#i am obsessed with the fact that this boy has so many ghosts surrounding him

[saessenach]

What is honor compared to a woman’s love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms… or the memory of a brother’s smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.

Jon Snow - and family that haunts him, because sometimes ghosts make for the best love stories.

[necropxlis]

Loving Someone ~

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Mentions of depression and anxiety, Blackmailing, possible gas-lighting, slight swearing, possible mentions of sex.

Type: HaikyuuxReader high school/college SMAU

Pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader

Status: On Going

Summary: Y/N Miya gets the chance of a life time to play volleyball in California for her Senior year in high school. Giving her the opportunity to play for a well known team in college. Along the way she meets a someone who can change her life for the better. But will the people she surrounds herself with, allow her this fleeting moment of happiness? Or will they plot her demise for the sake of her career?

Word Count: 1,886 w/out text or social media counts

Chapter 5: My First Kiss 

Walking down the stairs, you saw Iwaizumi standing outside your dorm house. A smile spread across your face at the sight of him shuffling his feet around. He had a slight scowl on his face, which was almost normal for him. Sporting a black jean jacket and a white shirt, he looked better than he ever has. The washed-out jeans and black Nikes only added to the glorious look. Shaking your head and slapping your cheeks, you got out of the trance you were in and opened the door. Iwaizumi snapped his head up as you walked out. A small smile tugged at his lips.

“Hey uh..here’s your bag.”

“Thank you! I appreciate you doing this for me.” You said grabbing the bag from him.

Iwaizumi smiled and rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s no problem. Well I should get going-“

“Wait!” You grabbed the sleeve of his jacket causing him to stop. Lowering your head you stared at your shoes. Honestly, you don’t know why you stopped him. It’s like something came over you and you couldn’t stop it. You both stood there a moment, neither making the effort to say or do anything. The air around you was still. People continued to move all around you. It was as if you were the only ones frozen in time.

“Would you stay? For a little while?” You asked not bothering to lift your head. For the fear of him seeing your glassy eyes and rosy cheeks. The truth is you were alone. Everyone was moving on with their lives, meeting with family, enjoying their time off from school. While you had nowhere to go, no one to stay with, no one to talk to. Iwaizumi had been your first friend. Sure he may be older than you, but you considered him to be a close friend nonetheless. A part of you knew this would happen when you accepted the offer. That you would probably be spending a lot of time alone. Not being able to see your brothers 24/7 has taken its toll on you. The three of you were always together. No matter what you did or how many fights you got into, you were the best of friends. The fact that they aren’t able to see you or come to a special moment in your life sucks. When you met Iwaizumi, it was like finding a piece of home. He reminded you so much of your brothers. He made you feel happy and safe.

Turning around and grabbing your hand, Iwaizumi began to pat the top of your head. Albeit a bit awkwardly, but it made you feel comforted nonetheless. Lifting your head slightly, you noticed the slight tint of red that dusted his cheeks. It could have been from his actions or the chilly weather outside.

“Come on,” Iwaizumi said leading you away from the dorm house, “There’s someplace I want to show you.”

The two of you walked in silence, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Your heart was beating out of your chest from nerves and anticipation. Not once did he let go of your hand. His grip was tight but not too rough. It made you feel warm at the small affection. Even if it didn’t mean anything romantically, it meant everything to you. Looking around, you noticed that you were no longer walking on the cement grounds. Instead, it was dirt and grass underneath your sneakers. Chirping could be heard all around you. Birds and other wildlife were tending to their own needs, while the pair of you trotted down the pathway. A steep hill stood in front of you.

Iwaizumi looked back at you and smirked, “I promise the climb will be worth it. Hold on tight to my hand.”

You swallowed the knot in your throat and nodded, allowing the boy to lead you up the hill. It’s not that you were scared of the hill, just the thought of the burning in your calves that would haunt your dreams later. Not only that but the constant reminder that he was holding your hand, made you feel like you were back in middle school. No one should be crushing this hard. It made you feel so stupid but you weren’t about to let go. Following Iwaizumi’s footsteps, you finally reached the top of the hill. The air around you began to swirl, leaves danced and twirled to its song. Splashes of purple and pink covered the sky as the sun was telling the world goodnight. A few speckles of light started breaking through the color, begging to be seen by the night sky viewers. The city ahead was lively, street lights starting to waken, people turning into their homes to escape the cold night. The grandeur of it all took your breath away. Not once did you dare to look away, for fear of missing something magnificent bound to happen.

Green orbs followed your every movement. When you grabbed a hold of his jacket, he knew something was bothering you. He often felt like you did, alone in a country with no familiar faces around. He knew how hard it was not to be able to see the people you love when you want to. All of his friends would call him foolish, but he cared for you. In you, he saw himself, back when he was a senior in high school and the world was against him. As the sun decided it was time for its slumber and the moon woke, the light in your eyes never diminished. He prayed to whoever would listen, that that light would never fade. The lights from the city never looked so beautiful as it did at this moment. With their white and yellow beams striking every feature on your face. He didn't know what came over him, but Iwaizumi grabbed a lock of your (h/c) hair placing it behind your ear. You turned to look at the male standing beside you. If you thought the view was breathtaking, the caring human in front of you was the killing blow. You have never seen his face soften this much. It was a look you hoped to see for the rest of your days.

It could have been something in the air or the intimacy in the moment, but it seemed as fate was pulling you closer. Without breaking eye contact, you turned towards him, shyly placing a hand on his chest. Iwaizumi’s free hand grazed over your waist. Deciding whether or not to commit to the action. His green orbs never left yours. You could see galaxies behind those eyes. As if you were staring into some crystal ball that allowed you to see all the possibilities in the world, but you would never trade any of those alternate universes over where you were now. Angling his head down slightly, you pushed up on your tippy-toes to meet him halfway. People say that when you kiss the person you love it feels like fireworks are exploding inside of you and around you. For you, it just felt right, as right as the waves crashing against the coast. It was a moment that you would cherish for the rest of your life. Pulling away slightly, your face regained its rosy color across your cheeks. Iwaizumi chuckled and ghosted his knuckles across your cheeks. As if reality had stepped in, you realize what you had just done. Fear struck you harder than any emotion at that moment. Stepping away from him slightly you placed your head in your hands.

“What have I done? Iwaizumi-san I’m so sorry-“

“I told you to call me Hajime, and stop, it’s my fault I got caught up in the moment I’m sorry.” He said grabbing your arm causing you to stop and look at him. The look on his face was one of guilt, he felt like he was the one to blame for you feeling the way you were.

Grabbing his hand you stepped closer to him, “Hajime, I don’t regret it, I have wanted to do that for a while now. I don’t want you to feel this way, I only stopped because I thought you had a thing for Luna. She talks about you all the time so I only thought-“

Hajime laughed. You didn't know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing that he found this so amusing. Turning his back towards you, he rubs the back of his head. You looked down and started playing with your fingers. Hoping that he didn't regret kissing you. You never liked wearing your heart on your sleeve, you wished that the one time you did, it wouldn’t end up with you crying alone at 3 am. Turning back around towards you, Iwaizumi grabbed both of your hands, looking you dead in the eyes.

“I never have, nor will, have a thing for Luna. She has been obsessed with me since I dated her older sister. She hasn’t left me alone since I broke up with her either. Luna has no say or hold over my feelings Y/N.” Hajime said with a huff at the end.

Tears began to pool in your eyes. You didn't know if you were comprehending what you were hearing. Hajime had feelings for you? Did he care for you? He and Luna weren’t dating? Part of you wanted to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him again. The other part of you was worried about what your brothers would think. What about that weirdo who keeps sending you messages? They threatened Kita, what would happen if they found out about your feelings for Hajime? Cupping your cheeks in his hands, he slowly leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

The moment, the emotions, the scenery, it was all too perfect. Nothing should ever be this perfect. Grabbing his hand, you lead Iwaizumi over to one of the trees surrounding the hill. You both sat and leaned against the tree, with your head on his shoulder. Not once did you let go of each other’s hands. Playing with his fingers, you realized you had forgotten about being lonely. You had forgotten about the possible threat to your life. Things felt a little more bearable with him by your side.

“Want to tell me why you were so worked up earlier?” Hajime said tilting his head sideways.

You sighed, “the twins aren’t able to visit me while I’m on vacation. Nor are they able to come to the game. I miss them so much.”

It was silent between the two of you after that. It’s like you both knew the pain of being away from home. The two of you stayed like that for a while before it got too late. When you both got back to the dorm house, Iwaizumi stopped you before you went inside. He placed another kiss on the top of your head before letting you go. When you reached the door, you turned around and waved him goodbye. He smiled and waved back, watching you enter the building completely before making his way back home. You felt like it was so cliche. Confessing your feelings to someone, their feelings being reciprocated, the walk home after, but you wouldn’t want it to happen any other way.

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 | 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳  6

𝘚𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴: 𝘠/𝘕 𝘔𝘪𝘺𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘺𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭. 𝘎𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦. 𝘈𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴? 𝘖𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘳

𝘛𝘢𝘨 𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵: @missingmystogan @elianetsantana @prettyinblack231 @intoomuchfandoms

Tag list is open ☺️

[msbluebell]

Happy Birthday Dimitri

Dimitri is an important character to me.

I didn’t expect him to be. Not to me, personally. When I went into the game, I expected that he wouldn’t be my favorite. I figured he’d be the tragic fallen hero, but I didn’t think he’d hit so many buttons for me.

People like fallen heroes, and I do too, but they’re not usually my favorite characters. When I picked up this game on my way home from a trip, I looked at the cover and thought, “Claude is going to be my favorite.”

But somehow, someway, this boy hit home for me.

Maybe it’s because we get to see him before he fell apart.

Well, alright, this isn’t accurate. He was never all that put together when we meet him in game. He already had a darkness in him, and he already experienced tragedy that would lead to his downfall later. We met this boy, and I didn’t think too much of him. He was the most polite, and sweet, and those were my thoughts. My first playthrough was of Black Eagles house. Now, you all know I nearly didn’t pick the game up again I disliked Black Eagles so much. But Dimitri wasn’t why. When I killed Dimitri in the game all I thought was, “What a shame. I’m sorry guy. You seemed nice enough. I’d spare you if I could.” I’m not going to lie, I felt like his anger in CF was justified even before I cared about him. But I didn’t expect the sheer depts I would come to care for him when I was playing that first route. I obviously played church route next, since for the most part I had half got through the playthrough. And in that one I wanted to help him, but couldn’t and I thought again, “Ah, what a shame. Can’t save you here either.” Except this time we got a little more. The ghost scene got to me. It showed me his guilt, and that’s when I started paying more attention to Dimitri. I had intended to save Golden Deer route for last, but after CF and SS, I thought I deserved self care, and went with Claude. Though this time I was a little regretful I’d leave Dimitri behind. Because I understood what tragedy befalls him when you don’t choose him. Because I know that this sweet boy becomes so angry, and so regretful, and I wished there was a way to save him. Claude was a great character, and I adored him, and I adored Golden Deer. It was the break I needed after CF and SS. I loved them, and I loved their themes, and I loved their energy. I was convinced that they would be my forever favorites. My only real regret was that Dimitri died again. By this time it seemed almost horrific what was going on with Dimitri, and he somehow seemed worse off in this route than the other two. He was crazy, downright insane, and somehow lost an eye. And it was a shame. Something had obviously happened to him to drive him even further over the wall, but I didn’t feel too bad, because while it was tragic what happened to him, there wasn’t anything I could do. So I decide to finish up the game, and I’m not over invested. I like it, but I don’t think it’s going to be my fandom. It’s fun, I enjoyed it. That’s it. I’ll just finish it off and move on. Then I played Blue Lions. Dimitri had no right to do this to me. He had no right to come in and hit all my personal buttons, and make me care so much. I went into Blue Lions already caring a bit about Dimitri, but I didn’t expect him to claw at my heart the way he did. There’s a tragedy to Dimitri that spoke to me more than Claude, or Edelgard, or Rhea. It was more personal, it was more rough, it attacked a raw nerve in me I thought was healed but I suppose never did quite go away. Some people have asked me why I don’t like Edelgard, considering she’s an abuse survivor and I, also, am an abuse survivor. I think, with people who ask me this, they’re looking more at what caused the need to cope rather than the coping itself. Edelgard and I have suffered more similar abuses than Dimitri and myself, though I wouldn’t say my abuse and hers are the same at all. Still, for me, I think it’s the way we deal with the aftermath of our trauma that speaks to me more than the trauma itself. I didn’t like Edelgard, because even before the twist that she was the invading force in the game, I found her abrasive, dismissive, and unintentionally cruel where she was trying to be empathetic.  I just don’t like people who are sharp, I suppose. I never have.  I think that’s ultimately why I warmed up to Dimitri so quickly. He was kind. He is kind. He is so kind, and empathetic, that I adored him right away. I warmed up to him even more quickly than Claude, who I went in wanting and expecting to  be my favorite. He’s kind, and trying to be kind. But it doesn’t always work. I’ve got something called Hyper Empathy Syndrome. It’s a think, and it’s not really federally recognized, but my therapist says it’s a good way to describe what my issues are. I empathize too much. And you wouldn’t think that was a bad thing, but it is. It causes me untold anxiety, and I hyper empathize with people to the point where it’s almost hard to get mad at them, and I keep not wanting to let them down, and I feel guilty if I say no to them and it upsets them even a little. And, overall, it’s a huge hindrance on my life. I think Dimitri may be the same. Or maybe I’m projecting on him because I see so much of myself in him. Looking at Dimitri, and the way he developed. It was like looking to a mirror at some points and getting a glimpse into the shitty person I used to be.  Now, I’m not going to pretend I went through even half the bad shit Dimitri did. His sufferings just kept piling on and on and on over the course of the game, to the point I wondered how this boy was even alive. I wasn’t at all surprised at how bad off he was in Azure Moon, but sad. Oh, he was shitty. He was terribly shitty. But I got it. Because I’ve been there. I was younger than Dimitri was when I was shitty, so I’ve got that “middle school preteen hormone changes” excuse, but I was shittty. I wasn’t as bad as he was; I’ve never murdered someone, or nearly tortured a man, or obsessed  over a death, but I was just as unpleasant to be around. I was shit, because I wasn’t dealing with myself well. I had bad coping, and I felt alone, and used, and I couldn’t stop being angry no matter how hard I tried. My head kept telling me it was my fault, and everyone around me didn’t know how to deal with me, and they kept trying to drag me out of my comfort zone. And I lashed out against everyone around me, even though I knew it wasn’t their fault, and that only made me feel more guilty and alone and like I needed to be alone. And it was all only made worse by the Hyper Empathy.  It was a cycle of self hate and misery that I put myself through, and I saw that in Dimitri. And it hit home a little harder than I could have ever predicted.  I was rooting for Dimitri because I already loved him. I love him. He means a lot to me, and as I would come to find out her personifies everything that I believe about humanity; that no matter how bad we get we can still come back. Dimitri is someone that suffered, fell from grace, brainwashed himself into suffering more, all while suffering from a mental illness, and was still able to come back with some help and a whole lot of work and self reflection.  Dimitri is someone that was surrounded by loved ones who wanted to help him but mostly didn’t know how to, people who supported him, but it wasn’t enough. He had to pull himself out, with support. and it wasn’t easy. Hell, it wasn’t easy to support him either. There was a point where he got so low I legitimately thought there would be no going back for him. I almost gave up. But I didn’t want to, and I didn’t, and it’s because despite it all I still loved who he was and wanted him to get better. And he did. And I guess that gave me hope. I guess it made me hopeful that if he could get better from all that, then maybe it wasn’t impossible for other bad people to get better. It made me happy. It made me appreciate him. It made me thankful. Dimitri gave me hope that people could be better than they were, and I’ll forever be thankful for that. It’s actually not all that often a character affects me this much. And maybe it seems dumb to others that a fictional character could affect my life so much, but then again, no one has a right to judge me for where I find hope. Dimitri isn’t just a character I liked, he’s a character that gave me hope. He’s a character that came back from that bad place. He’s a character that basically looked at me and said, “You can come back from this.” And I’m trying so hard to be better.  Dimitri and I have a lot of the same issue. The guilt, the self hate, the blame, other things. And he still has people that love him, people that don’t give up on him. And, yeah, them being there isn’t always helpful, heck, in some case it makes his issues worse. But they’re there for when he comes back, and they help him, and that gives me more hope too. But nothing gives me more hope than the fact that he came back. And when he came back, he worked to be better. And he forgave. And I feel like that makes him so much stronger than me. Because I don’t think I could have forgave to the same level that he had. I couldn’t look the woman I thought ruined my life in the eye and forgive her. I don’t think I could face a man who did ruin my life in the eye after he told me he’d do it again in the name of justice. I couldn’t forgive to Dimitri’s level. He’s come a long way, Dimitri, and I am so proud of him. Happy Birthday Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, thank you for showing me I can be better.

[damienhaasbaybee]

Figured it out 😂 for the let's get personal, can I request that you do them all?

I DID IT BAYBEEEEEEE.

* 1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

I’ll Be There For You and Bad Medicine by Bon Jovi, In My Head by Ariana Grande, I Believe by Jonas Brothers, Air Force Ones by Nelly, and Chasing Pavements by Adele

* 2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

Harry Styles or Damien Haas so they can fall in love with me.

* 3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

“me that it was a sometimes temporary paralysis that causes damage”

* 4: What do you think about most? the fact that I have nothing to really work towards

* 5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

“I’m tireddd”

* 6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

without most of the time

* 7: What’s your strangest talent?

number and address recall 🙄 its embarrassing sometimes lol

* 8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)

girls go to college to get more knowledge boys go to jupiter to get more stupider

* 9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

fuck no lol

* 10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

um... today.. in the car

* 11: Do you have any strange phobias?

raw chicken.

* 12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

a piece of ice so i could pierce my nose.

* 13: What’s your religion?

christian

* 14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

um... if its for pleasure... swimming.

* 15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

behind lol

* 16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

of all time... linkin park or one direction

* 17: What was the last lie you told?

that I’m fine lol

* 18: Do you believe in karma?

v much so

* 19: What does your URL mean?

um... i am damien haas’ baybee and he is also my baybee

* 20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

weakness, helping people until I die strength, i am honest

* 21: Who is your celebrity crush ?

james marsden, david dobrik, zac efron, miles teller, damien haas...

* 22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

no

* 23: How do you vent your anger?

i sing real fucking loud

* 24: Do you have a collection of anything?

one direction memorabilia lol

* 25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

either works with me tbh

* 26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

yes.

* 27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

sound I hate: hearing others talk on the phone, sound I love: rubbing clean hands on a clean table

* 28: What’s your biggest “what if”?

what if I’m just crazy and none of this is real

* 29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

yes and yes. anything is possible.

* 30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

my comforter both times lol

* 31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

a clean house lol

* 32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

uhhhh Louisville

* 33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

west coast because i have never been

* 34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

Harry Styles

* 35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

to leave the earth better than I found it

* 36: Define Art.

art is everything and nothing that a person wants it to be

* 37: Do you believe in luck?

I do. circumstances create luck.

* 38: What’s the weather like right now?

pretty clear

* 39: What time is it?

10:08pm

* 40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

yes and yes! I won’t say what it was but it hit ME.

* 41: What was the last book you read?

I tried reading Girl Wash Your Face but couldn’t get into it.

* 42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

Yes

* 43: Do you have any nicknames?

yes I do... you can call me queen tho.

* 44: What was the last film you saw?

Legally Blonde

* 45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

several ankles sprained severely on each side.

* 46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?

no

* 47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

yes. damien haas.

* 48: What’s your sexual orientation?

bisexual, demisexual, pansexual????

* 49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

yes. I was pregnant.

* 50: Do you believe in magic?

no.

* 51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

yes, unfortunately.

* 52: What is your astrological sign?

cancer

* 53: Do you save money or spend it?

both!

* 54: What’s the last thing you purchased?

a carwash for my dads truck

* 55: Love or lust?

both

* 56: In a relationship?

somewhat

* 57: How many relationships have you had?

two

* 58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

no

* 59: Where were you yesterday?

home

* 60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

yes, my water bottle

* 61: Are you wearing socks right now?

no, never

* 62: What’s your favourite animal?

polar bear

* 63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

my hospitality (including dis mouf)

* 64: Where is your best friend?

idk, at home?

* 65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

oooooo bisquett, thebasketcase101, persistence-ofmemories, creativegoof, and zanesgirlfriend

* 66: What is your heritage?

I am part native american and european as far as i know. i want to do a 23andme so I can find out. My skin tans realllllly dark even with tons fo sunscreen on so that makes me think I have more Native American than I thought.

* 67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

I was definitely watching New Girl

* 68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?

idk... Jones?

* 69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

biiiiitch of course I have.

* 70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

Yes. I may suck but I am loyal as hell and I’ll do anything for my friends.

* 71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

save the dog, fuck that job.

* 72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

a) yes b) spend it with family and write a book c) fuck yes. i am terrified of death all the time.

* 73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

trust. love is nothing without being able to trust.

* 74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

It’s A Great Day to Be Alive by Travis Tritt

* 75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

1389.. not in that order.

* 76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

honesty and communication.

* 77: How can I win your heart?

buy me food and show me that I can trust you with my heart. I sturggle to trust people. I also NEED to be called pet names.

* 78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

Yes.

* 79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

Quitting my toxic ass job.

* 80: What size shoes do you wear?

9.5

* 81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

She did her best, even when odds were against her.

* 82: What is your favourite word?

I dont have a favorite but my least favorite is “creamy”.

* 83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

Love.

* 84: What is a saying you say a lot?

“ooooo bitch”

* 85: What’s the last song you listened to?

Always You, Louis Tomlinson

* 86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?

darkkk red and black

* 87: What is your current desktop picture?

bitch I aint been on there in so long, I have no clue.

* 88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

Donald Trump

* 89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

depends on who is asking, if its my family... asking my sexuality.

* 90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Fucking scream and run.

* 91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

Mind reading.

* 92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

Seeing my dads face when I walked across the stage at graduation or him telling me how I looked in my junior prom dress.

* 93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

Watching my dad die.

* 94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

Harry Styles.

* 95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

The beach, pronto.

* 96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

Not anymore

* 97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?

No

* 98: Ever been on a plane?

Yes. I loved it.

* 99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

Love others like you would like to be loved and see where that gets you.

[sherrybaby14]

One Night with Number Two

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

 Pairing:  Diego (Number two) x reader  (I try my hardest to keep physical traits outside of reader inserts, but for this story you are in your late twenties/early thirties)  

 Summary:  You return to your home town after Reginald Hargreeves dies and your plans to pay your respects don’t go as expected.

 Warnings:  this story involves NON-CONSENSUAL SEX (but it’s written sort of like dub-con/sex under the influence) but it definitely has consent issues.  Smut

 Words: 3500  

                When you heard Sir Reginald Hargreeves passed it was time to head home. While calling the man a dick was an understatement he was part of your childhood and always supported your parents.  

                The man had particular tastes when it came to everything, including his food, and would only use your father’s butcher shop for any cut of meat. His orders not only kept the business afloat but also put you through college and grad school.  Even if he was never nice to you, your family owed his.  

                Were they even a family?  He kept such a tight leash on them, but there was one who always accompanied him when orders were placed or picked up.  

                “Hi Y/N.” A thirteen-year-old boy ran up to the counter.

                 “Number two, don’t concern yourself with the proletariat.”  Sir Hargreeves tapped his cane. “I need extra steaks this week.  Two strips, four filets….”

                 Reginald continued on with his order, but your eyes glanced to number two. His eyes were wide as he stared right at you.  It made you so uncomfortable, you didn’t want to draw any ire from his father.

                The memories were like ghosts, surrounding you and playing out right in front of your eyes.

                “Hi Y/N.” The voice had dropped, but even at sixteen, he didn’t try to hide the love-sick puppy look. “Want to see a new trick?”

                 “Umm…can I take your order?” You picked up the pad of paper, still not sure what you ever did to draw Diego’s attention.

                 You glanced up and screamed as a knife whizzed by your ear.  Your entire body shook, unsure if you had been stabbed and couldn’t feel it from shock.  

                 “Number two!” Sir Hargreeves walked in the door. “Nobody likes a show-off. Y/N is not impressed and neither am I.”

                 “Sorry.” Diego stared right at you, not caring about disappointing his father. “Don’t worry Y/N. I’d never hurt you.”

                 “Get back to the car Number two.” Reginald turned his attention to the counter. “Today I would like seven chicken breasts, two pork loins…”

                 You didn’t look or listen to either of them as your body continued to shake with fear.

                Of course, there were other times the Hargreeves came into the shop, sometimes Diego would try to make small talk, but you never wanted that either.

                “Good afternoon Y/N.” Diego ran right up to the counter. “I missed you the last few times. Were you at school?”

                 “Yeah.” You nodded and went to grab an order sheet.

               “Today is my birthday.” He smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m eighteen now, a man.”

                 “Oh?” You waited for his father to walk in. “Happy birthday.”

                 “Do you want to go out with me?  To celebrate?” His smile grew to show sparkling white teeth.

                 “No.” You blurted out the answer without thinking.

                 His smile dropped and he looked at the ground. You felt a pang of guilt, but not enough to change your response.  

                 “Maybe some other time then?” He rolled his shoulders and put on another grin, but you could see the pain behind his eyes.

                 “Maybe.”

                You noticed the pain in his eyes then, but it made you realize he always carried it, pain was life for that man, and you craved a more pleasant experience.  

                “Y/N.” The door chimed and you looked up to see Diego.

                 The Umbrella Academy had disbanded, but still, he stayed in the city. Out of all the members he was the one you wished would leave the most.

                 “Hello.” You grabbed your pencil, ready to take his order and speed along your interaction.

                 “I heard a rumor, you’re going away to school?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, even though he was twenty now he still had the same mannerisms from his younger days.

                 “That’s right.” You held your chin high and relaxed your shoulders, not trying to show how freaked you were that he knew.

                 “Springland has a low crime rate.  It’s a good choice.  You’ll be safe there.”  He dipped his head and locked eyes with you.

                 A tremor went through you.  Not over the stature of the man or what he was capable of, that he knew the city you were headed to and his approval felt more like a threat.  

                Your parents told you he still frequented their shop and asked about you every time.  They never understood why you wouldn’t give the man a chance.  They also didn’t understand why you never returned home unless you had to and then avoided working the shop at all costs.

                Fear was probably the easiest answer. To them, Diego was a gentleman, but to you, there was always something more sinister beneath.

                You had walked passed The Umbrella Academy home millions of times but never stepped foot inside.  As you raised your hand to knock you hoped that stayed true.  That Pogo would take your condolences and send you on your way, but in your gut, you knew a certain member of the academy wasn’t going to let you get away so easily.

                The sound of your knock echoed across the doors. You debated on setting the flowers on the stoop, knowing you weren’t going to knock twice.  

               When you bent to drop the bouquet the door flung open.  You glanced up to lock eyes with a face you hadn’t seen in years.

                “Not interested.  We’re in mourning right now, are you that insensitive?” Number four popped a hip as you stood up. “Wait, you look familiar.  Flower girl?”

                “You look like shit.”  Again word blurt hit you and you covered your mouth.  

                His jaw dropped and you watched his glossy eyes try and place you.

                “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that your father just died.”  You held out the flowers.

                “Klaus who is it?” A melodic voice came from behind him.

                “A sassy bitch.” His eyes ran up and down your body. “But someone who actually speaks her mind, unlike anyone else in this hellhole.”

                The door pulled open all the way and you sucked in your breath.  She was more beautiful in person. Allison Hargreeves had long dropped the nickname Number three.  

                “Y/N. You look great.”  She stepped outside and gave you a hug.  

                You were shocked she knew your name.  In fact, you didn’t think any of them outside of Diego would remember you.  

                “I’m sorry for your loss.” Allison pulled away and you handed her the flowers. “Your father carried quite an impact.”

                “Y/N…now I remember, Diego’s little obsession.” Klaus leaned against the doorframe. “I understand why he liked going to the butcher so much, tell us, did he ever get that strip steak he was after?”

                “Klaus.” Allison elbowed him and moved to block him. “Ignore my brother. We’re sort of having a little remembrance party inside. Do you want to come in?”

               “I’ve gotta get going.” You pointed your thumb behind you.

                “Nonsense.” Allison grabbed your hand and pulled you inside. “Everyone will be so excited to see you.”  

                Even if you wanted to resist she was moving to fast for you to respond. It was an irrational fear, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that as soon as you crossed the threshold you were being led to your doom.

                Shouting filled the house. They were muffled by the many walls, but it was undeniable.

                “Are you sure this is a party?” You looked back at the door.

                “Things between siblings get a little heated at times.” Allison put her arm on the small of your back and guided you forward.

                “The only way to survive being a Hargreeves is to party all the time.”  Klaus scooped up a bottle of vodka sitting on a random table.  

                “I can’t stay long.” Run. Get out of here. That was all your brain screamed. “Just a quick hello.”  

                “In and out.” Allison smiled and nodded.

                The shouting grew closer and even though you couldn’t make out the words you recognized one of the voices.  Diego was here.  It had been ten years since you’d seen each other.  He wouldn’t pay the slightest attention to you now.  You were sure of it.  

                Klaus moved ahead and pushed open the door.

                “Attention fellow Miserables, we have a guest.” The addict did a bow as Allison walked you into the room.

                There was drinking involved, but this did not look like a party.  Vanya sat on a couch with her hands folded in her lap.  Klaus lay down on another, crossing his ankles.  Your vision had no other choice but to look at the center.

                Luther was larger than you remembered, but his eyes narrowed on you with annoyance.  You weren’t wanted here.  You looked to the next person knowing who it would be.  Diego’s features went from anger to softness.  His eyes widened and lips parted.  There was no doubt he remembered you.  

                “Y/N,” he spoke in a whisper, but the room had grown so quiet it may as well have been a scream.  

                Everyone was staring at you, but none as intently as Diego.  You were that little girl all over again, stuck behind the counter unsure what you had done to draw this attention.  You squeezed the bouquet and snapped back to reality.

                “I brought flowers.” You held them out. “I’m sorry for your loss.”  

                “Thank you.” Diego took three huge strides and he was right in front of you. “That’s very kind.”  

                “Why don’t you put them in some water.” Allison was still touching your back.  

                Diego took the flowers and you dropped your eyes. Thankfully he walked back into the room, giving you an out without having to walk past him.  

                “I have to leave.” You spun around. “Really, I am sorry.”  

                Allison placed her other hand on your shoulder and pulled you close.  Her lips were right next to your ear.

                “I heard a rumor that you want to have sex with Diego all night long.”

                The words echoed inside your head and before your mind could even form the word no she had pulled away.  Her beautiful face smiled back at you and she gave you a wink.

                Luther almost charged at you, making you recoil as he reached out and grabbed Allison.  

                “What did you do?” He asked through gritted teeth.

                “Nothing.” Allison pulled her arm out of his grasp. “Y/N wanted to see Diego and now maybe the two of you can take the night off from trying to kill each other.”  

                You didn’t really care what they were talking about.  All of a sudden you only had one thing on your mind.  The siblings continued to squabble behind you, but you walked further into the room, now with a specific target in mind.  

                Diego walked back from behind the partition, the vase of flowers in his hands.  He was clad in all black, dressed for a mission.  It accentuated his body and you found yourself fantasizing about what it looked like without the tight clothing.

                You pictured rippling muscles on his taut body. It made you like your lips in anticipation of what you hoped was to come.  

                “Y/N, it’s been a long time.” Diego set the vase on a table as you continued to approach him.

                “Too long.” You stopped right in front of him and put your fingers on his chest, needing to touch him.  

                Diego took a small step back but stopped as his eyes locked with yours.  His beautiful browns swirled with confusion.  But confusion or not having him look at you sent a wave of heat down your body.  

                You wanted to rip his clothes off, throw him to the ground, and ride him.  The image made you bite back a whimper.  

                “Are you alright?” Diego rested his hand on your shoulder. “Are they scaring you?”

                He looked passed you towards his siblings. Luther and Allison were still fighting about something, but you had blocked them out.

                “Can we go somewhere private?” While your desire for the man changed you weren’t sure you wanted him bad enough to put on a show for his siblings unless Diego insisted.  

                “Yeah.”  He looked back at you. “Sure.”  

                You slid your hand across his chest and moved your body so your head was next to him, his arm flung over your shoulder with the movement.  

                “I’m sorry you have to see the fighting.  Me and Luther, now Luther and Allison.” Diego led you away, through a second door in the back of the room. “It wasn’t how I hoped our reunion would go.”  

                “You guys don’t see each other often?” You brought your other hand behind Diego and rested it across his back on his hip.

               “No.” Diego shook his head. “Enough about me. How have you been? I’m surprised to see you.”  

                You didn’t want to spend all night talking and tried to think of the best response that was going to land you in bed sooner.

                “Well, I’ve been thinking maybe I’ve been away too long.” Your footsteps echoed off the open ceiling as you toured the main corridor. “Maybe it was time to stop fighting and come home.”

                “Stop fighting?” Diego laughed. “You’re not a fighter Y/N.”  

                His arm slipped from around your shoulder.  You were in another sitting room.  It wasn’t the bedroom you hoped for, but it would do.

                “I meant to stop fighting this.” You clasped your hands together as Diego turned to look at you.  

                One of his eyebrows was raised and his head tilted to the side.  

                “Fighting this?” He pointed between the two of you. “Y/N, what is going on? I’ve been chasing you since I was a little boy and you’ve never shown the slightest interest.”  

                “Because I was scared.” You lunged forward and put one hand on his chest and the other around his neck. “But I’m not anymore. When your brother vanished I was terrified that being with you would be dangerous, now I see that there is danger everywhere.  And I’m not interested in denying this any longer.”  

                Diego studied your face. Being so close to him, having him look at you, it filled your body with more need.  You clenched your thighs together, certain you were getting so turned on you were going to soak your panties.  

                “Hmpf.” His shoulders shrugged, but before disappointment could spread his arms were around your waist.  

                He hoisted you in the air as if you were nothing. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pressed against him as your lips slammed into his.  

                Both of you opened your mouths at the same time and your tongues started a war for power.  You brought your other hand behind his head and smashed him closer and you ground your hips down on him.  

                The action almost made him fall over but gave you the leverage to take control of the kiss.  His tongue was amazing as it worked against yours.  But you let out a whine and started rocking your hips, needing more than just a kiss.  

                “Woah Y/N.”  Diego tried to pull his head back, but you kept yanking him forward. “Isn’t this a little fast?”  

                “I’d say eighteen years is long enough.”  You dropped your legs from his waist and grabbed the bottom of his shirt. “I don’t think I can wait for a second longer.”  

                His shirt was some sort of combat gear and you weren’t going to figure out how to remove it without his help.  Lucky for you his lips dipped back to yours and he started undressing.  

                You decided to echo his movements and took off your own shirt between kisses.  Diego grabbed your waist and pulled your forward, kissing your bare décolletage as he kicked his shoes off.  

                “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” He nipped at your skin. “Fantasized about this. Dreamed about this.”  

                “Me either.”  In all reality, you’d only wanted this for about five minutes, but those five minutes had been excruciating.  

                Both of you clumsily undressed, while still trying to touch each other, press your skin to skin, place hard, eager kisses on the other’s body.  

                Finally, both of you were naked, except your bra. Diego reached around your back and unclipped the clasp.  Your mouths found each other again and you continued kissing as the garment slipped away, leaving you totally bare to each other.  

                “Grrr.”  Diego reached out and grabbed your hips, pulling you closer and dragging you to the couch.  

                He laid you down and you pulled his waist as you spread your legs, wanting him to settle between them, needing his cock deep inside of you.  

               He moved backward so he was standing over your naked form.  There was a deep hunger in his eyes as he took you all in.  

                Your body was so needy you couldn’t stop wiggling your hips.  You held your arms open to him.  

                “Please.  I need you.” You grabbed his wrists. “Please.”

                “I want this to be perfect Y/N.  As perfect as you are.”  Diego licked his lips.  

                “And I don’t want to wait any longer.”  You tugged his arm.  “Please, I”ll do anything.  I just need you inside me.  No more waiting.”  

                Diego let you pull him down.  You spread your legs as he settled between them.  You groaned this wasn’t what you wanted. You needed his cock at your entrance, but instead, he kept too much distance as his lips went to your shoulder and hand snaked down your body.  

                His fingertips felt like fire as they went down your stomach.  

                “No more teasing.”  You whined.  “I’m yours. Please, Diego.”  

                “The things it does to me when I hear you say my name.” Diego dipped further and cupped your pussy. “I’d never hurt you.  I need to make sure you’re ready to take me.”  

                You lifted your head and looked between your bodies.  His cock was a monster.  Normally you wouldn’t think it possible for your body to handle something so huge, but the sight only flared your excitement.  

                The more he could fill you the better.  

                “I’m so empty.  Please.”  Sweat was starting to cover your body.  You dug your fingertips into his hips, hoping you could guide him inside of you.

                “Soon baby.”  One of his fingers slid inside of you with ease.  It wasn’t what you wanted but it was enough to make you arch your back, pressing your chest to his.  

                “You’re so wet Y/N.” Diego started pumping his finger. “Soaked.”  

                “For you.”  You tried to lift your hips with his movement. “You do this to me.”  

                Diego let out a growl and removed his finger. Then you felt his head at your pussy, sending desperation through your body.  He pushed inside and your muscles tightened on instinct as if you were trying to draw him deeper.  

                “You have to relax Y/N.”  Diego stilled. “I don’t want to hurt you.”  

                “You could never hurt me.”  You dug your fingers further into his hips, encouraging him to push forward.  

                He started to slide in and you knew what he meant by not hurting you.  Your walls struggled to stretch around his girth, making your breathing go frantic. Again he stopped and whipped the hair off your sticky forehead.  

                “Relax baby.” He placed a light kiss on your lips. “Let me in.”  

                You nodded, understanding what he meant. Even though your body was in overdrive you took a few breaths and willed the tension out of your muscles. You wanted to be an equal participant in the sex, but Diego needed control for the first portion.  

                “That’s it.”  He kissed your cheek and continued his descent into your pussy. “Oh, you’re so tight Y/N.”  

                His words made you tense up again, but you were quick to relax.  Your body was shaking from desire, the slight burn his cock brought to your pussy, and hearing him give you any sort of praise.  

                By the time he was into the hilt, you were back to panting, wiggling underneath him, needing more.   Instead of moving he pushed his lips to yours and parted them, diving his tongue into your mouth.  

                You brought your hands up behind his head and pulled him closer.  He pulled his cock back a small bit and then re-entered.  It made you moan into his mouth.  

                Each time he left your pussy a little further and slid back with a little more force, but he never broke your kiss.  

                Soon you found yourself rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, your bodies moving in a perfect dance.  The way he was rubbing against you started to turn the desire into desperation.  All your want gathered in your core, the fire grew bigger.  

                You moaned underneath him and he picked up speed. It only fed the flames.  You continued moaning, kissing, scratching at his body, unsure you would ever be able to have enough of this man.  Until finally the flames ignited into a giant explosion.  

                Your head fell back with a scream as your toes curled.  It was the most intense orgasm of your life.  Your walls convulsed around him as Diego let out a grunt and pushed deep inside you one final time, covering your womb in his seed.  

                “Shit Y/N.”  His head was right next to yours.  “I should have pulled out. I couldn’t control myself.”  

                “I’m on the pill.”  You didn’t want him to worry about anything.  

                His head nodded into the couch, he turned to his side and flipped you in the process so he was spooning you, his arm draped around your waist, his fingers running little circles over your skin.  

                “I never knew you felt the same way…” He kissed your shoulder and you turned your head to look up at him as he rested on his elbow.  “All these years we wasted.”  

                You gave him a reassuring smile, fairly certain if he knew you’d only felt the same way since this evening it would ruin the mood.

                “I’ve only ever loved two people.  My mom and you.”  He brushed a piece of hair out of your face.  

                You rolled onto your back and reached out, grabbing his face you pulled him down for a kiss.  He moved on top of you and was eager to return the gesture.  

                Love wasn’t something you had given a thought. Right now the only future you cared about was the immediate one, and all you wanted was to have sex with Diego all night.  

~~~ 

               The soreness between your legs was the first thing you noticed when you woke.  It had been a while and you were sure you were going to walk with a limp.  The thought made all sleepiness drain away and your eyes pop open.  

                You were on a strange couch, being cuddled with an arm across your side.  Heavy breathing told you your partner was still asleep.  

                Dread filled you as you turned to see Diego. What the fuck?  How did this happen?  But you wanted it to.  You wanted nothing more than to spend the entire night fucking him.  

                Memories of your begging, him trying to get you to take a break, drink some water, but all you could do was try and entice him into sleeping with you again.  How many times was it five? Maybe six? How many orgasms did you have?  

                What was the matter with you?  The man terrified you!  Why in the world did you want him so badly last night?  You had no idea, but right now you knew you had to get out of here and never return.  Even though you were begging you never felt so violated.  

               You stood up and found your pile of clothes. As you slipped on the pants you heard him stir.

                “Morning beautiful.” Diego yawned. “You wore me out last night, come back a lie-down.”  

               You ignored him as you pulled on your bra, unsure you could dress fast enough.  

                “Y/N, what’s the rush?” You heard him sit up.  

                Tears started to sting your eyes.  How could you have been so out of control? And with him?

                “You don’t have to leave.”  He was walking over to you.  

               You got on your shirt just as his hand touched your shoulder.

                “GET AWAY FROM ME.” You snapped out of his grip and almost fell.  

               His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open in horror.  You were trying to hold back tears as you picked up your shoes and purse, not bothering to put them on.  

                “I don’t understand.” Diego grabbed his pants and pulled them on. “Last night, you were…we were…talk to me.”

                “I just need to get home.”  You ran through the door to the room.  Of course, it led to an unfamiliar hallway.  “This place is like a fucking maze.”  

               You didn’t know whether to head left or right. It was like everything was blurry last night and now you were having a hard time focusing.

                “Let me drive you.” Diego was hot on your heels.

               “I’ll walk.”  Shame filled you as you realized you were literally about to do the walk-of-shame.  

                You started down to your right.  

                “Y/N. Please.” He reached out again.

                “I SAID DON’T TOUCH ME.”  You tried to get away from his grasp, but in the process twisted and hit the floor.  

                He looked down at you with sadness, but you didn’t want him to look at you at all.  You turned to stand up again and his features hardened.  

                “ALLISON,” Diego yelled and took off down the hallway.

                “What? It’s early?”  Allison appeared in one of the doorways.  

                “WHAT DID YOU DO?” Diego yelled in her face.  

                “I thought you could use some fun.” Allison let out a yawn.

                “Does it look like Y/N’s having fun?” Diego pointed toward you.

               “It sure sounded like she was last night,” Allison smirked.

                You felt sick to your stomach and didn't want to hear the rest of the conversation.  You picked yourself up and walked passed both of them, keeping your head down.

                “Fix this.” Diego’s voice was almost as scary as he was.  

                “How?” Allison did not sound like she cared for a moment.

                You left the hallway and found yourself back into the main vestibule of the Umbrella Academy.  Your heart lurched as you saw the front door.  The stairs were around the corner to your left and you wasted no time making your way over there.

                “Y/N?”  Allison’s sweet voice called from behind you.  “Y/N, wait!”

                You didn’t understand what happened but had a feeling that you didn’t want to know.  All you wanted was to get out of this house.  You broke into a sprint, arms outstretched ready to pull open the door. Your hand was on the knob and you gave it a tug, only for a hand to appear next to your head slamming it shut.

                Before you could let out a cry a voice whispered in your ear:

               “I hear a rumor that you’re deeply in love with Diego and never want to leave him.”  

               The sentence vibrated inside of you and a warmth spread through your veins.  Why were you running again?  

                “Y/N, baby?”  Diego jogged down the stairs, pulling his shirt over his head. “Are you alright?”  

                “Yeah.”  You blinked away the confusion.  “I don’t know what came over me.”

                “Hey, you’re fine.” Diego pulled you into a hug. You practically melted against his chest, never feeling safer in your life.  “Let’s get you back to bed though. I think we could both use some sleep.”  

                That sounded like heaven and you nodded your head. This was exactly where you were supposed to be, cuddled in his embrace.  Safe. Loved.

                “You’re welcome.”  Allison’s voice carried a snide tone.  

               “Diego?” You looked up at him.

                “Yeah, baby?” He cupped your cheek.

                “Have I told you I love you?” The words sounded so right.  

                “Hmmm.” He squeezed you tight. “I’ve known you loved me for a long time now, it’s nice to hear you admit it to yourself.”

                You sighed and let him lead you back into the house.  You were so lucky to have a man who knew you so well.  

[hailene]

Perfect Imperfection

Perfect Imperfection| part one

Characters: Jaemin x female lead, Chenle x female lead (the girl will go by the name of Aeri)

Genre: fluff, angst, writer!au, highschool!au

Word count: 2.8 K

Summary: Aeri is the teenager who writes. Finding inspiration in anything surrounds her, her ideas go wild once she meets the perfect character, Na Jaemin. As a writer becomes obsessive with their favourite character, Aeri grows a weird passion for the bright boy. However, she's so focused on painting Jaemin as perfectly as possible, that she ignores the furry of fiery hair that takes her to night walks and shows her secret places around the town. Despite knowing everything, she forgets that playing with fire means getting burnt. And that sometimes, when we remember to stop, it's too late.

part one》 part two》 part three

"You can't possibly expect me to accept your chocolate milk as apology for hitting me with a basketball, Hyuck." I sigh as try to figure out my time table.

"Oh c'mon, I didn't even hit you that ha-..."

"What was your name again?" I tease him, furrowing my eyebrows as soon as I realize that tomorrow I literally had two classes at the same time. "What the hell?"

"What's wrong?" Jeno asks me, peaking over my left shoulder to look at the paper in my hands. "Wow, sociology and physics at the same time? I knew you were an ace but that's a bit extra terrestrial."

I sigh.

"Tell me about it." I say. "I didn't even want to take physics this year but apparently, the principal made the other choice be chemistry."

I turn around to face Jeno with clear despair written across my face. Dramatic as I absolutely adored to be.

"And I hate chemistry."

"I know, hun." He sighs, knowing about my absolute lack of desire to study chemistry. "You should go to the secretary so you can solve this. I'll ask Jeongin to cover this class for you."

I smile and hug him tightly.

"Thanks, Jen, you're the best." I say and run towards the other end of the school hall, ready to get my shit together for the first time during the new school year.

As I was preparing myself to enter the office, the door suddenly opened, making me step back in bewilderment. A hazelnut-haired boy stepped out of the room, a sweet smile plastered on his lips. His puppy-like eyes made him look young, maybe even younger than me, but his body figure was saying something else. He was definitely new, judging by his clothes. Really, nobody bothers to dress fancy around here, unless they want to prove something. And this boy was too good-looking to have anything else to prove, except the fact that he's willed to study and be nice to everyone.

Fun.

All my thoughts vanished when we made eye contact, finally making me aware of my physical presence there, reminding me that I am not some ghost that he can't see and I can't keep staring at him forever.

However, he simply nodded his head in apology for startling me and left. I shruged it off and entered the office, ignoring that spark deep inside that was telling me he was perfect.

By the end of the school week, I actually manage to realize I wasn't missing it that much. The one and only thing that I was missing about school was the incredible desire to write that it was giving me. I could write novels and novels... just so I don't have to do my homework. I would write wherever, whenever. During classes, during lunch, with my friends or alone. It didn't matter. If I was getting stroken by some heavenly idea, there was nothing that could stop me.

The perfect character.

That's what I was doing too when Renjun came to me this evening, while I was sitting on the edge of the basketball court. He sat near me in silence for a few minutes, before actually voicing out the actual reason why he came in the first place.

"The writing contest is starting again soon." He says and I nod. "But miss Kang told me she doesn't want you to participate."

I turn around to face him, my eyes wide in disbelief. This contest has been one of my greatest motivations ever since middle school and I can't let her take this away from me. Why would miss Kang even do that? She loves me. Or at least so I thought? Have I done something wrong? Did I annoy her with my infinite questions regarding the use of tenses or anything of this kind? Hell, I knew I should've kept it lowkey...

"What? She can't do tha-..."

"I'm not done yet." Renjun says calmly. "She doesn't want you to participate because you'd win anyway."

I smile softly and sigh. Renjun has always been somehow gentle but ruthless at the same time. And he's my only friend who truly understands my passion for writing. Not necessarily because he'd be passionate about this too, but because he's interested in understanding the people around him. And honestly, that's one of the things that make him such a great blessing.

"So she told me to ask you if you'd like to be one of the judges." He continues and I look at him bewildered once again.

"She what?" I ask surprised.

"I know you heard it the first time." He smiles. "Is that an yes?"

"Oh my God, Renjun, this is... this is..."

My dream ever since I was like 12.

"Insane." I finish my sentence.

Renjun smiles in response as I close my eyes and sigh, trying to collect myself.

"So I think you accept the offer-..."

"Of course I do!" I say maybe a bit too loud.

I smile awkwardly, telepathically apologizing for startling him with my loud voice. He shrugs.

"Cool then." He says standing up. "I'll see you around."

***

"The try-outs for the basketball team are on Thursday and I barely heard anybody being interested in coming." Jeno sighs while sticking a poster on the notice board.

"Don't worry, I'm sure people will come." I say as I hand him another poster. "The basketball team is pretty cool after all."

"Because I'm part of it." He smiles sheepishly and I punch his arm. "Didn't hurt at all."

I stick my tongue out to him but he doesn't seem to notice.

"Why doesn't Renjun want to join?" I ask him and he shrugs.

"He's actually doing a pretty good job as unofficial manager so I can't really mind." My bestfriend says, looking at the posters he has pinned so far. "How many do we have left?"

"About ten." I say looking at the posters in my hands.

Jeno sighs. I wish I could do something to lift his mood. I wish I could make him believe the try-outs aren't going to be crappy, but I am not too sure about it myself. He loves the basketball team so much and he would certainly do almost anything for it. The passion that he has is inspiring, but sometimes, it's too much for his own good. However, I guess it doesn't really matter as long as he loves his job, does it?

"Let's go and stick those at each of the entrances and the notice board from outside." He says and I head towards the entrance of the building.

As I prepare to go around the corner, heading to the entrance hall, I suddenly bump into somebody, making me fall on the ground with all the posters that I was initially holding flying around me.

"Crap, I'm so sorry!" I hear somebody saying and the next thing I know is that somebody helps me stand up.

The hazelnut-haired boy I met on the first day of school at secretary's office.

Looking even finer than back then.

"Are you okay?" He asks me, waking me up from my thoughts once again.

I nod as I bend down to gather the posters. The hazelnut-haired boy rushes to help me, handing me the posters that he's gathered when we're done.

"Aeri, what ha-... oh, Jaemin? What are you doing here?" I hear Jeno asking as soon as he approaches us.

Jaemin? So that's the name of the hazelnut-haired boy?

But how does my bestfriend know him?

"I realized I'd left in my locker some books that I need so I came to take them." The boy in front of me answers with a bright smile on his lips.

God, he's gorgeous.

"Oh, the try-outs for the basketball team?" Jaemin asks pointing towards the posters in my hand. "I'm thinking of giving it a chance, to be honest..."

"Really?" Jeno says. "That would be awesome, we're actually pretty much in need of people at the moment."

"I guess I'll come then." Jaemin says happily. "Ah, do you guys need help with sticking these?"

"Well, unless you have anything else to do, sure, why not?" Jeno smiles, looking at me and reassuring me it's fine.

Fine.

"I'm Jaemin, by the way." He says, extending his hand in front of me, a charming smile plastered on his lips.

"Aeri." I say, shaking his hand.

"Wait, you're the girl from the secretary office, right?" He asks and I feel my face heating in embarassment.

"Uh... yeah..." I say and he chuckles.

"I was in a rush back then, I didn't even realize that I hadn't stopped to apologize for bumping into you." He says and a small smile makes its way up to my lips.

"Nah, that's alright."

We finish pinning up the posters while having small talk and Jaemin proves himself to be an actual kind and funny guy, which didn't surprise me that much. I could tell by his bright smile and the sparkles in his eyes that he had something special. That he would be somebody worth writing about. But there was a part of me that couldn't believe him. It couldn't believe his perfect fit for a prince from the fairytales. There had to be something twisted about him. A hidden side of him. And I was ready to find out what that was about.

***

I try to gather up my things as fast as possible after the physics class, pretty bothered by the fact that I didn't understand half of today's lesson. Well, true, that might also be because I was sketching out some ideas on my writing notebook rather than paying complete attention to the class. As I try to make my way out of the class, I bump into somebody. Why do I have to bump into somebody everyday lately? I drop my books like a loser and mentally slap myself for not taking time to put them in my backpack instead of deciding to carry them in my hands. I rush to gather them all and my eyes meet a furry of firey hair and I feel myself smiling.

Zhong Chenle. The actual sun of my year. And not just because of his newly dyed orange hair, but also because of his blinding-bright personality.

I've never been close to him, to be honest. We have never been closer than classmates are supposed to be because I simply couldn't find any reason for me to do otherwise. He was smiling to everybody, friends with everybody and nice to everybody. But at the same time, he belonged to no one, which is why I personally thought his new hair colour suited him perfectly, he was like the sun: warm but at the same time, far, far away.

He lifts his head to look at me while gathering his books and gives me a small smile that, if I didn't know him at all, I would take as a playboyish smirk. But no, that's simply his natural smile.

"Haven't seen anybody rushing so much out of the class lately." He chuckles. "You okay?"

"Just trying to leave the bad energy behind as soon as possible." I say and his loud laugh echoes in the class, some of the other kids throwing him annoyed glares. But he didn't care.

"People use to tell me all the bad energy dissappears when I step into the room." Chenle says and it's my turn to chuckle.

"Well, I guess the level of bad energy from this specific class is too much for you to handle."

I stand up and he does the same. I look at him and smile without being able to hold back. Then, I leave. But if I had looked behind me just once, I would have seen him looking back.

That evening, Jeno and Donghyuck came over with a box of cookies freshly baked by Jeno's mom. She loves me and Hyuck loves her cookies, therefore the combination. Despite the fact that it was supposed to be a study night, we end up talking about random things while emptying the cookie box.

"So, are you still writing if you're not in the writing contest?" Donghyuck asks me, his chipmunk cheeks stuffed with cookies, crumbs around his mouth.

"Of course." I say smiling. "I'm not writing just for contests."

"A mundane like you wouldn't understand." Jeno adds and I laugh at the sight of Hyuck's frown which made him look like an annoyed squirrel.

"As if you're not a mundane too..." he mutters.

"I am one of the chosen mundanes." Jeno smirks and Donghyuck rolls his eyes, making me roll back on my bed in laughter.

"Maybe... I would understand better if I saw..." I hear Hyuck saying and before I can react, I hear him standing up and heading towards my desk.

Heck no.

"Don't you dare, Lee Donghyuck!" I shout as I stumble towards him.

But I'm not fast enough. He picks up my notebook from my desk and opens it with pure curiosity on his face.

"Hyuck, Hyuckie, please just don't, it's really personal-..."

"Newton's first law of motion predicts the behavior of objects for which all existing forces are balanced." He reads and I stop in the midst of my action. "I mean... it's truly personal. So personal that I think I have written the same thing in my physics class last year."

He shrugs.

"Did you change the covers so I couldn't recognize which of these is your writing notebook?" He asks, searching through the tower of books and notebooks that was sitting peacefully on my desk. "That's actually really smart!"

However, all I can do is stare at the notebook in horror. I have certainly never written anything related to my school subjects in that notebook so how did that de-...

Wait a second.

I pick up the notebook Donghyuck originally opened and I flip its pages, searching for anything familiar. Anything that might assure me this belongs to me.

This is not my handwriting.

The physics class. The physics class. The physics-...

I freeze.

Class.

"Crap!" I mutter and both Hyuck and Jeno look at me confused.

"What's up?" Donghyuck asks. "Look, I mean... it's cool that you write about Newton's second law in your writing notebook but-..."

He stops when he sees me franatically shaking my head.

"That." I point towards the foreign notebook sitting on my desk like a cursed thing. "That isn't mine."

"Then whose is it?" Jeno asks confused. "It looks exactly like your notebook."

I know, right?

"It's Chenle's." I say but my voice comes out as a terrified whisper.

"Wait what?" Hyuck says, almost choking on his cookie. "Chenle? As in Zhong Chenle? That carrot head in your year who laughs louder than the fire alarm?"

I nod, too shocked to laugh at his funny but accurate description of my classmate.

"Why do you have his notebook?" Jeno asks.

I cover my face with hands and sigh, then take a deap breath to explain the situation to them as shortly as possible.

"We bumped into each other and I think we accidentally took each other's notebook." I say as the realisation hits me. "Guys, he has my writing notebook!"

I fall on the floor of my bedroom.

"I am screwed." I cry. "If he reads it, my life is over."

"Why?" Donghyuck asks confused. "Did you write about him-...?"

"No, you don't understand!" I shout. "Those ideas, those words, anything that I write there, all of it is... it's... it's personal! It's a piece of my that I wouldn't give to anybody-..."

I break off.

"Hey, it's alright, ask him to return it to you tomorrow." Jeno says, trying to calm me down but for the first time, it's useless.

"No no no, if I tell him that, he'll be fully aware of the fact that the notebook doesn't belong to him and his curiosity might make him read it-... DAMN what should I do?" I say as I pace around my room, massaging my head.

Suddenly, an idea pops in my head.

I turn towards my friend.

"Hyuckieee, my favourite friend... you know I love you so dearly..."

"Okay, what's up with that cringey smile and disgustingly fake affectionate words?" He asks, taking a step back.

"You'd help me right? I'm your friend and you love me so you'd help me, right? Right, Hyuck?" I ask, stepping closer to him.

His eyes widden in terror.

"For fuck's sake, Aeri, just say whatever you need, you know I hate when you do this."

I chuckle. That was the point after all.

"Give me Chenle's address." I demand. "As soon as possible."

"I don't know it." He shrugs.

"But you can find it out." I smile sweetly and he rolls his eyes.

I put on a dark hoodie while Donghyuck taps something on his phone. Jeno watches us patiently, moving his gaze between me and Hyuck occasionally.

"I texted you the address." He says, putting his phone back in the pocket of his black jeans. "But what are you gonna do? Break into his house?"

"Wait, Aeri, you're not gonna break into his house, are you?"

He chuckles and I say nothing as I take Chenle's notebook and my phone and head towards the door. When Hyuck realizes I haven't answered his question, his chuckles suddenly stop.

"Of course not." I say smiling. "Just surprise him. See you guys later!"

I close the door behind me, leaving them alone in my room.

"Was that really Chenle's address?" Jeno asks after some time.

"Nope." Donghyuck answers shifting.

Jeno looks at him expectantly.

"Jaemin's." He continues, an innocent smile on his lips.

Jeno sighs but smiles shortly after, shaking his head, amuzed by the whole situation.

"C'mon, man." He says standing up. "We have to visit the Zhong ressidence tonight."

A/N: Hello, everybody! This is my first tumblr fic, did you enjoy the first part? How do you feel about it so far? I'll update soon!

hailene x

[solange-lol]

not so typical love song - ch. 3/13

Chapter Title: Strawberries & Cigarettes 

Words: 1,741

Art by @lizzybizzyo! <3

[ one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight (coming soon)]

read on ao3

—

Over the course of the next few weeks, Nico and Blue exchanged numerous emails. Whether he was at school, at home, or anywhere in between, Nico did his best to reply as soon as possible. It even ended in his phone being confiscated a few times in a couple different classes. Nico couldn’t help it, though; every time a new email popped into his inbox there was an unfamiliar fluttering in his heart and itching in his hands to reply just to hear what Blue had to say. 

One morning Nico had forgotten to set his alarm, and in his rush to school had no time to read the most recent email from Blue, much less respond to it. He snuck out of lunch and headed for the library and their computers that afternoon. It was a risky task, considering their computers were right there in the open and anybody, including Blue himself, could walk behind him, but it was a risk Nico was willing to take. The service at their school was beyond shitty; Nico really wasn’t in the mood for waiting half an hour just for the email to load. And something about their most recent conversation had Nico’s heart racing. 

He had suggested a John Snow costume for himself before casually asking Blue what he planned on dressing up as. He knew for a fact that the Stoll brothers were once again hosting their famous Halloween party that nearly the entire school showed up to. As long as it wasn’t something stereotypical like a pirate or a ghost, there was a chance Nico might be able to at least scope out who Blue may be. It was no secret that Nico’s curiosity was growing on who was behind all the emails, but Blue was a private person and refused to give out too many details. 

Nico logged in quickly to his gmail and opened the unread notification in his inbox.

From: blue0919@gmail.com

To: bettertoburn@gmail.com

Date: Oct 28 at 6:07 AM

Subject: Re: Halloween Costumes

I’m sure you would look great in a John Snow costume. Not just anyone can pull off that hair, but something tells me that you can. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a trick or treater. 

I’m not dressing up for Halloween though. My mom has this tradition of going to the Halloween open mic night at some bar, which leaves me stuck at home handing out candy. (Don’t worry, I still have pumpkin sweater to wear for the occasion. It’s the ugliest thing you’ll probably ever see.) 

For me, Halloween is all about the Oreos with the orange frosting in the middle. I’m not usually one to indulge in a lot of sweets, but chocolate is my downfall. And those Halloween edition Oreos are a personal favorite of mine.

-Blue

While Nico was disappointed to not get any more of a lead on who Blue was, he still felt himself smiling at the Oreo obsession. 

He typed out a response as quickly as he could, hoping to still be able to make it back to lunch so he could eat before the period was over.

From: bettertoburn@gmail.com

To: blue0919@gmail.com

Date: Oct 28 at 12:37 PM

Subject: Re: Halloween Costumes

It’s unfortunate that you’re not dressing up, I feel like you would be someone to come up with a witty costume but it’s actually GOOD. (i.e. not the ‘holy cow’ costume I did with my friend a few years back with involved cow onesies and angel wings and halos. Never again.) At least you aren't crushing that childhood trick or treater spirit with that pumpkin sweater, which I hope one day I get to see.

And you’re not wrong about the Oreos. I hope whichever party I’m being dragged along to this weekend has them because they are freaking delicious. 

-Angel

He attached a gif of cartoon pumpkins floating down onto an Oreo cookie that was already covered in orange frosting. Just as Nico hit send, Mr. Brunner wheeled up to him.

“Hey, Nico!” Mr. Brunner said. “How are you? You’re smiling pretty big, so there must be something good going on!”

“Oh, um,” Nico cleared his throat as he quickly put the computer to sleep. “Nothing crazy. Just checking grades. I got an A on my English paper.” He actually got a B+, but he needed a coverup quick before Mr. Brunner asked any more questions. 

Thankfully, it worked. “Oh, great job!” Mr. Brunner said, placing his hand on Nico’s shoulder. “I’m glad to see you’ve been pretty happy these past few weeks.”

Nico forced a laugh. “Uh, yep. Just having a good month.”

“Good, good.” 

There was a few seconds of silence before Nico spoke again. “Anyway, uh, I need to get back to lunch. Have a good day, sir.” He turned quickly, barely catching Mr. Brunner raising an eyebrow at the formal tone. He nearly ran straight into Octavian as he rushed out the library, who just gave him a dirty look, which Nico ignored.

“Where have you been?” Reyna asked once he reaches the courtyard. The weather was nice today, not too cold, unlike the past days that month, so the school allowed students to eat outside if they chose. 

Nico dropped down in the seat next to her. “Library. Just checking grades.”

Reyna nodded, clearly not completely believing him. “Here are your burnt tots because you have horrible taste,” she said, thankfully dropping the subject and also said tater tots onto Nico’s tray.

Nico nodded in thanks, before picking the not-quite-ripe banana off his tray. “And here is your green banana because you like disgusting things,” he shot back as he handed it to her. Reyna only hummed in agreement.

Piper looked between the two of them, brow furrowed.. “You guys are weird.”

“You get used to it after a while,” Jason sighed next to them.

They continued to chatter as Will, Cecil, Lou Ellen, and the Stoll brothers slid onto the other two empty benches around their table. Nico ripped open a pack of Oreos that he had brought, which earned him a small lecture from Piper about eating dessert before he had lunch.

“Am I right, Will?” she asked the boy across the table once she’s finished.

Will just shrugged and nodded. “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

As Piper went back to her conversation with Jason and Reyna about halloween costumes, Will nudged his hand. Surprised, Nico looked up at him.

“Oreos,” Will smiled. “I love those. Halloween ones are the best.”

Nico laughed shakily, but it felt like his heart had just leapt to his throat. “Yeah, though good luck trying to get any of mine this time. I don’t give up that easy,” he managed.

“You’re in luck then,” Will said with a grin as he reached into his back pocket “—because I brought my own.” He displayed a package nearly identical to the one Nico was holding, but with orange filling rather than the classic white cream ones in Nico’s hand.

He laughed with Will, but his mind was racing. 

Did he just find Blue? 

Was is possible that he would find Blue so early on? They had only been talking for about a month, there was no way Blue would drop it easily.

And yet, part of him could hear Will’s voice echoed in some of the emails he’s received. He can imagine Will laughing at his awkward childhood stories, or blushing as he types out one of his own. They’re goofy, fun messages while still being reserved. It would fit for Will.

“Nico? Nico—” Piper waves her hand in his face, zapping him from his trance and tearing his gaze away from Will who, thankfully, was too wrapped up in a conversation with Cecil to notice him staring. “Hello? Anybody home? What’s gotten into you?” 

“Nothing, sorry. Just tired. Uh, what’s going on?” He blinked a few times, focusing back on Piper. Her brow was furrowed, but she didn’t say anything.

“Just planning the Halloween party,” Travis said from across the table, high-fiving his brother. “Our mom’s out of town for the week again, so we’re going full swing. Everybody’s invited!”

Nico just smiled at the enthusiasm. The Halloween party had been tradition since their freshman year, and it was only getting bigger as they got older. Being surrounded by a bunch of drunk kids wasn’t usually Nico’s choice of event, but this was the only party he ever really attended, so he could stand it. Once a year, at least.

“You are going, right?” Will asked. “Because I couldn’t do karaoke alone.” Nico was surprised that Will was asking him. Maybe deep down he knew something too. 

“Yeah,” Nico smiled. “Yeah, I’m going.”

---

Nico found himself watching Will in their environmental science class. It’s last period, the only class they had together. Will sat two rows over from him, and further in the back while Will sits up close to the teachers desk. 

Blue’s most recent email, which he received shortly at his lunch, plays in his head. But this time, he hears it all in Will’s voice. 

From: blue0919@gmail.com

To: bettertoburn@gmail.com

Date: Oct 28 at 1:21 PM

Subject: Re: Halloween Costumes

I’m glad to see we are in agreement about the Oreos, that would have been a dealbreaker for me.

On a totally different, non-cookie related note: is it weird that I have no idea what you look like but I can’t stop thinking about kissing you?

-Blue

Nico sucked in a breath, hearing those words over and over again, the test in front of him forgotten. Instead, he watched as Will’s curls bounce when he leaned forward, and Nico could just barely see a glimpse of his pink tongue dart from between his lips for just a second as he concentrated. He watched freckled, tan skin that lead from his neck and under his shirt, down his arms all the way to his palms. They danced like stars as Will scribbled in another answer.

“Nico,” the teacher called, and Nico quickly looked over to him. “Eyes on your own paper.” 

He’s about to look away when Will turned around and time seemed to stop for a moment. Will flashed a soft smile and shook his head at him. Nico smiled and rolled his eyes back, but inside, it felt like he might explode.

[womantryingtoexist]

The Raven Gang at Hogwarts

I am aware that there are probably hundreds of hot takes out there regarding The Raven Cycle and Harry Potter. But that also means that you have not yet heard mine! ^^

Ronan: 

Son of a Dreamer, Son of a Dream. His father is a powerful wizard, profoundly talented in Charms. Many whisper that his wife is just a charm brought to life. But that does not matter to young Ronan. He grows up surrounded by magic, being magic - even though Declan is the one who has all the “adult” talks with Niall. Even though Declan is a Squib (Mom said, he shouldn`t use that word but it is true).

When Ronan gets to Hogwarts, the Hat is fast to sort him into Gryffindor. Ronan is a bit put out, with his father a proud Slytherin and his mother a Hufflepuff. But then again? Daring and Brave? That is something Ronan can get behind on. He is only a little bit annoyed that he doesn`t get to share a dorm with his best friend Gansey.

Gansey:

Gansey is actually a half-blood. And proud of it. His father comes from a long line of wizards dating back to Merlin and his mother is a fierce muggle politician who could not resist the charming wizard with an obsession for everything muggle. The only draw back was, that Gansey seemed to be graced with bad luck.

His death had been foretold numerous times and the summer before he gets to attend Hogwarts that seems to finally come true. He dies, for approximately 15 seconds, before his father is able to heal him. Everybody is relieved - his foretold death is not permanent after all. The only one not content with that conclusion is Gansey himself. He knows that there is something more to it. Which is why the Sorting Hat wastes no time to put Gansey`s searching mind into Ravenclaw.

Adam:

Adam walks into Hogwarts and almost wants to back out again. He does not belong at all. Being already fiercely independent at the age of eleven, the idea of a magical school out of his comfort zone does not overjoy him. He is muggle born after all, part of the dirty apartments of Hodge Hill in Birmingham, poorest of the poor. 

He talks to no one on his way to Hogwarts. There is no need to. He sees their glances, he hears their whispers. He is dirt even for the wizards. Which is why he is not surprised to land in Slytherin (though, he does not yet understand the disgust of his classmates  - but he will soon).

 Blue:

Blue is not a Squip. She is not. She may not be graced with the power of Divination like the rest of her family, and her magic might be a bit on the weaker side, but she is not a Squip. Her father is not here, she lives in Hogsmeade and her will to throw down at any time, makes her the perfect witch.

She is even a little bit sad, when the school year begins because she does not take the Hogwarts Express, because she is not going to stay in the castle but with the Sorting Hat putting her into Gryffindor everything seems possible. She is a Sargent after all - and a Sargent does not take shit.

Noah:

The friendly Hufflepuff ghost spent most of his time in the Ravenclaw Dormitory and Gansey had not realized for way to long that Noah was not only not in his house but also dead. But a quick friendship was found nonetheless.

Ronan adored Noah. The two of them were fast friends and while Gansey asked all sorts of questions about the first wizarding war and the history of this place, Ronan only wanted to have fun.

It was fun, until the Boy Who Lived joined the school. Gansey and Ronan were third years at this point, and they had many friends but where closest to each other. Harry Potter did not interest them at first.

But then in their forth year things changed. The chamber of secrets was opened. And Slytherin got really hostile. Gansey started to notice that Gryffindor girl (she was a Chaser - and so good at it) and Ronan noticed that Slytherin boy who was always alone.

Noah bullied them into talking to them. 

Adam Parrish had not had a problem in Slytherin until that weasel of a boy Draco Malfoy appeared. His classmates had been cold but not hostile. It had been easy to stay the best - and even easier to hide the bruises he came back with after the holidays. But not anymore. Adam was almost relieved when the Gryffindor boy spoke with him. 

Blue Sargent was loud. That was what everyone told her. She was also okay with that. Being load was better than being overlooked after all. She likes the twins (and pitied them because they had to share with Ronan Lynch) and when the Boy Who Lived came along, she had a weird feeling. Fate was a lucky thing. She did almost punch Richard Gansey III in the face, however, when he came and asked for a date.

From three to five.

Their fifth year, Henry joined.

Henry:

When his mother told him that he would have to change schools, Henry imagined a different magic school, maybe in Korea instead of Canada. But no, his mother send him to Hogwarts. A school so small and obscure, he knew instantly that his mother wanted for him to do something.

Things had heated up in Europe the last few years with the Dark Side rising again. And his mother had no need for a war, so Henry should find information on how to stop that. Because people might stop buying, if they were dying. 

And so he went. Ravenclaw, said the silly Talking Hat, with a hint of Slytherin. Henry only grinned. Ravenclaw it was. 

He made fast friends with Richard Gansey, who seemed to be his own kind of wonder and yet not the Boy Who Lived. Ronan Lynch was a bit mean but overall enjoyable. That Adam Parrish guy was way to good at Divination - and at taking Extracurriculars. Blue Sargent was wicked and Henry was a tiny bit in love with her. But who wasn`t? Especially since she was currently dating Adam. (And Henry did notice, that this fact turned both Gansey AND Ronan into pinning idiots). And Noah? Noah loved Henry.

And then the shit hit the fan.

Ronan`s dad was murdered during the summer holidays. Voldemort came back. Ronan was not the same. Adam could no longer evade the questions - and yet did not leave. Persephone died - leaving a legacy for Adam - and a prophecy for Gansey: He would die again. Relationships broke. 

Their last year brought Umbrigde. And political chaos. Ronan knew his father had been involved in the last war - he knew Declan was now. Henry was told to leave - but he couldn`t. Not anymore. A magical assassin showed up at Blues doorstep. All of Adams precautions said Death. 

The Boy who lived survived, that year at least. 

And The Gangsey went into hiding. There has been attacks and they felt no longer safe. Adam was afraid of going home (what even was that?) but what else could they do? 

The year after Hogwarts was spent planning. They found Noahs killer, the made deals with old things, they sold their souls. They made sure that the artifact their families dealt with would not count in this war. But they did so silently. 

Until that was no longer possible. Because they were called. The Boy Who Lived had sent the sign. The sign for the Last Battle. 

The Battle of Hogwarts.  

[synaps]

I did not see this 5 years ago, though apparently I did

Hi there! So, in the light of the recent Ao no Exorcist chapters and Katou having a solid grasp on her timeline after all, my brain shocked itself enough to produce some serotonin and I decided I’m gonna diverge from my own principles and post this. Brain producing serotonin should be encouraged. Buckle up, everyone bothering to read: this timeline breakdown/fan theory emerged in 2012, when a bored AnE-fan pieced together a few of the plot reveals we’re starting to see now.

Spoiler warning for The End of the Beginning! Though strictly speaking they’re a timeline framework I developed in order to write TEotB, which means they’re gonna drop very soon via the flashback! So it probably isn’t as mind-blowing as it was to me... BUT I DON’T CARE I’ve been waiting 6 years for the content we’re getting right now, 6 years I’ve been on the edge of my seat for this misfit clone dork to finally tell his story and AAAAAH

This is basically a full-body search of the Kyoto arc chapters, 'cause that was the only bit of the past we had back when I started writing. To this day that’s the part of the manga I have the best grasp on. x’D But all those hours paid off, good gods they paid off! This is long. Bear with me, ‘kay? Old-time AnE-fans remember that it was commonly thought the twins were born on Blue Night, much due to the anime: Kyoto Arc said it wasn’t. If you looked carefully, you could figure out that Blue Night was in fact the time of the twins’ conception, not their birth. Though to be absolutely sure, I plotted out the timeline three times and dug up records from a weather station in Kyoto to see if there would have been snow at that time of year in the early to mid 90′s because that’s how goddamn obsessed I am. And if you did figure out that the twins were conceived on Blue Night, you were inevitably sucked into an even more obsessive downward spiral into crazy fan madness because that meant Fujimoto Shiro was sent to steal Kurikara to “kill some kids” before those kids existed even on an embryonic stage.

My original estimate was that the stage had taken 24 years to set up, based on the info in Kyoto Arc, but with Mephisto’s recent director’s cut of how he ghost wrote history that number bumps up to 36 years or potentially even longer.

For reference, the timeline I put together for TEotB plus the fresh dates from the flashback arc: 1977: Mephisto pressures Shiro into promising him a free wish because extorting a kid that’s struggling for his life is an ok move 1984: Satan fails possession for the first time because whoa so many limbs at once 1989: the Myou Dha is struck by disease 1993: Satan figures out how to properly possess someone, that’s Rin’s unrelenting never-give-up attitude right there 1994: after a nine year learning curve on just staying in a body Satan has three PhD’s and ditches school after one year of education - guess possessing a body really is a difficult thing to pull off huh 1995: Shiro unwillingly becoming the caretaker of orphans: part I 1996: not yet confirmed but Saburota’s first meeting with Lucifer/Asylum is probably now Also 1996: Satan returns to Section 13 with a reclamation claim on that crap body they sold him 1996-1997 (somewhere around New Year’s, I estimate): Shiro, who was an Upper First Class exorcist at the time, cures Myou Dha and oh is that a sword in your pocket or are you just happy to return to your boss after a successful mission? 1997 (probably mid-to-late March): Blue Night sucked for everyone, but at least Shiro and Tatsuma got promotions - yay 1997: Shiro unwillingly becoming the caretaker of orphans: part II 2003: when you’re a cursed, massacred and financially broke sect like Myou Dha, there’s few options but to join the Order of the True Cross to stay afloat 2005: Saburota recruits Mamushi to spy by raising suspicions against Mephisto ‘cause really, that ain’t hard 2013: a giant pile of shit appears in Kyoto and unleashes destruction on its surroundings and for once it isn’t Mephisto

The manga and the timeline are pretty self-explanatory so what I wanna stress here is what happened 24 years ago, in 1989, ‘cause that’s something Katou hasn’t touched upon yet and it’s really fun except for those involved. In 1989, a disease starts plaguing Myou Dha and the symptoms are identical to what you get from exposure to the miasma from the Impure King’s Eyes. It seems to be a very local problem, as we don’t hear of any epidemic in the rest of Kyoto. Did the seal on the Right Eye spring a leak? Nope. Because the Eye wasn’t there.

We haven’t seen the shrivelled up bit of IK cause any trouble - not saying it couldn’t, but it seemed like that one hadn’t been active much for the past 150 years and it had been constantly monitored by the High Priest. I cross-referenced with the dates given in the new flashbacks but the outbreak doesn’t coincide with any boost of demonic activity related to Satan’s progress. So? The disease in Kyoto is its own separate disaster, and it’s most likely engineered. Let’s work our way back from the present to see how Mephisto set up this stage~ Mephisto knew of Saburota’s plan to unleash IK, and was all cool with that ‘cause hey, good opportunity to test Rin’s flame, build some team spirit, power up Bon, etc. For that reason he decided to move the Right Eye from his own keep to Myou Dha’s: if Saburota had been able to steal both of them from True Cross he wouldn’t have needed the pit stop at the Kyoto Office. He would have revived IK straight away, and even Mephisto couldn’t have motivated sending a bunch of kids into that chaos. So, move the Eye to a secret strategic location in Kyoto and force Saburota into jumping through a couple of extra hoops to get it. The Eye was moved in 2003 or thereabouts: this coincides with Myou Dha joining the Order, and makes perfect sense. The relic has ties to their sect, and it’s kinda fair to give them something back since Meph indefinitely borrowed their main relic, and now that they’re part of the Order and all - yada yada, smoke screens. Mephisto gave them the relic to set Saburota up, but not until he had the means to also give Saburota a trail to follow. Our fav Uncle Goat approached Mamushi, his student, in 2005 and recruited her to get the Right Eye. He probably thought he was cleverly working around Mephisto’s attempt to prevent theft, but if we think about it: who gave Saburota the opportunity to manipulate her in the first place? It is much easier to get your hands on an impressionable young Myou Dha kid if the Myou Dha kids attend the school where Saburota teaches. But why would they? When their families are very competent exorcists on their own and they’re used to keeping to themselves and...

Keeping to yourself is only an option so long as you can survive by yourself, and from 1989 on Myou Dha couldn’t. But Granpa Suguro, being as stubborn as he is, has refused any modern/outside help for 7 bloody years. This disease is weird for several reasons. Its localised spread, for one; its similarity with the Eye mashou when there is no Eye present; the way it vanishes and is never heard of again after Shiro’s visit; the suspiciously good timing. We now know Mephisto is aware of the future to a certain extent - we saw that confirmed when he set Shiro up with that promise. That was the last doubt removed from my theory about the Kyoto disease, so here we are. Satan hadn’t even manifested with a consciousness yet but Mephisto had his sights on Kurikara and Myou Dha’s cooperation in 1989. He is a man of sophistication, so he takes the “if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad, Muhammad must come to the mountain“ approach: he used the Eyes to orchestrate an outbreak that would force the sect to reach out to True Cross - the biggest, most knowledgeable exorcist organisation around - for aid. Because the alternative would be to smash in there and outright steal the sword and nobody would send their kids to your organisation after that. But it didn‘t work. Granpa Suguro refused to follow script and so the years went by, Satan gained consciousness, grew intelligent, grew bored, oops there goes the Asylum ceiling, jfc Suguro how many more have to die before you just play along like a good boy...? In the end Mephisto had to deploy Plan B: screw it, theft it is. If Muhammad won’t go to the goddamn mountain I’m gonna drop the mountain right on Muhammad’s stubborn head.

Of course this means fucking things up for Shiro, ‘cause that’s just how these things go when you’re running a tight deadline getting the Antichrist(s) a birthday present. Also it’s fun.

This frame says everything, really. xD Come now, how would you expect these people to trust you, and develop a friendly attitude to the Order, if you barge in there on your black-ops mission like a humanoid battleship, grab their relic and ditch the scene? Bad PR, very bad PR. Buuut if you’re injured enough that you can’t make that immediate escape, and you just happen to know how to cure this very specific disease that never flares up again, which you can contract from only 2 items in the world, of which both are owned by the snake-tongued sass ball you are enslaved by work for...? What a fortunate coincidence, what a golden opportunity to create some debt gratitude and-

Nevermind... 

I headcanon that if Granpa Suguro hadn’t died on Blue Night, Mephisto would have set him on fire personally for being such a roadblock to his plans. After Blue Night Myou Dha was decimated, bankrupt, thought by the population to be cursed - what is a poor sect to do? Who could possibly help? Oh wait wasn‘t there some guy a while back, y’know, that exorcist dude who came crashing in and saved the lives of our families and friends? He seemed to know what he was doing, think we could ask him? So the take-away from this is If not for that disease, if not for Mephisto’s misinformation and Shiro’s break-in, Myou Dha would never have joined True Cross. The Right Eye would never have been kept in Kyoto, there had been no Myou Dha kids at the Academy for Saburota to recruit, and the cram school kids would never have been in Kyoto to fight the Impure King. And also that Mephisto is a fabulous bastard and a pure joy to write! ☆

[thejokersenigma]

Christmas Fan Fiction Advent Calendar 2017 - Day 17 - Joker x Reader - Christmas Carol Part 3

Ok, so it’s nearly midnight - sorry its taken so long to write this, but my laptop had a melt down and deleted all my editing, so I had to go back through and do it all again.

I apologise that the joker is a bit out of character - I’m blaming my lack of a break from writing (It feels like I’ve been writing non-stop for 17 days now!)

Hope you enjoy anyway!

MASTERLIST

J was surprised when he suddenly woke. He hadn’t realised he’d fallen asleep – hadn’t even realised he had been drifting off. He didn’t think he could have slept for more than a few minutes, but the clock told him it was close to one o’clock.

J hoped that the brief sleep might have helped to clear his mind somewhat from all of these hallucinations. It was true that he nearly always had voices screaming different things in his head, and yes, rarely he saw things that weren’t actually there, but - even more seldom – did he get these repeat illusions.

Maybe his last trip to Arkham and their aggressive ‘cures’ had pushed his brain that bit further into the realms of complete insanity.

One thing J was certain of was – if the Marlo hallucination was right and he was expecting two other illusions tonight -  he wasn’t going to be caught by surprise again by one of the phantoms his brain conjured up. So, he remained sat in his chair, ignoring the alcohol now, watching the office door, waiting for his next visitor. But nothing happened, and he couldn’t help feeling oddly more tense because of this.

J was just beginning to think maybe he should listen to one of the voices saying he ought to retire to his bed to catch up on some clearly much needed sleep, when the clock on the mantle chimed for the hour and, as the single faithful dong struck out, the office was filled with same brilliant light that had illuminated it previously. Only, this time, it didn’t come from the window behind him, instead this light seemed to be emitted from within the pent house, outlining the office door where it shone through the surrounding cracks.

J was forced to squint at the brightness, holding one hand up to shield his eyes. He wasn’t one to hesitate, or fear, and he had thrown caution to the wind a long time ago – so he rose to his feet and strode to the door, ready to confront whatever his mind had chosen to conjure this time.

The minute his hand touched the handle of the door, a familiar voice said his name, but it wasn’t Eddie this time. J knew exactly who it was, and he rolled his neck in annoyance. It was that pompous black-market dealer Oswald Cobblepot.

The Penguin called for him to enter as though the Joker had been polite enough to knock on his own door.

J scowled at the door, but pushed it open none the less - his curiosity getting the better of him. However, he paused almost immediately by the sight that greeted him beyond the door. What should have been the hallway of his penthouse, no longer was. Instead, he seemed to have somehow opened the door into the unused penthouse dining room. To check he hadn’t somehow managed to completely blank out the hallway, J glanced backwards, seeing his desk, chair and shelves of books. He turned his attention back in front of him, and, sure enough, there was still the neat, unused table and chairs by the floor to ceiling windows that made up the dining room.

The Joker hesitated, but only for a moment, before he stepped into the room. The door immediately closed behind him, even though he gave it no shove, and when J glanced back at it in surprise, the door seemed to melt into the wall until there was no trace of it. Maybe he was dreaming this time.

But that didn’t matter to him at the moment, and he turned his gaze back into the room, seeming to see it with fresh eyes now. It wasn’t just his unused dining room, it had been luxuriously decorated with Christmas decorations of holly, golden tinsel, wreaths of orange and cinnamon, and a large decorative runner that ran along the length of the table, embroidered with red, green silver. At the head of the table sat Oswald Cobblepot, as large and regal as ever.

The Penguin regarded the Joker down the end of his nose with distaste. “Ah, the clown has finally arrived - though we all knew punctuality has never been your strong point.” He sniffed.

“What do you want, Ossie?” Drawled the Joker, barely managing to supress a snarl.

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present.” Said the Penguin, as if that explained everything. “Take a seat.” He said, gesturing with a flick of his meaty hands to rest of the table, but the Joker didn’t move. “Never mind then.” Dismissed the Penguin, uncaring. “The present can’t wait much longer.”

Penguin rose to his feet from his chair, which the Joker now realised was not a chair, but a pile of suitcases over flowing with cash and bags of coins and jewels.

This must be a dream.

The rotund man, made his way over to the Joker, but something seemed wrong about the man. J couldn’t place it until the man held his umbrella out. Penguin wasn’t limping. His path to him had been smooth and unencumbered by his twisted leg.

“Take hold of the umbrella.” The Penguin ordered.

The Joker had basically made it his life not to follow rules or instructions, but he had gone unwillingly with his last hallucination, and the experience that it had showed him seemed to have lightened his mind somehow - though clearly not removed his hallucinations – and was J’s intrigue was peaked with what this phantom would show him. He said no word, but lightly gripped the material, Penguin’s hand remaining on the top of the curved handle.

Just then, a cold, strong wind seemed to blow in through the windows which now appeared to hold no glass. The Joker tried to release his grip on the umbrella, but his hand seemed to be stuck fast, his fingers unable to uncurl and he was forced to keep a tight grip on the umbrella. The wind seemed to pick up more, blowing out the lights, despite the fact they were electric, and then seeming to blow out all the furniture and objects around them as well. Everything dissolved into a thick smoke that swirled around them, not choking, but obscuring everything until it faded to a light mist that settled around their feet where they stood on one of the many snowy streets in Gotham City.

J spun around, taking in the surroundings. The night didn’t seem to have changed much from the last time he’d been out here only an hour ago, except they were now stood on a street lined with tall office blocks or flats, and a cold drizzle of snow blurred J’s vision. The Penguin though, only had eyes on one thing, and the Joker followed his line of sight. It was a tall, rather grim looking block of flats that towered directly in front of them.

“What is this?” The Joker asked.

The Penguin turned to him, half obscured in the snow. “This is the present.” He said simply. Then a short gust of wind blinded them with a flurry of flakes, and, when it cleared, they found themselves in hallway lined with numbered doors that must have been flats. Joker looked at the door directly in front of them. It was dark grey with a chipped golden 23 screwed into the wood. As J was about to ask what the point in all of this was, the number 23 door swung open inwards. Except Penguin hadn’t touched it, and there was no one on the other side of the door. Instead, J had a clear view into the apartment within. It was furnished with minimal, basic furniture that had probably come with the place and it lacked any personalisation from the owner in any way except for a few plastic bags and takeout containers on the table by the sofa.

Penguin stepped in and the Joker automatically followed.

They walked past the small living room area and a small dining table, reaching the doorway of the kitchen. Here they found a young woman - probably in her late 20s - desperately trying to stop a pot, of what looked like potatoes, from boiling over.

The Penguin said nothing to explain why they were there, nor did the Joker ask, both of them just watching the scene before them as the woman – having just rescued the potatoes by lifting them off the hob – threw the saucepan back down again when the oven timer went off, grabbing instead for a pair of oven gloves on the counter near her.

The woman dove into the oven and removed a rather dry looking chicken which she quickly shoved onto a spare bit of work surface, shaking her hands where her oven mitts had thinned. Just then, the potatoes began to hiss and spit as they boiled over again as she had thrown them back onto the hob without thinking.

The woman quickly rescued her potatoes once more, moving them to safety by shoving a few dirty utensils out of the way on the sideboard. Happy that everything was safe once more, the woman lent against one of the counters, exhausted and wafting her face with her hand at the heat that had built up in the kitchen.

Before she had much time to relax, a young girl, about 6, appeared in the doorway next to the Joker, holding a worn and battered teddy. “Mummy!” She cried, “When’s Uncle Johnny coming back with Jimmy?” She whined, not noticing her mother’s flustered state.

“He should hopefully be back any minute, honey - God knows mummy needs his help.” She muttered as an aside.

The girl grinned at this positive answer and skipped straight past the two criminals watching the scene without seeing them, and into the living room area to obsessively watch the door, listening intently for footsteps.

The little girl didn’t have to wait too long, as within 5 minutes there was the sound of heavy feet on the hallway outside and then a key in the lock. The young girl jumped excitedly to her feet and raced to the door bouncing up and down with uncontrollable energy.

When the door opened, the Joker let out a breathy growl. Frost.

He had a young boy - who looked to be a similar age to the little girl - sat on his shoulders, gripping either side of his face.

“Frosty!” Screamed the little girl and ran at him, still clutching her teddy. Frosty knelt down and scooped up the girl as she hurtled towards him, lifting her easily.

“Hiya lottie, did ya miss us?” He asked with a grin, placing the girl on his hip. The man in front of J now looked nothing like how he knew him. Instead of his usual suit, tie and emotionless face, Frost as wearing jeans, a Christmas jumper and a grin as he looked down at the little girl.

“No. Not at all.” The little girl lied, but she couldn’t keep it up for long when she saw the look on her Uncle’s face - which was a dramatic look of devastation at this claim – and she soon burst into a fit of girlish giggles.

“You lied to me?” Frost asked in dramatic disbelief. The girl nodded through her giggles. “Can you believe that Jimmy? The porkies your sister tells!” Frost cried, lifting his head slightly to the boy perched above him.

Jimmy laughed at Frost’s clearly fake outrage. “Come on, let’s find your chair, and mummy.” Frost said, carrying both of the children into the flat and finally closing the door. The ‘chair’ in question had been pushed out of the way behind the sofa and Frost wheeled it out now, going to deposit Jimmy into it, but the young boy protested violently, wishing to stay on his Uncle’s shoulders instead.

“Ok, but make sure you duck when I go through a door, ok?” Frost said, “Or at least tap my head to make sure I remember to duck.” He teased, and the young boy eagerly nodded. They head for the kitchen then, Lottie skipping on behind them. “We’re back!” Called Frost to his sister who was still struggling with the Christmas Eve meal.

“Oh, thank God, Johnny!” She exclaimed, a look of relief in her eyes when he appeared. “I honestly suck at cooking!” She exclaimed, gesturing to the mess the kitchen was in, used plates and bowls scattered on every surface, stray pieces of food on the floor where they had fallen.

“And you think I’m any better?” Asked Frost with a laugh. His sister couldn’t help but smile at his good mood. “The fact you tried is what matters.” He reassured her with a hand on her shoulder, “I’ll give you a hand in a minute.” He added. “Now come on you two, let’s set the table.” And he pulled the children out of the kitchen again, grabbing a pile of plates and handing the cutlery to Jimmy on his shoulders.

He lay out the plates, calling up to Jimmy for the cutlery he needed which was promptly handed down to him - narrowly missing his nose a few times, but Frost didn’t mind -  and continuing to ask Lottie to remind him how many people he was laying the table for, keeping her giggling.

The Joker was lost in the scene before him. Frost was so good with the kids and they were on their best behaviour for him in return. The young Jimmy stayed on Frost’s shoulders as he set the table and still remained there when Frost went to help his sister in the kitchen. The young girl, Lottie, was also a constant shadow to the large criminal, asking to help where ever she could.

Eventually they all sat down to a slightly dry, over cooked dinner, but no one complained and all the dishes were finished – the children overcome with delight when a microwaved pudding was brought out for dessert.

The Joker and Penguin stayed there the whole time, listening to the conversation and – though they must have been there for hours – it barely felt like any time before they were watching the kids being packed off to bed.

The two adults settled on the small sofa afterwards with a strong drink.

“That was a wonderful meal, Lucy, really.” Said Frost, toasting to her.

“Don’t thank me!” She protested. “It was you who payed for it! And who saved it in the end!” She said, raising her glass to him.

“I guess we should thank the Joker, really, otherwise I’d be stuck in prison with no money and no use for my cooking skills.” Joked Frost.

“I will not raise a glass to that insane criminal!” Said Lucy moodily. “I know what sort of a man he is – even if you choose to ignore it! You wouldn’t have ended up in that prison if it wasn’t for him anyway!” She snarled.

“Woah Lucy! Cool down.” Frost said, gesturing for her to tone it down. “You know better than anyone else that I was destined for prison years before I met the Joker – I had nothing else and always got in trouble! Plus, what other job would I get on with a criminal record, hmm? Nothing that pays this well! I’d end up in a fast food joint on minimum wage and I wouldn’t be able to help you out with supporting the kids.” Frost pointed out. Lucy scowled, but remained silent, resigning herself to the truth.

“He’ll miss you when we go.” She said suddenly, “Jimmy.” She clarified, taking a sip from her glass. “And Lottie – they’ll both miss you.”

“He’s a good kid – they both are.” Said Frost, his face no longer showing any sign of the happy, laughing person he had been only an hour ago, now he just looked very tired.

“He loves being on your shoulders.” Lucy said, reminiscing to her son’s smiling face early. “He hates that bloody wheelchair almost as much as I do.”

“Have you spoken to the doctor about crutches?” Asked Frost, “At least then he’d be trying to use his legs more – might help.”

“The doctors say his arms are too weak and frail – he wouldn’t be able to support himself on them for long.” Lucy said sadly. “But they also say if he doesn’t start to use his muscles soon, he’ll only deteriorate - and he’s depressed enough as it is…” She trailed off

Frost looked at his sister sadly, placing a large hand on her knee in comfort. “You know you’re always welcome to stay here.” He said.

“You know I’d take that up in a heartbeat, Johnny – you’ve always been such a help – but I can’t do that to you - you do enough as it is. Besides, this place isn’t big enough for 4 people – especially when two of them are hyperactive kids.” Lucy murmured, her eyes showing her hopelessness.

Frost knew she was right and just gazed sadly off, sipping at his glass.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a sharp blast of snowy wind cut across the Joker’s vision, blurring the scene before him and it dissolved before his eyes.

“Tell me, Ossie…” Drawled the Joker as the snow sped past them, “Do you know what’s gonna happen to that kid?” Despite this having to be created by his brain, he felt the hallucination was likely to know more about this then he consciously did – they seemed to be quite otherworldly and omnipotent – and the Joker had the odd urge to know a bit more about this young boy’s future.

The Penguin regarded him with an unimpressed look and a raised eyebrow. “If nothing changes, then he won’t live to see his high school graduation.” The Penguin muttered, sounding anything but interested.

The snow finally cleared and J was able to see more than an inch in front of him again. It didn’t take long for the Joker to recognise their surroundings even in the darkness of the early morning. They were on the outskirts of Gotham and directly in front of them was a bungalow.

“Care to tell me, why we’re stood on a toxic waste dump, Ossie?” Snarled the Joker, trying to keep himself civil to the hallucination, but the anger in his voice was obvious behind his restraint.

“Always so foolish.” Tutted the Penguin. “You’re safe.” He muttered, though he didn’t sound pleased about this fact. If this had been the real Penguin, J probably wouldn’t have believed him, but this should all just be a hallucination anyway - so he should be safe. Yet, everything up till now had been so real that he had panicked when he saw the familiar swamp-like surroundings, the darkness making it even more menacing. He had to admit Pamela had style – and good security.

The two men wandered closer to the bungalow that – from the outside – look abandoned like all the other buildings in this area, expect for the fact that it had numerous colourful lights draped around it.

That wasn’t Pamela’s style. Which only meant she wasn’t alone.

The men stopped outside the main front window which showed into the rather small living room with a couple of sofas, an electric fire and a TV. The room was decorated quite extravagantly with lights, tinsel and festive ornaments. And, sure enough, curled up on one of the sofas was Pamela Isley, her arm wrapped around none other than Harley Quinn. Both in thick, fluffy pyjamas watching a movie -  Harley close to drifting off in Pamela’s arms - looking completely content with life and missing no in their own little world.

“Why are you showing me this?” Demanded the Joker, turning to the Penguin next to him.

Penguin shrugged, “Maybe to show you that no one needs you in their lives. That if you choose to leave them, they live on and they will be happy. But you will always be alone.”

The Joker scowled darkly at the plump man. He could talk – J doubted anyone would miss ol’ Ossie here if he happened to vanish - except maybe his customers.  Joker hated to admit it, but the man was a half-decent smuggler and dealer.

As J thought about this, the lights in the room in front of him suddenly went out. He frowned at the window, the light suddenly flickering back on, but this time J’s view into the room was blocked by a large Christmas tree decked in golden lights and different coloured baubles.

J blinked, and the next thing he knew he was stood in the hallway of a rather large house. On his right was a doorway through which he could hear voices. He peered through and saw a small gathering of 6 people on comfy sofas, enjoying a strong drink after having retired from their evening meal. The fire was roaring in the hearth and, sat against the window, was the large tree that had blocked J’s view a moment ago.

Suddenly his attention was caught by a laugh that seemed to drown out all other voices in the room  “[Y/N]” He growled and his eyes snapped to the source of the sound, finding [Y/N] chuckling away to something the man next to her had said.

“That was a wonderful meal, by the way, [Y/N].” said one of the ladies on the other side of the room, raising her sherry glass to her. Even from this distance, J could see her blush.

“Yes, delightful!” Cried another person in agreement.

“Shame that the 7th person couldn’t make it.” Added another one, clearly not knowing who it was that was missing.

“Well… Yes…” Said [Y/N] uneasily.

“Didn’t you say he was awfully rude about it though?” Asked a rather uptight looking lady close to the fire.”

“Yes, he was bit…” Muttered [Y/N], clearly not happy about the direction the conversation had now turned. “But I guess he didn’t miss much though.”

“Only a great meal!” Cried one.

“And wonderful laughs!” Called another. “Bah humbug to him too!”

“Oh, there’s no need for that!” Cried [Y/N]. “I believe the man is miserable enough without it.” She said. “Besides, I don’t hate him for how he rejected my invitation.” She explained, “No matter how rude he was. It just makes me sad to think of him all alone, missing better company then he could ever have in that head of his, stuck in that old office.” [Y/N] mused. “I do however, mean to continue to invite him here each year - despite his uncouth words. I feel like I am defying him and his bah humbugs that way – the fact that each year I return in good temper to ask once more.  And maybe I incite the smallest amount of a Christmas in him by doing so – and that is enough for me.” [Y/N] finished, taking a large gulp of air. Clearly, she had been thinking about this matter a long time, and this line of conversation had finally brought it out of her.

“Hear, hear!” The room called jovially to her speech.

“You truly are a sweet person. [Y/N] – you just embrace the meaning of Christmas!” Cried one of the younger women. “I would probably have slapped that man silly by now!”

[Y/N] laughed heartily, “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it!” She teased.

The scene then seemed to ripple like water and a clock tolled two o’clock in the darkness that then consumed them. The Joker didn’t even realise he had closed his eyes until he opened them again and found himself back, once more, in his office.

The Penguin was nowhere in sight.

J didn’t bother to search for the man. He was starting to get the gist of when his hallucinations were over. He didn’t even bother to reach for his drink this time either. No amount of alcohol was going to help this, and it would probably only make it worse if he were to drink himself into a stupor.

Besides, he knew someone else was going to come now. Marlo had warned J of 3 hallucinations and J believed there would be 3.

So the Joker wasn’t surprised when he turned away from the office door and saw a tall, dark, cloaked figure silhouetted in the window behind his desk.

[utopianparadoxist]

Jake English is the most intelligent character in Homestuck. And he hides it deliberately.

For a given value of “intelligence”, anyway. I don’t hold that much truck with the concept in general--there are different kinds of intelligence that run the gamut of human skills, and reducing that to a single concept is reductive, to say the least.

However, it’s hard to deny that there are real cultural forces in our society that do treat intelligence as a monolithic descriptor of skill and worth, and it’s a cultural idea as pervasive in reality as it is in Jake’s character arc. For that reason alone, I’ll be using “intelligence” as a term referring to Jake’s awareness of and competence at identifying and solving problems throughout this sequence. The term as I am using it here is only relevant in the context of the themes and language Homestuck sets up. 

Intelligence, competence, and awareness are key parts of Jake’s relationship with the people around him, and particularly with the way he is dehumanized, taken for granted, and abused. 

In fact, almost every character Jake is close to in canon questions his intelligence at some point:

And this dynamic isn’t just present in the characters. It’s in the fandom as well.  Fandom perception of Jake English often considers him comically unaware of his surroundings and reality, dense and slow or even straight up unable to pick up on ideas that come naturally to many of the other characters. This is true across the board of opinions of his character: Some consider Jake a self-absorbed, thoughtless asshole, others still consider him a helpless victim who isn’t quite quick enough on the uptake to keep up with how he’s manipulated by others. It’s hard for us--the fandom, I mean--to be sure of just how much Jake understood about how badly Lil Hal treated him (and by association, Dirk, in much of the fandom’s eyes). Or that Jane liked him. Among other things. It’s part of the general air of helplessness and incompetence that surrounds Pages, I guess, and air set up around Jake for quite a lot of his narrative:

(Note: This is Brain Ghost Dirk specifically questioning Jake’s intelligence.   I hope you’ve got some good note taking pens, because this is going to be important later.) It’s pretty much accepted that the degree and reach of Jake’s intelligence is, at the very least, a matter of debate. I am here to say that it is not. At all. And I can prove it. By allowing ourselves to doubt Jake’s intelligence, we--the fandom-- have performed the equivalent of deciding Dave’s cool guy act is the real deal. 

We have fallen for Jake’s bluff. I’ll explain. 

Plenty of people are aware that Knights, as a class, tend to act out personas that reflect ideas about how they think they should act.  For Dave, that’s the stoic Cool Guy archetype, which he eventually grows out of:

For Karkat, it’s his ideas of being a Ruthless Big Shot Leader, which he also outgrows by the end: 

And Latula has the thing about being a R4D SK4T3R G4M3G1RL!!! I don’t really think we need a quote to establish that--Dave and Karkat prove my point well enough, and this is pretty much common fandom knowledge.  What I don’t think is common fandom knowledge is that Pages do the same thing, but for a different purpose. Pages and Knights both set up Personas that they project into the outside world. And both of them do it to control how other people perceive them. But for different reasons. Knights do it because they want to be perceived as capable, in control, and unflappable, basically. Karkat wants everyone to rely on his executive ability as a Leader. Dave wants to be admired and validated by his friends, or. Well. Anyone. In essence, Knights want to be relied on by others.  Pages, on the other hand, develop this fabricated identity for themselves. At this point, I should mention I’ve come to agree with Tex Talk’s view that Knights are a passive class and Pages are an active one.  Knights use their aspect to benefit others. Pages use it to benefit themselves.

Horrus develops a strangely blank persona, so conspicuously fake it is hard to tell if he even reacts to input--so it’s easy for him to just pretend he didn’t hear it when Rufioh tells him he wants to break up--again, I don’t really feel like going through all of Openbound to get all the screencaps and I don’t think they warrant that much space on this post.  Tavros does the same thing, enveloping himself in his games and fantasy so much that he veers away from almost any responsibility in the session, and does only what he wants to...unless Vriska is stealing that ability from him. However, even through her abuse,  Tavros manages through sheer presentation of his person to encourage the other trolls to help take care of him. 

Specifically, by giving him increased mobility--mobility and freedom of movement being concepts closely related to Breath. It’s worth mentioning Tavros is able to inspire this care not just in Kanaya, but in Equius, who looks down upon lowbloods and whose culture would have encouraged him to KILL Tavros for his weakness rather than help him.  But because of Vriska’s exploitative and cruel influence on him, I’m not sure to what extent he really lives up to his full potential. That said, he DOES manage to completely live out his own personal fantasy, coming to embody both his childhood image of Peter Pan...

BUT ALSO being the only one of the Alternian trolls to accomplish his original childhood goal: Becoming a Cavalreaper.

Get it? He’s literally cavalry. Ha ha. Is this kind of a fucked up victory? Maybe, yeah. But it’s fitting that the character obsessed with the Peter Pan fantasy of leading a troupe of “Lost Boys” never really grows up with the goals he sets for himself. Maybe it says something about Tavros, or about the nature of Ghosts--either way, it definitely seems intentional.  Anyway, the Ghosts are another essay for another time. Time to talk about the kid I actually want to talk about:

Jake English has a fabricated persona, too. For Horuss, it’s nothingness. For Tavros, it’s endless childhood and Peter Pan. But Jake’s persona is a contrast to Dirk’s (and Dave’s) Cool Guy persona. Personas that, for each of them, sit at the dead opposite end of the spectrum from who all three characters actually are. 

And for Jake’s constructed persona is that of the Hot-Headed Hero.

And like Horrus and Tavros, Jake indulges this fantasy version of himself even when he actively knows it makes no sense to do so, simply because it’s the fantasy about his life he wants to live out. 

But like Dave and Dirk’s presentation of themselves as cool guys unphased by anything, this persona is a complete lie. Jake is demonstrably extremely nerdy... He collects pointless minutiae about his favorite movies and comic books. He looks up to comic book heroines so much he wants to dress up like them.  And also intelligent, curious, and good at evaluating the potential consequences of his actions--traits he literally willfuly holds himself back from. 

His Modus is by far the most complex of all the kids. He uses a Puzzle Modus that allows him to fit any amount of items he wants in it’s storage space...so long as he can successfully spatially fit every single object within a finite space. 

And Jake captchalogues a LOT of shit. Meaning he has to keep all of this inventory and know how to spatially navigate it to fit everything he wants at all times. And he does this casually, as a part of his daily interactions with the world around him.  But perhaps more telling than that is how Brain Ghost Dirk describes his own creation: 

Brain Ghost Dirk implies that he is a Dirk splinter, but specifically a Dirk splinter that exists entirely through the ideas Jake has about Dirk. 

In other words, Jake knows and understands Dirk so well that he can pretty much perfectly remember his body, movements and mannerisms on command. Again, not even actively, it’s just kind of how Jake English rolls-thinking about Dirk all the time is the status quo. 

And Brain Ghost Dirk claims to be Jake’s literal brain, talking back to him. Which means when Brain Ghost Dirk calls Jake out on something, he is forcibly communicating important information to Jake that Jake is actively choosing to ignore. It’s Jake talking to himself, not Dirk giving Jake information he doesn’t have by talking to him through Brain Ghost Dirk. We have reason to believe the Ghost about this, since Dirk never expresses having any awareness of Brain Ghost Dirk’s existence.  So what important information does Jake willingly ignore? Well, earlier we saw him justify beating up a random alien girl even though a part of his brain knew she wasn’t actually Sea Hitler, and he kind of just wanted to play the part. But surely we can do better than that. How about everything about his friends’ feelings about him that makes him uncomfortable? Callmearcturus wrote this brilliant thesis outlining why she thinks Jake deliberately manipulated Jane into failing to confess to him, but I’m gonna run over it real quick to ground it in this context and sell you on the idea that this is, in fact, not a theory and explicit canon. Because we don’t need to guess at this by reverse-engineering Jake’s well-established feelings for Dirk. Roxy literally tells him Jane has these feelings before Jane herself does:

Jake recognizes what Roxy is saying, and guesses what she was alluding to on her own. Roxy doesn’t deny it by any measure, and when she asks Jake to drop the issue, Jake says he understands the dilemma this puts her in with Jane.  To stress: He received this information in confidence and knows it for a fact. And he trusts the information he receives so much that he then ACTS on it. After talking to Roxy, Jake messages Jane himself, OPENING by mentioning Roxy told him Jane was going to be contacting him.

And then he himself broaches the subject of their romantic feelings for each other:

But when Jane outright asks him if he has something he wants to say to her, Jake expertly dodges the question, keeping his options open while putting the onus of taking the first step and revealing her feelings on Jane again. 

And then, once he’s got her trying to answer...

He KEEPS asking her, interrupting her several times while she starts to try sorting out her thoughts. He puts Jane under a LOT of pressure here, which...considering Jake literally KNOWS the answer, is a pretty shitty thing to do! Even if Roxy hadn’t LITERALLY TOLD HIM mere minutes ago, Jane’s reactions here would have confirmed Jake’s suspicions beyond a reasonable shadow of a doubt. 

Unless, of course, one has a reputation for not thinking things through or being aware of their surroundings. 

Once Jake has his answer, he doubles back, making sure to ask her AGAIN while she’s off balance....

And he then shuts her down when she tries to take the initiative on taking it back and being honest, quickly following up by IMMEDIATELY letting her know he’s relieved about this--signaling his disinterest BEFORE she has a chance to reveal she actually does have a stake in the matter.

He then uses his goofy, unaware, trusting persona to set up a status quo where Jane continually helps him by acting as a sounding board for all his thoughts about Dirk--essentially, putting Jane inside a gender-flipped version of the laughable stereotype of The Friend Zone.

But wait a minute. Jane is one thing. But if Jake is actually this smart, aware, and capable--then it kind of has ramifications across all of his character interactions. What else changes if we read Jake this way? I know I said my next post would be on Roxy, but, uh...yeah. This one kind of got away from me. 

In our next entry, we’re going to talk about Why Jake does what he does, and Why he seems so genuinely confused about it later into his narrative. We’re also going to look at some of the other consequences his Jake’s approach to his friendships has for his friends. 

We’ll also make a case for Why exactly Jake ultimately falls in love with Dirk Strider, how and when Jake demonstrates and acts on that love, and if I can manage to squeeze it in--maybe even uncover the way the Heart aspects’ two different themes of  Souls and Romance/Shipping are conceptually connected.

And on that note, it’s worth pointing out that there’s one notable exception to the list of people fooled by Jake’s presented persona. One character who not only never talks Jake’s intelligence down...

But instead talks Jake’s intelligence UP when he talks badly about himself. 

Dirk Strider.

See you again soon, everyone. 

Until then, Keep Rising. 

[knclarin-blog]

no. 18 magnum opus [final]

The Asian Beauty Standard: Is White Right? 

By Kristine Clarin 

Umbrellas, sunscreen and shadows--these were some of the ways I was taught to keep my skin white and bright. Growing up in the Philippines, my grandmothers and aunts urged me to wear a hat and slather my body with SPF 55+ because as soon as I stepped out into the sun, the only potential threat was not the risk of a sunburn, but the mere idea of getting a few shades tanner. A subject that is often overlooked in mainstream culture is the problem that within the East Asian community, the idea of white skin and Westernized features are glorified while tan skin and Asian features are frowned upon.

For decades Westernized beauty standards have circulated within this community, and unfortunately, darker skinned Asians such as Filipinos, Malaysians, Vietnamese people and so on, are shamed for failing to strive or maintain white skin. My aunts would give compliments when my skin was lighter than usual but would scold me when I was a tad bit darker, describing me as “dirty”. Being surrounded by this mentality, I genuinely believed that white skin was the only skin that fit under the definition of beauty. Sadly, this childhood is not only exclusive to myself but to most, if not all East Asian girls. In history, skin colour determined social status. The lower class would generally be working tirelessly under the sun while people of higher stature avoided the rays by staying in the shade. While this mindset doesn’t apply to modern day as much, many people still see dark skin as something negative and undesirable. Fortunately in North American society, we are taught to love our features which increases self confidence. However, this isn’t the case in other parts of the world and skin colour is not the only issue.

In Asia, the use of whitening products and undergoing cosmetic surgeries to look “Westernized” are as popular as ever. Statistics show that there has been a 20% increase in cosmetic surgeries between 2011-2012 and the numbers continue to rise rapidly. A 12 year-old girl named Lee Min Kyoung in Korea lacked confidence growing up. Her mother’s solution to her daughter’s shyness? Plastic surgery. Min Kyoung did not ask for the procedure but her mother insisted because “this is a society where you have to be pretty to get ahead” implying that she did not think her daughter’s looks were adequate. After the surgery, she became confident in her appearance because of her new eye shape. Lee Min Kyoung, like many adolescents, are still learning to accept themselves and being constantly pressured to “look a little less Asian and look more American” restricts them from doing so. This way of thinking is just not acceptable. Western features became a “need” rather than a “want” as this glorification continues to spread through the constant advertising of skin whitening products, celebrity endorsements, white washing, as well as the mentality of older generations.

Growing up in a Filipino household, I’ve gotten used to the sound of my grandmother’s daily dose of teleseryes or “soap operas” echoing from our living room. It wasn’t long until I started to indulge in these addicting television series and soon became obsessed with the main leads. Afterwards, my addiction went further as I branched off to watching Filipino variety and talk shows. Looking back at that phase, I realized that most, if not all of the celebrities were advocates for skin whitening products. From creams, to soaps to pills, they’ve vouched for them all. There’s even a brand called “SkinWhite” selling a range of products dedicated to achieving a fair complexion. Being a darker skinned girl, it was very hard for me to resist the temptations of wanting to be as “beautiful” and “perfect” as my soap opera idols and I did everything I possibly could to keep myself from tanning. Staying indoors, using bottles upon bottles of sunscreen and using every kind of chemical there is to achieve “perfection” while my family encouraged and even participated.  It is extremely saddening to know for a fact that others felt the same way I did and went to even greater lengths. Many people in the East Asian community have gone to the extremes to get the perfect pale complexion, even if it meant putting their lives at risk. An outbreak in Hong Kong occurred when certain whitening creams contained between 9,000 and 65,000 times more than the recommended dose of mercury, hospitalizing several women. However, women are not the only ones that feel the societal pressures of Eurocentric beauty because men feel the same way.

We often focus on how women see themselves and forget that the Asian beauty standard is a broad spectrum that shelters men as well. Many of my Asian-male friends are also surrounded by the idea that Western beauty is ideal. GQ (Gentlemen’s Quarterly) is one of the most well known men’s magazines and released its first issue in 1957. Fast forward to present day, GQ has over 600,000 monthly subscribers with more than half of the demographic to be men. In its 60 years of publication, GQ has only featured one Asian male on the cover which was back in 1996 and that was Jackie Chan. Almost all of the men on the covers were white, but doesn’t reflect the audience that the magazine reaches. It is without a doubt that many East Asians boys and men read their monthly issues and it is discouraging to see that what society constantly idolizes are people that look nothing like them. Asian-men become alienated and it’s implied that they are not attractive the way they are. By the looks of it, they are not worthy of being on the cover of magazines, but the same white males are offered several features in their careers not only on the US issues but in Asian ones as well.

Many people have labelled Asians to be those nerds that don’t know how to have a good time and all of them happen to be Chinese. Asian girls are submissive and cute, while Asian men are weak, short and have small--- nevermind. Society has painted this picture for the whole world to look at East Asians as nothing more than their stereotypes, that they’re not complex human beings like everyone else and we can give credit to the lack of representation in Hollywood. Recently there has been a rise in the remakes of movies and shows originating from East Asia, some of them I personally loved watching growing up. I was absolutely livid to discover that Scarlett Johansson would be the leading actress for the movie Ghost in the Shell which was once a Japanese animated film and that the show Death Note based in Japan would have a Netflix remake with no Asians in the cast whatsoever. The thought of Hollywood taking shows and movies from East Asia but have the audacity not to cast a single Asian, aggravates me. There is a plethora of roles to be filled by white actors and actresses while Asians aren’t even able to play characters that represent or supposed to represent their ethnic backgrounds. How are aspiring actors and actresses of Asian descent supposed to work for their dreams when they aren’t even given the chance to? Many people let go of their aspirations because it seems nearly impossible to be casted, no matter how hard they work. The roles that are available for them are the stereotypical nerds and immigrants with Chinese accents, not allowing these young actors and actresses to experiment and grow as artists. I grew up with very few role models in Hollywood because I had no one like myself with the same background and upbringing to take inspiration from. I looked up to actresses like Anne Hathaway, and Meryl Streep, not that I’m saying they are not talented, but I believed that I had to look like them in order to achieve anything in life. Although there have been steps taken to diversify Hollywood and the media, I still believe that even now, the mentality is “white is right”. Besides American culture, whitewashing is also a huge problem within East Asia itself.

In the past couple years, I found myself delving into the world of South Korean pop music. At first, I was in it for the head-bopping tunes, but then I slowly got deeper and deeper into the fandoms as well as the basic structure of the music industry in that country. I discovered that my beloved k-pop idols are constantly under the pressure of having porcelain skin. Fans take pictures of the stars and photoshop them so that their skin is whiter, smooth, clear and completely free from imperfections. The celebrities too, become ashamed of their skin and pile on products to remove the dark pigments because they feel as if the fans will not support them if they looked a certain way. Fans bash on their idol’s natural complexion because they think that it’s ugly and dirty. At one meet and greet of a group called Winner, a fan came up to a member named Mino, begging and pleading him to use whitening creams because he was dark. In a once and a lifetime event, the fan chose to criticize their idol, rather than expressing their gratitude for their music. How crazy is that? Another idol, Hyorin from the girl group Sistar has noticeably tanner skin and the public is blind to her talent and beauty because her “scandalous” complexion is what makes it on the headlines. I am in a constant state of confusion when it comes to this issue because not only are the celebrities already being targeted in the public eye, but picking on their slightly tanned skin makes them even more vulnerable. Skin colour has no correlation to one’s talent and ability to entertain, so what’s the big problem? It all stems from the idea that white skin is the right skin and that Western and European features are desirable.

Women and men of Asian descent as a result, detest their appearance and strive to Westernize because of the lack representation, the glorification of white skin and the constant shaming of those with darker complexions. Being a South East Asian girl, it took time and an accepting environment to realize that the Asian beauty standard is indeed a serious problem. I would look at myself in the mirror and wonder why I tanned so easily and why my eyes were so small. It’s sad to know that I was not alone in those insecurities. Why is light skin, a taller nose and bigger eyes deemed to be exclusively beautiful in the East Asian community? Shouldn’t we embrace our differences and accept that being unique is not a bad thing? My hope is that Asians and even non-Asians will learn to accept, admire and appreciate their features while educating others on inclusivity and self love. In the past, it was definitely not easy but now, I see beauty in myself and in others. Tan skin and all.

[fountainpenguin]

What do you think of Jazz Fenton? I wasn't sure about her at first, but since "My Brother's Keeper", she's really starting to grow on me. I think she might even be my second-favourite character (after Danny). I wanted to ask you this because you've implied that you're studying Psychology or something - do you identify with Jazz's interest in psychology, or do you think her portrayal continues to peddle stereotypes about the field?

Ah, you must be the Anon who asked if “Danny Phantom” was worth watching. I hope I haven’t given you too many spoilers if you’re still making your way through it. Then again, if I did I won’t feel too bad, ‘cuz the show’s been off the air for ages.

Jazz is good. She has both strengths and flaws, and I like that. Keep loving her- she just gets better and better in later episodes.

I find her to be pretty accurate as a psychology student. She takes obsessive notes about her family, but that’s more of a Jazz trait then a psych one. She never references any real-life studies or people in the field, if I remember correctly, which works well for the creators because then you don’t end up with people like me double- and triple-checking her facts and being nitpicky. She keeps things loose and general, and is written in such a way that you can’t tell if she was written by someone who majored in an aspect in psychology, or if someone with limited knowledge just gave it their best shot. It works!

Jazz is into a lot of the same stuff I am: behavior analysis, cognition, things like that. She’s a pretty cool character.Given that Youngblood seems to be pretty sharp on those things himself, I see the pair as opposites in the field. Youngblood’s into Thorndike’s work- ESPECIALLY law of recency (that the most recent response is likely to occur again), though he doesn’t know what it’s called. When he watches people, he constantly tries to stay one step ahead of the game, constantly discarding or rewriting previous assumptions and incorporating new information. 

Jazz would have a nightmare with that- she would be like “NO! This thing happened! It must be weighed equally against all their other behaviors, because cognition is king and everyone’s outward behaviors reflect their inner self all the time!” while Youngblood would be like, “Dude, she was sick that day, had lost her keys on vacation, and her kids were stressing her out- just treat it as an outlier and toss it”. Not that this comment is based on personal experience or anything. 

Basically, Jazz is way more likely than Youngblood to fall prey to fundamental attribution error. She views what people do as part of their personality. Youngblood attributes many behaviors as a result of the situation too.

But Youngblood tries to analyze and react on his feet after gathering limited information, leading him to be wrong way more than Jazz. What I wrote for him in “No Anesthetic” (specifically the middle part where he made the assumption that Candy was going to shoot at him, and he needed to time his run at her immediately after this because she would be reloading her blaster; you can use your computer’s search option to find the word “surrender” if you want to jump straight to it) is more or less the limits of his psychological knowledge. 

What I mean by that is, he’s good at reading people and noticing details of their personalities. And their surroundings. Again citing “No Anesthetic”, when he was in Painter’s lair, he took the environment into the situation (“He has a fruit bowl on the counter? I guess ghosts need to eat”, while environment is a detail Jazz just doesn’t pay attention to because she focuses on internal stuff. After noticing the environment, Youngblood concludes a person’s cognition based off their behaviors (an upcoming scene for “N.A.” where he explains to Sitarist why he thinks Skulker invited Technus over for breakfast despite Skulker having said earlier he himself never eats food in the Ghost Zone because he prefers meat from the outside will make this especially obvious).

Yep, Youngblood is a people reader. This was implied in “Fenton Menace” with his comments that Jazz “thinks she’s an adult”, despite the fact he shouldn’t know her very well, so he’s had limited time to observe her and yet was still spot-on with this, and the fact that he knew exactly what to do to make Danny fear he was going crazy, and cheerfully said, “One more day of driving him nuts, and his family will be ready to chuck him to the crazy persons’ huzkow!” That’s something I find fascinating about him- he didn’t want Danny dead, he didn’t have plans to expose him to his family as the ghost boy, and he doesn’t even want to take over the world. He just wanted to use psychology to make Danny miserable out of revenge for his sunken pirate ship.

Anyway, you asked about Jazz. Youngblood observes people in the moment, trying to use the current environment as a cue for how they’ll act. Jazz (bless her heart) is a note-taker extraordinaire. Youngblood acts, Jazz mainly observes. He predicts the cognition of people he barely knows (and is sometimes wrong), while Jazz prefers to gather as much information as possible and conclude a person’s cognition from their behavior based on all of that. It’s safer that way- she wouldn’t handle Youngblood’s way of life, because he’s wrong way too often for her.

And she doesn’t really do much with the info from her notes. She just likes to have it. She probably plays little games with herself, guessing what someone will do and then watching to see if she’s right. She often is, though will fall into a bad mood when she isn’t.

As implied by the first episode of the series, she seems to have a heavy interest in developmental psychology too (which I didn’t give Youngblood). And being older and actually learning psychology more than picking bits up mostly on her own, Jazz is definitely better versed in psychology than Youngblood is, so while his knowledge of classical conditioning is hazy and only goes as far as his own observations, Jazz is an expert in that stuff, and presumably uses it all the time, along with the Ben Franklin effect (asking people to do favors for you so their brain assumes “If I’m doing this for this person, I must like them” and they start liking you).

If that makes any sense. So yes, Jazz seems to be psychologically accurate.

Headcanon that Jazz dressed up as Sigmund Freud for Halloween one year.

[la-pheacienne]

#i am obsessed with the fact that this boy has so many ghosts surrounding him#here are rhaegar and lyanna's ghosts getting handsy in the afterlife#and that is robb's crown bc there's also a legacy there#insane how jon's legacy is love#he's a bastard! and yet the outcome of an unlikely and impossible love#he was loved! otherwise this story makes no sense

What is honor compared to a woman’s love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms… or the memory of a brother’s smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.

Jon Snow - and family that haunts him, because sometimes ghosts make for the best love stories.