get some air, telling you to wait for her until she comes back

After having some time to cook off, Beidou will come back with her usual calm, unbothered demeanor and apologize for getting so worked up.

From there, she’ll listen patiently to your concerns and voice her own, making sure to give you small reassuring smiles as the two of you sort out your troubles

You drive her nuts sometimes, but she cares so much for you and doesn’t want to let you go for the world

[winterwolf0916]

Quarrel

Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by anon: hi could you write to jason todd x reader that they fight but don't realize their baby is there? Thanks for the reply:) Warning: Language, mentions of divorce, angst, & fluff A/n: Goodness! This is a sweet request and oooo here comes the fluff! *throws a massive cloud* Forgive me with the writing mistakes here 🤧  wrote it at 4 am my dudes. Happy New Years my dears! Word count: 2.6K

You know Jason is strong. He really is. But there are moments, moments where he can be so reckless in patrol to the point where he could’ve lost his life. It happens so often that you promised yourself to be patient in this. Reminding yourself that he has his family, the Outlaws, and you to help him out in his missions. But last night made your patience snap like a thread. You were worried more than ever about his well being.

What if he doesn’t arrive in the morning?

What if he dies and leaves you and your son? 

What if-

Countless and countless thoughts radiated in your mind causing your body to weigh as more and more doubts formed. The sight of him huffing and puffing as he entered his and your apartment bloodied and beaten. You knew you were going to say something. Anything. You were fine with it at first since the job came with this. But more nights like these compressed your patience like a boot on a bug. 

‘He shouldn’t patrol alone’ you thought. You should go with him to make sure he’s being cautious. But you couldn’t. You needed to take care of your child.

After patching him up and laying in bed in silence back to back, you heard the springs of the bed cry as Jason left the mattress to retrieve something while hissing as if he’s trying to ignore the pain. After a few minutes, you gave up trying to sleep off your uncertainty and decided to talk to him. The conversation went from small suggestions and corrections into bickering and confusion. 

You didn’t mean to overstep boundaries. He didn’t mean to make you worry. But how he hides his pain is what frustrates you. How he would joke about the bullet wound in his shoulder didn’t bother him when playing in the park with Y/c/n. How he would flinch when Y/c/n hugs him after a hard patrol. 

“You know how dangerous it is to go downtown alone!” You raised your voice. “You could’ve died again!” 

“But I didn’t! Why don’t you trust me?!” 

It repeated like this, going back and forth, for a solid 15 minutes. But in the moment, it felt like hours. Yelling and spitting out words that are not even meant. Pointing who’s to blame, cutting each other off, and wanting your haunted opinions to be heard. Caught up in the heated situation that you didn’t realize your 10-year-old witnessing it all in the hallway in his pajamas. 

What's going on here? 

Why are they yelling?

Don’t they love each other anymore?

Are...are they getting a divorce?

He’s seen arguments here and there but it's a different level now. It’s bigger. The picture playing of anger and hatred boiling from his parents. His two favorite people in the world, showing distaste in one another. 

As a child, he doesn’t know what’s going on other than the air filled with loathe by the source of his parents. As a child, he felt the need to hug his parents and ask them about the situation. As a child, he felt his eye sockets sting and his mind not functioning of what was happening in front of him. 

-------

You were making lunch for your son trying to calm yourself from the argument that occurred hours ago. The fight didn’t go so well that you and Jason agreed to give one another space after he drops Y/c/n off at the bus stop. 

Jason left the living room to wake up Y/c/n for breakfast, acting strong from the awful wounds he received this morning. What confused you was the sound of his footsteps quicken.

“Y/c/n?! This isn’t funny!” There was shuffling in the room before Jason returned to the kitchen. “He’s not in his room.”

You both searched the entire apartment from top to bottom before searching the entire building. Finding no trace of your son made you two imagine the worst. The worst-case scenario and the last thing you would ever expect. Y/c/n being kidnapped. 

Quickly changing into your suits and heading to the roof to discuss who is going to check what part of Gotham, you found your son sitting at the edge of the rooftop, his back facing you. As his head turned towards the sound of the door barged open, your heart broke and Jason caught his breath at the sight of your child in tears.

“What the-” He quickly wiped his tears in shock, “Mr. Red Hood and Mrs. Y/H/N? Here on my apartment building?”

“Oh crap uh-Don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here.” Y/C/N added, using the hem of his sleeve to wipe his tears, trying to hide his released emotion and pushing down the temptation to fanboy in front of his favorite heroes. Not knowing, they are his parents behind the masks.

“Hey kid, why are you crying?” Jason asked, taking a couple steps forward while you followed.

“It’s really silly.” He sniffled, not wanting to look back. “My parents fought.”

You and Jason paused in your steps, not believing what came out of his mouth. ‘He saw us?’

“Oh…” 

“I know! Pretty embarrassing to say this to you guys.” 

“Oh no no! It’s not embarrassing at all.” You said.

“It’s ok to tell the truth. I really need it from Gotham’s second-best couple.”

“Hate to ask this, but who’s the first best couple?” Your husband asked. You nudged him, giving the ‘really?’ look.

“My parents of course.” You and Jason melted at the spot from hearing how much your son looked up to his parents’ relationship. “But I guess not, after last night.”

His face fell and lowered his head in defeat after mumbling the last sentence. You and Jason glanced in each other's direction silently making a truce and putting aside your differences before taking a seat next to Y/c/n.

“Is it normal for parents to fight really hard? Please tell me. You guys are my number one from now on.”

“Honey, people argue every day. It helps us to grow as a person and learn about our partner’s troubles and what's important to them...”

“Even if it’s little things or big things or the harsh words we said, it doesn’t matter. We still love each other. We just step on the wrong foot sometimes.” 

“Tell me about it, I remember bucket head over here accidentally left the sink on in our apartment. And guess what happened?”

“What?” Your son’s eyes were filled with curiosity while Jason cringed at the memory.

“It flooded our entire kitchen and I scolded him for an hour before he cleaned everything.”

“How long did it take Mr. Red hood to clean everything?”

“Two hours.” Y/c/n snorted but immediately became serious when he remembered who’s the other vigilante sitting right next to him.

“In my defense, I had to fight off Ra's Al Ghul for two weeks straight.”

“And?”

“Aaand, I wasn’t at total fault here.”

“It would’ve been better to not even open the sink at all!” 

“I was tired, woman!” Then you heard your own son snickering before letting out a burst of warm laughter. The kind of laughter that made you smile while Jason gave a smirk.

“Wow-uh thanks. You guys really sound like my parents.” Jason opened his mouth to say something before you heard a hiss of a vehicle and the rumble of the engine fading in the distance. 

“THE BUS!” You screamed as you jumped and ran towards the corner of the edge, the vehicle traveling away.

Your son’s face went pale at the sight of his transportation turning a corner before disappearing the block. Mostly afraid of his parents giving him a lecture for missing the bus rather than attending class.

“Oh shit.” 

“Language.” Jason stated and pinched Y/C/N’s cheek as punishment for adding another curse word to the jar. 

“Well! It was great knowing you guys! Ah, I would really love an autograph. Especially from you Y/H/N.” 

“Me?”

“My dad has a fat crush on you, but don’t tell him that. He says it’s a secret between us men.” Surprised by the news, you glanced at your husband who then avoided your gaze and set his focus on a far off building, pretending he didn’t hear a thing.

Oh, he’s never going to hear the end of this from you. Your son quickly snatched his backpack that was resting by him and sprinted towards the door. As he opened the door to the stairs and was about to leave, he was lifted from the floor by his backpack, his legs still swinging as if he was running.

“Whoa there.” Jason placed your son down to his feet before gesturing between you two. “Why don’t we drop you off?”

“Really!?” Y/C/N’s eyes glittered with excitement that he’s going to receive the experience of traveling like a vigilante until a realization dawned on the boy. “But wait...I need my parent’s permission for that.”

“Don’t worry. All of the parents in Gotham trust us with their kids.”

“Wait really? You sure they won’t mind?”

“Crystal.”

“Yes! Ah, we gotta hurry. My bus might be a little far from here now.”

“Who said anything about taking you to the bus?”

-----

You and Jason were more than positive to never patrol in broad daylight unless it was an emergency. There are two reasons why. One, anyone can track you easily. Villains and crooks in Gotham don’t rest. Not only that, they have henchmen and machines that can detect vigilante activity which means a higher rate of danger to kidnap or take those who you interact with as hostage. 

Two, the nosy journalists trying to snap a picture and give an odd headline to the Gotham press. It wasn’t anything new. This happens occasionally without the masks. So the Batfamily wasn’t bothered much by it. But it is rather important to not make the headline. Depending on what is put, it would falter the trust and hope that civilians have in the heroes of Gotham. Also, they would interview those who interacted with the vigilantes therefore more problems would complicate. 

That’s when you both gave a conclusion of dropping off your son in an alleyway close by the school. As he was placed down from you, with wobbly legs and hair out of place, it took a load for you from fixing Y/c/n. But as a mother, you couldn’t help it. You bend down to his level and fix his hair and his shirt in place.

“There. All better.” You smiled at your bewildered son before pulling him in for a tight hug. “Have a great day, baby.” 

“You really act like my mom,” you pull away from him, “she’s always picky that I would look nice for school.” You resisted the urge to pinch his cheek from that comment. 

“I am not picky.” You stated with a serious tone and face.

“You are.” You heard your husband say.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Not.”

“Are too.”

“You’re not helping, Red.” You motioned at your son who is internally debating to join the small argument or leave it between the two of you since you remind him so much of his parents. 

Your husband glanced at your son before winking at him, motioning that his wife is definitely picky. Y/c/n snickered before going silent as your focus landed on him.

“Ok, Y/c/n. Time for you to go to school.” Jason pats Y/c/n’s shoulder 

“But...But I don’t want to go.” He wrapped his arms around yours and Jason's legs.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to face my parents when school is over. I’m really scared. What if they want to split up?”

“That won’t happen.” Jason’s tone was serious now.

“How do you know?” It was now Jason’s turn to crouch down to Y/c/n’s level, similar to what Y/c/n’s dad does.

“I’ll say this fast because you need to leave but if I were your dad, I would be an as-” You cleared your throat indicating to Jason to watch his vocabulary, “-idiot to even divorce your mom. Let alone to think of it. I love your mother so much to the point where I would still love her if she’d turn me into a frog. I would rather die again than to lose my family.”

“Wait, you died before-”

“Ah bap bap. Let me finish.” Y/c/n pouted.

“No fair.” Jason smiled under the helmet.

“I would also lose my precious kid. My partner in crime and a part of me. Even though we fought, big-time, I’d still love you and your mom. Relationships aren’t perfect. And neither are families. They’re rough around the edges but they’re still a part of us and we have our roles in them. And for your parents’ roles, they won’t split. I can assure that.” 

There it goes again. Y/c/n’s eyes expressing his emotion. He wasn’t sad at all. More as if he’s relieved and content for someone to tell him that all is well. Y/c/n immediately wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and hugged the living hell out of him. Jason didn’t hesitate to hug back his son. As the two parted, your husband stood back up in his usual height.

“Now, get in there. You don’t want your teachers waiting.” Jason ruffled your son’s hair before Y/c/n left out of the alley and stepped on the school grounds. 

As Y/c/n looked over his shoulder, he found the couple on a building waving him goodbye. He did the same and disappeared into the building. 

-----

The two of you returned to the apartment. It was silent for the most part since the you both agreed to ‘get some air’ when you found Y/c/n. But none of that occurred when you helped Jason inside through the fire escape. He was slowly stripping from his suit and placing his pajamas on with caution. Another hiss from him caused you to place your mask down and help him pull down his shirt.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.” It took you a second to process the meaning of the words. Did he apologize? Wait- He apologized?

“...What?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll talk with Bruce about patrol and-”

“No, I should be the one who’s sorry… You… You always worked alone and risked yourself to get missions done. I should’ve trusted you more that you can defend yourself and come home safely. It was my fault.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m just afraid. Afraid...That you’ll die and leave me and Y/c/n alone. Like how you passed away and left your family and I when we were in high school.” His eyes widened at your confession. “I know! I shouldn’t even worry because you’re so much stronger now. But damn you. Damn you, whenever you come home ripping my soul from my body by how you suffer from your injuries. I know we have schedules for patrolling and taking care of Y/c/n but I’ll stop complaining and overreacting-” 

You didn’t expect yourself to be in his arms, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, and your fired up spirit to be calmed by listening to the soothing beating of his heart. What a day. 

“I think we have enough stress for one morning.”

“...Agreed.” 

“I’ll talk with Bruce about patrols. In the meantime… let’s get some rest before Y/c/n comes back from school.”

“Alright…” Jason pulled away and was going to lead you to your shared bedroom before you stopped him. “I also have something else to say.”

“That is?”

“Well...more like an important question.” 

“Ok?”

"How long have you had a crush on me?”

~

[chilly-me-softly]

Every Little Thing's Gonna Be Alright • Chapter 23

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19 - Chapter 20 - Chapter 21 - Chapter 22

A few months later the situation between Evelyn and Jack was quite stable, both of them very happy with their relationship and always doing their best to see each other as much as possible. Not everything had always been rosy, of course, sometimes distance or small misunderstandings turning into big ones had contributed to create bumps along the way. But the two of them always found a way to fix things, either in person or from a distance.

Cece continued to grow pampered by everyone, giving smiles and babbles here and there. It was impressive how much she had achieved in that time, how she could keep everyone trapped around her little finger. How much love Evelyn felt for that little creature who every day added a brick to her personal growth and development.

Another football season was coming to an end and Jack had made her a proposal she'd had a lot to think about recently. Villa's last game would be at home and not only had Jack asked her to go to the game, but also to take part in the traditional lap of honour to thank all the fans for their support during the season.

Needless to say, she had taken a few days to think about it. Taking part in the event would certainly have meant first of all making their relationship public, exposing not only her but also Cece and giving the green light to various gossips and unwanted free opinions. On the other hand, however, there was being able to spend time with him, in his world. Taking the relationship a step further.

It was in those moments that she realised that her good intention to think less and act more would be more difficult to carry out. If she could let herself loose on some things, well, there was still something of her old self that surfaced from time to time. It was always like that, she knew from the start that she would eventually go but until that day she wouldn't stop worrying about this and that, about what might happen....

As she sits on the bed keeping an eye on Cece who is playing with the puppet given to her by Ben, Jack phones her. A smile automatically forms on her face as she runs her finger across the screen to accept the call. It's time to give him an answer.

"Hey you"

"Hi. Where are you? Doesn't look like your room to me or am I wrong"

"We're in Ben's room. Apparently this girl here got bored of hers" Evelyn shifts her phone slightly to also frame Cece who continues to chew on that bear's ear she holds in her hands undisturbed.

"Who is he? Who is he? Is he Jack?" she coos as the little girl pays attention to that familiar figure she now sees regularly, waving her little legs and babbling something making Jack smile.

"Hi sweety! Hi! I miss you so much"

"So I have news for you"

"Really?"

"Don't act like you didn't call just for that" he chuckles throwing a quick glance at the calendar where the date is marked a thousand times with a black marker.

"So what did you decide?"

"Well me and my girl have been consulting a lot"

"Oh yeah?" he interrupts her smiling cheekily as he closes one hand in a fist and uses it to hold up his head.

"Yeah" she teases him sticking her tongue out at him as Cece starts opening and closing her hand to greet him.

"Ha ha she doesn't like it when you're a smartass. Tell him we're not going anymore"

"That's not true!" his voice almost covers the last part of what she's saying but in reality he's understood all too well that in a few days he'll be able to hold them both again, and the smile on his face cancels out the poor attempt to claim he's offended.

"Say bye bye to Jack"

"Nah she likes me"

"To sleep, sure. I'm a little jealous to be honest she has the blanket with your scent on it though"

"You have me" he promptly replies as she bites her lip moving her gaze out of the camera frame.

And they continue to talk as they always do, the confirmation took a load off both of them, with Jack most of the time just watching the two girls while Evelyn plays with Cece wishing time could move faster. Until they are forced to interrupt the conversation due to a nappy change and the little one has already hit her with the puppet a couple of times.

-

Evelyn and Cece arrived at Jack's a few days before the last game of the season. He has promised that sooner or later they will also be able to get out of that house and maybe take a walk in the park taking advantage of the beautiful days the weather is offering, but the first few days are for him and no one else.

He comes home after the last training session of the season a little later than usual because he stopped for a little extra with some teammates and finds no one downstairs. As he goes upstairs, however, Evelyn's voice and Cece's little cries become more and more indistinct enough to take him to his room, and when he opens that door he can't help but smile. The two of them are playing tenderly with Evelyn leaning over to kiss the little one's tummy and the baby laughing moving her tiny hands, closing her fists around her mommy's hair.

He can't help himself when Cece won't let go of a lock of Evelyn's hair causing her to moan, laughing and blowing his cover. Evelyn looks up at him immediately lighting up and signalling for him to come closer.

"We have a surprise for you" she tells him and his curiosity immediately ignites so much that he almost runs making those few steps that separate him from the bed.

"What is it?" Evelyn simply shifts her gaze between him and the girl wanting to point at something and he after a moment gets the message by lowering his gaze, his eyes immediately falling on the Villa crest and wandering over the small kit trying to find differences from the usual. But it's only when Cece rolls onto her side, showing part of the Grealish name on her back, that he swears his heart has stopped beating for a few moments.

Cece's kit had always been plain, no name no number on the back. Evelyn had always felt on the edge for a choice that was so simple on the outside but actually brought up so many questions. Should she have had 'Daddy' written on it? No it was too soon. What did Jack think, was it too much? And again, does using his surname mean forcing him to take responsibility? What are we? Geez, the fight with her madness was really open.

And it was Jack who had then put an end to her paranoia, as always, and bought a small plain kit, giving her further time to clear her head and be satisfied with the fact that for the time being she would still wear the kit while supporting the team he played for.

"Since we're only going to see each other tomorrow when the game is over, we made a preview just for you" Evelyn pulled him back into the room and he reached out to the little girl taking her in his arms.

"Probably for the best or Jack would have cried in front of the whole stadium. Don't you think so too?" he murmurs cuddling the little girl, who seems to just want to reach up his nose, under Evelyn's tender gaze.

"I can't wait for tomorrow now. I mean look at this!" Jack lifts her up in the air like in the Lion King scene so he can look at that name once more and Evelyn can't help but laugh at the boy's excitement, happy it was the right choice after months.

The atmosphere in the stadium is something sensational, but she wouldn't have expected less to be honest. That's how it is when someone cares about a team, you stick together through thick and thin. It's a mutual kind of love. It doesn't matter if the previous week went well or badly, every time you try to do your best on one side and show all the support on the other. And that season for Villa had not gone badly at all, no one's fate depended on that game but it was still an opportunity and should be taken as such.

That hour and a half passed between watching something of the game, entertaining Cece, chatting with some of the girls she had already met in the previous months until the final whistle blew and little by little everyone began to prepare to take the field. Having fulfilled their duties more or less, even the players can finally allow themselves to relax. Jack is quick to find them and take Cece in his arms leaving her a loud kiss on the cheek, happy for the win and the moment.

"Ready?" Evelyn just nods, following Jack around the field but still remaining a little on the sidelines allowing him to do what he needs to do, greet the fans and enjoy the moment. More than ever she can understand when both he and her brother referred to those people as a second family, seeing them all gathered there happy and smiling joking with each other or playing with their kids. Everyone seems to know everyone, everyone is nice to everyone and she really has a good time getting to know this new family.

Once home and having put Cece to bed, who had fallen asleep in the midst of all the commotion, the two of them enjoy a moment alone snuggled up on the sofa.

"Today was nice"

"Evelyn" Jack sighs and she waits for him to continue, but when that doesn't happen she lifts her head from his chest meeting his eyes, "Move in here"

"What? Are you sure? Just know it's different from having us here only once in a while"

"I want everything. I want you here every day when I wake up or when I go to sleep. I want you here to cheer me up or have fun together. I want to live both of you every day, I want to be part of your lives fully, make this our home and I don't want to worry anymore that you might leave. I want to give you everything I'm capable of and build something strong with you" Jack strokes her cheek softly.

"So what do you say?"

----

I just want to let you know that there won't be a chapter next week, I need to focus on something else but I'll be back for the last chapters normally then. In the meantime I hope you enjoyed this one x

Tag: @alexajanecollins @emwritesfootball @rosie7703

Chapter 24

[sugarcomatosed]

i love your stories so much!! and was wondering if you can give some writing tips perhaps? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Breaking this up into sections for you + putting it under a cut cause I went overboard. 😅

General Writing Tips

These work for both academic and creative writing.

Make an outline.

It doesn't have to be a formal one, but having at least a general idea of the scenes you want to include is helpful. If I know my fic is going to be a longer one (like Don't Hesitate was and my current WIP is), I break down the larger story beats i want to hit on a piece of paper or my iPad.

It's good to know what you're planning to do, in a any piece I usually have a single specific scene I want to do and depending on what it is, I might either just do the scene I want to or turn into something longer.

Draft, draft, draft.

I cannot stress the importance of going through and reviewing your work. This is a big part of any sort of writing.

Your first idea isn't always your best idea. As you work on a piece you might find your original idea is holding you back, focus shifts! Don't be afraid to let your work change as you go. It's not always easy to let go of your original idea but if you find it's not working, you have to let it change. Sections will need to be rewritten, things have to be readjusted to fit with later sections. Reread for clarity while you're drafting and look to see if this makes sense to you, or reads well to you. If you can't follow it and you wrote it, chances are your reader can't either. Did you use the same phrase again and again? Find and search it on your doc to double check.

Sometimes you have to cut things you really like because they just don't contribute to the fic anymore. Save those bits and use them somewhere else!In a lot of my longer pieces I will write a paragraph, realize that's not where it should go and cut/paste it into another part of the doc because the pacing/scene doesn't make sense where I had it originally, but it works somewhere else.

If you're stuck, skip around, come back and then stitch the bits you have written together.

Don't Focus on a Word Count

This might be controversial, but I'm of the opinion just because something is longer does not make it better. Some works are short, and that's okay! I very rarely try to aim for a specific count of words unless it's for a prompt exchange or a personal challenge. I write till I feel the piece is done. Some stories require more words, some require less.

Don't Hesitate is a great example of this again, because all I wanted to do was a bittersweet first kiss fic, but jumping write into the kiss wouldn't get the full effect I wanted. Meanwhile, with Old Habits all I wanted to do was write dumb comedic kisses, we didn't need a 2k preamble.

Get Someone You Trust to Edit

My go to editor for the past six years or so is one of my good friends. She has edited everything from college papers to my fics for me before I post them to read for clarity, find any funky phrases or misspelled words I missed, and I do the same for her when she asks! A fresh set of eyes makes a world of a difference. Find someone to trade fics with or ask a friend! They might have good suggestions you never thought of, or be able to tell what you were going for when you don't even know yourself.

I also rely on my friends a lot to brainstorm and talk my ideas out before I start because it helps me think and figure out what I need. It's super common for me to text someone and say "im gonna spitball at you, that okay?" and then spend twenty minutes chatting through my ideas.

Have Reference Material

For my 13sar fics, I regularly go back and review/screenshot videos of the dialogue to make sure I am staying consistent with story events, character nuance and small details. You don't have to go crazy, but it is really helpful to have your source material to go back to and check yourself against. In non creative writing I always had a pile of papers highlighted with my own notes on the margins.

Take Breaks/Pace Yourself

Know your own limits, and if you are working and working on something and it's not coming out leave it alone and come back to it. I'm really bad at this personally because when I get an idea in my head I want to see it through but sometimes you gotta step back! It's not healthy to keep working on things and overwork yourself. Stretch, get up go for a walk.

Write What You Want to Write

Don't focus on what people want to read. Focus on what you like. Find a topic, a scene, anything that you are passionate about and the rest will follow. The only time I write fic for other people is when I am writing for a friend. Even prompt requests I only take open ended ones, if I am not interested in writing it it's not gonna happen. I know it's super hard and I get really anxious sometimes about letting people down now, or worrying people won't like something but then I step back and remind myself this is a hobby and I'm doing it for fun.

Play to Your Strengths

You shouldn't try to write like me, you should try to write like yourself. Find what skills you have and use them to your advantage!

I can't give you a step by step list to write like me, because nobody in the world has my background! We're all unique. Everything I've listed so far I know because I'm not a beginner anymore! I'm in my twenties and have come from a strong academic writing background.

I took on an intensive course load in high school, and then went onto college for a sociology degree. I very rarely had test based finals and at the end of each semester would have five 10-15 page papers to submit. Straight up some of my skills come from having read and studied the works of anthropologist Clifford Geertz. I am not saying you should read anthropology/sociology texts. Unless you like that sort of thing lol

I also have 6+ years of theater experience (acting & directing), I use this all the time for my writing. When I think about a scene, I think about how I would work through it as an actor, how the character would move, and how would things read to an audience. The GOTE ("Goal, Obstacle, Tactics, and Expectation") method of acting by Robert Cohen is really useful hear if you want a more technical breakdown of what I mean by that.

This leads to a lot of what we called "business" in acting, doing small tiny things while you talk or move around on stage to give the sense you're a real human. I don't have to think or try on these sort of things because they're in my skill set already!

Things I do Personally

As in, these are not transferable skills this is just the stuff I do while working on projects.

Find a Vibe™️

I come into any fic with usually a goal I want to hit, a line of dialogue or something I want to capture. Just like, the general idea of a feeling a song even if the lyrics don't match up. Make a mood-board, a playlist, just find something you wanna do. It's less about the actual words on the page and what you're aiming to do.

Look to things that inspire you

Don't Hesitate got written because I wanted to write a fic that captured the same vibe as a scene in Macross Frontier, where two characters have a bittersweet kiss before the final battle and that scene still has me fucked up six years after watching it.

My current WIP is doing the same thing but with the song All I've Ever Known from Hadestown. Two characters working through loneliness, the sudden feeling of falling in love and the frustration that feeling can bring on sometime.

I don't plagiarize them word for word, but these are scenes that inspire me! I also patchwork quilt ideas together. Using Don't Hesitate again, I also ended up pulling from a bunch of shoujo anime, Toradora, Sailor Moon, Yona of the Dawn, Princess Tutu...specific scenes I enjoy to blend and create something new.

Goof Off While You Write

I name my documents stupid things, I write dumb placeholder dialogue or vague sentiments like "insert better word here", I make memes when I'm struggling and roast myself and my predictable tastes.

I spent twenty minutes texting a friend Juro's name with different letters spelt out and then the "fuck your chickenstrips" vine saying it was Juro during destruction. Just have fun with it!

Listen to J-POP On Loop for Hours at a Time

i am not kidding I do this all the time. Perfume, AKB48, anime idol osts, Sailor Moon's OPs/ED, vocaloid songs. I like technopop and Japanese is good because it usually doesn't distract my brain since I only know random phrases, but still know what the meaning og the song is.

I love music, it helps me vibe out.

Thank you so much for enjoying my work ;o;

I hope this is useful to you in some way! I'm so sorry it's so long winded but I am overly thorough and love to teach people ;w;

[marmolady]

Homecoming: Part One

Read PART TWO here!

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC, Graleister

Summary: Endless Ending. Estela and Taylor spend one last night in San Trobida before returning to La Huerta and facing their future. This was going to be a two-parter, but I got all long-winded, so four-parter is more like it.

Word Count: 3342

Chronology: After 'The New Taylor' and 'A Ride to Remember', sort of midway through 'Inheritance'.

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic​

Thanks for reading!

Parrying the blows of her brother’s sword with the easy grace of a well-honed professional-- she had been doing this since her early teens-- Estela seemed to dance across the basement floor, totally in her element. Then Aleister lurched forward, and she jumped back, effortlessly dodging his attack. But in the landing, she found herself, finally, unstuck. Under the sudden weight of her whole body, her wounded leg gave way, and she stumbled. In a split second, Aleister’s cautious approach fell away and he pushed his advantage before Estela could recover. With a final flick of his blade, she was disarmed.

Estela laughed at the look of plain shock on Aleister’s face at his own victory. “Not half bad,” she commented, impressed that he hadn’t fumbled around taking advantage of her weakness. Her healing leg injury had been a source of great frustration-- despite regular massages of the Vaanti-made ointment concocted using the leaves from The Celestial’s roof, improvement had plateaued. The last thing she wanted was to be babied. “You’re still wasting too much energy with flamboyant gestures. This isn’t ballet-- it doesn’t have to look pretty.”

“Well, it certainly doesn’t appear that ‘pretty’ has hindered my performance,” Aleister panted, recovering just enough to be rather pleased with himself.

Offering a hand to take Aleister’s sword, Estela grinned. “Like I said, not half bad. Come on, hermano. We’d better give Tio a hand in the kitchen; it sounded like he had a big spread planned.”

Brother. That was still new. Only in the lead-up to his hand-fasting to Grace a few months prior had Estela gone so far as to utter that word in relation to Aleister. He reacted as he always did, a double-take, then his cheeks going immediately pink. It had been so long he’d craved that acceptance… now that it was there, it seemed it would take him some getting used to.

All attempts at helping Nicolas out with the farewell dinner were met with strong resistance. Some butting of heads later, Estela realised it really wasn’t a hill worth dying on; if her tio wanted to do something special for them all, she’d just have to step back and let him. After all, it could well be some time before he’d have this opportunity again. Come the next day, she, Taylor, and their friends, would all be on their way, and Nicolas would once more be left to an empty house.

As much as she tried to join in the energetic conversations over dinner, Estela found herself distracted. With her return to La Huerta, she’d be taking steps to move on with her life; to come to terms with the grief she’d suffered and get some closure. And then… she was faced with working out what the hell kind of life she’d forge for herself; something that had been made all the more complicated since Aleister had seen fit to bestow upon her half of everything he’d been left after Rourke’s demise. She’d made good progress on coming to peace with that connection, but she was not fool enough to be under any illusions… she still had a long way to go.

The subject of conversation turned to the case against Lundgren-- and the subsequent clearing of Jake’s name-- and Estela shook herself back to the present.

“The evidence is fairly damning,” Aleister was saying as he loaded his fork with beef, egg and plantain. “Certainly, the prosecutors were pleased. That we have access to every file my father ever touched, and a wealth of video and audio recordings, it would be difficult indeed to look at what’s presented and not come back with a guilty verdict.”

Jake smiled wryly, the grin failing to make his eyes. “I’ll give ya one thing, Malfoy, your old lady ain’t a dame I’d want to get on the wrong side of. I guess… we’ll see. Worst case, settlin’ down out here wouldn’t be half bad.”

“We won’t rest until you’re home,” Grace declared resolutely, her dark eyes shining. “That awful man isn’t going to be remembered as anything other than a power-hungry conniving brute. I’ll stand up and make a witness statement in court myself!”

She had, Jake knew, her own haunting personal experiences of seeing that exact brutality at close quarters. It made him sick. “Hey-- I won’t have you dredging up all that. Not for me--”

Grace spoke across him, calmly but firmly. “It’s my stand to take. I had quite enough of being helpless as Rourke’s prisoner; I need to take my power back.”

Jake’s mouth snapped shut. He wasn’t about to argue with that. “The poor defense won’t know what hit it.” The words rang hollow as exchanged a subtle dark look with Estela. The optimism was nice and all, but experience had told the both of them that the world was a corrupt place and ‘fair’ barely counted for squat.

“I know you think I’m naive,” Grace said, “and maybe I am, but the fact remains that we’re not giving in.”

Taylor grinned, confident because she had to be. “I didn’t offer my life force to some crystal alien only for you to not get back to your family. This is a matter of ‘how’ and ‘when’, not ‘if’.”

Beside her, Estela nodded. “Look, we’d be crazy if we just go in assuming this is gonna be a cakewalk. But Pollyanna here is right; we’ll make it happen. We’re not the kind of people who just roll over to injustice, and anyone who thinks they can force us is in for a painful lesson.”

“Dang, Princess… I think you broke Eeyore. She’ll be a motivational speaker at this rate….”

“It’s Katniss, cabron. Y vete a la mierda.”

Jake sniggered into his beer. So, motivational speaker was a little stretch.

With dinner over, the group started disperse. As Estela made to make a start on clean-up, Taylor gently turned her around.

“I’m pretty sure me and Al can handle this. Make the most of tonight.”

Estela looked out through the window to the front porch, where Nicolas had settled with his flask of rum. She took a deep breath. Taylor was right; she couldn’t just let this time pass her by.

Cold beer in hand, she pushed open the front door and stepped out. “It seems like Aleister and Grace’s first bandeja paisa was a hit.”

Nicolas beamed at the sight of her, and clinked her bottle as she sat down in the other chair. “Of course. Either that or they are exceptional actors.”

“No chance,” Estela laughed. “You’ve seen the looks he gives poor Taylor’s cooking. Her confidence has been shot since they’ve been here. At least Grace is polite about it.”

“You must be excited. I’ve said for so long that your potential was being wasted, and now… the world is your oyster. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Estela shifted in her chair and took a long drink.

“What’s that look for, mija?”

“Well, yeah, I’m excited. Terrified, but…. If I finish this degree, I really should think of what I want to do with it. And, well, all that money Aleister’s pushing on me.”

“That gilipollas. You poor thing.”

“Actually, I’m almost getting used to the idea. As much as it freaks me out, Mom would have been so happy to know I’ve got a leg up.” A small smile crept to Estela’s face. “I keep seeing so many things I could help with. Like the schools and universities-- how much could recovery be accelerated if people had better opportunities to learn? Or physically rebuilding so much that had been destroyed, or actually protecting the wilderness of this beautiful place?” She blushed as she caught herself getting passionate. “Rourke International has the capacity to do so much; we could actually have tourists coming here. That hasn’t happened in my lifetime!”

Nicolas chuckled, looking at his niece with clear affection. But he saw the cloud of doubt across her face.

“I…,” she continued, “I just don’t know that I have the right. We just got rid of one dictator, and Mom was collateral damage to a would-be dictator.” A would-be dictator who’s inescapably part of who I am. “Money comes with a lot of power. Even if I’m using it for what I think is good… I could cause a lot of harm.” By the time she finished, her voice was but a murmur.

“True. Alternatively, you could be one of those misers who sit upon their millions while the people around them starve and suffer, buildings crumble, and forests burn.”

“So, you’re saying I can’t win?” Estela demanded.

“I’m saying, the enemy here is ignorance. Ignorance of what greater impacts of your generosity might be, and ignorance of what suffering might go on if that generosity is withheld. The fact that you are even having these doubts tells me that you are not ignorant to the consequences of your actions.”

Estela huffed thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose,” she grumbled after a little while, “that you’d let me be, even for a second.”

“Of course not! I might be getting on a bit, but I am by no means past letting you know when you ought to unstick your head from your own backside.”

Again, Estela fell quiet. She was not going to be existing in an echo chamber. She’d surrounded herself with people that she trusted, with strong opinions and varied perspectives; people who would not balk from challenging her when necessary. If she tried, she couldn’t become a tyrant, regardless of what blood coursed her veins. At any rate, she’d simply be-- for the most part, at least-- channeling funds to others better placed to make the change she wanted to see in her world. She could be as anonymous as she wanted. Perhaps… perhaps it would not hurt to put some faith in herself.

“I take it from your silence,” Nicolas said, “that you’ve realised that once again I’m right. Now, go back to happily daydreaming about all the good you will do.”

Estela sighed dramatically, but smiled at her uncle. “I’m really gonna miss you….”

“I can’t pretend I’ve been looking forward to waking to an empty house again. But the missing you will be temporary; that’s more than I could have dared to hope for not so long ago.”

The same was true for her. And there was no way in hell she’d let goodbye be forever, not now. “Yeah. You’ve got a good point.”

“Again?”

She snorted. “Shut up, Tio.”

_________________________

The night wore steadily on, and Taylor eventually had to retreat from socialising with Nicolas’ other guests to start making headway on her night-time routine. ‘Self-care’ was something she now had down to an art; she even made a point of noting down the steps taken each night so she could easily track what was most effective. By this point, she had a fairly solid schedule. Yoga was followed by a calming cup of mint or chamomile tea, sometimes accompanied by a hot bath-- though tonight it was too late for the nice long soak she’d prefer--, and then she’d wind down even further with a half-hour’s guided meditation. Jake teased her mercilessly, but she really didn’t give a damn. If she could de-stress just enough to keep the seemingly never-ending stream of horrifying nightmares at bay, he could laugh all he wanted.

Slowly, Taylor wiggled her fingers and toes, bringing herself back to the land of the living with a long exhale. Fifteen nights without being woken up by visions of her loved ones’ deaths was the best run she’d ever had, but if those nightmares were triggered by stress, then the imminent return to La Huerta might just be the trigger that would throw a spanner in the works.

The little dog, Fenix, stretched forward and licked Taylor’s toes.

“Okay, okay, I’m back! Was I ignoring you for too long? Thanks for not interrupting my meditation, I guess,” Taylor chuckled. Having the pet had done wonders for grounding her during her regular existential crises. Fenix had come a long way from the mangy worm-ridden creature they’d taken in; still scruffy even with a full coat of hair, she was now bright as a button, and with a tail that never seemed to stop wagging.

“You’d better enjoy having me to yourself while you still can, Nixie-- this time tomorrow, we’ll probably have Furball sleeping on the end of the bed as well.”

Happily oblivious Fenix rolled and tumbled in her human’s lap. Foxes with ice powers were far beyond her frame of reference, but she could sense that whatever Taylor was talking about made her happy, so naturally there was every reason to be in a good mood.

The door creaked, and a just-showered Estela entered the room, clad only in a towel.

“Hey. I heard you talking to Nix-- figured you’d finished your meditation.”

“Hey,” Taylor cooed, feeling herself practically melt as her wife reached down to stroke her hair. “I just finished; went pretty heavy on the self-care tonight, just to be safe. You ready for bed?” She let herself be helped to her feet, and wrapped an arm around Estela’s waist. “Last cuddle in your little single bed for a while.”

Estela smiled. “Last cuddle in our little single bed.”

Taylor changed into her pyjamas and nestled under the covers, waiting and watching in quiet contentment as Estela slipped into a singlet and a light pair of shorts.

“You are so, so beautiful, you know that?”

“Taylor, you tell me that ten times a day.”

“Just making sure you’re aware, lover.” Taylor pressed herself against the wall, making room on the tiny mattress.

“You ordered a cuddle, yes?” Estela kissed and nibbled along Taylor’s jaw, feeling a tremor of an exhale, then sat back to look into the sapphire gaze of her adoring wife. Beautiful just wasn’t big enough.

“So… how are you feeling about tomorrow?” Taylor ventured.

“A lot of things,” Estela admitted. “Getting on that plane to La Huerta is going to bring back a lot of stuff. And saying goodbye to Tio… well, let’s just say, we’d better have a lot of tissues packed.”

Taylor squeezed her tight. “It’s not forever this time. And I think he knows that-- otherwise you’d be leaving again over his dead body.”

That made Estela give a little snort of laughter, but then she shook her head, sighing. “I know the guilt I’m feeling is irrational. Tio is just so happy to see how much things have changed for me. He wants me to go out and live my best life. But that doesn’t mean I can stop myself feeling it, just like that.”

Taylor didn’t have a lot of life experience, but guilt? That, she knew all about. “We’re just going to have to keep talking to that irrational part of your brain, then. Honey, your tio thought you were dead for so long-- you coming back every now and then, smiling, on your way to healing… that’s just the most amazing gift you could give him. And maybe��� it’s going to help him move on too.”

“Yes.” Man, I hope so. Estela knew that her uncle had closed himself off to the world. That he’d seen that he’d done his part in life, and then retreated from it. He joked around, but for so long he’d been broken inside. Now, they could make strides towards something better, together-- even if there was a distance between them. Now, Estela had hope for them both.

Taylor snuggled close, spooning her wife from behind, and leaving  lingering kisses upon her neck and shoulders.

“What about you?” Estela asked softly, turning in the warm embrace so she could meet Taylor’s eye. “I guess this will feel like going home.”

“Yeah, I guess it will be. Something like that. It’s a very… it’s a very weird feeling, you know?”

“I can imagine. It’s going to be strange to be back on La Huerta without everyone. The village is gonna be like a ghost town.”

A small smile tugged at Taylor’s lips; in spite of her own worries. Estela sure was perceptive. “It’s kind of freaking me out.” Of course, Estela already knew that, but it had never hurt to actually put the words out there. It was quite clear that they both had to look forward to a crash course in moving on. But that they were alive, and together, and free to do so… it was everything they’d fought for. “I’m bursting to see Diego again, though. It must have been so much weirder for him these past months.”

There was a grumbling, grunting sound as Fenix settled herself into a nest made out of the clothes Taylor had left on the floor. Both women chortled. Nothing like a funny little dog to keep the mood light.

Estela tenderly stroked Taylor’s hair, loving her. “You’ll have a lot to catch up on. It’s gonna mean a lot to him to have you there.” She blushed. “It… means a lot to me to have you here.”

“Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”

“Taylor, we all are. And you’re stuck with us. There’s nothing that can change that.”

As she looked into Estela’s soft gaze, Taylor’s heart swelled. If she knew anything at all, she knew that much. All she had to do was trust in that sweet certainty.

[imaginesandideas]

humid

roughly 4k words, originally posted on my A3O account. a late summer memoir; NSFW. reblogs, comments, suggestions and all kinds of support are more than welcome ✨

[whispers] y’all should really play Hozier’s “Work song” or “NFWMB” for this one 🖤

It’s been a tough couple weeks. Well, months. And it’s especially hard cause you’re living together, you’re married and yet you’re passing each other by. Not willingly for goodness sake, but you’ve been barely finding time for each other lately and it’s killing you. He’s not dealing great with it either, but he keeps the facade to avoid worrying you more. He’s learnt that at work obviously. The same work that has been keeping him away from you for so long.

You’re not better though. Everything has changed after you finally got your degree. The studying was hell, you were mostly tired and overworked. But Flip? He was by your side through highs and lows and was always super supportive. If not for him you probably wouldn’t have done it at all.

But after that you were met with another bunch of obstacles. Cause despite your earnest efforts, finding a decent job in the Colorado Springs area was a rather difficult task.

You went through successive stages of education but it never meant that someone would be willing to give you a chance. And again Flip was the most supportive husband - he would drive you to your interviews insisting that it’s „no big deal” and that he won’t be late for work, cause the work will wait for him anyway. You found his presence by your side in those moments  extremely comforting. As you were driving around town he would reach out for your hand to hold it and place a kiss at the back of it. Such a simple gesture but for you it meant more than words. You knew that it was an affirmation, it was him reminding you that you’re strong, that you’re capable and that no matter what happens he’ll be there. For you and with you.

And you simply couldn’t help but glance at him lovingly as he was entirely focused on the road, making sure you get there safe and on time.

 And finally, after many unsuccessful attempts, you got the job. It wasn’t a job of your dreams, but it was good for a start. You were earning enough to support your household budget and to take some of the worries off Flip’s shoulders. It was the independence you’ve been seeking, but it also meant that you’d have to get used to your lives continuously not coinciding.

You didn’t even realize when 6-hour shifts have turned into 10 hours. And then those 10 hours turned into a lot of paperwork you’d do during the weekends. But that’s okay, you thought, Flip was also busy at the station or going on missions so you couldn’t really be mad at yourself for doing all this extra work, right? And it was also pretty rewarding cause soon enough you got promoted and had even more complicated tasks to execute. It also came with bigger money, but all of a sudden you realized that you don’t even have the time to go and spend it on something.

Soon enough it dawned to you how little time together with Flip you were actually getting and the thought itself made you feel sick. Cause if you were to count all the moments you two had for each other during the week, it would have to be all the hours asleep and alarming amount of rushed goodbyes and kisses as you pass each other by in the hallway of your home.

Passing each other by - that’s what you were actually doing and it was driving you insane. But what could you do, you were trapped between the current project and all the upcoming ones. You were trapped between Flip’s and your own work schedule. Separated by the obligations that lay with your shoulders.

„That’s wonderful, I’m so proud of you!” His voice is heavy with exhaustion but you can sense that he’s smiling as you’re talking on the phone.

The manager position was more than you could’ve dreamed of, especially after such a long time in your current job, but the offer was so generous and unexpected that it took you a moment to process it. But first, you needed to call Flip. Partially because you wanted to know his opinion but also just so you could hear his voice.

„Well I have yet to agree but yeah I’m pretty excited.” You smile to yourself. „I mean, it’s a big step and I’ll have to get used to the new workplace but yeah…”

„You’ll do great baby. You’ll handle it like a fighter, I’m sure of it.” He’s really so proud of you and no distance could ever hide it. You can practically see his eyes shining with pride. „I love you.”

You sigh sadly.

„I love you too baby.”

„… and miss you.” He adds in a hushed tone.

„I know, I do too, you have no idea how much.” Suddenly you feel glad that you got to talk now, during your break with none of your coworkers around. It’s not like you’re ashamed or anything but you just don’t want people gossiping about the state of your marriage or you in general. It’s your moment, one out of very few you get to spend with your husband, even if it’s on the phone. And you’re just sad, your voice almost breaks as you’re speaking. „I know it’s probably just all the work and stress but I think I’m going crazy sometimes.”

„That bad?” He chuckles and you roll your eyes but you know he’s only teasing. „I know baby, I’m sorry, it’s my fault. All this paperwork from the last case got us locked up here for days. Even Ron had enough of it and left earlier today. Promised he’ll be back tomorrow morning but I wouldn’t bet my money on it.”

You nod mindlessly. Gnawing on your bottom lip you decide to take your shot.

„How much of it do you guys have left?”

„The case data? Uhh, for at least a day or two I think. Why?” You smirk but keep your voice on the same note.

„I might be wrong but I remember that chief once mentioned that you still have that overdue leave?”

He pauses for a moment, most likely trying to recall that conversation but soon enough he’s back on the line.

„Yeah I think there was something. I’ll ask him again but I believe there was a week or two.”

„Okay so, uhm, how about you get the paperwork done and we both take some time off? Just you and me, no work, no phonecalls, no distractions.” At this point you can barely hide the excitement in your voice and you don’t even care. This may be your last chance so you just hope he agrees.

„God yes, that’d be perfect!” He smiles widely and you can’t help but smile too. „What about your new job though?”

„I’ll handle that, don’t worry.”

„That’s my girl.” The smile he has at that moment will stay with him for the rest of the day, he has no doubt about it.

 Time flies when you’ve got loads of work and things to look forward to. Those days flied by like a rocket and there you are, all giddy and excited as you walk towards your home. You decided to buy some groceries on the way and grab your order of italian takeaway from that restaurant you used to visit quite often when you were still only dating. Despite the tiredness and the overwhelming heat of the day you try to keep your mood uplift, the thought of well deserved time off with your husband is making all the work worth it. Cause he is worth, and you know that both of you deserve this more than ever.

The late-summer sun is setting low over the city and the woods and you stop in your tracks to catch that last glimpse of golden light. Who would’ve thought that one day you’d miss small things like this - slowly walking home, admiring the view. But you promise yourself to care more from now on. It’s a brand new chapter of your life and you decide not to waste a single moment that’s worth remembering. And you want to remember this, remember this day.

You set your purchase on the kitchen counter and drop your bag on the couch. Flip did not set the hour precisely but you guessed that he’ll be late, the usual.

After you put the food in the fridge - you specifically ordered pasta to be semi-raw so you could reheat it at home when the right time comes - you grab the bottle of leftover wine that you intentionally didn’t finish the last time. Now that you’ve got a couple days off it won’t matter if it’s not the weekend yet, you’re starting yours early. Besides, it should help you relax a bit, loosen tense muscles. And that icy liquid just feels so right as it reaches your tongue, perfect for a hot evening like this one. With a glass in one hand you step out on the porch but the air is still way too heavy with heat and you return inside.

After yet another sip you set the glass on the table and choose to change into something more comfortable. Ideally something thin, cause even back inside the air was pretty humid. Barefoot, you step inside your wardrobe and the coolness of it makes you close your eyes in bliss. The summers here were great, you loved the sun and the nature flourishing, but if you could trade one thing it would have to be the heat, especially during the night.

By the time you come into your bedroom you don’t even know what time it is, you’re too drowsy to care. Maybe you’d just wait in here, lay on these silky sheets you just recently bought for the summertime sleeps. You’ll keep one eye open in case if he comes back soon. You won’t fall asleep no way. No way…

 Jolting awake you notice that the light is turned off, the whole room is dark and aired but still pretty humid as if someone left the window open. And it’s almost completely silent, except for the steady breathing beside you. There’s warmth spreading over your waist where his arm rests protectively and you smile. Once your vision accommodates to the darkness you see his sprawled out form, so pale in the night shades of your bedroom. He even got rid of the tank top he’s normally wearing to bed and you assume he must have felt just as hot as you.

You also realize that you must have fallen asleep before he even came back, cause you can’t seem to remember anything after changing your clothes in the wardrobe.

His embrace feels better than anything else in the world and you wish you could’ve stayed like that forever but your throat feels so dry that you decide to gently slip out. It’s no surprise that you still feel dizzy as you stand up, suddenly remembering the alcohol and the fatigue of workday. As quietly and carefully as possible you sneak out of the bed and then out of the bedroom, leaving Flip alone underneath the sheets.

One glass of water isn’t enough so you pour yourself another one. It’s been hours since dusk yet the air feels so heavy and hot as if during the day. Your skin feels sticky, like it’s covered in some sort of sweet syrup.

„You minx.”

His raspy voice coming from behind startles you at first, but his hands swiftly sneak around your waist before you get a word out. And you don’t even mind the warmth radiating off his body onto your back, engulfing you as he closes the distance between you both, that closeness is almost relieving. You haven’t been this close in a very long time.

„I thought you were asleep.” You say softly as you reach out to caress his face and he nuzzles his cheek into the crease between your shoulder and neck, kissing along your tense muscles.

„Can’t sleep without you. I need to know where you are.” He mumbles and you smile.

 It’s true, even when away on a mission or an investigation - he always calls. He knows when you’ll be back from work and wants to make sure you got home safe. That’s the protective side of his that you’ve learnt to adore, even if one could consider it an annoying trait.

With his vast work experience, the things he’s seen over the years but also the love he had for you from the very first day, he couldn’t just simply overlook your safety. You were that one string keeping him grounded and sane thorough all the madness in his life, he wouldn’t have forgiven himself if he’d lost you. It was almost like a ritual at this point. Him calling you from the station before you head for bed, sometimes you calling him at the hotel when you know his workday on a mission is over. Not only does it calm both of you down, it’s also a chance to have that much needed time to talk about ordinary things.

„I’m sorry I fell asleep on you. I had some wine, I don’t even remember when I passed out…”

„It’s okay. You work so hard, you deserve some rest.” His voice is soothing in your ears, almost as soothing as his soft lips traveling up along your pulse point. „And I was tired too.”

„Was? Past tense?” You whisper chuckling and his grasp on you tightens, he’s pulling you in even closer almost inhaling you whole. His hands run up your sides, gently cupping your breasts before they retreat, then climb up again, this time underneath your shirt. Ever so slowly, teasingly his fingertips dance over your skin, over your slowly hardening nipples. And despite his bodily warmth it still sends shiver down your back. 

He whispers but it feels like a thunder echoing along your neck.

„You already know.”

Your bodies move in unison as you turn around to face him. His face glows of late summer sweat in the dim light and it only accentuates his rough features, from cheekbones to jaw. He gives you a few seconds, enough to get a good look at his shadow-toned figure - arms,  thighs, collarbones, stomach and that strong chest - at your Flip, before he pulls you in once again. This time his hands are even greedier, his movements are more desperate. But you’re right there to reciprocate, bringing your own needy hands to his dark, sweat-tangled locks. And when his lips finally meet with yours it’s like breathing. It’s natural, it feels necessary. It’s like magic but better, cause there’s nothing realer than this.

„I missed you. So so much. I missed this.” He whispers in between kisses hastily. His voice is hushed but deep, like in a tantric prayer. Like a spell.

„Flip.” You call out quietly, a whisper echoing in the darkness. He hoists you up, you watch his arms flex in the corner of your eyes, hands clutching on your thighs for dear life as he places you ever so gently on the counter. Safe yet so close to the edge.

His movements are sensually slow, so different from the way you’ve remembered him. With lips parted you let him kiss away the tension from your shoulders, arms, neck, wrists…

„Let me.” He half asks half states as he sinks low on his knees. Your eyelids grow heavy with each touch of his plump, warm lips on your ankles, calves, below your knees, along your thighs. „My love, my queen.”

You don’t remember him him like this and you’re hypnotized. He’s like a drug flowing through your veins, heating you from underneath the skin. Like he’s controlling your whole body, its motions, you.

„Baby please.” You’re begging. Flip likes that, a lot.

„Say it again.” It’s the depth of his voice, the booming of it that wakes you up from this trance you’ve been stuck in. And he’s looking at you with those cinnamon-spiced honey eyes of his. The eyes that are now locked with your own hazy gaze.

He kisses your ankle without even looking away and it’s like fire burning you from underneath and that icy breath tingling on your skin.

„Please.” A whine.

„Again.”

„Please…”

It comes out nearly a whimper, but he’s relentless, his face stoical like a cliff. Proud, patient, waiting.

He’s tempting you, testing you as if it is the devil himself kneeling beneath your feet. Encouragingly grazing his fangs along the luscious skin of your thighs. Awaiting your surrender. Your submission.

„Say it like you mean it.”

Your heart is shaking in anticipation. It feels so wrong and yet you give in.

„Phillip, please. I need you.”

And he bites in, sucks in, leaves blooming marks like petals scattered around a bouquet of fresh wild peonies.

He devours you entirely, completely. Trembling, you’re losing control, in fact you’re giving it away, right into his eager hands, lips, hungry eyes.

 By the time his mouth reaches your clit you’re already blissed out, encouraging him with the motion of your hips, quietly gasping, begging for air, begging for more. Begging for no air at all.

It’s like you’re breaking apart, your body and mind conflicted yet something, someone, keeps them tied together, seals them with each caress. Your nerves are tingling but at the same time are so numb, like he’s crawled inside you, slick as a snake. He’s controlling you, the rhythm of your breathing, of your heart.

And your heart feels like a volcano, hot and ready to explode from your heaving chest.

„Y-yes, there, please.”

Your slick and his spit are one. Your inhales are synchronized with his lips. Perfect harmony, only it’s not quiet, it’s loud on his tongue, loud as the gasps leaving your mouth and even louder in your brain.

With your vision clouded you gaze down and that’s when it hits you.

Your limbs involuntarily shake, wave after wave crashing over you and within seconds you can barely breathe. Your mind is filled with light, like sun setting over beach, the sounds  of ocean rustling. You’re divided, both here and out there, not even sure which one is which cause all of these sensations feel so real.

There’s this immense hot heaviness climbing up your torso. It covers your ribs, moves swiftly over your cleavage, rests below your breast, on your heart. His hand reaching out to touch you even more. So gentle and loving yet so delightfully demanding.

„Yours.” You whisper even though he doesn’t question it verbally. It’s in the air and you just repeat it like echo, like a mantra.

Fingers dig into the counter, seeking support. He knows you’re almost there, he can feel it through your uncontrolled trembling, your spasming cunt. And so he catches you, holds you grounded, holds your thighs firmly apart with his strong hands. Somehow it doesn’t even matter that it’s the middle of a hot night, it doesn’t matter where did your underwear go, if the sun is about to hit your faces within the next few minutes, cause all you care about is him. And you keep chanting his name with that haunting promise.

„Yours Flip, yours. Yours.”

If only you could see these honey eyes as they drown in the sound of your voice, the eyes that can’t speak but still reflect his love for you - selfless, filled with adoration and respect. In his eyes you’re a statue, carved and perfected thorough the years, and now he’s bringing it to life.

Your body goes tense one more time, from head to toes, from the crown of your head and along your spine. He slows down, he wants it to last, he wants to feast on you for the rest of his days and even more, but he needs you to be fed.

And gods, he’s feeding you with everything he has, with the twirls of his tongue, with his own spit sticking to your sweat covered body, the tiny bites and that gloriously filthy loud sucking.

 It’s your arms that give in first and you lean back on the counter covered in sweaty bliss. His hands that kept your your thighs apart loosen the pressure, though you’re fairly sure of the bruising that will come out of it. The beauty of pleasure and pain.

Slowly he pushes himself up from his knees. And- fuck, he’s so in love with you he would propose to you the very next day if only that didn’t already belong to the past.

That’s when your eyes open. You catch him staring but he’s staring at you the way no other person ever did. Not like a prize, a plaything, no, he’s fucking mesmerized. All he sees is a goddess and the look in his eyes, his face says it all. It’s that tiny smirk on his stupid-beautiful face that cracks your heart open. You wonder how dare he tongue-fuck you into oblivion just to be so puppy looking seconds later. It’s like he’s testing you again.

„I fucking love you, y’know that right.”

„Phillip Zimmerman, how dare you. I should be the one saying that right now.” You chuckle but soon enough he gently grabs you, sitting you upright, his arms wrap around your waist yet again, eyes glossy with love. You’re speechless cause it feels like falling in love for the first time, this moment, him holding you close like this. You know this, you two have been like this in the past but you thought you’ve lost it somewhere along the way. Life can be rough, can be painful and sometimes just utterly normal, boring even. But here you are, gazing at each other longingly, maybe more in love than ever before because it’s no puppy love anymore, it’s a full-grown one.

His eyes follow the lines he draws with his fingers along your cheekbone, cheek, jaw before stopping at your chin. And he stares. Stares into your eyes.

He’s thinking how perfect you are, your face carved with determination, struggles but also beauty, and this immense love. He’s thinking how fortune must have helped his blind senses in catching you. And how he never wants to let you go.

He’s so lost in thought and so you take over finishing the sentence he meant to make. You seal the confession with your own lips, deepening it, making the words mean something beyond their definition.

With your eyes closed your hands glide over his face. You feel the softness of his skin, but also each of the tiny scars, the moles, the small imperfections that make Flip the person you know. Your person.

Your lips detach and you already miss their fullness, you miss the way they belong together.

„I meant that, you vixen.” He exclaims half-teasingly, but you know he’s sincere. You know him well enough to recognize it, so you just smile.

„I know. And I do love you too, so much. I really missed us.” As you speak he cups your face yet again but allows you to continue, not wanting to interrupt your thoughts. You were always better with words than him. „And I’m so proud of us, super-proud of you. How you grew over the years, how you’ve gotten better at everything you were already great at. And, like, grateful. For everything you do, for being so supportive and for being there for me an-”

„You better cut this sugary bullshit or you’ll make me so soft ’m not gonna be able to fuck you later.”

„Cutting it right now!” You pretty much cry it out and he chuckles flashing that full-blown smile of his, the one that’s reserved only for you.

„Good girl.” He says and you half-expect him to run off with you to the bedroom, but instead he kisses your forehead and pulls your arms over his shoulders. „But first, sleep.”

„What? No, no nonono. Babe, Flip, no, put me down. I can’t leave you hanging like this, let me-”

„No. Sleep. We need some more sleep first. Besides - I caught that small yawn you did 5 minutes ago, and you tried to freakin’ hide it from me so you’re not getting away with this one.”

„B-but…”

„I promise, we’ll catch up after a nap. Look, we woke up in the middle of the night and now it’s almost dawn.”

His words make your head spin in direction of window and you can’t believe he’s right as the first beams of sunlight hit your eyes. And of course you yawn on the spot, cause he’s really just has all the points.

 So you just nuzzle your head in the crook of his marble neck as he carefully hoists you up. You stay there, wrapped in his love through the finishing moments of night, and through couple more hours as both of your bodies rest covered in silky sheets, with limbs tangled together, breathing steady. Even when the air gets humid again covering your bodies with another layer of sweat, you don’t mind. You’re no longer against the heat, not if it’s the heat he covers you with, not if it’s the heat of you together.

[turtletimewriting]

Logan’s Adventure- To the doctor’s

Summary: What it says on the tin!

Note: Woop woop! I actually found some motivation to write so feeling good about these ones! I will say, there isn’t any tickling in this one so if you’re reading purely for the tickles then sorry! 

This is based on the tickle forest idea by fluffomatic so check them out!

Beginning!--- Patton’s part!

_._._

“Well where do you think we should go?” Virgil asked. Logan took a pause to consider the options.

“Well all options are valid and useful so I guess-”

“Cool because if you don’t really have a strong opinion, then I say we’re going to the doctors,” Virgil stated and marched on the stoned road leading straight into the village. Logan huffed a laugh at him, “Just... I guess now that you’ve mentioned it, I don’t want to end up getting bitten or a rash or whatever.”

“Sounds good to me,” Logan smiled before shyly linking their hands together.  

Now it was of course no surprise to see that the side that looked like a prince straight from a Disney film would create a medieval European village. The houses all stood tall with dramatic black wooden frames but still somehow made them feel at home immediately. Maybe it was because everyone they passed waved and nodded at them and the first house they passed had a mother placing a hot apple pie on the windowsill. There was colourful bunting strung up the old fashioned oil lamps and they could both almost hear the Disney-esque music playing in the background. It was a short walk until they came across the doctors. 

Walking in, the receptionist smiled widely and waved them over. Luckily, the waiting room was pretty much empty with only one girl fidgeting and tapping her foot. “Hello lovelies! How can I help?” The receptionist spun on her office chair to face them. Despite how friendly everyone was, Virgil automatically kept looking around the office leaving Logan to do the talking.

“Hello, I’m afraid we don’t have an appointment nor are we actually ill. This is our first time... travelling through and we wou-”

“Oh!” The lady butted in and started typing furiously on the computer, “That’s no problem. So would you like a drop-in session to go over how to protect yourselves and basic aid for the wildlife here, right?”

“That’s sounds great, thank you.”

“No problem. I just need to ask some questions so the doctor knows what to ask you all about?” 

“Go ahead.”

“Right, so firstly names?” The receptionist asked much to both of their surprise. Usually most of Roman’s creativity meant that any imagined space and people knew them. Typically every villager would rave about a certain red clad prince hero, they would bake for a certain lovely young man in bright blue, Logan made an effort to challenge the professors and every villager knew to leave the poor shy man in black to himself. 

They both answered basic questions about themselves before the receptionist boredly asked one last question that froze them, “Okay last one, are you lees or lers or switches?” 

“Uh... what?” Virgil whipped round to actually face her for once and Logan simply bluescreened. 

“Do you prefer being tickled, the ticklee, or tickling someone, being a tickler? Or, of course, a little bit of both?” The receptionist asked as if she was simply asking them what they’re favourite colours were. 

“Of course Remus would also create not only paperwork but... stupid questions,” Virgil grumbled but he already knew he was going to answer quickly. Yes this was an anxious nightmare but then he wasn’t about to cause a scene to someone innocently doing their job. He’d just have to get Remus later.

“I’d say both... switches?” Logan asked with a nervous look to Virgil. 

“Yeah?” The lady asked clearly wanting a bit more.

“I’d agree with that but I do think it’s important to note that Logan here leans strongly to the lee side,” Virgil quickly butted in.

“What?” Logan demanded.

“Okay great! You’re all good to go. You won’t have to wait long. Probably no more than five minutes. The doctor will call you. You can take a seat while you wait but I will say that the girl also waiting was bitten by lersquitos so maybe keep you’re distance,” She smiled widely and submitted the form before Logan could fight against any of their answers. 

“Thank you,” Virgil smiled before dragging his bumbling stuttering boyfriend by the shoulders and sitting them a couple of seats away from the girl. 

“You. Are. A... nightmare,” Logan finally snarked once his mind finally loaded from the betrayal. 

“Eh, the doctor’s need all the information they can grab. That means they need to know about your ‘stress relief’ mechanisms,” Virgil breathily whispered into his ears while trailing his fingers up his arms, leaving Logan flinching and childishly giggling. They stopped however when the girl groaned at their teasing. 

“Uh, excuse me. I’m sorry if this is really rude, but we heard you got bitten by... a something. Do you mind telling us about that?” Logan asked 

“Oh, uh a lersquito,” The girl answered with a judgemental look. She answered as if they had asked what colour the sky was. 

“Yes. That... What is that?” He asked. The girl took a deep breath and releasing an obnoxiously long sigh.

“Yeah it’s just a bug. It bites you and you get into a ler mood. It’s like...” She awkwardly paused but continued while never once looking at them, “you can’t get the idea out of your head and it’s like your fingers can’t keep still, y’know. They mostly hang out around water, so yeah.”

“That has got to be a Remus creation,” Logan nodded to himself and the girl simply shrugged them off and continued staring at the wall while slowly flexing her fingers. 

“Yeah wait!” Virgil suddenly perked up, “how on earth do we fight against that! A bug that bites you! I didn’t pay attention to any bugs. We may have already been bitten! And, and, the map goes through the forest. How on earth are we meant to-”

“That’s why we’re here. Surely the doctor can help us,” Logan answered and smoothed his bangs out of his eyes, much to his dismay. 

It wasn’t much longer until they got called by the doctor. She was dressed like any other doctor with no indication that she specialised in any tickle related stuff. “Hello, c’mon in!” She waved them inside a room. It looked also completely normal. There was a typical notice board behind her desk filled with different flyers and information. This was the only indication that they were in a world created and based on tickling. Even Logan had to admit that it was distracting to see a massive poster of a a cartoon man getting absolutely destroyed by bugs with glowing pink mushrooms in the background. 

He snapped back to attention when he noticed the silence. The doctor laughed at them both considered Virgil was still entranced by the poster. “Sorry! Uhm, can you repeat that?”

“I just asked if this was your first time through?” She asked with a polite smile. 

“Oh yes! Right. Yes this is our first time travelling and we would like to be prepared for anything that may get us... in trouble.”

“Ah well there’s not much advice I can give,” She responded.

“Of course it wouldn’t be that easy,” Logan mumbled under his breath but the doctor kept talking without pause.

“Just apply basic common knowledge and you’ll be alright. Don’t mess around with any weird plants, leave the white flowers alone, be careful around animals. Remember if you do get into trouble then come see a doctor if you’re worried. Did you have any more specific questions?” She asked Logan who was still flicking back and forth between the blatant poster and her.

“What is the most common reason people visit?”

“Well usually it’s the ants. Not a lot of people remember to look where they’re standing and, to be honest, their colonies are not obvious. They sting you and can almost triple your sensitivity. Not a problem if it’s a kid but if you’re in the middle of work then it can be a nuisance. Also, if you do get stung and it lasts more than four hours without treatment then seek medical help immediately.”

“Is there any way to... cure the sting?”

“It’s a simple lotion. It won’t make it disappear, you’ll still be quite sensitive, but it really helps dampen the effects. The sting is enough so that your clothes tickle you so a lot of people will buy it in bulk,” She answered while handing them both the tiniest travel bottle of the lotion. It wasn’t much but then he guessed it made sense that they wouldn’t hand them loads of it. 

They chatted but otherwise the doctor was reluctant to give them anymore considered her stance was thoroughly ‘just use common sense’. Virgil kept his gaze fixed on the notice board but the longer they talked, the more confused he looked. Even Logan ended up nudging him to try and get him to pay attention. 

As they were leaving, Virgil finally spoke up. “Wait, can I look at something?” He asked but he was already leaning over her desk to pull off one of the notes. Unlike the other leaflets, it was just plain paper with a scrawled hard to read chicken scratch. 

He showed it to Logan with a concentrated frown. It read:

The treasure is kinda smelly and gross but you’ll love it!!!!

“Is that a clue!” Logan gasped, intentionally snatching it from his hand. 

“It just stuck out as weird,” He pretty much said to himself because now Logan’s mind had latched on. Any mind based puzzle and Logan was in his happy place. The wording all screamed that this was a treasure that Remus created or at the least Remus made the clue. Had they missed more clues? Were they supposed to have any idea what this means? This was so vague! It spoke about the treasure but not about what the password to unlock was. Maybe the password is what the treasure is! 

Logan absolutely didn’t pay attention to Virgil saying thanks to the doctor and shoving them out the door. Virgil merely fondly rolled his eyes and pushed them out of the village and up to the path. Back to the adventure! 

The path led straight into a heavy forest with vines and the constant chirping of birds. The bushes seemed like they were always moving with different animals scuttling about and Virgil could already feel himself start to sweat as the heavy trees trapped the heat in the forest. All this time, Virgil had to admit he did feel a little worried about getting unfairly sneak-attacked but also that was nothing compared to now. The thick heavy forest only showed that they were truly in the thick of it now. They weren’t sightseeing around a village. They were in an adventure. 

They had barely stepped through the forest before stopping. Across the path was a weeping willow. It was just as gorgeous as terrifying. The soft pinks and white rustling together in a beautiful dance of a feathery bright petals. But also that was the most obvious trap he had ever seen in his life. Logan was still mumbling to himself staring at the clue so he carefully plapped the clue out of his hands and silently pointed at the tree. 

“Ah,” Logan said.

“Yeah. Ah. What do we do?” Virgil sighed. Logan looked around with a wince. The path carved through extremely thick trees and bushes and dense foliage. 

“There’s no good option here. We could keep to the path and just take whatever this tree does or we could go around it.”

“But god knows what’s in there!” Virgil gasped!

“So do we go forward knowing we will get tickled by these... feathery looking branches or get tickled by the unknown. There isn’t a good option here,” Logan sighed. 

This adventure took 20 minutes!

Total time: 46 minutes.

OOH BOY THAT WAS SOO LONG, I’M SO SORRY!

The adventure continues, but what shall our boys do?!

1) Go forward

2) Go off the path 

Now, Logan and Virgil know about lersquitos, tickle ants and discovered a clue! But now Logan is distracted with figuring out the clue!

[heeytwelve]

A mundanity that creeps into your very soul

Insidious Humdrum is he most intriguing and controversial character in Simon Snow books. It also one of the main characters of “Carry On” book, and, (as unpopular opinion) - he is still appears in “Wayward Son” - he mentioned by Simon, Agatha, Penny, Baz multiple times as nightmarish memories. 

I believe Humdrum will make his appearance in third book and I want to dig on why he is so important in “Carry On” set and why Simon might be not quite done with him.

Humdrum is “official” antagonist of the first book, the prophesy which gave Simon “The Chosen One” title also implies that his only mission in life is to banish the Greatest Threat of World of Mages.

It’s important to notice that Simon himself is not really invested in fighting Humdrum, he strangely detached from his life mission:

“When the Humdrum comes after me, I fight him. When he sends dragons, I kill them. When you trick me into meeting a chimera, I go off. I don’t get to choose or plan. I just take it as it comes. And someday, something will catch me unawares or be too big to fight, but I’ll fight anyway. I’ll fight until I can’t anymore—what is there to think about?”

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.”  Think about it - he never create strategies, he never tries to understands what is it he tries to fight with, he never initiate the battle, he accepts battles, when he can’t avoid them.  You’d think that he just escalate this part of job to The Mage, but then, (say to compare with HP) he doesn’t exactly bothers The Mage with questions or he doesn’t try to find out what Humdrum behaves like this and what is he plotting. 

Oh, yes, plotting. See, we could say  - you know, Simon is just like this, he’s quite passive, he hates to think or take action, but it’s untrue. Simon, in fact, has 3 antagonists: first one is Humdrum, which was given to him, second one is Mage (which as Voldemort in HP both created him and destroyed) and third is the only one antagonist he actually chose - Baz, the handsome vampire. Because Simon chose him (and Baz accepted). it is this antagonist he is really fighting and very passionate about: he thinks about his plotting every day, he cracks his secret/superpower, he finds his weakness and “defeats” him. Simon is capable of active fighting, thinking and strategising.  

WHY Simon is so NOT invested in fighting Humdrum?

Let’s take a look at Humdrum and Simon, using Penny’s method, aka - what do we know, here I gathered a small table of data for these two:

So clearly, you can see that Humdrum is very unusual antagonist. Yes we can see that like in many pairs protagonist-antagonist there are a few opposite qualities of them, and it’s normal, it is trigger to fight dynamics. But at the same they are sort fig leaf to hide from Simon (or reader) who Humdrum really is.  Humdrum - is Simon’s doppelgänger. And that is VERY important, let’s look at this from writer point of view, it is not your usual antagonist-just-a-person-who-have-opposite-beliefs-or-hates-you-for-some-reason. This antagonist is VERY attached to protagonist, he is in fact his continuation. 

WHY would you want to write exactly this type of antagonist, what do you want to say?

I have multiple answers to go through.

1) To show Simon’s complexity. To show _protagonist_ complexity and somehow preserve the certain image of him. In “Carry On” Simon (at least for me as a reader) associated purely with soft and positive features, he is the definition of the good and kind hero. Yes, he’s impatient and short tempered, but he is empathic, he is thoughtful, he cares about most of the people around (he protect and shield his _chosen_ enemy, Baz. He won’t end him without second thought when he finally has opportunity - the scene in catacombs), he doesn’t hold grudges or avenge betrayal, he always tries to think above the things, see the whole picture, kinda look past himself. It is very high EQ and it is my dream character. But realistically for kid who had no one to raise him to love and understand people; with tough childhood - it is impossible to have no dark sides. Again, remember how annoyingly for reader neurotic HP would be in books? Well, guess what, his dark side is still in a book, it’s just detached from him, to not spoil his image for reader. Perhaps, because at this point (introducing the character) his dark sides are not allowed to make impression and they are not important YET. 2) To allow protagonist to do things he want to do, but can’t. This is “Jekyll and Hide” type of protagonist and yes, this is fair for Humdrum too. He destroys things and doesn’t feel bad about it. He “mundane” and again, he doesn’t feel bad about it. He doesn’t have to go to magic school and still - he is known, strong, dangerous. But most importantly - he can express his negative feelings. He is unhappy to be forgotten - he attracts attention (quite brutally); he is unhappy to be the only one who left to deal with trauma - he reminds about it - he summons Simon exactly at the place where bad things were happening (Lancashire) and he takes the form Simon probably tries to push away from his mind; he dislikes Mage - he talks to the Mage harsh and dismissively and laughing at him; the only people which Humdrum snatches/damages away from Simon are Agatha and Baz - it might be some sort of jealousy expression, and surely he express his jealousy about Simon’s skill and development. And IF he really hates the magic - he sure express his hatred good too, by literally destroying and he allows himself to feel pleasure from act of destruction (the face expression Simon never saw on his own face). And often, this reasoning for introducing doppelgänger goes with implying that protagonist has hidden desires to not be as good as he currently is. What doppelgänger does, it is what protagonist secretly desires to do.

To sum this these 2 points  - they _usually_ lead us to the point that protagonist is not as good he thinks he is. And while it is partly true - I believe, it is NOT Humdrum purpose. 

3) While Humdrum is surely threat to magic, is he Simon’s antagonist, really? Does he hates Simon? Do his actions have purpose to destroy what Simon have/created? It is a big no, to all these questions. 

Humdrum is metaphor for Simon’s trauma, he tries to shove away from himself.

Many people talk about Humdrum in the book, but most informative are - Penny, Mage and Baz, Simon and Humdrum himself.

Penny, I believe, is an author’s reflection in the book, so her words are clues), and she tell us - that Humdrum face is his real face (he is Simon), he’s childish and Simon’s dealing with negative emotions frustration/fear/annoyance/going off brings him joy (genuine childish laugh). She also tell Simon, the reason why he have to fight Humdrum - cause he the only one who can (and have to) do it.  Which is true. Mage - who is the real Simon’s antagonist and evil in the book - is the one who setups the reality “Humdrum is evil, you have to fight it”. Which can be easily translated to “Your feelings/experiences are not valid, you have to get rid of them”. He also setups example of not being important as a person, but being important as a weapon, to sharp your blade constantly if you wish. 

“Look at me, Simon. Have you ever known me to indulge myself with a normal life? Where is my wife? My children? Where’s my house in the country with my cosy chair and a fat cocker spaniel to bring me my slippers? When do I go on holiday? When do I take a break? When do I do anything other than prepare for the battle ahead? 

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.”

Again - it translates to these old methods of dealing with trauma: fight it, ignore it, experience more trauma to make yourself numb. It doesn’t work. Mage doesn’t care about Simon. But in a way, Simon follows his instructions.

Baz - he is the symbol of healing love Simon needs (one of his defining quotes is “I chose you” - returning Simon everything what was taken away by Mage at that point)  he have experienced Humdrum only one time, but it’s enough for him to figure it out precisely. He understands that Humdrum is Simon (or his part) and he does not hesitate to confront Simon with it, because it is important. And he the one who tell Simon the aftermath of ignoring Humdrum. Baz is the one who - finally - triggers Simon to act. He also the first character who sees Simon (and Humdrum) and accepts them as whole. And still loves him.  Simon - he doesn’t talk about nature of Humdrum a lot. He hardly bothers to describe fighting scenes in a past. But he clearly indicates how he avoids Humdrum, thinking about Humdrum, thinking about time he will need to deal with it. He doesn’t want to have any touch points with it, even when he’s confronted about it. He shouts at Humdrum when he sees his own face on him, but he never thinks that Humdrum is him. Because it’s all painful. Humdrum - is pain he released and locked himself out of it. That is why he reluctant to deal with Humdrum, though it his life mission. He only do it if he have HAVE TO. And then - he will take the pain/fear/negatives and lock it in Humdrum again (make magic holes bigger) and leave. So he can stop thinking about him again. And finally, Humdrum. He thinks a lot, he has time for it. And he know exactly who he is. And when Simon is ready, when Simon’s is finally ready to face him by his own will, he tells him who he is:

“It’s the Humdrum,” I say. “It’s you on the day I found you.” His eyes are wide and soft. “My boy—” “I’m not him,” the Humdrum says. “I’m not anybody’s boy.” “You’re my shadow,” I say to the Humdrum. I’m not afraid of him now. “More like an exit wound,” he says. “Or an exhaust trail—I’ve had loads of time to think about it.” “The Insidious Humdrum,” the Mage whispers. “It’s a crap name,” the Humdrum says, bouncing his ball. “Did you come up with it?”

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.” 

He is willing to talk about himself and all this scene he is strongly communicating on Simon’s side, but not on Mage’s. He behaves like he is Simon’s ally and they have the same goal. He’s open about his wishes (to evolve, to be like Simon, to be the one with Simon), he is open about what happens if Simon’s continued to follow the Mage’s instructions ( “He’s right. End everything. All of the magic.”). 

The scene of dealing with Humdrum doesn’t feel like Humdrum eliminating, but more like becoming one with him, finally accepting what was shoved away, belated debts payment. It is very sad but beautiful scene.

“I’m sorry that all the good stuff happened after I left you.”

“The Humdrum puts his hands over mine and gives me a small nod. His jaw is set, and his eyes are flinty. He looks like a little thug, even now. I nod back. I give it all to him. I let it all go.”

At the end - Humdrum and Simon became one, like it was before Simon first went off and got his magic at 11 year. Now he back to the same state and next book he is dealing with trauma (not the way he should, unfortunately). 

Maybe the key of getting powers back is to learn how to live with Humdrum and not ignore him. To accept yourself, to find yourself. Maybe use Humdrum powers too. “Someday dragon. Someday ferocious.”

p.s. The negative power of sucking off magic reminded me about Dementors in HP a bit, in a way, that’s what made me think about Humdrum as trauma or depression. At the same time, sometimes, Humdrum would show us, that he is still a doppelgänger of Simon’s and have the same thoughts  - like his phrase about “it’s it better than fighting” about Baz is quite the same as Simon’s.

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 87

Emma

Slow dancing and kissing in the middle of the floor had been as perfect of goodbye as a goodbye could be. Sebastian had updated his playlists. There was nothing sexual. Every song was I love you, I've been waiting for you, I'm happy you're mine. Intense love songs. I felt every one. I stayed in the moment, focusing on how good this felt. We held each other, swaying to the music and alternating between my head laying on his shoulder, gazing in the other's eyes, or kissing. We were in our own little bubble. There was nothing but how his body felt against mine, how he smelled, and the look of his face. All I felt was encapsulated in a swirl of feelings. Love, joy, and a touch of sadness hiding on the edge.

The bubble burst with the knock on the door. Time to go. there was no chance of getting through this without tears. Strong emotions always bring tears. I don't fight them. Letting them out feels better. I don't think emotions are anything to be ashamed of or hide. They're also not something to manipulate others with.

At the car, we were both crying. Not holding onto each other sobbing, just tears.

Saying goodbye was hard. His "I love you. I'll miss you. I'll talk to you Later. Send nudes." broke the sadness enough to get the car door closed. I watched him slide away. I wiped away a few more tears before talking myself down. Six weeks was a long fucking time, but it wasn't forever. It would probably feel like it, however.

My solution was to avail myself of the Air France business class lounge. Two shots of tequila and I switched to wine. It went better with the cheese. I was going to have to hit the gym hard when I got home. And eat better. Not today though I was sad and there was free cheese.

As usual, I was asleep before we reached cruising altitude. I woke up with about five hours to go. Fingers crossed that helped with the jet lag. I put on my favorites playlist and read until we landed.

Emma ~ I’ve landed Sebastian ~ Yay! Emma ~ Go back to sleep. Sebastian ~ XOXO

I knew he had an early call time tomorrow. It was only five pm here in New York. Closer to seven by the time I got back to Sebastian's place. I made it long enough to throw a load of laundry into the washer and the cheese into the fridge before crawling into bed. I took over his side of the bed, sniffing the pillows to find the one that smelled most like him. I curled around it and was out.

Five am was the latest my body was going to let me sleep. That was eleven am in France. So too early for New York and kinda late for France. I grabbed my phone to take a sleepy selfie but was distracted by my text notification. Sebastian had sent me a picture of him reclining on a couch, not in our rooms, with Guiletta asleep on his chest.

Sebastian ~ Found someone new to sleep on my chest.

I continued with my original plan to take an up-close picture of my eyes peeking out over the top of his pillow. My hair was a mess, my eyes look half-asleep, and there was a faint pillow crease on my temple. Perfect.

Emma ~ I miss you too

The sun was up with a bright blue sky. Since it was Saturday the traffic at this time of day would be much less. I had a clean pair of shorts, but not a shirt. No problem. My boyfriend had t-shirts. A little big, but perfectly functional. Runners, earphones, keys and I was out the door for an early morning run.

The city was beautiful. sunlight crept around corners and over the tops of shorter buildings. I ran south past the 9-11 memorial to Battery Park. I'd always been fascinated by the metal world with tears and chunks missing. The first time I'd seen I'd said out loud, "It looks like the world blew up." I guess I wasn't far off. The sculpture had been in the World Trade Center Plaza and been damaged by falling debris. I was only eight and all I remember was my parents being glued to CNN for hours. It would be years later, when I called the city home, before I really understood. As much as a non-native New Yorker could.

The worst thing about running this early was all the stores were closed. The best thing about running this early was all the stores were closed. I admit my shopping had been out of hand. In my defense, it had been a very long time since I'd had someone to dress up for. Don't take that wrong. Beacon dates with a man or friends was an opportunity to dress up. Coming into New York to be with Angie and Eli was a good opportunity. Both opportunities I used well. Still, having a man appreciate what you wear and how you look in it is another level. I know what I look good in. I'm not changing my choices for Sebastian, or any man, but I will take his preferences into account. Shopping right now would be a bad idea. I’m sure I'm packing around a few extra pounds of cheese, bread, and wine. I'm hoping all the walking mitigated some of the damage.

On my way back, a couple of blocks from Sebastian's the city was waking up. More people and sounds. I realized tonight would be the first time I'd been alone in the city in about five years. I made plans to sit in the dark and just listen. I picked up a bagel and a smoothie that I was told would rejuvenate me. I wonder if the barista could tell? I broke into Sebastian's stash of nut butter. Half a bagel with cashew butter the other with almond. Cashew was better.

Being alone in his space is weird. None of my stuff is here. It's like a hotel, but not. I got a little nosey after I'd showered and dressed. Not in a going through his drawers and medicine cabinet nosey. Looking at his DVD and CD collection. Running my fingers down the spines of his books, pulling out ones that caught my interest to thumb through. I made a stack of things I wanted to read. I did go through his kitchen pretty thoroughly. It looks like a single man who travels and eats out a lot lives here. He doesn't have flour. How does one not have flour? He does have quite a condiment collection. I threw out expired things and made a list to replace them. That led me on a short journey to see if there was anything else he was almost out of and added things to the list.

Time to call the best friends. Angie picked up on the third ring, her voice excited to hear from me, "You're home!"

"I’m at Sebastian's. I meet with my advisor Monday."

"I want to see all the pictures and hear all the stories. We're going out tonight. Some friends are playing. You're welcome."

"Can I let you know later? I don't know what the time change is going to do."

"Absolutely. So.... " the paused after dragging out the word, "are you missing him? How was goodbye?"

"Goodbye took forever. Neither of us wanted to let go. At least half a dozen last kisses. Sucked. I miss him, but I'm okay. I'll be fine when I get home and am doing stuff. I've cleaned expired shit out of his kitchen and made a grocery list."

"That's cute. Hope he thinks so."

I hadn't thought about his opinion one way or another. I was just getting rid of shit before it stank up the place. "He won't care."

We talked for a while, deciding we'd do brunch tomorrow.

I was bored. I didn't lack for things to do, but I didn't have a routine here. Especially not without him. It didn't feel like home without him. Once I'd figured that out I was good and went about making myself at home.

I'd changed Sebastian's ringtone from "Dancing Queen" to my favorite part in "Every Time I’m With You." It was near the end after a heavy drumbeat "cause every time I'm with you I feel wanted. We could make believers if we dare. We're just two believers if we dare." It was incredible the first time we'd danced to it and it was incredible now. I heard it about six, midnight in France.

I'd barely registered his face before I heard his voice, "If I put that picture on my laptop and my laptop in the bed, I can pretend it's you."

I felt warm all over and smiled, "Yes, you can. Tell me about the first day of shooting."

"It was good. Long, but good. I'm comfortable with Jess and I like her direction." He told me stories that made me proud and made me laugh. "I did well today. What have you been up to?"

I gave him a quick rundown on my day, leaving the bit about making myself at home until last.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I can't believe you restocked my kitchen. Thank you. Do whatever you want to feel at home."

"What if I reorganized your drawers because your way doesn't make sense?"

"Have at it. I'll just think I forget and think I did it."

"And your kitchen so it flows better."

He shook his head, "I don't know what that means. Knock yourself out."

I laughed, "I didn't do either."

I loved the lines that formed at the corners of his eyes when he genuinely smiled. Like now, "I don't care what you do. I just want you to feel at home.”

Now we were where I wanted to be, "Here's the thing... my favorite foods in your kitchen, finding where I'm most comfortable to work on my laptop, and figuring out where has the best view when I want to relax with a book are good, but it's not enough. Doing all that did help me figure what's missing."

"What's missing and where can we get it?"

"It's free and I already found it. You make where ever we are home. You're my home."

"I'm your home." He looked a little dazed.

"When you were in my place I felt at home. At your parents, I felt at home. Being at your place with you I was perfectly at home. Paris too. Now I’m back and I did things to feel at home. Took a while until I realized its missing something. You. When I'm with you, wherever we are, I’m home."

I could tell he was processing, by the way his tongue moved, "I like that."

He kept thinking, squinting his eyes a little, "I don't know if you're my home. Not sure where home is. Sometimes I don't feel at home in my own skin. I like that I’m your home." He cringed, "The next couple of weeks are going to suck for you."

I banred out a laugh, "No, once I knew what the issue was I adjusted. I'm good now."

"You don't miss me anymore?"

"Oh, I miss you a lot." Were transitioned into silly conversation.

"Ok, good."

I gasped, "You want me to suffer?"

"Terribly." His eyes were wide as he nodded his head. "So much so that when you see me again you throw yourself into my arms and hold on so tight I can't breathe."

"Therefore making you suffer."

"Yes, please."

I did end up going out with Angie and Eli. Thankfully it was a jeans sort of bar. My hope was if I stayed moving I'd fall over, get a good night's sleep, and get back on New York time. It was a good fun night.

Sunday I took a run before getting ready for Angie to come over. I'd bribed her with her favorite home-cooked meal. I had her take pictures of me in various outfits around his apartment. At one point Angie rolled her eyes, "I can not believe I'm taking pictures of you rolling around in his bed."

"Six weeks, Angie. I suck at selfies. I need a stockpile to pull from."

"What you need is a class in basic photo editing on an iPhone."

"I know."

We went back to her place, stopping for supplies on the way. A few hours later we were feasting on cilantro lime salmon,  a creamy garlic parmesan orzo, and a greek salad. I've taught Angie to cook this several times, but she tells me it's never quite right. I think she skimps on the butter and that's a big no. And a healthy splash of the Sauvignon blanc lifts the whole thing a little.

Sebastian and I exchanged texts over the course of the day. A comment or question with stretches of time between answers. Mostly from him. I got excited when an unexpected text came through. His response to my dinner picture was a request for the same meal. Maybe with his parents.

Monday was a busier day. I had to dress like a doctoral student, pack my bags, clean up after myself, and plant surprises like the notes I keep finding in my condo. Mine are more fun. The green g- string from concert night is mixed in with his boxers. A couple of dresses parked next to something they matched well. A peach tank top mixed in with his workout gear. I had Angie take a picture in each room. Printed and framed them. My favorite is me sitting on the toilet. It has a lovely frame and is now on the wall across from the throne. I wanted everything ready for me to leave for home straight from my advisory meeting

My advisory meeting lasted a little over three hours. Three good hours. Dr. Kershaw had been appointed my advisor. I'd taken a class with her while working on my Master's and my second winter in Beacon, but at the time I'd been excited to work with students and studying digital classroom technology was something I wasn't wanting to explore. I wanted to be hands-on molding little minds and still wasn't sure what I wanted to do, but I'd enjoyed working on our team's website. Google Classroom was functional but limited by design. Three hours later I had it narrowed down.

Sebastian had texted me good luck this morning with a picture of his face, eyes closed and lips puckered. I'd sent back a picture of my legs, crossed at the ankles with my skirt draped to the side, while sitting in his favorite chair. I was more than halfway home when his ringtone came through my vehicle's speaker. I hit the button, "Hey, baby."

I could hear his smile in his voice, "Sounds like your lunch went well."

"It did!" I was still excited from lunch and the phone call with Angie after. "I like my advisor. There's only ten of us in the program with the plan to add ten more each fall."

"Wow!" He interjected. "So being accepted is even more impressive."

"Yeah." I was proud of myself. "Small and first-year makes everything very personalized. All of the potential classes overlap with other programs. Cognitive theory from Psych, advanced reading from Education, some Education Law and leadership, computer tech, and even game design. We spent a lot of time talking about what I’m passionate about. In the and I’m thinking I want to focus on reading intervention and programming for K-3."

"Which is what you're passionate about."

I laughed, "and you."

"And me. Did you just talk about direction or is there a plan? What coursework did they accept."

"The fifteen hours I've taken will apply. We designed a basic timeline. I've taken six hours the last two years. I'm confident I can handle that with work and having a life. If I want to take more I can. I don't want to take classes in the summer. Those are usually compressed and pretty intense, plus I'm not in a hurry. Somewhere in the middle, I write a thesis, which looks at a problem or a hole in what already exists. That will feed into my dissertation. I can either do research and design an experiment like comparing existing programs or create my own product."

"Any idea which way you want to go?"

"None at all. I figure the thesis will help figure that out."

"And when do I have to start calling you Doctor?" The seductive tone in his voice told me "have to" wasn't going to be a hardship.

"Three to four years. No summers and using the last semester for my dissertation is four. If I add a class in a couple of semesters or summer and do my dissertation concurrently then three. I have to be done in ten. I'm thinking I’ll figure out what I want to do the first two then design and implement the last two. A lot will depend on how long that takes." He couldn't see me, but I was waving a hand in the air. "It will work itself out."

"I love you."

"I love you. Enough me, tell me about your day."

We talked the rest of the way home where we had some fun.

I called Seattle and went through it all again with Ed. He was as excited and proud of me as was Seb. I found it a little sadly ironic that my lover was in a time zone six hours ahead, my family was three hours behind, and the ones in the same time zone weren't going to know for a few days. I didn't trust them to not take away from my accomplishment, neither did Ed, which meant they'd have to wait. Hell, they barely knew I'd been in France. They'd get to know once I was finished celebrating with people who would just be happy for me. That pushed a Georgia phone call off to the weekend after the volleyball tournament. Maybe after practice tomorrow if I could get my school lunch bunch to come for drinks, I’d even buy. I had no problem funding my own celebration. I just wanted my friends there. Angie and Eli were coming for the weekend. Maybe I'd call while they were here. Eli could make angry faces while Angie tried to scold him. Then either way it went we could drink our way through. That was a good plan. I texted all involved and they agreed.

I ran back out to the grocery for fresh berries, yogurt, and wine to go with my cheese. I bought other good for detox items and healthy foods. A stopped by a smoothie shop for a raspberry white chocolate protein drink. It was amazing how quickly I slid into my summer schedule. Run to the gym to work out. Run home. Have breakfast and practice guitar. Do whatever until it was warm enough to go lay by the pool and read or float. Have dinner, meet up with friends, volleyball practice, or lay on the couch with Netflix

Sebastian and I would text sporadically throughout the day. About nine my time, so three am for him, I'd send him a picture. One Angie took or something I'd taken during the day. He always woke up to see me. Some days that was more arousing than others. We talked almost every day. Maybe five minutes or an hour. Night shoots were the worst. He was working while I was awake and I was asleep during his time off.

The weekend Angie and Eli came down was fun. Friday night we stayed in watching movies and drinking. Saturday's tournament was going well until storms came through. The radar said there were hours of rain left, so they canceled. Since all our plans had been canceled we decided on a bar crawl. Which meant Sunday was spent recovering. We went to brunch at the riverside restaurant where Sebastian and I had our first date. On the drive back I made plans for calling Georgia. Angie and Eli were my get away plan. We went out on the back patio. I set up my iPad where they would only see me, but I could see my support system.

Dad picked up almost immediately, “Hey, Emma. You’re home. Amy told us you were in France.”

“Sebastian had an event so we made it a short vacation.”

“Sounds fun.” My mom had entered the frame. “I bet you appreciated things you overlooked before.”

I laughed, “I did. All those things I saw pictures of later and wished I’d paid more attention to. We had a good time.”

“That’s great.”

Time to dive in. “I wanted to tell you some good news.”

Amy jumped into frame and interrupted, “Can I hear too?”

I ignored the question and just went on, “I was accepted into a new Doctoral program at NYU. It’s education and digital media. It’s new so we’re building my program as we go.”

“That’s great news, Emma.” Dad looked excited, “Dissertation and everything?”

“Yes, it can be research or designing a project. I’ve got about three years to get that figured out. They accepted the post-grad classes I’ve been taking.”

“Congratulations, sweetheart. We’re proud of you.” Mom’s smile was bright.

“My baby sister is going to be a Doctor. I need to figure out my future.”

I shook my head, “You’ll figure it out. What’s right for you and my beautiful niece. She’s a job and a half.”

“I am not enjoying this age.”

“That’s why I teach first grade and not kindergarten or preschool.”

We talked a bit more about school, what was going on there, and how things were with Amy and Max. Mom asked about Sebastian, where he was, and if things were good between us. Instead of shutting her down, like I had in the car, I talked about him.

Not a minute after we hung up Amy texted, “How’s Sebastian feel about calling you Dr? *wink*wink*”

I sent back, “Exactly, like that.”

I closed my tablet and looked at my friends. I was not comfortable. Sure, the conversation had gone fine, but it didn’t feel fine. “That went better than expected.”

“This time.” Eli grimaced, “Sorry.”

“That’s what makes this so hard. This looks normal, but it’s not. If it was, I wouldn’t have this not in the bit of my stomach and want friends here when I talk to them. That’s not normal.”

Angie came over to kneel beside me, bringing me into a hug, “No, it’s not. You don’t need us when you call Seattle.”

Eli joined us, “I don’t think they know what they’re doing, but it doesn’t change it, Emma.”

I laughed, “I know.” I kissed his cheek. Dealing with my parents was worse for him than it was for me. I hated seeing people I love hurt too. I wasn’t hurt though. It was a weird numb.

“You ok, Em?”

I met Angie’s eyes, “I am. Just weird. The happier I am, the more good things going on, the more distant I feel. The better I’m doing, the less supportive they are.”

“Yep!” Eli didn’t hesitate to agree. “And that’s not alright.”

I mussed his hair, “No, it’s not.”

The next week was more of the same. I registered for my fall classes and my books were delivered by Wednesday. I started reading. Yes, I'm that student. I liked to get a head start. I'd never taken classes in the fall. The first month of teaching was exhausting. It took time and energy to get first graders ready to learn. I wasn't sure how that would work with starting my classes. Getting ahead on reading seemed the safest approach.

Thursday afternoon Sebastian called. Drunk. I guess wrapping in Paris was worthy of a party. The rest of cast and crew were packing up and heading to Rome. Sebastian was flying halfway around the world to San Diego's Comic-Con. He'd spend thirty-two hours of his four day weekend in a plane, which meant he was drunk and a little grumpy. By the time I was done with him he was still drunk, but no longer grumpy. He was naked, smiling, and satisfied. Well, as satisfied as he could be over the phone. Even drunk he was insistent that he not see me masturbating for the first time on video. We should have taken care of this.

I set an alarm for the middle of the night to make sure he was awake and would make his plane. It was worth it to lay in bed together.

[solalunar-eclipse]

Scars You Can’t See - Chapter 7

Chapter title: Exhaustion

Word count: about 3300 words

Author’s Note: Thank you all for being so patient with me during the months this fic was on hiatus...but thankfully, the wait is over! I hope you all enjoy!

No warnings for this chapter, though it is pretty dark.

First | Previous | Next

...

The team had been working nonstop through the past several days, spending hours upon hours at different libraries throughout Westopolis and the surrounding areas. They never used the same one twice, so they couldn’t be traced. Hopefully.

Loading the full video and an explanation onto the three different USB drives they had bought took up most of that time, since it required a lot of formatting and download time and they couldn’t stay in any one place for too long. Rouge was the most talented with technology from her hacking experience, but slow Internet connections were something even she couldn’t work around.

Shadow really wanted to be a major part of the process, but his struggles with the video itself had posed serious issues for his involvement. While he had eventually been able to view the other part of the film, he’d still had a strong reaction and then needed an hour to decompress afterwards, all while feeling frustrated at (in his words) his “lack of self-control”.

Rouge and Omega were strongly opposed to that wording, since it suggested that his trauma- because it was trauma, despite his arguments- was something that he could control.

In the end, Shadow was often forced to take a backseat during much of the work, or else his mental state would be a mess throughout the rest of the day. He still helped out in any way possible, though, even if it was something as simple as going out to buy food to keep Rouge’s strength up.

Today was the final day. Team Dark was fully prepared to make a post on three of their main social media pages, and all three envelopes with the USB drives inside had been mailed out (under the false cover of being simple job application letters). They were headed to three different media organizations, which- while not necessarily mainstream- were at least somewhat reputable and sympathetic to their current cause.

While it was still unlikely that the general public opinion would change after this information release, there would hopefully be enough supporters for this to mean something.

At exactly 12:00 p.m. on Oceanic Standard Time, ten days after Team Dark had stolen their original files and fled capture by G.U.N., the videos were released out into the world for everyone to see.

At 12:01 p.m., OST, as the team watched from a public computer, the Internet basically exploded.

All three of the team’s accounts were flooded within seconds, ablaze with accusations, conspiracy theories, and more. The best were the expressions of sympathy and support, though. Those boosted the general mood in the room while providing the three with enough bravery to actually write back to a few people.

There were a few particularly vocal supporters who the team members recognized right away… it seemed that the members of Team Sonic had grown tired of sitting around while their friends put their lives on the line and were now channeling all of their frustration into their keyboards. The team’s morale only rose higher. (However, considering the depths they had been in before, this mainly meant that they seemed almost normal again.)

Through it all, G.U.N. remained silent.

The team decided not to stay at the computer for long- the organization was always watching and probably had some of their best hackers on the case already. Shadow grabbed a couple of books before they left, but none of them really even had the energy to read at this point. They’d spent so many late nights going over and over the wording of everything they would say and every move that they would make, and the replies they’d given just now were carefully considered by all three of them as well.

As soon as they made it back to the hotel, Omega whipped out his charging cord and shoved it into an outlet, and Shadow fell face-down onto the bed. “Oh chaos. Oh chaos we’re really in it now, aren’t we.”

Rouge sighed, sinking into a chair and massaging her brow. “Yes, we are. It's worth it, though.”

“I know.” Shadow muttered into the bedspread. “It’s just…” he trailed off, uncertain as to how to express his thoughts.

“...exhausting.” Rouge finished his sentence for him. “It’s tiring to work so hard on something, all the time.”

The hedgehog pointed a gloved finger at her briefly, before letting his hand fall back onto the mattress. “That sums it up perfectly.”

They lay there for awhile, just allowing themselves to rest after the frenzy of the past few days.

Eventually, though, Shadow forced himself to sit up. “So what are we doing next?” he asked, a frown set low over his eyes.

Rouge got to her feet, exhaustion weighing down her movements. “I think we should probably take a couple of days before we do anything else, hon. That was a lot of work.”

“I know,” Shadow said quickly, looking down at the mint-green sheets of the bed. “I didn’t mean to suggest that you weren’t working hard, I just-”

“I didn’t think you were.” she said gently. “I know you want to stop them as soon as possible, and so do I. But...we’re not in any shape to do much like this- being tired always makes people sloppy.”

Rouge smirked faintly. “I learned that one the hard way.” she mused, recalling a particular heist that she’d tried to pull off after going 48 hours without sleep. It had not ended well, to say the least. 

“I’m gonna head down to that restaurant we looked at earlier. I need food.” the bat muttered quietly. Omega gave her a thumbs-up as she walked out the door.

Rouge wandered through the town, looking around. She saw so many different people, all of them going about their ordinary lives, and reminded herself that soon enough, the world would be just a little bit safer for them to enjoy. This raised her spirits, if only slightly. Just enough that she felt like being a little more friendly to the (likely overworked and underpaid) workers in the restaurant than usual.

In fact, she suspected that recently when she had gone out to eat, she’d come off as almost as sulky as Shadow- constant work and paranoia really took it out of a person. Today, though, her work was temporarily finished, and she could take a deep breath with, if not relaxation, then at least a certain amount of freedom.

Rouge got her food quickly, but with a (perhaps a little too) bright smile and a cheerful wave. 

She left a sizable tip in the glass jar out front, all the while trying to ignore a little voice inside her head that whispered you should give that money to others, you won’t be needing it for much longer…

The bat hated trying to imagine just what G.U.N. was capable of, as well as the potential consequences of their actions. That was exactly why she spent the rest of the day relaxing in her room with Shadow and Omega, mostly reading or playing board games with them. As nice as it was to be able to relax and not obsess over sentences and file formats, they all missed being able to go about their ordinary lives, instead of having to control their every move in order to stay alive. She could feel it in the atmosphere of the room. 

Out of nowhere, Rouge felt the sudden fervent hope that Shadow’s motorbike and Omega’s weapons collection would be okay. She had seen the occasional picture of Club Rouge during her time spent working, and it was all cordoned off and dark and sad...she had made a lot of fond memories there. 

Whether or not some of those memories were of kicking particularly irritating patrons to the curb when their behavior went too far was entirely nobody else’s business.

Rouge hoped for another day or two like this before they had to do any more work- they needed it if they were going to succeed. Shadow had dark rings under his eyes and this was Omega’s first day in over a week where he hadn’t gotten a “power low” warning. If they tried to pull off the kind of heist she had in mind like this, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

The next morning, however, it became clear that Team Dark wouldn’t get that kind of luxury until their work was completely finished.

Allowing herself one quick yawn as she strolled downstairs (given that her fangs could appear quite menacing to those without them), Rouge traced a familiar path to the hotel’s breakfast buffet, planning to fill the gaping void that was currently her stomach.

Her shoes clicked across the tiled floor, irritating her tired ears, and the too-bright lights didn’t do anything to help her overworked senses. She seriously considered just going back upstairs and hiding under the covers for another hour or two, but the smell of pancakes and ripe fruit dragged her over to the long table that held the complementary food from the hotel. 

Filling her paper plate, Rouge began to think again about G.U.N. and the various...unsavory tactics she’d seen them use over the years. Often enough, the soldiers in particular were not above frightening or intimidating those groups of people they saw as ‘threats’ while simultaneously politely cooperating with those that didn’t. While she did her best to distance herself from those kinds of people, filing a complaint would only get you a reprimand or even a hint that you might be fired. No real action was ever taken against those who had joined the force to hurt instead of protect.

She had seen, though, that the commander was definitely trying to make the organization a better place- the raid on Space Colony ARK had clearly left an impression- but that didn’t mean he was succeeding. Over fifty years of brutality, violence, machismo and deceit were not so easily rooted out, not even if the person trying to create change was at the very top. The bat had seen a few too many people being beaten mercilessly by a soldier long after they’d shouted their surrender to think that G.U.N. was all good. Indeed, fighting first and asking questions later was ingrained in the very foundation of the organization.

But whenever Rouge’s mind went down these pathways, there was one thought that always rose above the rest…

While she may have seen what they did, Shadow had lived it.

Rouge sighed, trying to control her violent emotions that always appeared regarding that particular event, and took another pancake. The poor hedgehog had dealt with so much already, and now this...she truly felt for him. They were constantly on the run, always trying to stay ahead of the entire military organization, and despite his status as the ‘Ultimate Lifeform’, she knew that he was struggling. Shadow would insist otherwise, of course, trying to carry the world on his shoulders as he so often did.

She knew better, though.

Rouge glanced upwards to get another look out the window, the general paranoia that came with being a spy too deeply ingrained in her body to ever fade. There were plenty of times when it was just a nuisance, if not embarrassing, but right now those reflexes came in handy.

That was when she saw the five G.U.N. agents talking to the receptionist out front.

She took a deep breath, standing very still at the table. Panic would not help her now. Rouge took two very deliberate, very slow steps to the side, obscuring herself behind a helpfully placed tiered food display. 

The bat caught a snippet of conversation. One of the agents was talking to the man at the front desk, asking, “Have you seen someone matching any of these three descriptions?”

The receptionist frowned, leaning in closer to study the photos, and Rouge decided it was about time to get out of there.

She put her plate down slowly, and then walked purposefully but calmly back to the stairs. Once she was sure that they couldn’t see her any longer, she beat her wings and began to fly up the stairwell as quickly as possible.

Once she got into their room, she slammed the door shut, catching Omega’s attention from where he had been constructing a paper-clip chain. Rouge allowed herself two deep breaths before rushing over to the bed and shaking Shadow’s shoulder with surprising gentleness.

“What do you want?” he mumbled, his eyes only half open.

The bat beat down another wave of nostalgia for relaxing weekend mornings (focus, Rouge, your lives depend on it!) and instead gave him a sad smile.

“They’ve found us.” she said, shattering her teammates’ relative peace in an instant.

Shadow practically catapulted himself out of bed. “G.U.N.? What? When?”

“Yes, five agents, and just now.” Rouge said, beginning to pack up their few belongings.

“What shall we do?” Omega asked, an almost staticky tone creeping into his voice. It had the effect of making him sound rather more dangerous than usual, which was probably intentional. “I would be happy to burn this building to the ground. Just say the word,” he said, revving up his flamethrower.

“No burning.” Rouge said, and it was evident just how used to Omega’s antics she was that this statement was delivered in a completely calm tone of voice. “Here’s what I’m thinking. We split up- there’s only so many of them there. We’ll get out of here any way we know how. Meet up at 9:30 outside that waterskiing shop. Got it?”

“Yes.” Omega and Shadow said simultaneously.

“Alright, good. Omega, take the suitcases. Let’s go.”

She threw herself out the window as Shadow teleported the robot down into a nearby alleyway before vanishing again. Her wings folded tightly against her back as she shot down the side of the building, her fingers nearly skimming across the steel and glass. Rouge forced herself to trust in her wings, snapping them out at the absolute last moment before she could hit the ground and hoping that nobody in any of the rooms had seen much more than a red-and-black blur.

She almost laughed to herself- that used to be Shadow.

Laughing wasn’t something any of them did much anymore.

She stalked through a dark alleyway before rushing down a couple of blocks, trying to get as far away from the hotel as she could on foot without being too suspicious. By now, G.U.N. would have realized that the team did not look like they used to, which would make it a lot more difficult to escape their notice.

Rouge spotted Shadow moving quickly several blocks down, and made an immediate left to stay away from him. There was still over an hour until their rendezvous time, and until then it was best to stay away from one another. A hedgehog and a bat together would only draw the organization’s attention. 

Rouge forced her legs to take one step in front of the other- she had to stay moving. The bat was...a little too used to pushing through exhaustion when simple survival was her only goal. Memories of having to hide after heists, constantly walking to nowhere just to stay away from the police surfaced vaguely in the back of her mind. Rouge was still tired from nights of obsessing and writing and rewriting with Shadow and Omega, and this new stressor wasn’t helping at all, forcing her back into the same introspective cloud that always surrounded her whenever important things started happening.

Yet at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to feel afraid of what could happen should she get captured. It was almost as though she wasn’t truly awake. She was worried for the rest of the team, it was true, but they were all already in such deep trouble that it almost felt as though she’d maxed out on stress.

As she walked, Rouge wanted to feel something more, some sense of a higher purpose to keep her inspired…

...but when it got down to the basics, change wasn’t always glamorous court battles or powerful arguments delivered to roaring crowds. Sometimes you just had to keep pushing and pushing and pushing until finally someone took notice and listened to what you had to say. It was tiny steps, day by day, almost like trying to grind down a mountain with a single stone. Despite being part of the catalyst, she couldn’t see any of the effects from here.

Was anything even changing? Rouge didn’t know.

She shook her head, trying once again to bury these thoughts in the back of her mind. This was just like a mission. Do the task, then think about the bigger picture afterwards.

The bat briefly wondered if this mentality was why the organization had gone downhill before forcing herself to focus. Right now, she needed to use her instincts. That was all.

…

After an hour, during which she had to hide behind a dumpster (in other circumstances, she would have laughed and called it cliche) to evade G.U.N. pursuit, she met up with the other two at the waterskiing store. Thankfully, Omega had managed to acquire a new car- their old one would have to be left back at the hotel and become more collateral damage, as much as they all wished otherwise.

They’d really liked that car.

Rouge and Shadow piled in, and the bat could only feel relief that Omega didn’t really get tired like they did, so at least there was low danger of someone falling asleep at the wheel. 

“We’re in the final stages now,” Rouge said encouragingly, trying to keep up morale. “Just this last heist to get more dirt on G.U.N., and then we’re free to do as we please…”

Shadow sighed. “I hope.”

“Perhaps…” Omega said cautiously, “...G.U.N. will get so busy with lawsuits that they will cease pursuing us after that. Their public image is...somewhat important.”

He didn’t sound like he believed his own words, though.

Rouge, feeling tired, had to practically beat her nagging thoughts off with a stick by this point. What if they never stop, the voice whispered. What if they just keep coming and coming until you give up because you’re just so tired of running-

“Rouge.” Shadow said quietly. “Are you doing the overthinking thing again?”

“What, hon?” she asked, feeling underequipped to have any conversation, let alone one about herself.

“The thing.” Omega called from the front seat. “Where you insist upon shouldering all of the burden simply because you’re the self-appointed team leader. That is not allowed in this car. At all.”

The bat smiled faintly. Even after all this work and exhaustion, they were still worrying about her. That kind of thoughtfulness was enough to relax her a little, and she leaned on Shadow’s shoulder.

“Let’s talk about stupid stuff for a little while.” she said firmly. “We should talk about something like, like- when we went to that one restaurant and Shadow ate like three bowls of their five-alarm chili in twenty minutes and won that T-shirt.”

Shadow smirked briefly. “It didn’t hurt at all and Sonic and Knuckles yelled at me for being a cheater. Having specially bioengineered taste buds has its perks.”

They reminisced about the good times, all three trying to keep the mood light and not discuss the elephant in the room (or car, as it were)- which was of course when they might be able to do that sort of fun thing again.

And then they were on the highway, and headed to what was hopefully the last place G.U.N. would ever expect them to be.

Central City.

[didanawisgi]

Opinion: Mandated Vaccinations — Who is responsible for their risks? 

by Heidi Wetzler

Clark County Today Administrator Heidi Wetzler shares her thoughts on the repercussions of COVID-19 vaccine mandates

“If I am mandated to receive a COVID-19 vaccine in order to keep my job, and subsequently experience an adverse event, who is responsible? Who is responsible if I have neurological complications, a heart attack, or a stroke and am never able to work again.  Who is responsible if I die?

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve read that neither the vaccine companies, the government entities imposing the mandates, nor the employers themselves will be held responsible in any way if the worst happens. In fact, from what I’ve seen and read so far, it will take a Herculean effort to prove that my adverse reaction was caused by the vaccine. Correlation does not equal causation, they say. But when you are counted as a COVID-19 death, correlation ALWAYS equals causation.

Recently there was a lawsuit filed against the federal government accusing the government of covering up the fact that 45,000 people have died within the first three days of receiving a COVID-19 vaccine. There are over 13,000 deaths reported to VAERS (vaccine adverse event reporting system) on the CDC website. This number is widely believed to include only 1-10 percent of the actual deaths that have occurred. And then there are hundreds of thousands of transient to severe reactions reported to VAERS.  That being said, I can easily find article after article debunking the accuracy of these statistics.  Anyone can report anything in the VAERS system, they say, so obviously it is not going to be perfect. But it is the ONLY avenue people have to account for their experiences. A line item on a discounted reporting system is the ONLY recourse one has when they believe they’ve lost their loved one to this “safe and effective” vaccine.

If the validity of every single one of these adverse events is going to be questioned, then can someone please direct me to the “verified” information? Where can I find the non-refuted deaths, heart attacks, blood clots, and neurological problems that HAVE been associated with the vaccine?  You can’t expect the general public to believe there are zero. So where is the data? In my mind, for each doctor, government official, and layperson to claim that these vaccines are safe, the risk of death needs to be zero. The risk of an adverse event needs to be zero. If that is not the truth, then the truth needs to be spelled out in black and white. Where is it? Informed consent. Where is it?

I’ve heard the following argument for getting the vaccination a nauseating amount of times. The argument is that the deaths and risks from the vaccine pale in comparison to the deaths from COVID-19. If you knew ahead of time that you or your child were going to die from this vaccine would your heart be comforted by the fact that “so many more people died from the virus?” This debate is illogical on a personal level. This is a decision that should be based on each and every one of our own personal risk and benefit analyses. Speaking of children, in the 2017-2018 flu season 643 children died. To date, 332 children have died from COVID-19. Mass vaccinating children with an experimental product, who are at little-to-no risk of harm from this virus, is in my opinion, grossly negligent.

There is now compelling evidence that the vaccinated spread the virus with the same viral load as the unvaccinated. So what the heck does it matter if I get the vaccine or not, if it is not protecting the people around me at all. The argument that the vaccinated are protecting the unvaccinated is moot. Why are the same ineffective vaccines still being pushed? And now there is talk of boosters. Government contracts perhaps.

Another argument is that the unvaccinated are getting sick more often and taking up hospital bed space. I’ve heard the opposite as well. The truth is elusive. To this I say, 78 percent of those who have been hospitalized with COVID-19 are overweight or obese. As many as 95 percent of those who die are obese. So before we blame the unvaccinated for hogging up all of the hospital bed space, let’s first blame the obese. But that’s not appropriate to mention.  It’s much more acceptable to call those that are concerned about the side effects of the vaccine, selfish and deserving of death. Additionally, 80 percent of those that get COVID-19 have low Vitamin D levels in their body. How about we focus on this metric and see if we can drastically reduce the number of those that are becoming ill? But there’s no money to be made on Vitamin D.

I have watched countless videos, and read many more stories from health care professionals as well as individuals who believe these vaccines are causing grave harm. And this is only in the first year. Many more virologists, doctors and scientists purport that the majority of the deaths are still to come due to clotting, antibody dependent enhancement and a general weakening of the immune system. And the coming boosters will increase these risks. This information continues to be censored and suppressed. I’ve written in this space before about the global suppression of early treatment options and how 85 percent of those who have died from COVID-19, died needlessly without the aid of effective early treatment.

And why in the world are we not talking about natural immunity? Testing for natural immunity? Accepting it as an alternative to the vaccine? Natural immunity is robust and durable. They say “we don’t know how long it lasts.”  Well then I hope they are testing vigorously to find out. We already know the vaccine is failing before natural immunity. Conservatively, 100 million Americans have been exposed to this virus and are therefore immune. Those who had SARS-CoV-1 in 2002-2003 were still immune 17 years later, and those who survived the influenza pandemic of 1918 were still immune to the H1N1 outbreak in 2009-2010 a stunning 92 years later. Why is this conversation non existent? Especially when we are at a crossroads between those who are willing to get the vaccine and those who aren’t. My family has already had the virus and under normal circumstances, the medical community would agree that we are now most likely immune. For some reason natural immunity through infection is all of a sudden questioned.

You aren’t being forced to get the vaccine, they say. You just can’t have a job they say. Well if that’s not medical coercion, then please tell me what is. Most people need to make money to eat.

Lastly, there is the issue of variants. Variants of viruses with animal reservoirs such as COVID-19 will exist until the end of time. They will never go away. I’ve read that vaccinating during the height of a pandemic causes stronger variants. The virus has not had a chance to weaken, which normally takes 2-3 years. The vaccine is applying non lethal pressure to the virus, which is encouraging the creation of stronger variants. This could help to explain why we have a nation with a fairly high vaccination rate, dealing with a strong variant.

If my choice to not get vaccinated, ends up with me dying from COVID-19, then that has been my choice. That should remain my choice. No one needs to protect me from myself. In all honesty, I am terrified of the vaccine. Just as many are terrified of COVID-19. We need to demand the adverse event statistics they are gathering and refusing to release. This is a continuing trial period, so you know they are tracking everything and have copious data. People are hesitant because calling it completely safe is irresponsible and untrue. The suppression of known risks is nothing less than malfeasance from our government and medical professionals. We won’t know the gravity of this experiment for 10 years or more.

As long as 480,000 Americans die from tobacco-related illnesses each year, and we still have tobacco products on the store shelves, you will never convince me that the government cares about my health. Which is fine by me. That’s freedom. This is about power and control that they never want to relinquish and it will take every single one of our voices to overcome that.”

[backpfeifenguy]

The Boy’s No Good: Chapter 1

Note: This story is a sequel to All In Your Head

TW: Emotional abuse Beast Boy was feeling… excited? Maybe? He wasn’t sure exactly what he was feeling right now, but he was feeling it, because today was definitely a special day; today was the day that Raven brought her boyfriend to the tower. Her boyfriend? You fool, YOU should be her mate! He was really happy for her; she’d had to deal with so much, it was nice to know that she had someone. She could be yours if you weren’t such a coward! His Beast… wasn’t quite so supportive. She hates you. And his anxiety issues were, as always, unhelpful. But honestly, he didn’t care; Raven was an amazing woman, and she deserved to be happy. If Raven’s mysterious boyfriend could manage that then he was alright in Beast Boy’s books.

Pathetic! You spent years trying to make her smile; years! And now someone else was having some better luck; just as long as she had a reason to smile. It’s not as though you’d ever be that reason. He really needed to meditate; ever since Raven taught him the basics he’d come to rely on it to keep himself centred. It wasn’t a daily thing like in Raven’s case, just when he really felt like he needed to; usually about three times a week. 

About an hour later, Beast Boy was feeling a lot better; his head was much clearer, and his Beast seemed to have gotten the message and shut the hell up. Funnily enough, Raven seemed to be the opposite of his relative calm; it was honestly a novel experience. She was pacing back and forth, scowling and muttering to herself; the picture of anxiety.

“He’ll be here any minute, so be on your best behaviour, okay?” Raven turned to face their leader. “Nightwing, no interrogating him.”

“I already said I wouldn’t!” Nightwing chuckled; he’d mellowed out more than a little. Beast Boy suspected Starfire was the cause.

“Cyborg, take it easy on the ‘protective big brother’ act this time.”

“I know, I know.” He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry again about the goth kid.”

“Starfire, I know that this is difficult, but please don’t hug him too tightly.”

“I will endeavour to avoid causing any harm or discomfort.” Starfire replied solemnly.

“And Beast Boy…” He braced himself; this was likely to be thorough. “You’re probably fine.”

“Wait, seriously?” Beast Boy asked, mildly stunned.

Raven shrugged. “You’re good at making friends. I trust you.” 

“I, uh… I won’t let you down.” Said Beast Boy, blushing faintly.

“I know you won’t,” replied Raven. The doorbell rang. “He’s here,” she noted, making a beeline for the door. After a moment, she walked back in, a man on her arm. “Guys, I’d like you to meet Leopold.”

He was, in Beast Boy’s inexpert estimation, handsome enough. Well, if you liked 6’2”, broad shoulders, lean muscles (they’re all for show) and a strong jawline; personally, Beast Boy considered the whole ‘classically handsome’ look to be kind of overrated. That said, he could see the appeal of those big, cobalt-blue eyes and that swept-back chestnut-brown hair, at least in theory. But he supposed that, if you were looking for the sort of conventionally attractive guy who had tanned skin and perfectly straight white (blunt) teeth, Leopold wasn’t too shabby. 

To his surprise, Leopold went right past the other Titans and walked right up to Beast Boy, hand extended. “It’s great to finally meet you; Raven’s told me so much about you.”

“That’s a loaded sentence,” Beast Boy quipped, shaking Leopold’s hand. It practically went without saying that Leopold had the sort of firm handshake that was typically associated with honesty and overall strength of character. And of course he had a relaxed, disarming smile; at this point, anything else would have been ridiculous.

“Relax,” Leopold chuckled. “It’s mostly been good things.” There was no denying it; Leopold had some serious charisma. Beast Boy had known the guy for less than two minutes and he already liked him. And yet… something about him felt a little off; Beast Boy had learned to trust his instincts, and they were telling him that something was wrong.

“So Leopold, how did you and Raven do the meeting?” Starfire asked politely.

“We met at the library,” He explained. “Our hands touched when we both reached for Fear and Trembling, we got into a conversation, and suddenly it was closing time.”

“We spent three hours talking philosophy,” Raven said, a tiny smile on her face. “After that, I figured I’d take a chance and ask him out.”

“That sounds about right,” Nightwing chuckled. “Flirting over Kierkegaard.”

“Raven’s nothing if not consistent.” Said Cyborg.

“I just don’t get why no-one beat me to it,” said Leopold. “With her brains and beauty, I couldn’t believe she was single.”

“I believe we have all expressed similar opinions.” Said Starfire.

“The dudes in this town are idiots.” Beast Boy said, firmly and confidently.

 “Yeah, but seriously; it’s just so weird!” Leopold exclaimed. “Normally when a girl like Raven’s single, you expect there to be something wrong with them.”

“Yeah, well I’m not exactly perfect,” said Raven. “I’ve got a few issues.”

“Well obviously, but I mean something wrong. Like, ‘everyone’s afraid to talk to you’ level stuff.” 

“So what do you do for a living?” Beast Boy asked brightly, eager to change the subject after seeing Raven’s discomfort.

“Well I’m working in marketing at the moment, but I’ve also been shopping some scripts around.” Successful and creative. 

“What are your scripts about?” Asked Cyborg.

“Well, my favourite’s about a brilliant, misunderstood young man struggling to make it as an artist.” Well, not THAT creative.

“Sounds great.” Beast Boy managed after a second. What must his other scripts be? A genius who’s a prick? A gay couple tragically dying for two hours of runtime? Hack. It occurred to Beast Boy that, for an entity originally composed of raw instinct, the Beast had gotten pretty good at sarcasm. 

“Very classic.” Nightwing noted, a barely audible tremor in his voice telling Beast Boy that he was struggling not to laugh.

“I’m already working on a few changes though;” He looked fondly at Raven. “The words have just come so much easier since we started dating. I think she might be my muse.”

“That is very sweet,” said Starfire warmly.

Leopold shrugged. “I’m just saying how I feel.”

They made conversation for another twenty minutes before Raven announced that she and Leopold were heading out. Moving quickly, Beast Boy was able to stop Leopold before he left the tower, the two of them alone in the lobby. “Hey Leo, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure,” said Leopold. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Look, I know this might sound a little weird but… just be good to her, okay?” He sighed. “Raven’s had a tough life, especially when it comes to love, so don’t hurt her.”

“Understood,” said Leopold. “I’ll take care of her. But since you’re here, I have to ask… do you have a thing for Raven?”

“WHAT?!” Beast Boy’s eyes bugged out of his skull.

“It’s just that, you know, you just walked right up to me, did the whole ‘don’t hurt her’ bit; feels kind of like you’re into her. Seriously, I’m getting some serious ‘unrequited love’ vibes.” His features arranged themselves into a confident, self-important smirk. “I’m a scriptwriter, after all; we know about this kind of thing.” Asshole.

“Relax dude, you’ve got nothing to worry about from me.”

Leopold’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Okay then; sorry if I got weird for a minute there. I know it’s dumb, but sometimes I get a little territorial about stuff like this. It’s like an instinct or something.” His face split into a grin. “I guess you’d know all about that, huh?”

“About what?” 

“You know, instincts and stuff!” He clapped a hand on Beast Boy’s back, a little harder than necessary. “I figure you’re the expert when it comes to raw animal impulse.” 

“Yeah,” Beast Boy chuckled awkwardly. Is he mocking us? How DARE he?! Tear him to shreds! “Total expert.”

“So,” said Cyborg, his tone measured. “Leopold.” 

“He seems nice enough.” Nightwing observed.

“Indeed,” said Starfire.

“Sure,” agreed Beast Boy. “But… did he seem kind of weird to you?”

“Weird?” Cyborg’s eyebrow shot up; he’d long ago learned to trust Beast Boy’s instincts.

“I dunno, I just got kind of a weird feeling from him. And the Beast really didn’t like him.”

That was worrying; as Cyborg understood it, the Beast wasn’t especially interested in most people; it viewed the world in the basic categories of friends, threats, and Raven, who it was strangely obsessed with protecting… oh. Oh! “What’s the matter grass stain?” Cyborg leered. “Feelin’ a little territorial?”

“Come on, dude!” Beast Boy exclaimed. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation here!”

“A serious conversation about Raven.” Cyborg replied, grinning hugely.

“That’s no surprise,” Nightwing quipped. “All his serious conversations are about Raven.”

“I think it is quite sweet, if misguided.” Opined Starfire, smiling indulgently.

“It’s not like that!” Beast Boy squeaked, blushing faintly. “The Beast just wants her to be okay; I just want her to be okay!”

As tempting as it was to keep teasing his best friend, Cyborg knew it was time to ease up a little. “Okay, so you’re sayin’ your upstairs roomie doesn’t like Raven’s boyfriend, so you’re feeling a little bit of totally platonic concern.” The sarcasm in Cyborg’s voice made it clear just how ‘platonic’ he thought BB’s thought process was. “Well, your instincts are usually good, so I think I’ll run a quick background check on the guy; criminal record, news headlines, that kind of thing.”

“He had an East Coast accent,” Nightwing noted, slipping effortlessly into ‘detective mode’. “Almost a Gotham, but not quite. Considering the Germanic name, I’m guessing Bludhaven; I’ll ask around with my contacts, see if anyone dangerous matching his description skipped town in the last couple of years.”

“And I will do the talking with some of the other Titans ladies,” Starfire offered. “We shall keep an eye out for untoward behaviour. I assume you would prefer that Raven not be informed of your concern?” 

Beast Boy shrugged. “I don’t want to worry her if it turns out to be nothing.” 

Starfire smiled warmly. “I keep my lip fastened around friend Raven.”

“That went better than expected,” said Raven. “Nobody did anything weird or stupid, and they all seemed to like you.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Leopold. “I was getting kind of a weird vibe from Beast Boy; I don’t think he likes me much.”

“Seriously?” Raven could hardly believe what she was hearing. “Weird; Beast Boy usually gets along okay with pretty much everyone.

“Yeah, well he seemed kind of… off around me, like he was on edge or something. Said some real weird crap to me just before I left.”

“Weird?” 

Leopold shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I think he might have threatened me.”

“He threatened you?” Raven asked, incredulous. “That’s… crazy.”

“Like I said, real weird.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” said Raven. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

Leopold smiled. “Thanks for that Raven. You’re the best.”

Well, that marks the end of chapter one! I hope you enjoyed it and, just for laughs, here’s a little game you can play; it’s called “spot the red flags”. Just read through the chapter looking for things that Leopold says or does that feels like a red flag to you, list them in the comments, and if you spot the most red flags by the time I start the next chapter, you win! Winners will be acknowledged every chapter, so have fun!

[hammerlocke-stadium]

C i j o for Raihan pliz? Also congratulations for hitting 500 followers!!!!! You totally deserve more!!!! :)

@ Anon 1: Thank you so much for your kind words I’m!!!

@ Anon 2: fluffaphet is such a cute shorthand for it omg

there was a couple more anons but i just deleted them bc theres so many asks already kjbbvkdjfv (to the anons that complimented me w ur raihan requests i would die for you)

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Raihan loves going on runs and walks with his s/o, basically anything active really! But he also loves going on picnics in the wild area with them as well.

Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He admires how strong they are emotionally! Dating someone who’s as famous as him is tough when the paparazzi try and ambush dates after all! Raihan thinks everything is beautiful about them but his favourite thing is their smile, especially when he’s the cause of it!

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Starts of by holding their hands and talking about anything he can think of, and when they start calming down Raihan gets closer and pulls them into his arms.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Lots of cuddles, making meals together and surprising each other with gifts, helping each other groom their pokemon and being happy and in love until they die.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Raihan is pretty dominant! But he’s willing to bow to what his s/o wants if his enthusiasm is making them uncomfortable, all Raihan wants is them to be happy with him after all!

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

When he’s fighting with his s/o Raihan tends to storm off to blow steam in the Wild Area so he can avoid saying anything he’d regret later in his anger. As long as his partner is willing to talk everything out, and have both of them walk out if they start getting angry again, then Raihan is pretty forgiving! He’s super big on communication.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Raihan is grateful everyday that his partner stays with him despite all the fans and paparazzi that follow him around so much. His partner tries to make him dinner everyday and swipes his laundry to do while he’s gone to lighten the load of what he has to do at home, Raihan’s heart bursts with love every time he comes home and finds them snoozing in a half folded basket of clothes.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Raihan shares most things with his s/o! But with things like the dynamaxed pokemon on the loose he doesn’t tell them until after its over with because then they don’t have to worry for hours or days or even weeks until the situation is dealt with; telling them after it’s done means they can get all the worry over in a day.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

His partner makes me him slow down and look at the things and people around him, he appreciates his friends a lot more upon realising how much attention is heaped on them just for knowing him. Raihan helps his s/o with being more confidant with them self. 

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He’s pretty confidant with his relationship! But if someone starts flirting with his s/o and doesn’t stop when they’ve told them that they’re already taken his jealousy rears its ugly head and he swans in to take his partner’s hand and walk away.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

I’m bias but he is absolutely a good kisser. The first kiss with Raihan is rushed and giggly, he’s so excited they return his feelings he ends up bumping noses with them and laughing as they kiss.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He’d do it in private, probably with a letter and some of their favourite flavours or if they’re allergic to flowers then their favourite food. Raihan would make sure they know that no matter their answer he still wants to be friends though.

Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Yeah Raihan wants to get married someday, he really wants to find someone he loves and loves him back enough to spend the rest of his life with. Raihan would propose with an Applin! Instead of an evolution item it would be holding a ring though. Marriage with him would be full of fun little games and spontaneous dates! It would probably feel like being in their honeymoon forever.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Babe, Love, Hun, Fae (bc they’re his greatest weakness ;) lmao).

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He’s naturally very touchy feely already so unless they’ve known him for a while they won’t notice that he’s in love.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Raihan doesn’t care about anyone’s opinion but his s/o’s about the pda but he refuses to hide their relationship like a dirty secret he loves them to much to pretend like they aren’t together.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He’s got a godly ability to open cans without the pin breaking off.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He can be super romantic! Raihan once wore one of those tuxedo graphic tees because his partner was sick and walked into the bedroom with a tray of soup (badly) pretending to be their personal butler because he knew it would make them laugh.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Raihan absolutely and unashamedly boosts his s/o’s endeavours on his social media accounts, he is their number one believer.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Both? He likes trying new things out with his s/o but doing something they know they both enjoy is just as fun.

Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Raihan knows his partner very well!! And he’s very empathetic, in fact he’s an empathetic crier so when his s/o get teary its tissue hell.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

His relationship is very important to Raihan, sure he loves being a gym leader and he’s honoured to be the one in charge of protecting the Hammerlocke vault but Raihan will drop those without a single thought if it meant he had a chance to be with his s/o for the rest of his life.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Raihan will unzip his hoodie wrap it around his s/o’s front then re-zip it up so they’re trapped in it with him.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

He’s very, very affectionate! Raihan loves kissing and cuddling but if his partner gets overwhelmed he’s happy too stop until they’re okay again.

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He sulks all the time while they’re gone, and channels all his energy into gym matches and training to distract himself from watching the clock to count the minutes until they’re home.

Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Yell heah he is! As stated before Raihan is willing to drop his job as gym leader and protector of the vault if it means he can stay with his s/o for the rest of his life. In his opinion having someone to love and be loved by for his entire life is more important than being recognised as strong or famous.

[s-kinkyslashers]

Im new to Tumblr so I'm not sure how to do this😂 but A-Z For Bb boi Jason?

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)Jason is very adamant on aftercare. He may take a moment to calm down but after prepare for constant concern. He’s a big boy and even as much as he tries to be gentle, he’s strong and will often accidentally leave bruises on your body.B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)Probably his hands, he can hold your hand with them and if he didn’t have hands how was he supposed to use them to touch you? He likes your tummy, no matter what it looks like. He enjoys just resting a hand on it. It has nothing to do with children and shit either. He just likes your tum-tum, that's it.C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)Not as much as you think but not as little as you wish, if that makes any sense. You’d look at him and think, this dude cums gallons cause he’s so pent up at times but he doesn’t but it’s not a normal load either. D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)Uh, Jason’s the kinda guy who’s “dirty secret” is just wanting to hold your hand.E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)He has absolutely no fucking idea what he’s doing. All he knows is what he interrupts by killing the people having sex near his lake but even then he doesn’t really pay attention.  F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)He likes holding you close, which is probably obvious. G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)He’s serious or tries to be. He’s not humorous but he’s something. H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)I suppose the carpets do match the drapes, depending on which Jason your wishes lean towards.I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) He tries to be romantic but he’s so easily flustered at everything that romantic turns into uneasy because he’s not “perfect” at this(In his opinion, not yours).J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)He doesn’t really masturbate, before you masturbation was non-existent, even with you masturbation is non-existent. He doesn’t need to, doesn’t want to.K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)He’s pretty vanilla but if hand holding were a kink, that would be it. L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)He likes doing it in the comfort of his/your own home(s). M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)If you wanna go, he wants to go. He gets a little turned on by you bending over, or accidentally bumping against him. He doesn’t mean to but his body just reacts to you.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)Water. No water. Please.O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)uhh, I mean he kinda lives to please you but he doesn’t enjoy when he receives oral. When he gives oral he has no idea what he’s doing, just that you seem to enjoy it.P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)At times he can be rough and/or fast but it’s unintentional(unless you specifically request him to be fast and rough). Most of the time he’s slow and sensual, making sure he doesn’t hurt or crush you.Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)Nah fam, quickies are for the idiots who try to have sex near Camp Crystal lake, the idiots Jason usually kills. He prefers for you two to take your time, why rush?R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)If you want to experiment, he won’t tell you no, unless it’s something really not okay with him.S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)He’s got more stamina than you originally thought. You’d look at him and think, as a big man who kills people on basically a daily basis he’d be able to go 2 or 3 rounds right? Wrong, he can get up to 5 rounds minimum, as long as you’re alright with how many rounds he can go.T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)No sex toys.U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)He wouldn’t know what teasing was even if you explain it to him a million times. So no teasing, no unfairness from him.V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)Jason isn’t a vocal guy. He doesn’t talk, most likely can’t talk and doesn’t really make many sounds during sex either. Occasionally he may grunt lowly but otherwise not much leaves his voice box.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)I...I have no idea what to put here, at least that’s NSFW? He’s not a complicated guy.X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)Big, thicc and ready to slay. Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)Before you his sex drive was 0% but now that he has you he can go from 0-100 real quick.Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)Once he makes sure you’re alright he’s quick to join you in “sleeping”, although often times he’d rather watch you sleep, so peacefully, instead of sleeping himself.

[itsclydebitches]

I would really love to hear your thoughts on Yang's PTSD arc. I hope you don’t think it was handled well. I forgot their account, but someone pointed out about how Tai's joke and calling Yang's suffering moping was toxic as shit. That’s not even getting into her curing her PTSD by killing Adam. Like the racism, it was offensively handled. FNDM loved it, but only because they used PTSD as way to confirm a ship. It’s disgusting for both parties to see/use PTSD like that, this has caused suicides.

First, I think it’s worth acknowledging that such an arc was doomed from the get-go in terms of pleasing anyone. PTSD is an incredibly complex, varied disorder and thus one depiction seen as realistic to some viewers may come across as absurd to others, depending on their experience, knowledge, etc. Like writing a redemption arc, or a dealing with sexism arc, or a breakup arc, whatever, a PTSD arc encompasses too much of the human experience to boil down into one, “right” depiction. Some people will like it whereas others won’t; some people will think it’s realistically done while others won’t; some people will be able to connect with it on an emotional level and - again - others won’t. So when I criticize aspects know that it’s coming primarily from a place of “This didn’t work for me.” Not a claim that it can’t work for anyone. Different people need different types of stories. 

That being said, I’m only really a fan of the beginning of Yang’s arc. I think RT did a good job there: having her unable to get out of bed, rejecting Ruby (which was HUGE for Yang), not seeming to care that her little sister ran off, eventually managing to get herself dressed but not anything past watching TV, emotionally flinching away from the arm as a way to “fix” the situation, her firm acknowledgement that she has lost a piece of herself and things will never be the same... that was all compelling and, dare I say, realistic. Including, in my opinion, the arm comment from Tai. This is a perfect example of how different people need different things. Me? I’m Yang. At a certain point I want people to joke about the bad stuff in my life because 1. It helps normalize it, 2. It helps lighten the mood after nothing but Bad Times, and 3. I’m an emotionally constipated person who more comfortably receives affection via humor than heartfelt sentimentality. The important takeaway is that just because you would have been offended by Tai’s comment doesn’t mean everyone else would have... and the really important thing is that Yang wasn’t offended. She smiled. She laughed. She joked right back and we never saw that comment haunting her later, implying that the previous stuff was all just an act. That moment told us how well Tai knows his daughter and what she needs at this point in her recovery: to be treated like normal, someone who is teased and pushed and challenged, not a delicate victim who needs to be tip-toed around. This is also a great example of how the fandom will often ignore the canon in an effort to “prove” their headcanon/subjective reading. Because they want Tai to be the bad guy here they’re just going to conveniently ignore Yang’s response to his comment - the response that overtly tells us whether we should be offended on her behalf or not.  

So all that was well done. I’d even go so far as to say it was really well done. The problem is RT didn’t maintain it. Not that a character has to be in this depressive state indefinitely, just that things moved far too quickly after that and (as per RWBY’s usual) had no impact down the road. Meaning yeah, Yang’s hand shakes, but that doesn’t actually affect her performance in any way. She’s still able to spar playfully with Tai. Still able to punch out an asshole at the bar (a moment played mostly for comedy). Still takes out Raven’s goons easy-peasey. Is still willing to fight Raven herself - her long-lost mother - with barely a blink. Still participates in the Battle of Haven with, again, absolutely no difficulty. Indeed, as I’ve mentioned before, Yang removes her arm and goes after two maidens and a third, incredibly powerful fighter. Not only is that stupid for anyone on Team RWBYJNOR to do, it makes even less sense to give that moment to the one fighter who should currently be struggling to fight at all. 

The problem comes down to structure. RT front-loaded all of Yang’s difficulties, had her hit a moment where she’s “cured” (putting on the arm), and from then on any “proof” that she wasn’t cured was superficial. It had no impact on her or the plot. Conveniently, Yang’s two flashbacks - in the kitchen and in the Apathy barn - happen when there’s no danger. She’s safe with Tai and safe with Blake, meaning that her PTSD never has a negative impact on the group that Yang has to work through. She never freezes during a battle. She never struggles with whether she can even enter one. Indeed, when she’s faced with the very person who caused this all in the first place, she blasts through Adam with total confidence and control. After Volume Six I received a few anons/responses claiming that this is, in fact, realistic. That anyone with real (“real”) PTSD will struggle when they’re safe but be perfectly capable of pushing through the actual danger if needed. It’s something Steven Universe did much better in my opinion. Steven starts experiencing his most overt symptoms when his galactic war is over - something the show actively has him question and then explains - but the PTSD still has a massive personal impact on his life. I don’t agree that Yang should have been able to confidently blow through every battle like she did. Even if we all unanimously agree that it’s realistic (which, from what I’ve gathered, we don’t), this isn’t a documentary. It’s a crafted story and stories have expectations attached to them, one of which is that we’ll see the impact/outcome/resolution to problems in a way we often don’t in real life. That’s one of the reasons why they’re satisfying via being “unrealistic.” That aside though, even if RT really didn’t want the PTSD informing the plot in that way (what does the group do if Yang can’t fight at Haven?) they could have at least pulled a Steven Universe and had it change the dynamic of the group on a personal level. As it is, no one in the show acknowledges the strong connection between Yang’s PTSD and her current behavior. She’s always been hot-headed, but lately we’ve seen Yang making even more reckless choices (telling Robyn about Amity) and taking her anger out on others inappropriately (the bird conversation, screaming at Oscar, etc.) At no point does the story go, “Hey, you might be doing this because you’re still grappling with PTSD, but that doesn’t make it okay. We need to address this.” Rather, Yang’s PTSD has been forgotten and her behavior continually excused. To the extent that this volume multiple people told me it was absurd to think that Yang should struggle at all with Adam’s death. That’s the legacy her arc has left: such a shallow treatment of the issue that the ongoing nature of PTSD and killing your first person and having that person be the guy who cut off your arm is a combination of things that Yang is expected to just shrug off with a cocky smile. Because that’s mostly what RT has had her do. 

Again, there are expectations for stories. Another of which is that - in rejecting realism - a character need not (necessarily) be burdened by their mental health in the way someone would be in real life. I 100% get that RT wouldn’t want to write Yang out of the group as a fighter just in the name of telling a “realistic” story. I also 100% get that the audience doesn’t (again, necessarily) want to watch a character struggle with the same issue indefinitely, especially when the story’s in-world time doesn’t match up with real life time. If you decide Yang needs two years to start making significant progress with her PTSD, that’s going to take a whole slew of volumes considering we’ve had four covering just one year (at most). People don’t necessarily want eight years of RWBY content where it feels like Yang is static. So yes, there’s a balance to be struck between “This is what PTSD is actually like” and “This is what a fictional story needs.” On the whole though, I don’t think RT did a particularly good job striking that balance. They started strong, but weren’t able to maintain that quality.