#i did get told that private schools are usually way worse than public ones on this sort of thing but public schools aren't hiring rn

[petr1kov]

thinking about how my previous job sucked. first week before we started to work we got these 'seminars' where the school principal basically talked bullshit for hours on end, made us take ridiculous personality tests, bad mouthed the paulo freire method, assured that the school's policy was one of self-improvement (meaning: meritocracy) and, worst of all, said all sorts of prejudiced stuff, even if thinly-veiled. either about how 'handing things to people' based on race was discriminatory (definitely talking about racial quotas), about how the education style they had there was a 'solid' one that didn't give in to 'fads' corrupting kids (definitely homophobia, in-context), and especially the ones that corrupted the portuguese language (talking about trans people and gender-neutral pronouns), stuff like that. that week was torture.

i felt disgusted to be working there at all, honestly, but i did need the job and the salary was well above average. but as you might imagine, the workplace was not a good one... very competitive and demanding, even of your online availability on hours before and after the job. also, i felt really out of place there. i'm not 100% sure why they let me go and they were at least polite about it, but i think that's probably the main reason, tbh. maybe i couldn't hide my discontent so well.

i'm trying to find something new now, sending cv's to a lot of places, but the thought of having to walk into a classroom again and deal with these sorts of people make me feel genuinely ill, like, sick to my stomach. but at the same time, i do need to find a job in my area, i definitely need the money and a stable source of income asap, so i guess i'll just have to power through or have a sudden career change (unlikely) 😐

idk. i guess it's just hard to feel excited for the future when so much of your time revolves around performing a job and almost every job ever fucking sucks

[knullanon]

invincible bullshit that i came up with 10 days ago i just forgot about it

ngaoevnbiaebiw its here @anxiousnerdwritings i hope you like it i got inspired by you to write this

words: 2196

warnings: past arguing, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ENTIRE SEASON 1, shooting, arguing, past manipulation

“Reports of who killed the Guardians of the globe are starting to surface, with our agents finding out about the supposed killer: we know they spared Omni-Man, killed the rest of the members, and then fled. We also know they are not from earth. Lots of people have speculated that Omni-Man is the one behind these killings, however, the government has ruled out that being a possibility, since there was no evidence of Omni-Man doing these actions. More at 7 tonight on-”

The program stopped playing as you saw a contact appear on the top of the screen, and reading it, you immediately perked up.

Swiping on the green button, you happily said, “Hey, Dad! What’cha need?”

You heard a chuckle from the other end, before he said, “Hey kiddo, how you holding up?”

“Nothing much going on here, you good over there?”

“Yup, mostly everything is fine. You know my work, they always have something for me to do.”

“Hopefully that clears up soon.”

“Yeah, hey, listen, where are you right now?”

Ugh, not this again. Your mood slightly dropped as you remembered a few years ago, when you first met Cecil. He wasn’t as good as he is now, and he would always be asking where you would be. Even in school. However, that was all in the past, since you were older, he now knew that you were responsible enough to do things on your own. At least, that’s what he wanted you to believe.

“Uh, well, I was just gonna go hang out with some friends and then go back home. Why?”

“Ok, listen to me very carefully: one of my guys is gonna pick you up near Bridgetown, ok? You’re gonna get a bracelet from them and then I’ll explain the rest here.”

What the fuck? “Oh, um, ok, when will they be there?”

“About 5 minutes. Be there soon, love you, bye.”

He hung up the phone quickly, which was extremely rare, even for him, since he would never show his love to you out publicly and you would feel weird if he even did. However, on the phone or in private he was a completely different person, having a great personality and he was an even better dad.

Well, he did say to hurry up, and 5 minutes. You checked the time and when you saw it was near 1. You strided your way towards the street he told you to meet on, and cheerfully thought of the ways to hang out with your friends after whatever he wanted to do. Maybe you could go to the mall? Maybe the food court? You’ve been meaning to try those damn milkshakes at that new bar everyone is talking about, but it was always so crowded. You never liked crowded places in the first place.

Suddenly, your phone rang again. This time, when you checked, it was your dad again. Strange. It was weird for him to call you twice in a row. He usually got to the point within a few sentences.

Picking up the phone, you said, “Hey dad-”

“________, listen to me. Get to someplace safe now. Get out of the road. Get out of the public. I don't care if you have to go inside someone else’s house, just get out of sight.”

Stopping in the middle of the road you let out some surprised stutters. “Wh- Dad, what are you talking about?”

“_______, please, just listen to me when I say this, you are in danger and you need to get out of there.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

You were shuffling around trying to find a good place to “hide” while your dad went into complete panic mode in his voice. “_______, find a place to hide, and whatever you do, get out of open space.”

You heard him speak to someone off the phone, before he cursed out loud. “I have to call you back, but someone will be there, wherever you are, ok? I… I love you.”

Before you could answer him, he hung up the phone. Anxiety was the only thing you could feel, as you looked around the desolate neighborhood. There was a reason why you chose this area over others: it was quiet and small. Not only that, but the only people who walked this way were people who were not fond of bigger crowds. In fact, you haven’t seen anyone go this way for a long time. You always wondered why, since it was the perfect way to get robbed. Of course, that would never happen, especially with all those lessons from your dad about self defense.

The street you were on had walls surrounding the sidewalk to prevent people from going into people's backyards, probably. They were too high up to climb, and they were concrete, so it wouldn’t be easy to just hop over and call it a day.

However, you were almost at the end of the street, and you knew there was a little patch of bushes and leaves that would provide the perfect cover. They were almost as tall as your dad, which always made you wonder who was watering them to be that big.

Pacing quickly towards the end of the street, and seeing no one in sight made you let out a sigh of relief. Either dad was overeating or something bad was happening, and you don’t know which would be worse. When Cec- dad overrated, it always got messy, no matter what it was about.

“Why were you out so long? I was about to send a team after you-”

“Cecil, it’s fine, I just had to talk to my-”

“Don’t call me Cecil, and don’t try to make excuses, tell me who you were with right now or I swear to god-”

You forgot the memory almost as soon as it came up, instead choosing to focus on getting to the brush where you could hide until C- Dad came to pick you up. Wherever he was. Actually, did he give you a time that he would be there?

You got a weird feeling that made you sprint towards the bushes and dive in, like there was someone behind you. You ignored it and forced your way on all fours, ignoring the cuts and scratches you were getting on your arms and legs.

There was almost a whooshing sound above you, and you wondered if your dad sent a fucking jet to get you. But that thought left your mind when you heard it right next to you, along with the sound of someone making a harsh landing onto the street. You were able to hear the little bits and pieces of concrete fly off the ground to hit the ground again.

You stayed completely still, leaning on your arms while your body was facing the street. You heard something shuffle, like moving fabric around, before a familiar voice hit your ears.

“Who’s there?” they- he said, and you were about to cry out of relief when you heard it. “Omni-Man?”

~~~~~

“Cecil, why do you think Nolan would go after ________?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Cecil didn’t look at Debbie, instead focusing on the map in front of him, wondering where Mark could’ve been.

“What reason would he have to go after them? I just- he wouldn’t just attack a child, would he?”

Cecil felt his head start to hurt. Goddamnit, why did Nolan want to go after you? You had nothing to do with anything, besides being Cecil’s daughter. … is that why he was after you? Just because you were related to Cecil?

No, Nolan wasn’t stupid. He knew you weren’t his biological daughter, Nolan knew Cecil took you from somewhere.

He probably thought you were just someone that he got for fun, which was the furthest from the truth. Cecil didn’t-

“Sir, we’ve found Mark Grayson, along with your daughter, not at the same locations, but-”

“Where is she?” Cecil didn’t try to hide his worry in his voice. It didn’t exactly help when the agent said, in a monotone voice, “She's with Omni-Man, sir.”

~~~~~

“________? What are you doing here?”

Peeking out from the bush, you saw Omni-Man walk up towards you and hold out his hand. You graciously took it, and helped yourself up. Even when you were standing at your full height, Omni-Man was way taller than you. Like, way taller. He could beat your dad within an inch of his life even with all of that combat stuff he learned over the years.

Of course he could, he’s Omni-Man dumbass. Ignoring the thought, you answered, “I’m, uh, busy.”

You saw him give a small smile. “You’re busy hiding in the bushes?”

“Yes.” you cursed internally for answering that so quickly like an idiot. You weren’t expecting him to let out a laugh. He continued while you stood there, confused as all hell.

Finally, he said, “You know, you’re a terrible liar.” You laughed along with him for a moment, before saying, “Yeah, I know.”

His face suddenly darkened, before he said, “So, why are you out here?”

The laughter in the air was gone now, only replaced by crushing silence as he waited for your answer. You felt yourself shrink under his scrutinizing gaze. He looked like he was judging you for just standing there. Well, he could’ve also been judging you because you were in a bush just 10 seconds earlier. After a few more seconds, you broke.

“C- Dad said to hide somewhere.”

“Aren’t you too old to be playing those games?”

“Yeah, I am, but apparently someone was gonna come and get me. He just said to get out of open space.”

You heard him mutter something under his breath, before he scratched the back of his head.

“Well, I can see why he would want that.”

“Really? Why?”

“A mob boss named Machine Head.” When you gave him a confused look, he elaborated, “Machine head was a guy who took down the new Guardians of the Globe along with… Mark. They thought they got him, but unfortunately they weren’t able to kill him.”

“How does that have anything with me?”

“... You’re Cecil’s daughter. Cecil was the one who found out about Machine Head. And took him down. Machine Head wants revenge against Cecil for ruining his plans, so he’s probably going to take it out on you.” When you still gave a surprised stare, he asked, “Do you really not have this happen often?”

“No, Dad keeps me inside alot…” your voice trailed off when you heard your phone ring, and picking it up, you saw it was your dad.

“Hello?”

“_________, I told you to get to somewhere safe!”

“I-I am! I’m with Nolan!”

“Hey, Cecil, don’t worry, I’m right here.” Nolan’s voice was filled with sarcasm, probably an old joke between the two. After all, they were both good friends to each other.

“No, you don’t understand, ______, listen to me-”

Suddenly you were grabbed by your arm, and dragged down. You were caught by Omni-Man before you hit the ground, though. Looking behind him, you saw two trucks coming towards you, along with multiple people in them, with weapons of all sorts.

You didn’t have time to ask who they were or what they wanted, as Omni-Man grabbed you and pulled out off the ground, and into the air. It took you a few moments, but you realized you were in the air. Flying.

Reaching for your phone in your pocket to call your dad back, you realized you must’ve dropped it. However, you weren’t about to waste your energy trying to get it back. Especially not when you were high above the ground. So you simply hung on for dear life as Omni-Man flew away from the shouting people in the cars.

~~~~~

“Where is she?”

“She went with Omni-Man, sir.”

Cecil stood there for a moment, wondering what the fuck happened. It was obvious now that Nolan had no intentions to harm you, but why would he take you and not tell you anything? Cecil wondered before something was handed to him. “We found this near where they took off, sir.”

It was your phone. Completely crushed to bits. “Omni-Man took it from her and crushed it without her knowledge, sir.”

“You started to shoot at her?! What the hell were you thinking!?”

The men stood there, completely still realizing their mistake. “We’re not kids playing at some game, this is real life. And now- I-” he really wanted to kill Nolan now. Debbie was going to become a widow, and he really didn’t care.

Walking up to the truck that was nearest to him, he opened the back and shuffled around, trying to find something, anything that would be of use.

Then he found his favorite gun. The only one he could actually hold himself without another person that stopped Omni-man.

Loading the ammunition, he walked over to Donald, who had a tablet in his hand. “Sir, we’ve found where they’re going.”

Looking at the area on the map, Cecil tapped his wrist watch, and said, “Good. Get the backup ready, and get Mark Grayson. Get Invincible.”

[redrobin-detective]

all is well

Death is nothing at all, I have only slipped into the next room I am I and you are you Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. ~ Henry Scott Hollard

AO3 link

______________

He hadn’t meant to say it, that much was clear. As much as she wanted to hate him for it, claim it was some sort of cruel manipulation; she knew he was just as distressed as she was. The ghost boy had covered his mouth, bright green eyes wide with panic as his misspoken words brought their battle to a screeching halt. Even the ghost the three hunters had been fighting stopped and stared before flying off. No one moved to stop them. Phantom looked at her fearfully, then over at her companion before vanishing without a trace.

It was a slip of the tongue, an accident, so why did the ghost boy calling her Mom make her blood run so cold?

“I’ve knew a kid who called the teacher Mom one time but I’ve never heard it from a ghost,” the Red Huntress said with a sarcastic chuckle. But her shoulders were tense and it was clear the situation made her uncomfortable too. “You okay, Mrs. Fenton?”

“My son isn’t dead,” Maddie said quietly. She would admit there were times where she’d look at Phantom and see Danny overlaid on top of him but those moments were becoming more and more rare. Maddie liked to think it’s because she could find more differences than similarities between the two but honestly, she couldn’t say who her son was anymore. She saw this damned ghost more than she saw the child living in her own house.

“I know, I’ve seen him around,” Huntress said with steady conviction. It made Maddie pause, as it always did, to wonder just how old Amity’s other human ghost hunter really was. Or how young rather. “It was a mistake, he’ll probably avoid you for a bit out of embarrassment but then things will go back to normal.”

“Yeah, a mistake,” Maddie muttered to herself, finally lowering the gun even though the fighting had ended several minutes ago. Why was this whole thing so unsettling to her? Phantom had said much worse things to her, called her a fake scientist and more obsessive than a ghost. He’d even called her a bad mother once when he’d been particularly riled up. She remembered how offended and angry his unnatural eyes had been as they’d glared accusingly into her.  

“You know his parents are still alive,” Huntress said suddenly. “I found out by accident a little while ago.” She was still standing on her hoverboard about 3 feet off the ground, her gaze was trained away from Maddie. “They don’t know that he’s a ghost, that he’s Phantom,” the girl’s head was still turned away from Maddie but she had a feeling she was being watched none the less. “Maybe you remind him of his mother.”

Maddie felt liked she’d been slapped.

“And why does that matter to you?” she questioned defensively to cover how much the conversation was shaking her - they didn’t know how could they not know, how could they not miss - “I thought you hated him as much as we did.”

“I don’t like him,” the Huntress said vehemently. “He’s annoying and acts like he’s the only hunter in this town who can actually do the job. But I,” she paused, “I think I understand him, just a little bit. Enough that I’ve been combing through Amity’s missing children files in my spare time. Of course, it’s no good if no one reported him missing in the first place. Phantom doesn’t want me prying but it’s not right for a kid to die and no one to care.”

“He’s just a ghost,” Maddie said, her words weak even to her ears. Was that why Phantom was stuck here? Because he died forgotten and unmourned? The thought of one of her children, her babies, dying without her knowing... she was going to be sick.

“Yeah, he is,” Huntress nodded, “but he wasn’t always. And humans deserve to be remembered, even if they don’t want to be.” That said, the girl sped off into the setting sun, the varying shades of orange glinting off of her suit. Maddie stood in the middle of the street for a little while longer, gun pointed limply at the ground as her whole world spun.

She drove home slowly, taking the long way around to try and put her conflicting feelings into words before she talked to her husband. When she and Jack first began their research into ghosts, they told themselves that they had to divorce themselves from the people the ghosts had been before. If you focused on the lingering traces of humanity in every monster then they would never be put in their place. But she was human and she had kids around the ghost boy’s age, despite her attempts to stick to logic her heart ached with sympathy.

“And you call yourself a mother,” the Phantom in her memory spat at her, filled with hatred but underneath it all was grief. “Where are your kids now? All you care about is the dead but when are you going to care for the living?” Maddie tightened her grip on the steering wheel to keep her hands from shaking.

“Mads! You’re home!” Jack grinned enthusiastically as she quietly entered the house. “Jazzy has her nose in her books and you know Danny, in and up to his room without a word so I made us grilled cheese!” He held her a plate with a flourish, “they’re ghost shaped!” The world tilted itself a little more onto it’s proper axis, no matter how crazy things got, Jack would always be her true north.

“Gracias,” she said accepting the plate. “Can we talk, privately?” She gestured her head down to the basement. Conversations from the kitchen could easily be heard upstairs and she really didn’t want her children to overhear her asking if she was a bad mom. She didn’t want their confirmation that she was right.

Jack’s goofy grinned smoothed out into something softer and he put one hand gently on her back as they walked down to basement. He kicked her usual stool her way and they sat in silence while they ate their dinners, staring at the swirling vortex of the portal.

“You remember that time Phantom called me a neglectful mother?” Maddie asked quietly after a few minutes.

“Mads, you can’t let that sneaky spook get to you. Everyone knows you’re a great-”

“Jack,” she interrupted harsher than she needed to but she didn’t need comfort from a husband but the unbiased opinion of a fellow scientist. “He accidentally called me Mom while we were fighting today, I don’t - I don’t think he meant it, he looked more scared then I’ve ever seen him before he ran off. Huntress was there too, she said.” Maddie gripped her plate tightly in her hands. “She said that Phantom’s family is still alive, that they don’t know about him.”

“Not know? You mean about him being-”

“Apparently,” Maddie squeezed her eyes shut to fight off the unwanted sympathy she felt. “He’s always been the Ghost Boy, the Ghost Kid. I never - I never fully absorbed what that meant. He looks,” Maddie set the plate aside and dropped her head into her hands. “He’s about Danny’s age.”

“Maddie,” Jack said softly, setting aside his own plate and wheeling himself closer. “Whoever that boy was, he’s gone now and all that’s left is an echo, an obnoxious and powerful echo but he’s not... he’s not a child. Not anymore.”

“But he remembers,” Maddie gasped, angry she was letting herself get all worked up over a stupid ghost. “He called me Mom, Jack. Huntress, she said maybe I reminded him of her and,” her eyes filled with tears now. “He’s comparing me to someone who didn’t even notice that he’d died. What does that say about me? About my relationship with our children? I feel like all I do is argue with Jazz these days and god knows where Danny goes to half the time-”

“Maddie, don’t do that to yourself,” Jack said softly, tilting her face up towards him with a gloved hand. “Once you go down that rabbit hole, there’s no digging yourself out. I think it’s just part of being a parent, always worrying that you’re not doing things right. Sometimes,” Jack gaze dropped, troubled. “Sometimes I enter the room and Danny looks at me and freezes like he expects me to do something terrible... He’s just easily startled but it still hurts.”

“Phantom is an echo, not a child,” Maddie nodded quietly to herself, trying to fall back on her usual logic but it tasted wrong in her mouth. He was a ghost... but also a child. “I wonder what he was like when he was alive? His personality seems remarkably preserved, he must have been a vibrant young man.”

“Or his death was particularly traumatic,” Jack mumbled. “Painful deaths usually leave powerful ghosts. And most healthy teens don’t just drop dead for nothing.”  A chill fell over the lab.

“How could they not notice?” Maddie whispered with horror. “What sort of parent wouldn’t see that their child was dead, what? Now two years in?”

“Not everyone is as good a mom as you are, Mads,” Jack said, pulling her into his chest. “Neglectful parents are a dime a dozen sadly. He could’ve been a runaway too, ran off and died leaving his folks still holding out hope that he’d come home. Or maybe...” he frowned, “maybe he’s pretending he’s still alive.”

“No, he couldn’t keep the charade for this long,” Maddie gasped but the horrible idea had been planted none the less. Phantom always seemed in such a hurry, like he had somewhere else to be. Was another woman tapping her feet as she waited for her boy to return like Maddie often did, not knowing her child was long gone?

“He’s a wily one, incredibly solid for a spirit. Sometimes I look at him and swear I see his chest moving like he’s breathing. Dampen his glow, dye the hair, change his clothes, he could probably pass as human so long as you didn’t look too close.”

“Jack,” she pulled back and looked at her husband in a panic. “Jack, if he’s pretending to be human when he’s not fighting then there’s a good chance he goes to Casper.” Her and Jack’s eyes widened with realization at the same time.

Their children’s high school has had an unprecedented amount of ghost attacks since the portal opened. They could never figure out why the ghosts targeted that school and ignored the other elementary, middle or even the other public high, Wendy. “What are we going to do, should we pull out Danny and Jazz? Even just until we figure this out.”

“That might tip the ghost off,” Jack said evenly but his teeth were biting into his cheek with worry. “We don’t want to set him off, who knows what he’d do if his cover was blown.” He might look like a harmless teen but Maddie had seen first hand how devastating Phantom could be when threatened. “I think we should tell the kids.”

“What? Why? You know they’re supportive of him!” Well Jazz certainly was, differing opinion on Phantom seemed to be the cause of half their arguments. Danny, truthfully, she didn’t really know his opinions on the ghost boy. He always looked so uncomfortable talking about ghosts with them so they just didn’t.

“Supportive maybe but they’re smart and observant,” Jack countered. “They could be our eyes and ears inside the school. They know better than to provoke a dangerous ghost,” Jack let his eyes drift over to the portal. “Besides, if the worst comes to pass, I want them to be prepared.”

“I don’t like it but you’re probably right,” Maddie grumbled. “If it keeps them safe then I’d do just about anything.” Jack smiled and leaned forward to kiss her gently, his lips a perfect match for her own.

“And this is why you could never be a bad mother,” he said. “Come on, let’s talk to them before they go to sleep.”

“Or Danny sneaks out again,” Maddie said to herself as she followed her husband up the stairs and heard him call for a Fenton family meeting.

It went about as well as Maddie had expected. Jazz alternated between being angry and anxious, telling them emphatically that Phantom wasn’t hiding among them at school and wasn’t a bad ghost to begin with. Maddie didn’t know what had come over her but she hardly recognized this irrational and emotional young lady as her daughter. She hoped it was just Senior year stress and hormones and not some ghostly influenced. Danny, as usual, sat there like he was a piece of the furniture and didn’t say much at all.

“Danno,” Jack said gently as he interrupted Jazz’s rant to engage their youngest. “You would tell us if you noticed anything unusual with one of your classmates, right? You know we’re telling you kids this because we trust you, love you and want to keep you safe.”

“Have you considered that keeping guns around the house, threatening to hunt and torture ghosts doesn’t make me feel very safe?” Danny said quietly, looking down at the table. “So what if he sometimes goes to school, maybe he wants to have something normal in his life. All I know is that if I was Phantom, maybe I would want to hide too. So people like you didn’t find me.” For the second time that night, the words of a teenage boy stopped her cold.

“Danny, what do you-” Danny didn’t elaborate and instead pushed his chair back and headed towards the door.

“Young Man, where are you going? It’s almost curfew and we’re not done here,” Maddie scolded even though she knew that neither her or Jack were in the control of the situation. Danny opened the door and didn’t look back.

“I won’t be long, just a lap around the block. I just, I just need some air, okay?” The house became quiet, no one quite knowing what to say. Jazz excused herself a moment later and walked back up to her room. She slammed her door shut. The ticking of the clock was the only sound to be heard in the suddenly silent kitchen.

“Is that how he sees us?” Jack asked quietly, looking down at his large hands. “Danny used to think what we did was so cool, when did that change?” When did he change? was the silent, unasked question. Or maybe they'd all changed, grown apart so slowly that no one had really noticed. Maddie stood up abruptly and stalked towards the door, strapping an ectogun to her hip as she went.

“Mads, maybe you should give him-”

“You know as well as I do that this is the peak time for ghosts. Danny, he might not trust us but I won’t let a disagreement get him killed.” It was full dark outside and she was halfway down the block before she realized she didn’t know which direction Danny had gone in. The night air was chill for mid-April as it shook off the last dregs of winter. She was feeling cold in her protective hazmat; Danny had left in short sleeves. Maybe she should run back and get his jacket for when she found him.

“Nice night for a walk,” Maddie jumped at the voice to find Phantom lazily floating in the air above her. His posture was casual but his eyes were sharp, searching as he always was. Green eyes glanced at her gun before meeting her eyes. “Looking for someone? Perhaps chasing someone who doesn’t want to found?” No way was she going to let him know her son was out here, alone and vulnerable.

“You actually,” she lied. He raised a disbelieving eyebrow but didn’t call her out. How could he be so expressive and so hard to read all at once? Against her better judgement, she thought again about the ghost as a human. “You called me Mom earlier, I want to know why.”

“What, you’ve never called someone something dumb by mistake?” Phantom flinched, crossing his arms defensively. “It was an accident, I’m just as upset as you are, believe me. Now if you don’t mind, I was trying to have a nice flight to clear my mind. Good luck finding whoever you were really looking for.”

“My husband thinks you’re pretending to be alive, that you’re lying to the town, going to school.” She searched his face for some sign that she was wrong but his expression was still as stone. “You’re putting people in jeopardy, I thought you wanted to play the hero!”

“I’m not doing anything,” He growled, his eyes flashing ominously in the dark. “I’m just doing the best I can, okay? If I go to the Nasty Burger or sit in on English Poetry when there’s no ghosts to fight then who’s hurt? Only me for trying to hang onto something real, something normal!”

“But the ghosts-”

“News flash! The ghosts would be here with or without me because of your stupid portal! I can’t even legally drive and yet you blame me for everything.” He scoffed and looked away, “you really are just like my mother.”

“So I do remind you of her,” she stated. “Your mother.”

“That’s a great thing to say to some kid you shoot at regularly,” Phantom said, icily, his green gaze boring into her over his shoulder. “What do you want me to say? Yeah, you do. It’s not just your voice or your face but the way you look at me like I’m nothing but a disappointment. How you make me feel like I’m some damaged child you need to hammer into shape.”

“You can’t - I’m not disappointed,” she said before she could think otherwise because how else could she react to such a charged statement? What kind of abusive, miserable home had he come from? Her heart clenched again to be compared to this woman.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Phantom snapped at her sarcastically but, like the time when he’d called her a bad mother, underneath the anger was sadness. “None of this matters, we’re both going to keep doing our own thing without each other’s approval. We’re enemies so let’s just forget this all happened and go back to you shooting at me while I beg for you just stop and listen for one second-”

“Alright, I’m listening!” Maddie shouted back, frustrated and sympathetic against her better judgement. “What is it you want to tell me so bad?” Phantom froze, like he hadn’t expected her to just stop like that. His shoulders hunched and his eyes were wide and he looked so much like a lost teenager that it pulled painfully at her heart. God, why did this one ghost bring out so many contradictory feelings in her?

“I want,” he stopped, swallowed and floated to the ground so they were near eye level. Sometime in the last year, he’d gotten taller than her. She hadn’t realized ghosts could grow, could age. Phantom was always the exception to every rule they had. “I want the same thing you want. I don’t like seeing ghosts coming through and hurting people. Before I was Phantom, I was nobody, I couldn’t help anyone. I can now and keeping people safe, it gives me a purpose I didn’t even have when I was human. Ghosts might just be the untethered remnants of dead people but we still love and feel and value things, just differently than you do. I want to keep ghosts from attacking people but without damaging them, we’re not all evil just... trying to find our own way to the finish line. If you’d just, not attack on sight, I could show you.”

It was perhaps the most she’d heard Phantom say all at once. He was rubbing his gloved fingers anxiously against his thigh and there was a desperate bit of want in his tragically young face. He wanted her to believe him, like a child looking to their mother for approval. As more time stretched on without her speaking, his hopeful look fell into a kind of sad acceptance. He looked like Danny had at the kitchen table not 15 minutes before.

“Okay,” she said finally. “We can give it a try for a bit. It’s not a truce exactly but so long as you’re not causing harm, Jack and I won’t shoot at you.” It wasn’t much but the boy looked like he’d handed her the moon and then some. He floated up a little, his boots jittered with excitement. She gaped when he reached forward and grasped her hand only to shake it enthusiastically. His hand was chilled but solid in her own.

“Yeah, you got a deal! Don’t worry, Mo- Ma’am you won’t have to worry about me, I’ll be a good little ghost, scouts honor! not that I was, uh, ever in the scouts. If things go well, I’d be happy to tell you more about ghosts and the Zone. I’ll even give you a tour if you’d like.” His smile was infectious and she bit her lip to resist the natural urge to smile back.

Maybe Phantom was a ghost, a sad child who’d died far too young but he was also someone’s son. That woman, however, hadn’t been able to protect him, to support him. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give the ghost boy a chance and maybe Maddie could fill in something his other mother couldn’t. Perhaps she could even learn how to give her own children what they needed too.

“We’ll see,” Maddie hummed. “Now, you were going to go flying and I need to find my son before he catches his death, that is, if he’ll even talk to me.”

“He will,” Phantom said softly. “My mom messed up, hurt me sometimes but I knew she loved me and I love her. I don’t know your son but I do know what it’s like to be a son and your mom is... whether you’re living, dead or in-between, she’s always your mom. Maybe he’s worried you won’t love him, the things he’s done or believes in.” He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, “Of course, I don’t really know you and your family. Usually try and avoid you guys, being ghost hunters and all. Even your daughter is pretty scary.”

“That would be pretty weird, a ghost surrounded by hunters,” her lips twitched upwards despite herself as she imagined Phantom chatting with Jack and Jazz in the living room. The image wasn’t quite as strange as she’d initially thought. Who knows where this shaky truce would lead them? Phantom took that as his excuse to leave and flew off into the night. Maddie watched him go, she started up the block when she got a series of texts a few minutes later.

Danny: I’m home, sorry for running off like that Danny: I don’t like the way you talk about ghosts the way some people talk about race or gender. I want to make opinions based on facts and understanding, not half baked theories Danny: I’d be willing to talk more, if you’d stop being so stubbornly certain you’re right and just listened for a change Danny: I love you, Mom I don’t think I say that enough. Sometimes I feel scared to, like you won’t understand Danny: Jazz came down and Dad brought out the special fudge Danny: Come home, its cold out

Maddie brought her phone to her lips, looking up in the sky as if she might see Phantom still flying around. That boy still loved his mother, the mother who’d hurt him. She didn’t want to be like Phantom’s mom: distant, cruel, unwilling to listen. If she could hold out an olive branch for her enemy, then she certainly could for her son.

Mom: I love you too, baby, never doubt that. I think I'm ready to listen now. Mom: I’m on my way home, save some fudge for me.

I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, Just around the corner. All is well.

[httpsaiki]

Congrats on 300 love! I don’t think I’ve requested something yet from you even though I love your writing! Anyway, could I request a fic where Teruhashi and the (fem)reader are dating(usually I don’t mind what pronouns the reader has but for this one it’s kinda relevant. But you can make it gender neutral if you want)? So the two have been dating for a few months. The reason Teruhashi entered this relationship wasn’t because of “love” but because she wanted to get her fans off her back and what better was to do that than enetering a relationship with another girl. She this that it may help get her male fans off her and at first it’s great. Then the reader starts to see the relationship declining. At first Teruhashi was sweet and kind but now she is kind of rude to the reader, saying things like how she is embarrassing her or that if Teruhashi is so perfect why isn’t her s/o capable of being that way too. Mean ik (I don’t like Teruhashi if you couldn’t tell), the reader is also dealing with comments from her fans saying that the relationship is a charity case and such so she is feeling horrible in the relationship. A fight happens between the two and mean stuff is said. They break up and the reader isn’t taking it well. Not because she is upset she isn’t in the relationship cause she is happy to be out but because of the backlash from fans. Seeing this either Kuboyasu (jabjshsk I love him sm) or Saiki (love him too) comfort her and they begin to hang out more till they start to date. The two are now in a healthy and loving relationship and the reader gets to see what that feels like and how that wasn’t what she had with Teruhashi... I really just write this whole fic out lmao. I was going to write it but I’m simply lazy and I wanted to request something from you. As always ignore this or change anything if you don’t like it an take your time please don’t rush or stress yourself out. Ily hun❤️❤️

Hi!! Thank you so much <3! I wanted to say that I adore this request and honestly was ready to drop everything to write it, what an amazing idea you have here! I’m worried I focused a little too much on the Teruhashi part but, man, I’m a sucker for angst so it was a lot of fun. I think I may have gone a little overboard, as I don’t think I’ve written something this long before. I’m sorry if it’s wrong or not quite what you wanted. Thank you so so much for this request, I love it!

Small edit: I forgot to add I picked Saiki for this, as I think I write him a bit better than Kuboyasu!

— Reader is female! Warnings for slight angst, break up, fighting.

WC: 3041

Italics are Saiki “speaking” telepathically.

Teruhashi is the perfect pretty girl, on the outside at least. —————————————————–

“So, what I’m trying to say is… Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” Teruhashi asked on the rooftop one fateful evening after school. She looked as gorgeous as ever, trying to hide her slightly blushing face as she avoided your eyes. The wind was blowing gently through her hair, causing it to sway ever so slightly to one side. The sun was setting behind her, giving her an even more angelic glow to her appearance. You said yes, of course, how could you not? It was magical, especially when it was from the world’s prettiest girl. There was no way you could reject her.

The perfect couple. That’s how it appeared to be. For some time, that’s even how it was.

Teruhashi Kokomi. Your stunning, admirable, and perfect girlfriend. She’s amazing. A few months ago when she asked you to be her girlfriend you were exhilarated. The thought of dating what many considered to be the perfect girl was a chance you knew you just couldn’t pass up. All the time spent with her felt like cloud nine, she made sure you were happy no matter what, and of course, you tried to do the same for her. Her reputation truly held up, even in private.

Over those months, it amazed you what a wonderful girlfriend she was, having seemingly endless affection and love for you. It felt like she was more in tune with your emotions than you’d ever been. She was always ready to listen to your problems, whether you just wanted to vent or needed solutions. She was such a giver in the relationship that you even felt a little bad about it.

She knew that, but she’d never tell you. Not yet, anyway.

So many precious memories flashed through your mind as you thought about her. From getting ice cream on hot summer days to study dates amid a cold, snowy winter (where there wasn’t as much studying as there was cuddling). All the late nights you had spent with her, talking about everything and yet nothing. Video calls at the bright and early hours of the mornings just so she could get your opinion on what she should wear for the day. Every little thing you did together seemed as perfect as Teruhashi herself.

So where had it all gone wrong?

The relationship seemed like it was going great. What happened? What had you done wrong? Recently, Teruhashi had been acting anything but herself. She’s been aggressive, rude, and not interested in anything to do with your relationship at all. She’d avoid you, ignore your calls and texts. When she did see you, she’d throw insult after insult your way, blaming you for problems that were far from in your control, ones that her in her life, not yours. But that wasn’t even the half of it.

What made it even worse? That was only in private. In public, whenever she was with you (or without) she put on her little show of being Miss Perfect. You don’t know how you didn’t see through it before, looking back it was so obvious how fake it was. While in public you were sometimes able to convince yourself she still loved you, clinging onto a desperate hope that things weren’t nearly as bad as reality would tell you. Maybe she was just having a rough time? Her life must be hard, with the constant stalking and fans harassing her along with the need to keep everything in her life completely in order. She must just be tired of it and need somewhere to vent her anger. You didn’t mind being that person, but just not like this. You couldn’t always expect her to be perfect, and you hadn’t. You did your best to make it clear to her from the start that you didn’t need her to be perfect all the time and that you’d be there no matter what. If she wanted to relax in private with you, she was more than welcome to. She never did.

You had it rough, too. Her fan club was constantly harassing you as well. They called you names worse than she did, and had gone to extreme lengths just to get you to break up with her. They stole your things, drew on your desk, and were all-around horrible towards you. They claimed the only reason Teruhashi was dating someone like you was that she pities you, Teruhashi could do so much better. Deep down, you knew that may be the case, but she still asked you out for a reason, right? You never once complained about it, nor told Teruhashi. It would be okay in the end, and being with her was worth it.

Looking back, the red flags were there from the start. It would’ve been better if you caved to the fan club’s wishes from the beginning.

Your arguments seemed to only get worse with time. Insults being thrown your way more than once a day. During a particularly bad argument, she expressed how she felt she was the only one keeping the relationship alive, the only one that truly cared. For the first time, you fought back.

“How could you say such a thing! I do my best for you, I’m sorry we can’t all be Miss Perfect! I try so hard and yet it’s never good enough, is it?” You yelled in frustration, your voice was a lot louder and far more powerful than you intended. Teruhashi was visibly taken aback, despite her constant berating, you had never once raised your voice at her. She paused for a moment, clearly to think. You could easily tell just what she was thinking about.

You had no idea she’d been keeping track of everything you told her. Well, you did, but you never imagined your insecurities would be used against you in the way Teruhashi has been. Screaming them, bringing them up to your face, and forcing you to face them without warning. Using them to insult you, making them worse, and letting them dig deeper into the back of your mind. 

Her face contorted in anger, even angrier than before. Listing things “wrong” with you as if her life depended on it, Teruhashi began her angry ranting. She wanted to get it across to you that she’s perfect and you’re far from that. She listed everything you’d ever done that irked her, every annoying thing you’ve said, and every problem you’ve ever told her about. She mocked emotions you’d told her in confidence and confessed that she always found them dramatic and ridiculous. She expressed how embarrassing it was to be seen in public with you, how she should only be seen with people on the same level as herself. If that wasn’t enough, she dealt one last finishing blow.

“I never loved you anyway.”

She turned and she left, slamming the door to your house shut behind her.

Your mind went blank and you barely noticed your knees hitting the floor as you collapsed to the ground. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt the tears soaking into your shirt. You couldn’t see nor hear, everything around you felt numb and dark. Did she really mean all of that? There was no way you were that bad of a girlfriend to her. 

Why did you still not want to break up?

Days passed and you still hadn’t left your bedroom, let alone your house. Your phone was blown up with texts from your friends, asking if you were sick. You learned from glancing at a few of the messages that Teruhashi had told them that. Reading her name hurt, it made you feel ill as you remembered what had happened a mere few days ago.

Your phone dinged once again. You reached out and grabbed it with a weak grasp, not having the energy to do more than the bare minimum. The name on your screen made a wave of nausea come over you, the content of the message not helping either.

From: Kokomi♡

I’m coming over.

You really needed to change that contact name. That wasn’t what was important, though. Why was she coming here? What else could she possibly need from you, and what on earth else could you possibly offer? You didn’t have much time to think about it, you needed to appear at least somewhat put together by the time she got here.

Your hair was just finished drying as you pulled on clean clothes. You made sure the entrance and living room areas of your house were clean, along with the kitchen. The knock at the door sounded so familiar, Teruhashi always knocked the same way. It sent chills down your spine. Pulling on the best neutral face you could muster and forcing your legs to move, you opened the door.

She looked different. There was no glow to her anymore. She’d never looked less like an angel in your eyes. Even compared to when she’d been yelling at you. It was jarring, almost like she’s a total stranger. It’ll make talking to her easier, you mused.

You wordlessly invited her in, stepping aside as she avoided eye contact and made her way to sit in the living room. Even once you were sat in front of her, she still wouldn’t look at you. You couldn’t tell if that was because she felt shame or disgust. You just hoped it wasn’t the latter.

“What do you need?” You started the conversation, keeping your voice as steady as you could muster. You were quite impressed with how well you were doing.

“We need to break up.” She stated, still not looking up. You rolled your eyes.

“As if I’d stay with you after that.” You spit out, trying to keep your words from sounding too venomous. A moment of silence, you could feel your heartbeat quicken in your chest. The nerves were starting to get to you and one of you needed to say something before the panic could set in. Luckily, Teruhashi did.

“They were right, you know - the fan club?” She said quietly.

“What?” You were surprised, she knew about that?

“It was like a charity case. I only dated you to get them off my back. Didn’t work though. Shame.” Her voice was calm, way too calm to be saying something so harsh. She was fine just ending your relationship like that, no matter what you’d been through together.

“Oh... of course.” She really had never loved you. You were just a tool she could use to escape the mindless drones that claimed to support her. So it all had meant nothing. It was just too good to be true. 

She stood and wordlessly left, walking out of your life for good. Good riddance.

Your pain was only beginning to set in. You couldn’t care less that she broke up with you, you were miserable dating her anyways. No, the hardest part was you would be truly alone now. You knew once word got out that she broke up with you the whole school would blame you. There’s no way their perfect pretty princess could do wrong. It hurt to think about it, you’d probably lose your friends over this. There was one person, though, just maybe one person you could talk to.

Saiki Kusuo. An average looking boy, he didn’t stand out much. You had been friends with him months ago before you dated Teruhashi but she forced you to stop talking to him when you started dating. You never understood why, but she eventually told you that it’s because she used to like him before she got with you and she found it awkward for you to talk to him. You understood. The guilt ate you alive, but you complied. From that day on, you’d never again spoken a word to him.

You could tell just by looking at him he wasn’t like everyone else. He didn’t fawn all over Teruhashi when she entered a room and maybe that’s what drew you to him right now. He’d be the perfect friend, someone that wasn’t obsessed with her. You just hoped he’d forgive you.

“Hey, Saiki?” You asked, shyly walking up to him. He glanced up at you, an uninterested expression plastered on his face. He wasn’t visibly upset by you, but that only made you more nervous. You have no idea what he’s thinking. Realizing he wasn’t going to reply, you continued talking.

“I was just wondering if you’d be willing to have lunch with me. I-I know we haven’t spoken in a while but there are some things I’d like to clear up.”

Saiki knew exactly why you stopped talking to him. He wasn’t going to blame you for that, either. It wasn’t your fault. Sure, he was a little upset about it, you were someone whose presence he actually could tolerate. You were nice to talk to, mainly because you knew when was a good time and when to stop. Traits Saiki greatly admired and appreciated in a person. He might have even liked you a little.

He wasn’t about to let you go. Not as easy as the first time. “Sure.” 

His response was curt and blunt, but you couldn’t help the small smile that graced your features. It was your first genuine smile in months. Maybe the whole world wouldn’t be completely against you.

“Thank you.” You stated simply, turning to sit back in your seat. It seemed like such a meaningless thanks, but Saiki knew there was more behind it than that.

Lunch came quickly enough and before you knew it you were eating under a tree with Saiki. You explained everything that happened over the last couple of months, how awfully you’d been treated behind the scenes. You apologized more than necessary for abandoning Saiki, trying to convey that you didn’t want to, but your ex-girlfriend had somewhat forced you to. 

Saiki was forgiving, and far more understanding than he needed to be about the situation you were in along with the one you found yourself in now. Deep down, he was happy to have you back. Even if you weren’t super close before, he wanted to help you feel better and get over the torturous relationship you had just left.

So Saiki was there for you. The little lunch meets becoming a daily occurrence and he did his best to keep the Teruhashi fan club away from you. Talking to Saiki felt different, it was like he was genuinely listening and cared about what you told him. He was eager to help and aided as much as he could in your recovery.

Weeks passed as the routine kept up. On the weekends you’d meet for dessert and studying. Everything you did with Saiki felt right, it felt safe and healthy. You hadn’t realized how suffocating your old relationship was - even during the good days. 

It wasn’t until Saiki asked you out and you said yes that you truly experienced what being loved felt like. It was late, well after the sun went down. Saiki had snuck into your house, claiming that his parents were being annoying but you knew that was a cover for the fact he missed you. There was no way they were awake these early hours of the morning. He saw your tired face under the dim light that peaked in from your window, as you woke up from his sudden appearance in your bedroom. Saiki felt a small rush. He needed to tell you. Now.

“Y/N” He spoke. 

“Saiki?” The confusion was evident in your voice, “You spoke?” You were clearly tired after being disrupted from your sleep. Never having heard him speak before wasn’t helping with your state.

“Yeah.” He whispered, reaching a hand out to brush the hair out of your eyes, letting it linger on your cheek. It was a little more than platonic, just like the look in his eyes.

“I really like you, Y/N.” He whispered once again, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. 

But you did. Your eyes shot open, blinking a little in surprise. There was no way he just said that, you must be dreaming. There was no way this pink-haired boy that made you feel more than anyone else ever had was standing in your bedroom, at four o’clock in the morning saying he likes you.

You sat up, “You really mean that?” It came out without you intending it to. It probably sounded rude, but you were far beyond the point of being awake enough to care.

“Yeah.” He said, a small chuckle coming out, “I do.”

You didn’t say anything, all you did was slide back on your bed, making room for Saiki and open your arms. He took the hint and made himself comfortable next to you. He let out a small sigh, doubting he’d be able to sleep like this despite his relaxation. He wanted to protect you for as long as he could. He stared at you, probably a little more than he should. Saiki couldn’t help it, his eyes wouldn’t leave your form. You looked like you belonged in his arms, or so he thought. He was having a hard time processing his happiness at your figure in his arms. It had always been you, he was well aware of that now. 

“You still awake?” he asked, going back to his telepathic communication. You mumbled a small yes, prompting him to continue talking. “Thank you,” he started, “for asking me to sit with you at lunch that one day. For coming back to me.”

You let out a tired giggle, “You missed me.”

“I did.” He felt you tense when you said that as if you were shocked to hear it. That didn’t surprise him, he had his doubts you were told you were cared about enough, especially in your last relationship.

Looking down at you once again, he realized you’d fallen asleep. A smile grew on his lips as he made a silent promise to show you what real love feels like. He’d cherish you to the moon and back. It’s what you deserve and he was going to give it to you.

[aomine-ryo]

hi!! could i please request aomine + kise w a super insecure s/o but she doesn’t really say anything about it? but overtime the boys see how closed off she seems w everything ? aaa sorry if this doesn’t make sense

It made sense, don’t worry!! I hope you like this x

Scenario: Kise and Aomine with an insecure s/o

Kise

You loved dating Kise— you really did. As someone who had tendencies to worry about what others thought of you as well as be over-critical on yourself, being with him was quite refreshing. His bubbly personality and constant reassurance definitely helped you gain some self-love that you probably wouldn’t have been able to find without him.

There was one issue though. Kise was a rather popular person, being a model and all. For the first few months of your relationship, you managed to stay hidden by not going out in public with him too often. Of course, the two of you couldn’t always have dates at each other’s houses because there were so many places Kise wanted to take you, so you slowly began to go out together.

It didn’t take long for rumours to go around about your relationship, considering Kise’s popularity as a model was growing quite rapidly at this point. At first, you didn’t mind too much because they were just rumours and no one could confirm nor deny it per say. Furthermore, you felt quite happy knowing that Kise was all yours, and that you were in a relationship where you lifted each other up, so what others said about it wasn’t something you were concerned about.

However, that was until people started sneaking pictures of the two of you in public. You didn’t notice anything as it happened because you were caught up with Kise, but a few hours after you returned home, your social media was plastered with mentions as people tagged you in photos with your boyfriend. Looking at the surge of those photos made you begin to feel overwhelmed. You couldn’t help but read what people had to say about it, even though you knew you’d probably regret it.

At first, you didn’t really see anything too bad. Things like ‘Oh a new couple! How cute’ and ‘They’re adorable together, Kise-kun looks so happy’ seemed to be scattered amongst more surprised and sceptical comments that questioned the validity of the photos. And then you found the hate.

‘Yikes. Why is Kise dating someone like that?’, ‘No offense but Kise can do better’, ‘Did they pay Kise to date them or something? I never imagined him actually dating someone like that lol’ along with many other comments of that sort was soon all you saw. The nicer comments that were sprinkled here and there suddenly lost all its value as the meaner ones were all you seemed to look at.

You switched your phone off and put it aside as you began to feel your throat close up. As your brain began to question your self worth, a few tears managed to escape, even though you were trying so hard not to let it get to you. Maybe they were right? was all you could think about as you slowly but surely beat yourself up about it.

“Y/N-cchi! Are you free after school?” Kise chirped as you met up with him at recess a few days later.

“Probably. Why?”

“Let’s go on a date! There’s this boba café nearby that I think you’d really like,” he said with a smile, cheery as ever.

“I’m not sure. I think I’ll have to pass,” you said softly. You really didn’t want any more online attention than you were already getting.

“Why not?” he pouted.

You looked up at his frowning face and felt a wave of guilt. You made him sad. The comments were right. You don’t deserve him. “I just don’t feel like it,” you shrugged, pinching yourself.

“You’ll feel better when you try their drinks— trust me. It’ll be fun,” Kise said, giving you a smile that never failed to make your heart melt.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded slightly, “Alright I guess we can go then.”

Kise’s face lit up once again as his arms wrapped around you so tight that you felt like you couldn’t even breathe. “Yay, a date with Y/N-cchi!” he sang.

After school, the two of you walked to the cafe together. The weather was quite pleasant, and the bright yellow sun definitely improved your mood ever so slightly. As you walked, Kise took your hand in his like he usually would, but almost instantly, you pulled it away from him, gaining a look of confusion in response.

“What’s wrong, Y/N-cchi?” Kise asked, concerned.

“It’s nothing. My palms are just a bit sweaty, so I don’t think you’d wanna hold my hand,” you lied. You couldn’t help but be on edge in the case that someone was watching you.

“They felt fine to me, don’t worry about that,” Kise said, reaching for your hand once again.

You couldn’t really think of anything else to say to refuse without garnering any questions from him, so you reluctantly let him hold your hand, looking around anxiously. This keeping an eye out lasted for quite some time and Kise seemed to notice that your attention wasn’t fully directed towards him like it normally would be.

“Y/N-cchi, are you really sure everything is okay? You’ve barely even looked at me today,” Kise said as the two of you sipped on your drinks in the cafe.

“I’m fine,” you answered simply, over-correcting your actions by focusing on Kise and pretending everything was okay.

“Really? You seem really nervous,” Kise said.

“Ryouta, I’m fine, don’t worry,” you said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

“If there’s ever anything worrying you, you can tell me,” he said sincerely, placing his hand on top of yours and giving it a tight squeeze. “You know that, right?”

For a moment you really considered telling him what’s been bothering you, but you were afraid. You thought that it was really stupid of yourself to get affected so much by something like this and you didn’t want him to judge you for it— even though you were aware that he’d never do that.

“I know,” you nodded as you leaned back in your seat, filled with uncertainty and regret.

Once again, when you got back home, you were met with even more pictures of you and Kise from your date. You noticed that you had a frown on your face in pretty much all the photos. And of course the comments seemed to notice too.

‘lol his date doesn’teven look like they want to be there’, ‘that person looks annoying, why’s Kise dating someone like that’, ‘if I were with Kise I’d probably pay more attention to him than they are’.

Day by day, the comments increased. Kise’s agency managed to be able to keep the tabloids relatively silent about it. There were small articles here and there, but none of them were all too bad. However, there was no way they could control what was being said on the internet. Kise did call you up to remind you not to be too concerned about what people were saying. In fact, he urged you to do what he does and avoid the comment sections completely. But at that point, it was already too late. Looking at what others said about you online quickly became a daily thing, sending you down a spiral of self-destruction that only got worse.

Slowly, you began to avoid going outside and started making more and more excuses to not go out with Kise. You did still really like spending time with him, but the only time you were truly comfortable was when you were somewhere private with no other people around, and that wasn’t something Kise could do too often because he liked going outside.

He’d invite you to hang out with his friends every so often but you’d always refuse, saying that you were too busy. In all honesty, you hated lying to him but you felt like you had to.

One afternoon, you were laying down in bed after a tiring day of school and scrolling through comments yet again, when you heard the doorbell ring. It was Kise.

“Ryouta? What are you doing here?” you asked with a confused expression. “Don’t you have practice?”

“Yeah but you didn’t come to watch so I got worried,” Kise explained as he stepped into your house. “What happened, Y/N-cchi? You always watch my practice.”

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t feel too well,” you replied, your eyes fixed on the floor.

“What? Are you okay?” Kise asked, in a slightly panicked tone as his hand immediately reached for your forehead to check your temperature. “You seem fine.”

You responded with nothing but silence as you pursed your lips and continued to stare at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Kise leaned down to try and meet your gaze. “Y/N-cchi, what’s really going on? You’ve been really distant lately. Have you gotten tired of me or something?” Kise asked, his usual cheery voice suddenly going all soft.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” you shook your head, surprised that he’d even think of something like that.

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled.

“Y/N-cchi, please tell me what’s going on so that I can help. I really hate seeing you like this. I can’t remember the last time I saw a genuine smile from you, which sucks because I really like your smile,” Kise said as he cupped your face in his hands and tilted your head up to look at him in the eye.

You felt tears well up in your eyes as you thought back to all the things you’ve read about yourself. Kise genuinely cared for you and you told yourself yet again that you really don’t deserve him. “I just don’t feel very confident going out so much with you,” you admitted softly.

“What? Why’s that?” Kise asked, amber eyes filled with concern and worry.

“Because there are people who sneak photos of us and post them online. And the comments are always just so... mean,” you said, your voice breaking as tears began to roll down your cheeks.

“Didn’t I tell you not to look at those? What did they say?”

“T-That I’m not good enough for you, and that I don’t deserve you,” you replied, sobbing like a baby at this point.

“And you’re going to believe what a bunch of random people say about you?” Kise said, which silenced you for a moment as you thought about it. “Listen Y/N-cchi, you’re beautiful and kind and one of the most caring people I’ve ever met. I’m the luckiest person in the world because I get to call you mine. If anything, I don’t deserve you— I mean it. No one could ever make me think that you’re not good enough because in my eyes you’re my everything,” Kise said, voice so soft and tender that it just filled your body with warmth.

“Are you sure?” you asked, unable to process the fact that this boy had so much love for you.

Kise pecked your lips and gave you a smile. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

“I’m sorry for not talking about it to you sooner and acting so aloof,” you said.

“It’s okay. We can take it slow and just spend more time alone, alright?” Kise said as he wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” you sniffled.

“I hope you can see yourself the way I see you someday. You’re really amazing, Y/N-cchi. I love you so goddamn much,” he said, honey eyes full of care and sincerity as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sound of those words that made your heart skip a beat, “I love you too, Ryouta.”

Kise’s face brightened up again as he too began to grin, “There’s that gorgeous smile— I’ve missed it.”

Aomine

Aomine was aware that you had times where you felt insecure every now and then and of course, he did his best to minimise it and check up on you to make sure you were alright. He seemed to be doing a fairly good job as well because your confidence was rather stable for a while.

One of the main reasons he’d always check up on you was because he was really slow on picking up when you did feel insecure. You were the kind of person to sit quietly and deal with your issues by yourself rather than reach out for help so that made it slightly difficult for him sometimes. Along with being slow at noticing, Aomine was often one to take things for granted. So when you seemed to be all happy and confident, he’d slowly begin checking up on you lesser and lesser.

You never realised how much you valued the attention from him though until it began to reduce. You seemed to have become emotionally dependent on Aomine and by the time you realised it, it was a little too late.

Slowly, as days went by, you began to feel more and more unsure about yourself as Aomine got busier. The Winter Cup was just around the corner and he was caught up with practices that he didn’t have as much time to tend to you. Nevertheless, he still went out of his way to call you up or visit you during his free time, though that time was never enough for you to open up about how you felt.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but before you knew it, your mind was clouded with dark thoughts that criticised your appearance and abilities. You’d often stand in front of the mirror and pick yourself apart piece by piece, feeling nothing but hatred towards the person that looked back at you.

You stopped enjoying the things you’d normally enjoy too. Things like art and reading became a burden as every time you’d pick up a pencil, you’d hate every stroke you made, and you couldn’t immerse yourself into books anymore because your mind would only just wander off into thoughts about the things you wanted to escape.

“Hey babe, how are you doing today?” Aomine said when you picked up his phone call one evening.

“I’m okay, are you heading back from practice?” you asked, able to hear a faint sound of footsteps in the background.

“Yep. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” he sighed.

“Didn’t you see me in school today?” You pointed out.

“Barely. Besides, that was hours ago. I miss you,” Aomine said.

“I miss you too,” you replied, hearing his voice somehow put a small smile on your face.

“Can we FaceTime instead? I want to see you,” he requested, which immediately wiped the smile away.

“I don’t think so,” you said, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see you.

“Why not? You can’t just keep that pretty face to yourself, you know. It’s not fair.”

“I look anything but pretty, trust me,” you said, playing it off as a joke even though you actually meant it.

“Oh come on. Please?”

“I said no, Daiki,” you snapped suddenly, shocking both you and Aomine. You definitely didn’t want to put yourself on video, however you didn’t realise how defensive you were about it until that point. But you stood by it.

There was a moment of silence as you took in what just happened before Aomine let out a heavy sigh. “Alright. It’s fine then I guess,” he said. There was definitely a change in his tone after that. What was previously an energetic and happy sound, was now more lukewarm and mellow, and you couldn’t help but feel responsible for it.

And now there was one more thing for you to beat yourself up over.

Aomine finally had a few days off of practice, and of course, the first thing he wanted to do was spend time with you. So he called you up.

“Hey, do you want to go out for a movie or something? I finally have some free time,” Aomine asked you.

“Um, I’m not sure. I don’t think I feel too well,” you said. The last place you wanted to go was outside. You had to walk to the convenience store the other day and you absolutely hated it because you felt like everyone was judging you in some way or the other, even though in reality, no one really looked at you for more than a second.

“Really? Is everything okay? Do you need to go to the doctor?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I guess I’m just not feeling up to it,” you said.

“Then how about we do something tomorrow?” he suggested.

“I don’t know...”

“Y/N, I barely get to see you anymore. Are you sure you’re not avoiding me or something?” Aomine questioned, being more straightforward not to mask his hurt.

“I’m not.”

“Then why don’t you want to spend time with me?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, feeling overwhelmed at the pressure you felt to not make him hate you even more.

“Y/N, that’s not an answer,” he sighed.

You responded with silence as you finally decided to shut yourself up before you made things worse. With one more disappointed sigh, Aomine ended the call. The sound of the ringing finally caused you to break down into tears. You finally reached rock bottom. You chased away the one person who actually cared about you. He probably hates you now too.

Meanwhile, Aomine was striding towards your house after ending the phone call. It may have been a bit cruel to just cut it without saying a goodbye, but the frustration just took over. You weren’t even responding at that point so Aomine just decided to see what was wrong for himself. It took you a while to answer the door, and when you did, there was a forced smile on your tear stained face as you let him in.

“I’m sorry for cutting the call short. What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked.

No response. You just stared at the floor.

Aomine’s hand reached for your cheek, “Hey, were you crying—“

He stopped when you flinched and shifted away before he could lay a finger on you. “I’m fine, it’s nothing,” you said coldly, wrapping your arms around your body and clenching your shirt.

“You won’t even let me touch you. Did I do something wrong?” Aomine asked, trying to think about whether or not he’d done anything to upset you recently. However, nothing added up as he barely saw you— there was no way he could’ve done anything.

You hated every moment of this. All you could think about was how you probably looked awful at that moment. He came so suddenly that you didn’t get a chance to fix yourself. Furthermore, you’d just been crying so you probably looked like a train wreck. He is definitely thinking about how bad I look, you thought. You didn’t want to find out though, so you just avoided all eye contact.

“You’re really not going to even talk to me?” Aomine asked, and as he expected there was yet again no response. He sighed. “Fine then. I’m not leaving your house until you tell me what’s going on.”

You watched as Aomine walked further into your house. He went straight into the kitchen, and you, not knowing what else to do, trailed behind him as he began to check the cabinets.

“I’m starving. Have you eaten lunch yet?” Aomine turned his head to look over at you. You shook your head. “Alright. I’ve been learning how to cook. I’m not guaranteeing a gourmet meal, but it should be edible... hopefully,” he said, beginning to pull out different ingredients.

“I’m not hungry,” you mumbled.

“Did you eat breakfast?”

“No.”

“Yeah I thought so. I’m making us some food,” he said dismissively.

You knew Aomine was stubborn so you didn’t try to argue any more because he’d make it no matter what you say.

You watched him walk up and down the kitchen and do his thing in silence. You really weren’t sure what he was trying to make. There were so many different ingredients that just didn’t make sense, but you just stood and watched.

About half an hour went by without a word from either of you. Aomine began humming a song as he stood over the stove, which strangely made you feel more at ease. As he stirred the pot, he seemed so harmless that you began to finally calm down and build up the courage to tell him.

Almost as if he could read your mind, he finally spoke up, “You ready to say something to me yet?

Another moment of silence passed by as you bit your lip in hesitation. Aomine was just about to let out another disappointed sigh when you muttered, “I’ve just been feeling really insecure lately.”

Hearing your voice caught Aomine off guard for a moment. Even though he was the one who asked you to speak up, a part of him was expecting nothing to happen yet again. He switched off the stove, wiped his hands and turned to face you, leaning against the counter as he did so. “Insecure? About what?”

“I don’t know. I just hate how I look. And everything I do feels so inadequate. Plus I haven’t gotten to see you in a while so I got the feeling that you probably hate me by now. I’m acting like a brat now, after all,” you said, voice soft but the pain was evident.

“I want to start off by saying, I could never hate you. You’re always on my mind Y/N. Why do you think I like to call you so much? Actually, why do you think I came all the way over here? It’s because I care about you,” he said.

You finally looked up at him again. He looked as gorgeous as ever. And this dark blue eyes were gentle and caring. Maybe you were overthinking it.

Aomine took you getting your eyes off the floor as a good sign. So he took a few steps closer to you. “And I get how you feel about the other stuff. I feel like that too sometimes. But honestly, I find you absolutely beautiful. I really don’t know how much weight my words have, but that’s what I think. You’re also so smart and talented, I really just think you need to be a little kinder to yourself,” he continued.

And just like that, the waterworks went for round two. You didn’t know how much you needed to hear those words until right then.

Aomine felt his heart ache at the sight of you in this state. He hesitated for a moment because of what happened when he tried to touch you earlier, but he soon wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tight. Almost immediately, you too wrapped your arms around him and sobbed into his chest, the smell of his cologne making you feel safe at your most vulnerable moment.

“I’m so sorry for being so distant. I’ve been so awful. I should’ve talked to you,” you cried. It was a bit difficult for Aomine to understand what you were saying through the tears but he processed it a few moments later as his fingers brushed through your hair reassuringly.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he said softly as he pulled away and held your shoulders so he could look you in the eye. “I’m just glad you told me.”

You nodded as you tried to stop yourself from crying.

“Here,” Aomine said, as he pulled off the black dog tag necklace he wore and put it around your neck. “It’s not much, but think of it as a reminder that you’re always amazing in my eyes.”

You felt your heart burst as you became teary-eyed again, except this time it was out of gratefulness.

“...is that too lame?” Aomine asked as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly when you didn’t say anything.

You immediately shook your head. “No, it means a lot. I-I love you.”

A smile spread across Aomine’s face. “I love you too, Y/N,” he said. “Alright, I’m gonna finish making our food, okay?”

“Sure,” you nodded as you watched him return to the stove. “But, can I ask what exactly you’re trying to make?”

“Um, ramen?”

You began to giggle, “Babe, I don’t think you should put tomato sauce in ramen.”

“Oh, right... I knew that.”

[p-redux]

Gloating about being an insider during a time of sadness is DISGUSTING

I'm not gloating, I'm posting INFO and FACTS like I always do...and showing restraint and discretion in not posting it sooner, and not posting the details, which I haven’t and won’t.

But you know what IS disgusting? Here’s a LONG list, and by no means, a comprehensive one, of what Extreme Shippers, Former Extreme Shippers, and Assorted Haters have done that is VERY DISGUSTING. I’ll write it stream of consciousness-like and not in order. Put your feet up and grab a tall drink. Here we go...

Click on Keep Reading

Extreme Shippers found Cait’s condo when she used to live in Los Angeles and sat outside for hours waiting to see if they saw her with Sam. ES blackmailed and coerced a minor, a 14 year old girl who was a super fan of Abbie’s sister, Charlotte Salt, into giving them info regarding Abbie and Sam. The girl was following Abbie’s locked Instagram account and could see the Sam related stuff Abbie was posting. ES won her trust, she gave them info about Abbie and Sam, they then told her if she didn’t screencap and give them the Sam related pics on Abbie’s IG account, they would tell Abbie and Charlotte that she had been giving them info. Sick doesn’t begin to describe it. ES tried to dox and did dox anyone and everyone who got in the way of their SamCait ship. Doxed, as in PUBLICLY posted, the names, addresses, pictures of their houses, professions, husbands’ and children’s names, employer names of ANYONE and EVERYONE who posted something to contradict the ship. They even posted pictures of their children. Again, messing with minors is a big no no, and usually a crime. ES created fake Ashley Madison accounts (that’s the website for married people who want to meet people to cheat on their spouses with) and pretended to be non-shippers’ husbands to try to make it seem like the husband was cheating. It got so bad, that in some cases, non-shippers had to get restraining orders, cease and desist orders, get the police, lawyers, and in TWO cases, the F B I involved. Yes, the F B I has come a knocking on a couple of Extreme Shipper’s doors because of their ILLEGAL actions. ES lured some of Sam’s girlfriends into believing they had their best interest at heart, gained their trust, and they PUBLICLY posted their PRIVATE messages. Luckily, in the case of one Sam’s ex, Abbie Salt, she later did confirm she and Sam dated, which totally negated everything that shipper had said Abbie told her.  ES directly BULLIED and HARASSED fans, Outlander cast, crew, journalists, reporters, family and friends of Sam and Cait. ES contacted people’s employers to try to get them fired...literally messed with people’s livelihoods. They tried to get the Outlander drivers fired because they started posting stuff against shippers AFTER shippers turned on them. ES waited outside Sam and Cait’s residences in whatever location they were in to try to “catch them together.” Taking pics at someone’s private residence is very different than getting pics or video in PUBLIC places. For years, ES have manipulated pictures, gifs, video to sell the SamCait LIE to their gullible shipper friends. They’ve made money off selling these lies. ES have ostracized and banished any shipper friends who acknowledged the ship wasn’t real. They sent their best friend to Tony’s bar in London to try to prove he and Cait weren’t together, and when she unwittingly found out they were, they then bullied her and kicked her out of shipperville. ES created multiple hate sock accounts for the SOLE purpose of CYBERBULLYING Sam’s girlfriends and dates. Any time Sam dates a woman, ES follow the same pattern. They contact the women’s employers, parents, siblings, other family members, friends, ex-boyfriends trying to malign the women. Some examples: They pretended to have gone to high school with Mackenzie Mauzy and spread lies that she had a bad reputation in high school. They spread lies that Gia was a paid escort. ES contacted social media outlets to spread LIES about Sam and Cait and their significant others. Contacted anyone associated with Cait and Tony’s wedding trying to intimidate them into saying there was no wedding. They posted the picture of a waiter at one of the Outlander premieres and tried to pass him off as Tony to prove Tony didn’t go with Cait. ES have continuously posted pics of Cait with her naturally poochy belly trying to prove that she’s been pregnant with Sam’s children for the last 7 years. ES publicly questioned her if she was pregnant. Sam haters and disgruntled ex-shippers have spread rumors that Sam is gay. Nothing wrong with being gay, but what is wrong is spreading LIES. ES have badmouthed Cait’s HUSBAND, Tony McGill saying he was: her assistant, gay, her gay assistant, a loser, broke, boring, ugly, her purse holder, etc. And trust me, what I’ve posted above is the SHORT list.

And that’s not even mentioning what they’ve done to ME. Ever since I committed the unforgivable sin of posting source info CONFIRMING Sam and Cait were never a couple, and Cait was dating Tony, way back in 2014, this is what SamCait Extreme Shippers have done to me. Tagged me endlessly when I had my Twitter account telling me things like “Die, b*tch,” “Die, c*nt,” “You should be gang rap*d,” “Drop a house on her,” “You’re worse than AIDS,” and those are the “nice” comments. They literally BULLIED me every day, all day for YEARS. They also created hate accounts on Twitter and Instagram to mock me, parody me, and post lies about me. They were convinced they’d found my real identity (based on circumstantial evidence, which I’ve countered and can counter with the actual truth), and proceeded to post THAT woman’s FULL NAME, city where she lived, profession, reported her to her licensing board, and created a fake Twitter account pretending to be her. She got a lawyer and was able to get everything taken down, but they basically tried to ruin her life. They’ve spread LIES about me being the one harassing THEM and managed to convince over 60 dopes with disposable incomes to give them money for a GoFundMe campaign where they hired a Private Investigator to try to find me. They started a witchhunt letter writing campaign, hashtagged it on Twitter, #takebackourfandom, or some such bullsh*t, tagged everyone in Outlander cast and crew “telling” on me and even sent letters and e-mails to Starz and Sony executives trying to...I don’t know what. Hahahaha. It’s so ridiculous, my brain is scrambling as I write this. They told their followers not to believe anything I say and that I’m evil personified. ALL of that and more because they couldn’t face the FACT that their SamCait ship NEVER EXISTED and I was the one that confirmed it. When I think about it, I can’t believe I lived through all that. But I stayed because I knew I had the TRUTH on my side and that eventually it would all come out, which of course it did. And because I’m a bad bitch who doesn’t scare easily.  EVERYTHING I’m referring to here is well DOCUMENTED with screencap proof. Or just ask anyone who’s been in the fandom long enough, they’ll attest that what I’m saying did actually happen, and that Extreme Shippers, Former Shippers, and Haters did do all of that.

So, Anon, when you come at me with “disgusting” things in this fandom, please refer to the above before you start pointing fingers at me. 

PS. “Anon,” I’ve got your Los Angeles/Anaheim Samsung Galaxy S10e IP address tagged. So, send me another hate Ask and you’ll get blocked. And don’t bother using a VPN...once the tag is on, it follows the user no matter what IP they use. Now you know. 

[the-halloween-jack]

Young!Remus Lupin x Fem!Werewolf! Reader Pt.2

/ Part 1 / 

Summary: Remus receives a letter explaining there is a new werewolf at the school, only he is not sure who it could be. 

WARNINGS: Angst.

Link for GIF: https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/834080793461082533/

Remus POV

It was only a few days before the school year would start again when Remus received a letter from Hogwarts. He eyed the letter with furrowed eyebrows, he had already gotten his letter containing his booklist, why had this been sent? He grabbed the note from the outstretched leg of the school owl. And began to read,

Dear Mr Lupin,

I have recently received a letter informing me that another student of the school has been attacked by a werewolf over the summer holidays. Unfortunately for them to survive they had to undergo the transformation, meaning you will now have company during the full moons. I won’t be informing you who this student is at this moment, as I feel it is in the students best interest to allow them the opportunity for you to be introduced in person. It is with this information that I ask you to keep this knowledge to yourself and overcome the need to inform your friends, after all this will be a private matter between the student, you and myself.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore.

Remus stared at the paper with wide eyes, he wondered who this student could be. What year were they in? Did he know them? Would they get along? Remus couldn’t think of anything worse than the possibility that they would not get along, two vicious werewolves who disliked each other locked in the small confinement of the shrieking shack. He shuddered at the thought. 

He knew Dumbledore had specifically told him not to tell his friends, and in any other situation he would not defy Dumbledore orders, but his friends had already begun preparations to become animagi for him, surely it was common courtesy to tell them there would be another werewolf they would have to watch out for. And you were bound to be scared, maybe they could end up helping you too?

The few days until the return of school passed quickly, it wasn’t long before he found himself standing outside the Hogwarts Express saying goodbye to his parents for the term. He was eager to find his friends, and tell the news he had recently uncovered. He saw James and Sirius standing next to one of the doors of the train, they were in conversation with Peter. Remus made his way over to them waving his arms to get their attention, Sirius spotted him and taped the shoulders of the others, pointing in his direction.

‘Hey, Moony!’ James called out when he had spotted him, Remus gave him a stern look, they knew full well not to use his nickname in public, he didn’t need any more people working out what he was. Once he was well out of everybody’s earshot, he began to talk,

‘Just the people I want to see, I have something to tell you…’ The others gave him a look of curiosity, before Sirius spoke up, eyebrows raised,

‘You haven’t seen us all summer, and this is how you greet us?’ 

‘Never mind that, this is important, though we should wait until we are in one of the compartments before I say anything’ 

With that being said Remus walked on the train, Sirius. James and Peter following closely behind. There were no empty compartments, so instead, they settled for one that had a girl in the corner sitting alone. Remus recognised her as Y/N L/N, a Gryffindor girl in their year. Remus would never admit this, but he had always had a bit of a crush on her, he worked hard to keep it to himself though, he knew if the others found out he would never hear the end of it. And besides, it’s not like they could ever be together anyway, he was a werewolf and she was a pretty girl, she would never want to be with him, not to mention how dangerous it would be for her. James was the first to speak up,

‘Can we sit in here? All the other compartments are full.’ Y/N looked up, there were purple shadows under her eyes; she looked unwell. 

After she nodded, they all piled in finding places to sit, Remus, making sure he sat in the opposite corner than the girl. Where were all her friends? She had always been so popular, why weren’t they with her now? Sirius, James and Peter all looked up at Remus expectantly, he had said there was something he wanted to say.

‘What did you want, Remus?’ Peter had asked quietly,

‘I shouldn't say,’ His eyes flashed towards where Y/N sat, ‘I can show you though, but don’t say anything out loud, I shouldn’t be telling you this’

If Y/N was listening to what they were saying, she was doing a really good job at hiding it, she was acting as though they weren’t there. Remus pulled out the letter he had gotten from the headmaster from his pocket. And handed it to the others to read. Their eyes widened with each word, they seemed just as shocked about the matter as he was. Sirius opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it again after seeing the look on Remus’ face. They continued the rest of the train ride as though nothing had happened, but Remus was sure that they would be questioning him as soon as they made it to their dormitories.

Y/N didn’t talk to them the entire journey to Hogwarts, which was strange, she had always seemed the talkative type. He found himself occasionally looking over at her from the corner of his eyes. She looked as though she had been sick, he could also see the faint lines of fading cuts sticking out from under her long sleeves. What had happened? Remus couldn’t help the feeling of disappointment he felt as he saw her stand up and walk away without a word. They all watched as she disappeared through the doors before James spoke up,

‘That was weird’ 

Remus was right about his friends, they had barely made it to their dormitory when they had begun questioning him.

‘When did you get the letter?’ asked Peter,

‘Who do you think it could be?’ followed James,

‘Why can’t he tell you who it was?’ added Sirius,

‘Firstly, I got this letter a few days ago. And secondly, you read the letter, how could I possibly know who it is?’ Remus was annoyed by their stupid questions,

‘But can’t you just, you know… tell?’ Sirius continued, and Remus’ eyebrows furrowed,

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, can’t you just sniff them out with your wolfy senses?’ 

‘You and I both know that’s not how it works’ Remus rolled his eyes,

They talked about the letter’s contents for the rest of the night, theorising on who it could be. One by one they all fell asleep, but little did they know that the topic of their conversation was sitting in their common room.

Reader POV

When you first arrived on the Hogwarts Express your friends had welcomed you with open arms, it had been evident that Dumbledore had kept his word, no one knew about what had happened to you over the summer. Though you were quick to make excuses, you told them you were not feeling well, that you wanted to be left alone. That was how you found yourself sitting in an empty compartment, you didn’t want to put your friends in danger. Isolating yourself from them would mean they couldn’t get into any trouble by the time of the next full moon. But you had only been in the compartment a few minutes when James Potter and his friends arrived, asking to sit in there with you. You nodded even though you were hoping to be left alone, nothing too bad could happen during the trip to Hogwarts. You tried your best to ignore them, and to your immense relief they did the same to you, only you couldn’t help but notice the quick glances Remus Lupin would send you out the corners of his eyes. You were sure he was just curious, after all, you normally would have been surrounded by your friends, it probably seemed strange that you felt the need to sit alone.

The first weeks back at Hogwarts had been some of the worst you had experienced, you continued to completely isolate yourself from everyone, and even though you knew it was for the best, you couldn’t help but feel lonely. At first, your friends were concerned, they would ask you to sit with them in the Great Hall and during lessons, but as you continued to refuse they eventually stopped asking. It was the same at Gryffindor Tower, you had started to sleep in the squishy armchairs of the common room, you yearned to find yourself sleeping in your warm, welcoming bed in the dormitories, but your friends never failed to pester you with questions, you knew they were only worried about you, but at least the common room was quiet in the early hours of the morning. 

As the new full moon approached you could feel your health deteriorating, you began to eat less and the shadows under your eyes became more prominent. You were finding it harder to concentrate during lessons, and you could never seem to fall asleep.

Before you knew it the night of the full moon had arrived, you kept telling yourself you had nothing to worry about, Dumbledore had said there was another student who was in the same situation and no one knew about them. Earlier in the day, you had been sent to talk to the Headmaster, he explained to you about the shrieking shack and how you would be escorted there by Madam Pomfrey a safe time before nightfall. He had also said that tonight would be the night you would meet the fellow werewolf of Hogwarts.

Remus POV

Remus was escorted to the shrieking shack earlier than usual so as to be there when the new werewolf student arrived. Remus was pacing across the room dreading nightfall as much as he would any other full moon, though he still found himself anticipating the coming hours; the curiosity that had accumulated over the past few weeks was becoming almost unbearable.

His heightened senses were what allowed him to hear the approaching footsteps, his breathing stopped and suddenly the quiet patter of two pairs of feet was all Remus could focus on. The first was familiar, the graceful steps of the school nurse, Madam Pomfrey. Though the later were quieter, soft and almost hesitant. Remus was able to deduce that the new wolf was in fact a girl. 

As the footsteps grew closer Remus began to feel nervous and sick, what if they didn’t get along? What if they hurt each other? Though he didn’t have a long to ponder over this as before he knew it the footsteps had stopped and he could now feel two pairs of eyes on his back. Remus hesitantly turned,

He met a pair of soft E/C eyes, eyes he had seen in his dreams night after night, the shock he felt stunned him into to silence; the girl looked down, uncomfortable. This caused Remus to finally speak up,

‘Y/N?...’ 

She looked up into his eyes again and suddenly it all made sense, why Y/N had been so distant from her friends, why the marauders had seen her sleeping in the common room every time they left for one of their night-time escapades, why she no longer seem her bright and bubbly self. 

It was her, she was the werewolf.

/ Part 3 /

[marauders-venting]

Hi,, I read your posts,, and they were all sooooo amazing!! I just loved them. That's why I wanna ask if you will write prompt for me. Prompt: Remus/ Sirius first date. Both of them are nervous, and share the reason of their nervousness with lily and James. Sirius/ Remus is nervous because he is preparing for the date. While other is nervous about looks or other stuff. And then how the date goes...,, English is not my mother tongue so, pardon me if their are some errors. <3

The Last Chance

pairing: wolfstar (remus x sirius)

genre: fluff

warnings: hints at death

words: 3865

note: i wrote this with @ probably_wizardingworld_art on instagram. I wrote the part with remus and lily and she wrote sirius and james and we wrote the rest together. they came up with the title too.

a/n: hi! thank you so much that makes me so happy :D! this is my first prompt so im very excited. i actually had a lot of fun writing this so if you guys want to send me requests/prompts i'd be glad to try write some of them (you can send the request on tumblr or instagram)! anyway sorry this took me so long to get to but i hope you like the result! :)

Sirius was nervous, which didn’t happen often so they were pathetic at dealing with it. He needed to talk to James immediately or his head would probably explode or something. When he entered the common room they were lucky enough that Prongs was already there; he was talking to Lily, but that didn't matter right now. He walked up to them and slightly tapped James onto the shoulder, making him jump a little.

“Hey James, can I talk to you for a moment?” Sirius asked nervously, fidgeting around with one of their many rings.

“Of course Pads,” James said. He seemed a bit concerned because Sirius Black was rarely that unconfident, especially when there were people around. “Wanna go onto the roof for it?” Too tense to give a proper answer Sirius just nodded. James gave Lily an excusing look and the two boys went up to their dorm, climbed out of the window and onto the rooftop.

“Okay Padfoot, tell me what's bothering you,” James requested softly. Sirius took a deep breath before he managed to start talking at least two times as fast as usual.

“I know it's silly and I know I'm probably already bothering you enough with this stuff but… you know our graduation is only a week from now and everyone is asking someone out? I wanna ask Moony out but I'm hella nervous about it and I don't know what to do…”

“I can tell,” James muttered quietly. Not quietly enough though, as Sirius still punched his arm slightly and called him an “insensitive idiot”.

Picking up the original issue, Prongs said, “Pads, we both know you've been wanting to ask him out for at least a whole year now and I also know you always kept saying you would do it next time. But Sirius, just in case it's not clear to you, there isn't gonna be a next time. No next weekend at Hogsmeade, nothing; this is our graduation Sirius, it's your last chance to do it. Don't let it slip like all the others. Ask him to go to the dance with you; you would regret it if you didn’t.”

James was right of course, this was his last chance but that made it even worse to him. There wouldn't be enough time after this to fix the friendship when Remus wouldn't want to go to the dance with him.

“For two years actually. But Prongs… what do I do when he says no? What if he doesn't like me this way? Our friendship would become weird and there would barely be time to fix it. I don't wanna ruin everything y'know?” They tried to explain his fear to the other boy.

“Well, if he says no you can still act as if you wanted to go as friends, can't you?” he shrugged. “Even if I can't see why he should say no. It won’t be much of a surprise when Moony likes you the same way you like him, honestly.”

“And if he will refuse because well, we're two boys and there are a lot of people and dammit we both know he hates getting a lot of attention. Do you think people would stare at us? Not that I’d mind, of course, just thinking about Moony there.” They knew the anxious tone of their voice betrayed his words, but he wouldn't admit that.

“You wouldn’t be the only ones though. Lily told me that Marlene asked Dorcas out, so there’s no need to be worried about being THE gay couple. I don’t know why you think you’d be that interesting anyway.” James earned a stern look for this comment, but he just laughed at that, then added, “really Pads, you’re thinking too much; that’s not good for you.”

“Okay… I will do it. I can do that. Totally not scared anymore. And HOW the fuck am I gonna do this?” They hadn’t even given himself a moment to let the decision sink in and had already started panicking again. James seemed to find it hilarious though because he was laughing his head off.

“Sirius, calm down for fuck’s sake. If I managed to ask Lily out you can ask out Moony; he really isn’t that scary.”

“I never said Moony would be scary, arsehole.” He gave James a playful shove before he continued. “Besides, you definitely can't compare that! You and Lily are already dating, she would have been goin’ with you anyway. AND Moony would KILL me if I would make it a big, public thing like you did. Would definitely fit my attitude, but if I want him to say yes I’m not gonna do it like you.”

“Guess you're right about that. Maybe just ask him to talk in private then? If you won’t get it done until tomorrow, I solemnly swear I’m gonna lock you two up in our dormitory,” Prongs said, grinning mischievously.

“Bloody hell, Potter! You definitely WON’T do that, got it??” James just poked out his tongue at that.

“Don't worry about it too much mate, it's gonna be alright,” he assured him.

“Thanks for helping out Prongs,” Sirius spoke genuinely.

“Any time Padfoot.” The two lads climbed back into the dormitory. James went searching for Lily to continue their conversation. Sirius was alone in the room so he sat down on his bed and started thinking about what he wanted to say to Remus, just in case he would remember any of it when he actually had to ask him out.

---------

“So do you know who you’re going to the dance with?” Lily asked.

“No,” Remus said.

“Why not?”

“Well, it may have escaped your notice but we don’t all have boyfriends who’ve been in love with us for six and a half years,” Remus snapped.

“Geez,” Lily said. “I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Remus said. “It’s not you, I just… I’m kind of really dreading this dance.”

“What? Why?” Lily asked. “It’ll be fun.”

“No it won’t,” Remus said. “It’ll be really stupid and there will be a ton of people. I don’t know, I just don’t really want to go.”

“You’re not going?” Lily asked.

“I don’t know,” Remus said again. “Probably not.”

“What? No, Rem, come on. You have to come. it’s better than sitting in your room stressing yourself out about how you did on your N.E.W.Ts.”

“Why? It’s not like anybody will miss me. You’ll be with James. Marlene and Dorcas will be together. Peter’s probably going to ask that Hufflepuff girl to go with him and he’ll spend all night with her. And Sirius… Sirius won’t miss me. He’ll be with their date.”

“Who is Sirius going with by the way? Do you know?”

“No,” Remus said, sounding agitated again.

“Then how do you know he has a date?”

“Lils, it’s Sirius. Of course, he has a date. Literally, half the school is head over heels for them.”

“Does that half include you then?” Lily muttered under her breath.

“W–what?” Remus said.

“Nothing, nothing,” Lily sighed. “So you’re really not going?”

“I’d just be standing there alone in the corner. I’ll be even more awkward than usual.”

“You wouldn’t be alone, Remus. Do you really think we’d all ditch you just because we have dates? We’re still your friends.”

“Fair enough,” Remus said. “And thanks for the offer but as much as I would enjoy third-wheeling with you and James, it’s a hard pass.”

“Come on, Remus, there must be somebody you want to ask to the dance,” Lily insisted.

“No,” Remus muttered. “There isn’t anybody I want to go with.” But the blush on his cheeks gave him away.

“Remus, you’re a horrible liar,” Lily said. “Now spill the secret. Who do you want to ask?”

“Nobody!” Remus insisted, but his blush only deepened. “There’s no secret!”

“You know you can tell me anything, Remus. Don’t you trust me with your secret? We’ve been best friends for seven years.”

“Which is exactly why I know not to trust you with my secret,” Remus said.

“Aha! I knew there was a secret!” Lily said. “Come on, just tell me.”

“You’ll laugh at me,” Remus said. “You’ll say I’m ridiculous for suggesting it.”

“No I won’t,” Lily said. “Rem, I swear on my life, I won’t. Just tell me.”

“Fine,” Remus swallowed. “Sirius.”

“I knew it!” Lily yelled. “I fucking knew it!”

“Keep your voice down!” Remus said.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I knew it though.”

“Great, I’m a bad liar, you proved your point,” Remus said. “Now do you see why I would be going to the dance alone?”

“No, actually, I do not,” Lily said. “You want to ask Sirius to the dance so ask him to the dance.” Remus snorted.

“Yeah, right.”

“What?”

“Lily, if I ask Sirius to the dance one of two things is going to happen. One, they’ll assume I mean as friends and I’ll look like a complete idiot. Two, they’ll turn me down and then everything will get awkward and he’ll hate me and if that happens I might just die.”

“Oh calm down, Remus,” Lily said. “You accuse Sirius of being a drama queen all the time but you’re just as bad. First of all, Sirius would never hate you—”

“You don’t know that,” Remus said.

“Yes I do,” she insisted.

“How?” he asked skeptically, crossing his arms.

“Remus, a friend who undergoes a long and complex magical transformation for the sole purpose of helping you, is not going to hate you just because you have a crush on them.” He had to admit that Lily was making a pretty good point.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t be awkward,” Remus pressed.

“You know, Remus, I actually think they might like you,” Lily said. Remus laughed but even he could hear that it sounded bitter and forced.

“Lily, please,” Remus said. “Maybe he won’t hate me but they definitely do not like me. Not the way I like him.”

“Why not?” Lily said. “I was right about you liking him, wasn’t I? So who is to say that I’m not right about them liking you?”

“Lils, have you seen Sirius? He’s way out of my league. They literally have no reason to look at me like that.”

“Remus, you do not give yourself enough credit, honestly,” Lily sighed. “So how long have you liked them?”

“Since the start of fifth year,” Remus said, not meeting her eye.

“That’s almost three years,” she said.

“It is,” Remus sighed, still not looking at her.

“Remus,” Lily started, “I really think you should talk to him.”

“Lily—”

“No, Remus, listen. Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Bitch,” Lily said, jabbing him in the ribs with her elbow.

“Kidding,” Remus grunted.

“So talk to him,” she insisted. Remus hesitated.

“What if he already has a date?” he asked.

“Ask them,” Lily shrugged.

“And if they do?”

“Hmm I think you know exactly what you’re going to do if Sirius already has a date and you don’t need my advice at all so I would like to propose the alternative,” Lily said. “What if he doesn’t have a date?”

“I—” Remus buried his face in his palms, “I don’t fucking know.”

“Hey,” Lily said, gently. “It’s ok. Everything will be ok, regardless of what happens, Remus. I promise.”

“I don’t want to lose him,” he said, quietly.

“You won’t,” she said. “Remus, look at me.” He did. “You won’t. You know it as well as I do. You won’t lose him, no matter what.”

“Ok,” Remus sighed. “So I guess I’m asking Sirius Black to the dance.” He felt a flutter in his stomach as he said it. He was really going to do it.

“I guess you are,” Lily said, smiling.

---------

Remus walked into the dorm and found himself alone with Sirius, who looked up as he came in.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi.” Ask him, said a voice in his head. Lily’s voice. It was his chance; the dorm was empty, it was just the two of them. He needed to stop putting this off.

“So, um… do you have a date to the dance yet?” he asked timidly.

“Nope,” Sirius said, looking back at the floor. “Do you?”

“No,” Remus replied. “So the Sirius Black doesn’t have a date to the dance yet?” Remus added, trying to relax. Just talk, he told himself, just talk to him like you normally would.

“How’d that happen?” Sirius shrugged.

“I don’t know,” they said. “I just didn’t really fancy any of the people who asked me.”

“Is… is there someone you wanted to ask yourself?” Remus asked, heart racing in his chest. Sirius hesitated a moment before answering.

“Yes,” he said slowly.

“So why didn’t you?”

“Same reason as anybody, I suppose. I didn’t want to be turned down.”

“Pfft like anybody would turn you down,” Remus said.

“I will ask him, though.”

“When?”

“Within the next five minutes probably. What about you? Why don’t you have a date?” Well, here it goes.

“I’m hoping to,” Remus said. “Soon enough.” Maybe it was his imagination but Remus thought he saw the spark leave Sirius’ grey eyes, the smile faltering slightly on his lips.

“So who’s the lucky lad or lady who’s swept you off your feet?” Sirius asked. Suddenly some gusto of bravery possessed Remus and he took a step towards Sirius.

“Well, you know them,” he said.

“Do I, now?”

“Yep,” Remus said. “He’s in this room right now.” Sirius’ eyes darted in every direction but found Remus again when they realised that there was nobody there but the two of them.

“Wait,” Sirius said, realisation growing in his eyes. “Are—are you trying to ask me to the dance?” Remus gave a small nod.

“That,” he said, “and tell you that I… I’ve liked you for a long time now.”

“No, no, no, you can’t do that,” Sirius said. Remus ducked his head, feeling the tears filling his eyes. He knew it would end like this. It was stupid to cry when this was exactly what he had expected. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Sirius, I’m so, so sorry. I never meant—”

“I was just about to ask you to the dance!” Sirius said. “You totally stole my moment!”

“I— what?” Remus said, looking up. “You… you were going to ask me to the dance?”

“Yes, I’ve been trying to all day,” Sirius said. “But I kept stalling until James told me to suck it up and just do it already.”

“Wait, I— wha— I’m so confused,” Remus said, trying to get a hold of the situation.

“You… you wanted to ask me to the dance?”

“Yes, Remus,” Sirius said, taking his hand in their own. “I wanted to tell you that I… I’ve had a crush on you since we were like fifteen and… nothing would make me happier than to go to this dance with you.”

“Really?” Remus asked.

“Yeah,” Sirius said, wiping the tears out of Remus’ eyes with his thumb. “But then you got there first.”

“Maybe next time try to be a little bit faster then,” Remus laughed.

“Fine,” Sirius said, grinning. And then before he knew it, Remus was being kissed by Sirius Black. Sirius had closed the gap between them, kissing Remus firmly on the lips. And for a moment, Remus couldn’t breathe. Because this was too good to be true. Far, far too good. Sirius wanted to go to the dance with him. And he wanted to go to the dance with Sirius. He was going to the dance with Sirius. He’s kissing Sirius right now.

---------

For the fifth and last time, Remus checked his reflection in the mirror. It hadn’t changed within the last few minutes of course, but he was nervous, really nervous.

“Calm down Remus, you look good.” It was James. He had just come out of the bathroom, finally wearing his suit too.

“Really Moony, you’re worrying too much,” Peter assured him.

All of them had decided to wear a simple, black suit but somehow they’d still managed to look completely different. Maybe it was the fact that James was wearing a normal tie, Peter was going for a bow tie and Remus himself had just left open the top two buttons of his shirt. Remus didn’t know what Sirius was going to wear, as they dressed with the girls to avoid Remus seeing him in his outfit before he was supposed to.

In less than a minute James and Remus were supposed to meet their dates in the Gryffindor common room so the three boys decided to get down there and wait for them.

As soon as they reached the common room the door of the girls’ dormitory swung open and Lily started walking down the stairs in a beautiful, emerald green, backless dress, followed by Sirius and Marlene.

Remus thought he’d faint when he saw Sirius’s outfit. He was wearing a DRESS. And they looked absolutely stunning in it. The dress was a beautiful dark blue and floor-length with a plunging V-neck and a split skirt, and he was wearing a goddamn underbust corset. It was breathtaking. He only noticed he’d been staring a bit long when Sirius was standing right in front of him, staring right back, lips slightly parted. They swallowed visibly before he said, “You look good Moony.”

His face was probably deep red, but somehow he still managed to say something.

“And you look absolutely marvellous in that dress.”

Was that possible? Sirius Black, blushing? Apparently, it was and it was cute.

They had to be at the Great Hall any minute now, so Remus took Sirius’ hand and they all started leaving the common room.

When they arrived at the Great Hall they saw that it had been entirely transformed for the event. The long house tables that were usually in the middle of the room were pushed against the walls and held a large variety of food, snacks and drinks, leaving the middle clear for students to dance. A big banner reading Class of ‘78 was strung against the back wall of the hall and there was music playing although where it was coming from remained a mystery.

Marlene and Peter spotted their dates already in the room and hurried to greet them.

“May I have this dance?” James asked Lily, kissing the back of her hand. Lily rolled her eyes but Remus noticed her blushing slightly.

“No, Potter, I came with you so that I could dance with somebody else,” she said sarcastically. “Of course you can have this dance. Come on.” And she dragged him onto the dance floor, leaving Remus and Sirius standing by the door.

“You wanna get something to drink?” Remus suggested, trying to delay the moment when he had to dance in front of everybody and make a fool of himself. Why had he come to this dance again?

“Yeah, sure,” Sirius said. They stood by the drinks table, drinking juice (yes, juice) and talking for a while but Remus saw Sirius looking wistfully at all the dancing people.

“You’re going to make me dance, aren’t you?” he said.

“Oh come on we have to dance a little,” Sirius said. “It is a dance after all.”

“But we both know that I cannot dance. Like at all.”

“Come on, babe, dance with me please,” Sirius pouted.

“Babe?” Remus said, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Um, I-I mean… uh…” Sirius stuttered, his cheeks flushed. They put their head on Remus’ shoulder, hiding his face. “Sorry.” Remus kissed the top of Sirius’ head, lingering to smell Sirius’ hair.

“Don’t be, I… I like it,” Remus said, blushing hard.

“You do?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah.”

“Ok. So will you dance with me?” Sirius asked hopefully. Remus hesitated a little before answering.

“Yeah,” he said. “I will.” And he took Sirius by the hand and pulled them into the center of the Great Hall.

Remus was right, of course. He could not dance. But he was trying. The more upbeat the songs were the more difficult but as soon as a slow song came on, Sirius wrapped him in their arms and took the lead, making it significantly easier to dance but also significantly harder to breathe.

Right now they were dancing in each other’s arms, swaying slowly to the music. Remus closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Sirius’.

“I love you, you know,” he said. “I’m in love with you.” Sirius stumbled on his feet and stopped moving.

“Really?” they asked. Remus froze, realising what he had said.

“Uh I–I mean…” Remus stuttered, “that depends, is this a good or bad reaction?”

“Good,” Sirius said, quietly. “The best.” And then he kissed Remus. There, in the middle of the great hall, in front of all their friends and all their classmates and all their teachers, Remus and Sirius stood, kissing each other like their lives depended on it, like they needed the other more than they needed oxygen. And at that moment, at that moment that Remus' lips connected with Sirius’, at that moment that Sirius slid their tongue into Remus’ mouth and pulled him closer, at that moment Remus didn’t have a care in the world. He didn’t care that people were watching, he didn’t care that he might fail his examinations, he didn’t care about the war waging outside the walls. All he cared about was Sirius and the feeling he had when they were together. As long as he had Sirius, nothing else mattered.

When they broke apart, Remus’ breaths were shallow. He held Sirius close, their foreheads pressed together, his arms around Sirius’ neck as Sirius’ hands cupped Remus’ face.

“I love you too,” Sirius whispered. He could’ve yelled it, could’ve made a scene. The whole room was watching them anyway. But this wasn’t just something for attention, Remus knew. Sirius meant it. They meant what he said. He really meant it.

“I thought you would hate me if you ever found out,” Remus said, not moving away.

“Well, then you’re an idiot,” Sirius said, “because I could never hate you. Not even if I tried.”

“Me neither,” Remus said. “I could never hate you either.” Remus knew it was true the moment he said it. But despite that, the universe decided to put him to the test. It was barely four years later when Remus was desperately trying to fall out of love with Sirius, to hate him. Because how could you love your best friend’s murderer? You shouldn’t. But apparently, he could. It took another twelve years for Remus to be able to admit that he had not hated Sirius. Not really. He thought back to the day he told Sirius that he could never hate them. He wasn’t lying that day. Remus was unsure of many things these days. Everything seemed rocky and unstable. Anything good could disappear at any moment and more often than not it did. But this he was certain of, without a shadow of a doubt: for as long he lived, he would be in love with Sirius Black. And nothing could change that.

[sociallyanxiouss]

The Sister (Neville Longbottom)

MASTERLIST

pairing : neville longbottom x potter! reader

word count : 1689 words

summary :  you’re the overlooked potter twin, but as you grew older, you grew more graceful and cause people to finally looked at your way, but you didn’t realize that a herbology genius has been looking at you for some time now.

a/n : hi again! it’s been a while, i know. i actually have one last, (not that important) paper left before i settle until graduation. i am currently going through so much change at the moment. i decided to make this a mini series since i wanted to incorporate all the emotions in this and the parts in the future. with that being said, this part of the series might be a little boring since it’s just a tiny filler about the reader’s life and character. enjoy! 

also, there is voldy in this, but there isn’t a war! things after the goblet of fire did not happen!

-

you grew up not shy. frankly, you were the opposite. no, you weren’t the type to embarrass yourself in public or get yourself in trouble, you left that for your brother. 

yes, your brother is the chosen one. the one everyone wants to be friends with, but also the one that often gets into big trouble. at first, it seemed that you gained a lot of friends from just sitting next to your brother, and announcing that you were in fact, her twin, younger by fifteen minutes, sister.

but then you later understood that they weren’t really keen in making friends with you, but more of to get closer to harry. there was a point in time where you told yourself that you were just overthinking it, but then, you soon realized that in all the conversations of yours and your “friends”, they would only talk about harry. 

soon enough, you learnt to just ignore them. since then, it has always been harry this and harry that. 

harry is a great brother, though. he tried to include you in many of his conversations with his “followers” but you soon understood that people didn’t really care about you, but more of your brother. 

you also stayed trying to be a good enough sister. you always took blame for him. even in things as simple a reason to his terrible potions in the potion making class since you knew that professor snape loved to pick on him and you. you took blame for him since you knew that being the sole target by voldermort was hard as it is. 

you didn’t understand why, though. you had survived the killing curse as much as he did, if not more.

from that tragic day of your parents’ death inflicted by by the wrinkly and boney looking man you call voldermort, harry and you were supposed to die from the killing curse, but fate decided that you both deserve to live, and go through the adventures that the wizarding world provided you. 

harry ended up with a lightning bolt scar on the top right side of his forehead, but you had gotten a worse fate. the curse had hit you first, then harry, making you the one who got more of the hit. 

the damage from that day had actually made you almost incapable of doing the most easiest tasks. as simple as walking. that meant that growing up, you took longer to learn how to walk in aa straight line than most people did. 

you also had a tendency to faint really easily, which made life already harder than it is since you and harry had to live with the dursleys. 

this condition you had also was used in the reason to blame yourself for the things that your brother did. for example, if harry’s potion did blow up everywhere because he seemed to always get it wrong, you would say that you just almost fainted. you had to tell them privately, though, since you didn’t want everyone in hogwarts to know.

you having this fainting condition did not faze the dursleys. they actually treated you worst that you had the condition. they said that you made their lives a living hell since you need specific medications and couldn’t eat certain foods. 

when hagrid came and raided your home with the dursleys, he made sure to get two different birthday cakes, one containing ingredients that would not flare up your “sickness”. 

between harry and you, you had more common sense. you knew you had some kind of magical powers since you accidentally said a type of hex to the dursleys. when you told harry that day, he did not believe you, until hagrid came and told him all about it. 

having the condition seemed a lot more bearable sine harry is super helpful with trying to make sure you are constantly comfortable. you both knew that nothing would part you but you soon realized that you did have to part ways since he later became the more known one. 

you both were put into gryffindor but harry seemed to fit the gryffindor “vibe” than you did. he was clearly too brave for his own good and you just hated to get into trouble, making you too “scared” to do certain things. 

fainting every couple of hours also didn’t help you at all. you just couldn’t handle too much stress in fear that your fainting problem would get worst. 

not many knew about this part of you, but your brother, hermione and ron. you always wanted a trio of your own, but you later understood that it was impossible since no one actually wanted to be your friend. 

but you learnt to be independent, and learnt to handle your condition yourself. 

fifth year, a year after the tragic year of cedric’s death, things were slowly going normal. 

since life was going well and normal, harry and you both agreed to make the most out of it. hanging out with friends, doing adventurous things, at least till what you can take, not overstepping your own boundaries.

 growing up in hogwarts from before you were teenager made you realize what you preferred in life. for example, friends, food, crushes. 

it was tough for you to find someone to like, especially since you knew it wouldn’t get far anyways. so what was the point of developing feelings for someone if it was going nowhere.

soon you gave up, but you knew what you preferred in guys. you’d rather talk to the shy, timid, nerdy ones rather than the snobby ones whose friends are only with them because they’re rich.

it was a personal preference, you hated when guys’ egos are bigger than their dicks, you liked the ones that humbled themselves and were a little more on the quieter side. 

this is cliche but you had an eye for the herbology genius once, in your early hogwarts days. soon, you knew you had to keep it on the low and diminish your feelings for him since you knew it would get your nowhere. 

neville longbottom was more of a nerd in his first couple years of school, but he grew to be more brave, to fit more of the grffyindor title and grew gracefully. 

but you could only admire from afar. harry knew about this crush of yours, he is your twin after all, and you couldn’t keep much secrets from him. this also meant that hermione and ron knew too. 

you begged them for days to not make it too obvious, and that you were trying to push the feelings you had for him down far in your heart. 

the older you grew, the healthier you became. now, you were able to go days without fainting. you also found yourself comfortable enough to hang out with your brother’s friends often. you could now say that they were your real friends. 

when your sixth year came about, you also grew to get out of your “shy” shell that you’ve built since joining hogwarts. you also found your identity, seeing what vibe suits you and what you were comfortable with. 

that year, people started noticing you for you and not the fact that you were just your brother’s twin.

now, you were seated in the great hall, opposite of harry and ron, beside hermione. the both of you always had drama to talk about, so soon enough, you just started sitting next to each other everywhere, classes, for meals. it also didn’t help that you two shared a room together. 

you still noticed neville, you could never forget him. in your fifth year, you realized that there was no use in trying so hard to forget him. all you thought about was him. as long as you were being discreet, he wouldn’t know. 

what you didn’t know was that he had always known you, even before everyone did. how could he not, you and harry are the potter twins, for merlins sake. 

he got to see you grew up to be a beautiful woman, too. 

he told himself that he had to grow up and grow brave in order to talk to you, so that was what he did. 

you walked in the great hall, looking for your friends since you woke up a little later than usual. you spotted them talking whilst shoving food in their mouths.

nope, that’s just ron being ron. 

you tied your long dark hair up into a high ponytail using a hair tie you had on your left wrist, walking to your usual seat next to hermione. 

as you were walking, you felt a gaze on you. although that was normal to you now, you felt the need to see the person. you turned your head to look at the culprit, seated a slightly further from you and the trio.

your heart skipped a beat. your eyes caught neville’s stare. 

since you knew how to push your emotions down easier now, you simply smiled and gave him a little wink before sitting down on the bench of the great hall. 

neville, on the other hand, did not take that exchange well. his heart was basically beating out of his chest. did he even see that right? you winked at him. 

“whoa did she just wink at you?” seamus said, seated next to him. 

still stunned, neville couldn’t answer. he could only offer a shrug of his shoulders to show that he in fact, didn’t believe it himself. 

“damn i’m jealous of you, i wish she would wink at me like that.” dean thomas told him. 

seamus nodded his head, agreeing to what the dark skinned boy had just said. 

after eating your breakfast, everyone left for their common rooms, seeing as it was the weekends. 

you sat with your three friends on the couch that was in the common room. you and harry were currently teasing ron and hermione because of their newly found feelings for each other. 

you had your legs on top of your brother’s lap as you sat between hermione and harry, with ron on the floor. 

you couldn’t believe that you had finally found your happy place.

-

a/n : hello! please mind that this is going to be a small series and this is only the first part. i am also super happy to annouce that i am officially done with finals and only have my graduation left! please keep leaving me requests, i will try my best to write all of them as fast as possible. 

TAGLIST

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@imonlyherecauseimbored @lokilover-39 @evilluciferisevil @misselsbells06 @thatcatsit

[pantstomatch]

I love your writing, and (the cliche, it burns) one day I'd like to publish too. But a lot of things have changed since the last time I was confident in trying to do this, and I wondered if you would talk about the process (getting an agent, that sort of thing) if you're comfortable and have the time. It's also cool if you privately respond, if you'd prefer, I'm just trying to figure out how to get started again? And so many tips are "publish on Amazon!"

Thank you!!!! Okay, so here’s the thing. I’m probably not the best person to ask about this, because I’m actually really bad at being published, but I can tell you some stuff that I’ve learned? That might be helpful? I ended up being long-winded, so (if tumblr works right here) everything is under the cut...

1. Querying!

So in general, querying sucks balls. Like… it’s probably the worst thing you’ll ever have to do. You’re gonna want to research what agents are looking for the kind of stuff you want to write or have written. Some are looking for certain genres or what they think is marketable, and you want to send your query to someone who’s open to what you have, or it’s a waste. Most likely the agency website or the agents “I’m looking for…” page or whatever will give you specific instructions on what to include in your query email - how the subject should be written, what they’re looking for, how many pages of your manuscript they want to see, how to attach it to the email and in what form, and if they want a synopsis of your novel. Some agents use Query Manager, which is basically a form you fill out and attach all the things they want, and you can go back in and edit it and it’s a nice way to keep track of your query. Next, they’re gonna (hopefully; some just never respond) either say no thank you very politely, or ask you for the full manuscript. Most of these agents will also give you a general timeline for a response, and if they’re open to a nudge from you or not. After that, they’ll either say no to the full manuscript, or welcome you aboard!  

Most places allow you to send multiple queries out for the same work, meaning they’re not “exclusive,” except within their own agency. If they ask for a full manuscript, but before they get back to you, another agent has snapped you up, they’ll want you to let them know so they don’t waste their time on it. Occasionally, if they want to see your full manuscript, they’ll ask for you to not send the full manuscript to someone else until they’re done, or for you to tell them if someone else is looking at the full manuscript. You can also change your mind!  You can email them and let them know you’ve decided to pull the novel out of consideration, maybe if you think it needs more editing.

I have never successfully queried. I found the whole thing demoralizing, and I did my first contract on my own, without an agent. This is something I don’t recommend because I had to figure out a lot of confusing shit on my own that I still don’t fully understand. And it also made me doubt my writing after the fact, because agents don’t give a shit if you’re already published, they’re focused solely on whatever you’re presenting them with. And then after that, I figured if I got another book out of my current editor, would I want to present that to the people who already didn’t like my writing? I have an agent for another project I’m working on, and the only reason I have her is because someone introduced us and told her I desperately needed help.

1a. So you found the agent(s) you think you like!

Other than the instructions/guidelines written out by the agency/agents that you’re interested in, you’re gonna need the most complete and fully edited version of your novel in hand. If they ask for your full manuscript, you absolutely should not say it’s not done. Make sure it’s finished, and preferably edited, before you send your query in. If they ask for a synopsis, hard pass. Ha ha ha, just kidding. No, really, arguably, this is going to be the hardest thing to write. A synopsis will suck your soul out of your body and make you weep blood. The only thing worse than querying is writing a synopsis for that query. I have never written a synopsis that I didn’t think was utter shit. I hate them.

Querytracker is a cool place to look up agents that you want to query and see how responsive (and nice) they are. It took me a little bit to figure out the abbreviations, though.

2. Pick your genre carefully

Unless you are a best selling author, they are never ever ever going to let you change genres. I mean, maybe if you wrote under a different name. Maybe. But they’ve bought your book based on how they think it will sell, and they’re going to want to sell you, too, and genre jumping is usually a no-go. This is, basically, one of the biggest things I hate, and one of the greatest things I love about fanfiction, that I can write whatever the fuck I feel like writing. So, you know, make sure you really really really want to write about what your first book is going to be about, because you’re going to be writing about that forever.  And I don’t mean just YA vs New Adult vs Adult, although you need to take that into account too. I mean if you’re writing about high school regular kids, you probably can’t write about supernatural high school kids. You can’t write about high school kids in space. You can only write about regular high school kids. So.. think sci -fi vs fantasy vs historical vs contemporary, etc.

3. I hope you don’t hate people!

Do you want to go to a bookstore and talk in front of a crowd? Do you want to go to cons and network with other authors? Do you want to call up publications and volunteer for interviews? Do you want to talk about your books with strangers?  Because I sure don’t.  Publishing houses do the bare minimum of publicity for you for your book. First book, they’ll probably help set up some store signings. Going forward, if you weren’t proactive the first time around, they’re probably not going to do anything. If you’ve got some really good advance reviews, they’ll do ads. They’ll probably do the rote social media posts. But basically, you’re going to have to advocate for your book. You’re going to have to create your own brand. You’re going to have to make swag and send it out, call up bookstores, post constantly about it on twitter, buddy up to other authors, go places where you can network. And I will tell you that all of that is my nightmare. I don’t want to do any of that. I don’t like meeting new people. I had several panic attacks leading up my book signing, and the book signing itself was pretty bad. I’m just… not good with people. And, honestly, at my age, I don’t want to be any better. All it does is give me stress and hives, and to get over that I’d really really have to want to do it.

4. Personal perks?

Editors!  I’ve worked with two awesome editors, and it’s amazing having someone to tell you how to fix things in a way that makes sense. By far, one of the only perks of being published for me. I absolutely don’t know for sure, but I always got the feeling that they expected more push back from me with their suggestions, but nope. I was open to everything, and that’s probably why the books worked so well, because editors absolutely know what they’re doing and only want what’s best for the book.

Holding a solid book of my work!  Always awesome to hold that first book in your hands, with the beautiful cover work and everything. The fact that other people can read it and know it was me who wrote those words only counters that by about a half.  

Money! Advances vary drastically, but, listen, the money kind of made the panic attacks worth it. A little.

5. Advances and royalties

The things I’ve read about advances is that too little, and you might think they have less confidence in you, and too much and you’re panicking about selling, because if you don’t earn out your advance, there’s a chance they won’t want to invest in you in the future. Generally, the way they work is they offer you a contract with the amount they are willing to “advance” you. This is basically saying, we think this book will give us this amount of money, and this is your share of that amount of money. You earn this out with royalties. When you sign the contract, you will get a certain amount of money, usually half of your offered advance. When you deliver the finished manuscript, after your editor and you have gone over it and it’s been approved, you’ll get the other half. A two book deal would be split into 4 parts, and you’d get the first 2 parts for signing the contract (1/4th for each book), the next part for the first finished manuscript, and then the last part for the second finished manuscript, generally after the first book is already published. After that, you won’t see any money until your royalties reach the amount they already paid you in advance. Unless otherwise negotiated, you’d get a royalty check twice a year.  Your earnings from January to July would be sent to you in October, and your earnings for July to December would be sent to you in April. Since any books sold to bookstores and online stores can be returned to the publisher if unsold, they will usually “hold back” a certain amount at first, to make sure you’re really earning that royalty. Royalty statements themselves are a hot mess and I’ve never been able to read them, which is also a good reason to have an agent. An agent will get your money sent to them, make sure it’s the correct amount, take their cut, and then send you a check from them.

6. Self publishing

Okay, I know nothing about self publishing, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it if you have the right support system (ie editors). If you’re going to have to do a lot of the marketing yourself anyway, I don’t see how this is much different. Biggest thing would be the upfront cost, and making sure you make that cost worth it.  Independent author S Usher Evans has some good advice for self publishing - Sush’s worked very hard at it, and started her own publishing company. Also, @qwanderer might be a good resource, I think they use Lulu, which is a really cool self publishing site.

Uhhhh, so that’s a lot of info and also not a lot of info, so please feel free to ask me anything else, and I really hope I haven’t made this harder for you to get started ha ha ha. I think the best thing to do is to figure out what you want to write and write it and just… go from there. If you really love what you have, someone else is going to love it, too.

And if anyone’s had a different experience or thinks I got something wrong or has more/better advice for @heyninja, let me know!

[obeymeluv]

Random Headcanons for the Bros [Belphie Edition]

Not gonna lie, I almost forgot about him. I feel like a bad demon lover :/

This list will feel really short in comparison because it’s just Belphie.

This boy sounds like an angry badger. There’s no way around it.

It suits him because his blanket fort is his den and he’s easy to anger (even if it’s just sleepy anger)

You’ll know you’re on good terms with him when you can touch the growling blanket blob and there’s a snort-hiccup in all the growling. Or if they get softer or start to break up.

Those pauses mean he’s taking in your scent and he’s scrounging up the vestiges of his tough personality while anyone else is in the room. If you come in alone those noises turn into a harsh but well-meaning kind of purr

Will make a very quiet, imploring rahyayayaya as the snarls taper out into an inquisitive purr that begs you to stay

Relishes any chance to be alone and expects some kind of cuddling contact. Hold this baby.

Hates any and all homework given because fuck you, Diavolo but has made quite the spectacle in class jumping at the chance to be your partner in assignments (Lucifer never told him the teacher could only pick from the bros. Now the whole class knows he demands to be your partner.)

He’s not big on being woken up by sexy times, but he’ll definitely do it for you with your consent

The classic softie boyfriend (despite appearances); he sleeps best with you and if he can’t sleep with you, he needs a pillow or something that smells like you.

If you buy him a blanket or pillow it is now his second-most prized possession. He won’t take it to school lest any of the annoyances ruin it, but he takes good care of it. Fluffs it out and make it nice when he makes his bed for the morning.

Due to extended time in the attic, Belphegor has to rediscover his kinks. I think he’s a switch. He can be bossy and dominant most of the time but he’s easy to catch off guard and would honestly just love to be pampered/ravaged so...yeah...

Has no sense of public shame so he’s totally down for public stuff. Very into the ‘almost caught, people in the next room’ kind of thing.

Probably fucked you on Lucifer’s desk or in his bed because he would. TAKE THAT, LUCIFER.

Anything in Diavolo’s castle is on the list. He doesn’t want to do anything that would threaten your exchange status, of course.

He shares a connection with Beel so surprising him with food is easy. It’s the candy you have to keep your eye on. He’ll make himself absolutely sick with candy.

Diavolo and Lucifer forbid him from eating suckers at RAD because he’ll hide the stick in his pocket and poke people with it or flick it at their faces (only Lucifer, really)

Loves window-shopping and going on long walks. It makes him tired for future naps but there’s really something cathartic about a long walk (especially after being trapped in the attic).

Sometimes Belphie forgets that he’s free to roam due to being locked up, so he tends to isolate. He also feels like a stranger in his own house, to his own siblings, so inviting him to private hangouts with various bros is a good activity.

Like Leviathan, Belphie looks to you for comfort when he’s uncomfortable. His social skills are rusty but he has a people battery and when it burns out he just wants to go. Being near you, holding your hand, charges him up a bit.

Will spend hours with you in the star room. You guys will pile blankets on the floor, pull out snacks, and just make games of connect the dots or finding pictures

When Belphie’s in bed he’ll either be a breathy, overwhelmed kind of quiet or he’ll be that obnoxious asshole that SOMEONE can’t help but hear. There’s no in-between.

His favorite places to snuggle are on your chest (so he can hear your heart) or on your stomach. There’s something vulnerable and comfortable about being near your stomach. I think it’s an old thing he used to do with Beel.

Your classic tsundere in that he won’t admit he loves you without a lot of denial and blushing first

Even if he THINKS he’s too old for it, get him a ‘read and record’ lullaby book. He’ll listen to that shit ALL THE TIME (especially if you have to leave for a few days).

You get matching pajamas. Especially those kigurumi ones.

HE TALKS IN HIS SLEEP AND IT’S THE SAPPIEST, MOST HONEST SHIT!

Has frequent nightmares so you and Beel help him wake back up. Then you sit with him, usually with a snack and tea, until he feels comfortable enough to go back to sleep.

Play with his hair and the back of his neck. He LOVES anything to do with the back of his neck.

Tried to eat you out and accidentally cut your thigh with his horns. He tries to sand them down but it doesn’t really work. He’s looking into fixing that.

This is a relatively common problem in the Devildom, given the fact that not everyone’s horns grow the same way, so he has a choice of putting cork on them or some silly type of ‘horn catcher’ that blunts the ends. He chose two squishy cowbells (they make no noise, sadly).

Something about being inside of you, being so connected and trusted and cherished really gets to him. It’s enough to help him go multiple rounds. Turns into over-stimulation and begging for you to give him one more.

Big on praise and body worship. Sloppy kisses with lots of teeth.

You’d never really given his tail much thought until it brushed up the back of your thigh one night when you were half asleep. Scared him awake and almost busted your head open on the nightstand falling out of bed. It just felt weird and you didn’t expect it.

After finding this out, he’s a lovable dick and brushes his tail across you any time he pleases. All for your benefit, of course.

His jacket is big enough and loose enough to snuggle, and he 100% loves when you wiggle inside of it to lay on his chest. Has buckled you in against him ‘just because’.

Let you wear his jacket once. Tied the sleeves around you and belted all the buckles because it was funny. He let you out eventually.

When he’s in a depressive mood only you and Beel can get him out of it.

You dressed up in a cute black and white outfit during a school event. Asmo designed it (down to the horned headband), and it took less than five minutes for Belphie to steal you away and everyone else to wonder how he did it and where the hell you went

Loves to give hickies and love bites. There’s something carnal and satisfying about feeling your body tighten from it. You give off this smell and he just--ugh! The biting kink is intensified just being a demon, and a little worse due to his connection with Beel.

When he blushes you can see it in his cheeks and on his earlobes. 

[arysthaeniru]

Just came over from spiraling downhill. You’re writing is so lovely, I’ve beeen reading and rereading it for the past week or so. Maybe once I can get my thoughts more organized I’ll try and leave you a more detailed comment on what I love in particular over on ao3 but I struggle to put my thoughts to words on a regular basis as it is so uh. Basically, Kiryu’s inner monologue is very very fun to read and all you’re characters are written out in a way that makes them feel layered and lovely. Like a warm and flakey biscuit.

But anyway, if you’re still taking Drabble requests I’d love to see some more nishiki and haruka interactions. I think about the one we see from nishiki’s POV in his interlude a lot and how uh. Terribly it went. What does haruka think of nishiki exactly anyway? She distrusts him but he’s also clearly someone Yumi and Kiryu love. I just think that could be a fun thing to untangle or just take a glance at.

Thank you so much for this lovely ask <3 <3 I’m so sorry I took so long to reply to it,, but I’m so so happy that you enjoy Kiryu’s inner monologue. I always wonder if he’s a little too thoughtful in my fics, but I prefer leaning into Kiryu’s emotionally competent side. 

And there is more of Haruka’s thoughts on Nishiki in the next chapter actually!!! It was supposed to happen last chapter, but Nishiki and Kiryu dominated that one. So instead, I’ll give you a snippet from a yakuza 3/4 AU in this universe that I’ve been idly daydreaming about! I keep thinking about a three-part structure of Nishiki + Haruka + Mine / Kiryu + Majima + Daigo / Yumi + Reina + Akiyama....anyway. I’ll probably never actually write that, but it haunts me anyway. 

“Nishikiyama-san.”

Nishiki looks up from his paperwork with surprise. Kiryu’s kid doesn’t often come to him, even though Nishiki’s on kid-watching duty almost half the week, these days. She usually does homework and watches TV in the main room once she’s back from school. And sure, they exchange pleasantries when Nishiki gets up to get coffee and runs into her in the kitchen. They’ll talk about her classes, what takeout she wants for dinner, whether she needs money for some club-related expense. But it’s all casual stuff, polite things.

Nishiki knows that Haruka doesn’t trust him. Just as her relationship with Yumi’s been slightly wary since the events atop Millennium Tower, her relationship with Nishiki’s been strained ever since she’d first met him. He doesn’t begrudge her that, though. It’s a healthy thing for a kid to have grudges about life-threatening things. He’d held grudges against people for simply wearing similar clothes to him, back in the day. Kiryu’s ultimate peace is more unnerving than this quiet, normal resentment.

Still, they’d fallen into something of a habit of not really talking to each other when Kiryu wasn’t around, so her approaching him in his office with such a strangely determined look is unusual.

“Need something, kiddo?” Nishiki asks, putting away the paperwork.

“...yeah.” she says, after a long pause. There’s almost something shamefaced on her expression, and Nishiki’s curious. Kiryu’s never once really gotten angry with the kid, not in his earshot. He’s always open with her too, talking about his feelings and his reasons for his parenting decisions. Why isn’t she going to him with whatever this is?

“Well, I’m all ears.” Nishiki says, with a nod, gesturing for her to pull up the stool in the corner, so she can sit by his desk. She does so, and meets his gaze, brows furrowed, and lip tightly pressed together.

“I need your advice. There’s—well. There’s a group of kids at school who’re really mean to everybody from Sunflower. And me too, because you know. We don’t have normal families or nice new clothes or anything—and that’s fine! I don’t need that sort of stuff.” Haruka says, stumbling over her words, “But. It’s not fair for everybody to have to endure that sort of hardship. I want to...make them stop.”

Nishiki blinks. Bullying? Why wouldn’t she tell Kiryu?

If Kiryu knew that Haruka was being bullied, he’d puff up with outrage and rage towards the cool on a rampage path for justice by meeting every teacher until he extorted a promise from each of them to protect orphans—which would, of course, ironically guarantee that nothing would change, and that things might actually get worse. Right. Nishiki knows how school administrators think, and an ex-yakuza coming into the school and demanding what looks like “special treatment” won’t do anything but escalate the situation. There was a reason that Kazama had never stepped in with their school situation as children, and for all that the old man had been a shitty father, he’d understood those optical politics well.

Haruka’s come to Nishiki not because she trusts him more than Kiryu, but because she knows Kiryu’s approach isn’t useful. She wants Nishiki’s help.

“That’s difficult.” Nishiki agrees, pressing a hand to his face, briefly, “It’s hard to get bullies to stop. You’ve told the teachers, I presume?”

Haruka nods. “But they won’t do anything! Kanae-chan’s dad’s on the school board. And Erina-chan’s one of the top students. Her group can’t do anything wrong!”

“So, you want something else?” Nishiki asks, and at Haruka’s miserable, fervent nod, Nishiki feels his own righteous fury rise in his chest. Even if he’d briefly entertained the thought of simply telling her to toughen up, he can’t now. “Some things never change. We always used to get bullied at school too. And the one thing I know about bullies is that they don’t stop unless they’re scared to act up. But you can’t just punch them into submission, it doesn’t work like that.”

He remembers all too vividly the pitched battle he and Kiryu had upheld against their bullies in high school. The endless fights, the stealing and hiding of possessions, the name-calling, the taunting, the vandalism of the orphanage—it had never mattered what cruelties rich children with nice, neat families said or did, though. The image of chinpira punks like Nishiki and Kiryu in their second-hand clothes, bruises all over their cheeks, always won out. Nobody had ever believed their claims of protecting themselves, nobody had believed their claims of self-defence. All fighting back had done was paint themselves in the image of evil.  

“...so, what do I do then?” asks Haruka, and even though Nishiki knows that Kiryu’s not her real Father, the stubborn set of her jaw looks <i>so</i> much like him. He shouldn’t do this. These sorts of tactics aren’t the sorts of things to be used against children, in Kiryu’s clear-cut world. But Nishiki knows how cruel children can be, how deep those wounds in your heart can slice.

Haruka is Yumi and Kiryu’s charm, their bright hopes for the future. He can’t let her get hurt like they all had been. He doesn’t want her to be hurt like they had been.

“You ever heard of the ghost of Rukia-san?” asks Nishiki, casually. When Haruka shakes her head, he explains. “Rukia was a bullied student, small, helpless, weak, and everybody laughed at her and called her names and pushed her around. One day, they took things a bit too far. When they shoved her head in the toilet, they drowned her...the bullies managed to pretend it was an accident, but Rukia-san’s ghost knew better. Filled with righteous rage, she wreaked havoc upon the bullies, one by one, until they came clean and thoroughly repented for their crimes. Not satisfied with this, her ghost haunts the hallways of other schools now, looking to torment other vicious bullies...”

Haruka’s eyes narrow. “Is that a real thing?”

“No.” Nishiki says, with an immediate scoff. “But you want the bullies to believe it’s real. If you fight back yourselves, they can tell the teachers. But if what looks like supernatural events occur, with no way to pin it on you or any of the Sunflower Kids, what the fuck are they going to say? They can’t tell on anybody.”

The kid looks interested now, any hint of wariness has vanished from her frame as she leans closer, clearly intrigued. “So....how would I pull that off?”

“First, you’d want to get them nice and paranoid. Is there somewhere that’s both private and public? Your bullies hang out in the bathroom much? You’ve got to tell some of the other kids this ghost story, and then do a summoning ritual, very publicly. To make it look like it worked...I dunno. We can get you something with static electricity, so everybody’s hair stands on end, like she’s in the room. Or you can get a classmate to pour water everywhere. Or you have some fake blood somewhere. Point is—you get the bullies a bit paranoid. They might roll their eyes, call it fake, but a part of them will be thinking about it, no doubt.”  

Nishiki lays it out, carefully, like he is planning a coup. Haruka’s eyes are wide, completely rapturous. “Yeah, they hang out in the bathroom sometimes.” Haruka agrees.

“Then, once you’ve set that up, it’s time to let the chaos ramp up. Stick insects or frogs in their seats, leave them threatening letters, have strange voices and rattling around where they are—pull as many pranks as possible.” Nishiki explains, “But this is the key: you have to pull this off as a group, and you have to have group alibis. The bullies might try to accuse you, but if a different person does every prank, and all you orphanage kids hang out together, it’ll be hard for them to figure who’s doing it. You need a completely united front from all your friends.”

Most of the teachers had always treated most of the kids at Sunflower like a faceless, voiceless horde. If that characterization persists, Haruka using that stereotype to her own advantage will be critical.

Haruka’s brows furrow, thoughtfully. “Not all of them will like this...I don’t know if Sakuno or Shika would be up for it.”

Nishiki looks at Haruka, and shrugs. “That’s difficult. But ultimately, you have to ask your friends whether their own sense of morality is going to prevent them from protecting the younger children. This isn’t kind or righteous or something that will feel good. But the bullies will leave you alone. A fear of consequences is one of the only reasons that bullies stop. And since the school will never impose consequences on rich students, supernatural consequences might be the only way.”

Haruka looks down, and her hands clasp together. “I want to protect everybody.” she says, finally, her voice solidifying with conviction. “Nishikiyama-san. Please help me.”

Nishiki can’t help be grin, as he leans forward to ruffle her hair. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

And her answering, hesitant smile is like being blessed with sunshine after years of rain. Nishiki had never thought much about children, even after Kiryu’s insistence that they look after Haruka, but he thinks he gets it a bit now. Haruka’s smile is a mirror image of Yuko’s and his heart aches, and he cannot help but feel wistfully happy anyway.

He failed Yuko. He can’t fail this girl.  

[....]

Uncle Nishikiyama finally enters the small antechamber where he’d deposited Haruka and her DS two hours ago, deep circles under his eyes. He and Uncle Kaz always look so tired these days, busy with things they don’t often tell her about. Still, there’s a slightly kind look to his eyes as he removes his cufflinks and rolls up his sleeves.

“Hey kiddo,” he says, with a yawn, “Want to get some ice-cream?”

“Mmmm.” Haruka agrees, easily, “Can we get one of those big strawberry parfaits? We can split it!”

Uncle Nishikiyama agrees and tilts his head towards the door. Haruka presses the save button, snaps the DS shut, and follows after him. She holds her hand up automatically, before remembering that Uncle Nishikiyama doesn’t really ever hold her hand or touch her. To her surprise, though, he takes her hand. Maybe he’s even more tired than he looks, because there’s an almost surprised expression to his face when her fingers close around his warm hands.

Haruka, who has become something of a master at saying something sweet when things get awkward, smile widely. “Did the meeting go okay?”

Uncle Nishikiyama nods, absently, turning his gaze back towards the evening streets of Kamurocho. “Yeah, just some urgent problems with supply. Had to move some things around and yell at some people. Easily enough solved.”

“Mmm, sounds boring.” Haruka says, wrinkling up her nose, and she delights in the fact that it wrenches a laugh from him.

“You don’t know the half of it.” he says, darkly, “How was your game? Did you do well?”

Haruka shrugs. Even though Uncle Nishikiyama has a gigantic plushie of Bulbasaur in his bedroom, he doesn’t really seem to know anything about Pokémon. She wonders if maybe he’d had a kid who’d liked Pokémon, but the fact that Uncle Nishikiyama doesn’t talk about other children and seems to get tense when Haruka tries to play with the Bulbasaur makes Haruka think that she probably shouldn’t pry any further. Something tragic’s there.

Haruka’s come to realize everybody has something tragic, something in their past that makes them hurt and feel pain, and the kindest thing you can do for people is to simply be there for them when it hurts, and not dig too deep.

“It’s okay,” she answers noncommittally, instead, “I beat Whitney, but I have to wait until tomorrow for the bug-catching contest in this region.”

Uncle Nishikiyama just nods, not especially interested, but not especially bored either. “When you’re close to finishing this game, let me now, and I’ll get you another one, okay?” he asks, pulling them in to the fancy French café just by the Millennium Tower.

“Thanks!” she says, with a wide grin, as they sit down and look at the menu to order.

She doesn’t know what to make of Uncle Nishikiyama, really. He’s a strange man, to whom violence comes far too easily, but he’s quiet these days, in a contemplative way that reminds her more of Uncle Kaz. He likes meat and fancy food and expensive clothes, but he’ll also join her in watching idol shows and reality dramas on TV, if he’s not got paperwork to do. He has a quick temper and gets mad easily, but is also pacified easily, and when he’s in a good mood, he’ll give everybody lavish presents. And he’d helped her too. There’s a clever shrewdness and unyielding determination whenever he helps Haruka and the Sunflower kids plot about how to get the bullies to leave them alone. She appreciates that kindness, that ruthlessness, even as it occasionally scares her.

And, the fact of the matter is, he’s at home way more than Uncle Kaz is, these days. Which is an automatic plus in Haruka’s book.

“You look a hundred miles away.” Uncle Nishikiyama says, with an amused smile. “What’s wrong?”

Haruka shakes her head and buries her worries and annoyance and irritation with Uncle Kaz and her Mum and everybody who she loves but never seems to have enough time with her. She’s sensible enough to understand that you treasure the people that are here with you. No use crying over spilt milk—even if she really wants to. “Nothing, really. Just thinking about how much I want to do karaoke.”

Nishikiyama gives her a look. “Isn’t it a schoolnight?”

Haruka returns the look firmly. She wouldn’t have had the courage to do this two months ago, when she’d first tried to properly ask Uncle Nishikiyama for help, but now, she knows him better. He’s a familiar evil. Easily bargained with, if you know the right leverage. “You’re the one who took me to Kamurocho on a schoolnight. Besides, I did all my homework already, while I was waiting for you to finish your boring meeting.”

Nishikiyama’s lips quirk up at the sides and he props up his chin in his hands with a sparkle in his eyes. “What’s in it for me if I take you to karaoke?”  

“You get to sing too!” Haruka says, and then quickly realizing that’s not enough, she smiles angelically, “And you’ll get the best, most enthusiastic backup cheering that you’ll ever hear!”

Nishikiyama nods, firmly. “That’s more like it.” he says, and grins, broad and amused. “Attagirl. You’ll be ready for anything in no time.”

There’s such a fierce fondness to that absent-minded compliment and Haruka can’t help but beam at him. She’ll love whoever will have her, and as long as Uncle Nishikiyama will spend time with her, she’ll take him. Evil or not.

[springfieldblues]

my long ass review for S32E03 Now Museum, Now You Don’t

warning: LONG because i rambled about history more than i thought i would

id been looking forward to this one because i like art history, especially after seeing how they tried their best to stick to historical accuracy in the previous episode I, Carumbus. this time however….they didnt try that hard. i dont know why i thought theyd go through that sort of trouble again LMAO

but its okay, i dont really expect the simpsons to be the paragon of historical accuracy or anything. especially in anthology episodes told through a particular character's lens (in this case, lisa, whos already feverish so whatever)

first i just wanna say that this is, i guess, less of a review and more of an accidental list of history fun facts. so im just gonna get my general thoughts out of the way first.

the episode was fun! to me at least haha. i mean it got me to think and do a lot of research on my own so that must count for something. besides a couple of really weird ones, the jokes were good. anthology episodes tend to be….not that good but i thought this one was one of the better ones so far. idk.

anyway on to lisanardo da vinky its the renaissance! jesus christ the italian accents in the beginning of this segment were annoying as hell but i also feel like that was the joke lmao. ill be real i kind of tuned out for a second there when grampa started rambling so idk what he said.

i told myself i wouldnt get nitpicky with historical accuracy if the jokes were funny (final edit: so that was a lie) but this meh bit with the pizza guys and mascots was really not worth ignoring the fact that its impossible for italy to have any tomato-based food in the 15th century (tomatoes were brought to europe from the americas in the 16th century, and pizza as we know it today—flatbread, cheese, tomato—originated in the late 18th century)

oh this next part was kind of legit tho. lisanardo, like the real leonardo, became andrea del verrochio's apprentice at his workshop. i loved this next bit:

"Whoever paints the sweetest cherub will have the honor of having MY name signed on their work. That's what great artists do!"

SO YEAH as it turns out, lisanardo painted the sweetest cherubs. the painting here is called The Baptism of Christ, and the real leonardo assisted verrochio in finishing it. specifically, he painted the cherubs in the corner.

this causes verrochio to quit and go someplace with less talented people: a music school (yes, verrochio did quit painting after getting owned by young leo and his mad angel painting skills. he never did anything with music tho, he was more of a sculptor)

alongside lisanardo, in mr largo-verrochio's workshop we have barticelli (botticelli bart), dolphatello (donatello dolph), ralphael (raphael...ralph) and mediocrito (no one that i know of. sorry milhouse) (and kearney i guess but they dont refer to him by name). botticelli and donatello are said to have also been apprentices at verrochio's workshop, but raphael came a couple of decades later so he couldnt have been there. and donatello was too old so that claim is a bit questionable. but anyway

it IS true that leonardo's peers envied him, to the point where he was anonymously and purposefully accused of being gay (a major crime punishable by death in 15th century florence) while he was still working at verrochio's workshop

we are then treated by what im pretty sure is the fourth time the show has used 'at seventeen' by janis ian, this time sung by a dejected lisanardo (man they really do keep making yeardley sing these days huh) who only wishes to be appreciated and not envied.

"I'll show them all! I'll show them all in a secret diary that no one will decipher for 400 years!"

some of lisanardo's future inventions. who wouldve known

so after barticelli, for some reason (revenge??? or something?? what was his plan here idgi) steals lisanardo's diaries full of blueprints of her inventions and takes them to mr burns who i have to assume is pope alexander VI here, they decide to use her inventions for war.

"With these, we can kill the most evil people in the world!! ....Slightly different Christians."

leo actually did this of his own accord. im surprised this is what they decided to do with lisanardo instead of talking about leo's love of nature and vegetarianism (not a single mention of that in this episode? come on...) then again, trying to do good only to end up indirectly making things worse is a very standard lisa storyline. i guess they didnt want to miss the chance to have evil pope burns (very fitting, especially for that era since they were all about money and controlling the people)

so lisanardo decides to leave for france, unlike the real leonardo who was more or less persuaded by his ultimate fanboy king francis I to move to france.

"Lisanardo, I have many questions. Why are you hitting yourself? A nerd says 'what'? And how is it possible that I am rubber and you are glue? Et cetera, et cetera."

that line may seem a little random, like hes just nelson saying nelson things (and i mean, obviously he is) but the real francis also "had an unquenchable thirst for learning, and Leonardo was the world’s best source of experimental knowledge. He could teach the king about almost any subject there was to know, from how the eye works to why the moon shines." so yeah, he did have many questions and lisanardo, finally being appreciated for her intellect, was happy to answer them all. its very interesting how lisa assigned this role to nelson in her retelling of da vinci’s life :^)

and so she lived the rest of her days in france, nat king cole's 'mona lisa' plays because duh, and they make a da vinci code reference because duh. and the segment ends. and not a single time did they show the actual mona lisa painting. the fuck?

(ngl i was fully expecting bart to say 'leonardo da vinky' for a second here)

so this next segment is about french impressionist painters, most likely the batignolles group, a name adopted by the early representatives of impressionism. its much more vague than the lisanardo segment since no one here is referred to by name (except moe, more on him in a sec) but i dont feel like it really matters in this case. bart is prrrrooobably claude monet but its hard to say, this segment is kind of a mish-mash of a lot of things. also i gotta say i really liked how lisa introduced the story to bart with an 'if you hate the formal study of art' and not 'if you hate art' because thats exactly my headcanon. i LOVE the concept of artist bart and whenever its referenced it just makes perfect sense to me.

anyway the segment opens in 1863 at the école des beaux-arts (back then it was actually known as the académie des beaux-arts), preserver of traditional french art styles. skinner reviews his students’ paintings one by one. praises the plain, unimaginative paintings depicting your typical european countryside landscapes. very run-of-the-mill (haha get it...cuz theres….a windmill) (although the real académie didnt approve of such basic stuff, they wanted artists to draw epic historical and mythological scenes) then he gets to barts painting and he gives him an F- because the painting made him think.

(the paintings in this scene arent real famous paintings as far as i know but they are inspired by real paintings enough to get the point across)

in comes barney dressed as bacchus as a model for the students to sketch, which i just loved:

barney: “You prefer robe open or robe off?” skinner: “Just cover your privates with this walnut shell.” barney: “Whoa!!! So roomy!”

skinner gasps in horror at bart’s sketch, which “looks nothing like him” and bart explains that “it shouldn’t; we’re making the art that we feel because we can’t compete with a camera.” damn, you go bart. take that, realism. draw what you feel!!

(also no, you didnt need to hold still for 17 hours for a daguerreotype. 30 min tops.)

nelson haw-haw of the week: FOIE-gras!

so here they are at the moulin rouge (“enjoy it before baz luhrmann ruins it” hey shut up. i love that movie), which wouldnt be built for another 26 years, but it is the most widely known gathering place for bohemians in the public consciousness so i can understand why they went with the moulin. nelson delivers this anachronistic line:

“This époque keeps getting beller and beller!”

which alludes to la belle époque, the golden age of france usually dated from 1880 to 1914. made me snort so ill let that slide

and heres moe! as henri de toulouse-lautrec, who was actually born a year after the year this segment is set in. yo moe szyslak he was just 1

toulouse-moetrec introduces himself as the chronicler of the demimonde (not an actual job). an iconic figure associated with the moulin rouge (largely due to his affinity for alcohol and prostitutes), toulouse-lautrec was also a painter, having illustrated a series of posters for the moulin himself. he simply had to be in this segment, anachronisms be damned, just because they decided to include the moulin. cant have one without the other.

and yes he did have a walking cane where he kept his liquor.

i love how everyone drinks absinthe in this place. theyre bohemians what else would they drink

toulouse-moetrec points out that barts paintings are the greatest thing hes ever seen (and hes seen like five things!) and that hes a genius. milhouse realizes that they should stop doing what the teacher says and use their own minds to instead...start doing what bart says lmao. to the easels!

next we have skinner hyping up chalmers about the art his students made for the salon de paris, an art exhibition that the emperor of france will attend. he assures him that none of these paintings will encourage debate, provoke thought or be out of place at a dentist’s office. when they unveil the art, theyre both SHOCKED at how scandalous the paintings actually are.

this reaction was kind of accurate. impressionism was severely rejected at the salon de paris, due to paintings not looking finished enough to them, they thought they were ugly and vulgar for depicting nudity in a contemporary setting (historical and mythological nudity was fine). these impressionist paintings were sent to the salon de refusés, which is. yeah. the place where they sent the rejects. the salon de refusés does not make an appearance but this scene makes a reference to it when the artists get expelled from the royal salon. also:

“What about our student loans?” “Oh they’ll be refunded. We are not barbarians, I mean, come on.”

(god if only)

so the painters are down because they want the emperor to actually see their paintings. toulouse-moetrec pipes in once again with an idea.

“There is one thing the emperor loves more than anything.” “France?” “No, he hates France.”

apparently the emperor really loves cheese, which makes sense since its napoleon III (who loved cheese) and homer (who loves cheese.) so the painters roll into the salon inside a giant wheel of cheese (obviously.) as lenny said, “Eh, you know French cheese. Very runny.” napoleon III chases after the wheel into a room, where the wheel falls apart after getting chomped on by the emperor. now that they got his attention, the painters proudly show the emperor their impressionist art, which he couldnt be more indifferent about because he just wants to eat his cheese dammit, and he awards them with the royal medallion just to kind of get them out of his way. skinner immediately starts kissing ass (as he does) until marge’s like ‘hey wait a minute. you expelled these students from the royal salon’ and an executioner immediately starts ominously measuring skinners neck.

“Uh, sir...is your tongue sticking out because you’re dead or because you’re mad at me?”

and thats the end of that lmao (gore in this episode, gore in the last episode, and next week we’re getting gore too cuz its THOH, what the hell is goin on)

we get a short intermission with maggie, who wants a story for her too! lisa tells her that renaissance artists loved to put babies in their paintings, especially baby angels.

here she is showing her The Triumph Of Galatea by raphael:

King David Playing The Harp by peter paul reubens:

and a very simplified version of pretty much any depiction of hell by hyeronimus bosch lmao:

not much else to say about this one, really. but i really liked that sky!

the last segment is about frida kahlo and diego rivera. or as bart puts it ‘the one about a fat guy whos wife is too good for him.’ i was REALLY looking forward to this one because i love frida and i thought itd be a cool opportunity for animators to go bonkers and do really cool shit with her art as inspiration…..but the segment is not about frida, its about diego and his selling out to capitalism. and its also yet another story with homer and marge drama. no funky cool animation here. sigh i guess i’ll take it

the story begins in 1929 at la casa azul, frida’s home (now museum dedicated to her life and work.) frida and diego are getting married. this courtyard definitely did not look this way yet back in 1929. also theres something very cringy yet funny about lovejoy saying spanish words the way he does, i honestly cant decide how i feel about that one

the writers know theyre being cringy with their gringoness so they go along with it.

moe: “Spanish for ‘best wishes’!” mel: “Spanish for ‘congratulations’!” bumblebee man: “Spanish for ‘muy bueno’!”

OH YEAH BUMBLEBEE MAN this is his new voice actor, eric lopez! hes not mexican but its still great to finally have a latino actor voicing a latino character and hes very excited to be part of the show so i hope to hear more of him!! im rooting for him

el barto/zorro makes an appearance which i am very confused about. he has jack shit to do with frida and diego and mexico in the 20s-30s. el zorro was set in the spanish california of the early 19th century. their use of the original theme song makes me think they just wanted to flex their disney privileges tbh

lets not talk about that that whole scene was bad

anyway diego announces he and frida are going to new york, without even asking her first. frida is obviously pissed.

“Don’t worry, as a woman, you’ll be treated with much more respect in America.”

so in new york, diego is having a bit of a business meeting with mr burns as one of the members of the rockefellers, who is commissioning him to draw a mural for the rockefeller center. its kinda funny how he refers to him and frida as socialists even though they were very much communists lmao its okay you can say it. ok so far, but then frida says ‘yes, we hate the capitalists! right now, a young socialist is being born who will take them down! mr. bernie sanders. i hope hes quick about it’ and that was a simple enough joke and couldve been left at that but then its immediately followed by this weird as fuck family guy-esque cutaway gag to bernie as a baby:

“Getting a cootie shot should not cost your lunch money. And if you don’t listen to me, listen to the Bernie Babies! What? Everybody’s got goons.” *larger babies start beating up this other baby* “I disavow that, and welcome it.”

this confused me so much that i had to ask one of my american friends to help me understand, but even she was like ‘uhhh yeah thats a weird joke,’ especially now that hes been out of the race for months (then again these episodes take almost a year to produce. i guess they couldnt be bothered to replace it with something more relevant.) whatever that was weird and confusing and unfunny moving on

frida is pretty irked that diego is going through with this deal. after all, it goes against everything they believe in. im not sure how the real frida felt about diego doing the mural, but she did feel a bit of rage during her visit to the united states, especially the obvious disparity between rich and poor. she hated having to interact with capitalists and found americans very boring. in this segment, frida seems to be acting more like the american communist party, which diego got kicked out of for accepting commissions from wealthy patrons. in any case, frida is pretty upset about this whole thing.

and finally we get the first and only kind of surreal frida moment. kinda. maybe. its more cartoonish than anything but im desperate ok

interesting how they felt like they had to add a “don’t smoke” in big letters after showing patty and selma flying away on their giant cigarettes. i wonder if this is something theyre making them do now? i remember hearing something about them toning down patty and selma’s smoking

diego comes home to frida, drunk as hell, followed by the marx brothers. i cant believe they didnt make a marxism joke come on it was RIGHT THERE. THE MARX BROTHERS. KARL MARX. COME ON

frida paints her feelings.

this makes diego realize that frida is a genius and he is not half the artist she is. he proclaims he will now show his awe of her by sleeping with other women, starting “an hour ago.” to which frida replies, “and i will start sleeping with other women, starting two hours ago.” yes this was pretty much their relationship. though im just wondering how the hell did diego not know frida was this kind of artist until now? i know homers an idiot but jeez. art was how frida and diego met, diego knew from the get-go that frida was an incredible artist. i guess the fame got to his head or something. again, homer just being stupid.

“well enough already, while the art is still deco, okay?”

its time for the mural diego painted, Man At The Crossroads, to be unveiled:

rockefeller examines it. good and great so far, and then...uh oh

“Who’s that fellow…? With the beard, and the bolshevik smile…” “That’s the founder of Soviet Russia, Lenin!”

“B-b-but he’s a communist!” “Oh he just attended a couple of meetings.”

rockefeller will not have this communist in the temple to capitalism that is the rockefeller center, so he orders diego to paint over it. diego stands his ground and refuses. despite rockefeller’s threats, diego says that theres only one person he wants to be proud of him no matter what and in true homer & marge fashion, frida is touched by this. they happily leave the rockefeller center.

now, the real story of Man At The Crossroads and the rockefeller center was actually not that different. as soon as the rockefellers found out diego had snuck in a portrait of lenin into the mural, they ordered him to paint over it, to which he refused. diego even offered to include abraham lincoln and even american abolitionists in the mural as a compromise, but the rockefellers simply did not want any references to communism whatsoever. they did not complain about the hammer and sickle, though. yes, they did know diego was a communist and hired him anyway. what did they expect? lmao. diego said:

"Rather than mutilate the conception [of the mural], I shall prefer the physical destruction of the conception in its entirety, but preserving, at least, its integrity."

so they decided to destroy the mural before it was even finished and they never talked to each other again.

diego then repainted the mural at the palacio de bellas artes back in mexico, this time known as Man, Controller of the Universe. this new version included even more communist leaders and a depiction of john d. rockefeller jr. drinking at a nightclub, right underneath a depiction of syphilis bacteria. cue nelson haw-haw:

this was the version they used in the episode also, since the original was, well, never finished and also destroyed. only a black and white photograph of it exists, taken by diego before it was destroyed so he could remake it.

right so, homer!diego then pulls a Barthood and finishes the episode with a large mural summarizing the entire episode. he says some rick and morty thing i didnt get because i dont watch the show idk idc

the end

ALRIGHT NOW ITS TIME FOR THE STORY OF VINCENT VAN MOE

[kayluh1915]

Beautiful People

Paring(s): Pedro Pascal/Female Reader

Words: 5,378

Warnings: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Disorder, Medication Discussions, Insecurities, and Panic Attacks.

You and Pedro have been secretly dating for a few months now after a chance meeting. You both agreed that it was time to reveal your relationship to the public and chose to do so by accompanying him at The Oscars, but your anxiety does a great job of making you think that you don't deserve it.

DISCLAIMER!

This story is based on the song Beautiful People by Ed Sheeran & Khalid, but this IS NOT a songfic. It just gave me this vibe of Pedro walking down the red carpet with someone who doesn't quite feel like they belong and he comforts her by saying he doesn't really belong either and proceeds to list why they're better off because of it. I dunno, It just sounded sweet.

As always, comments are welcomed and encouraged.

You can also follow me on Twitter if you'd like. My life is boring, but I might be able to make you laugh if I’m lucky.

Enjoy!

(PS: Pepe is a real person. He was my Spanish teacher my first semester of college... and yes, he really went to Cincinnati every Friday to gamble)

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

The frigid February air was like icicles on your skin, sending a full-blown shiver down your spine as you hurried out of the Science building and towards the dining hall. It was nearly noon and you’ve had only had a banana and a bottle of water this morning, so lunch sounded pretty great right about now… maybe a cup of hot cocoa as well.

The dining hall was about a three-minute walk from the Science building, more than enough time for the cold to seep through the layers of your coat and deep into your bones. The possibility of a cup of cocoa turned into an inevitability, you running for the hot beverage machine as soon as your student ID was swiped.

You sat at your usual spot, hanging your backpack on the back of the chair before taking a greedy sip of the hot drink. The warmth was a godsend, the sugary beverage warming your icy hands with a pleasant hum tumbling from your lips.

“You make noises like that in bed?” Someone asked, snapping you out of your warming daze. It was your roommate and closest friend, Lauren. You snorted at her remark, almost spitting out a sip of your drink.

“I thought you had Spanish class at noon?”

“Nah. It’s Friday, remember?”

“Oh yeah, gambling day.” Like you, Lauren was a music student. It was how you had met nearly four years ago. Like most music students, you both used the extra humanities credits you had earned in high school to bail you out of the required foreign language credit until university. You were doing fairly well so far, but it was because you had a decent teacher. She wasn’t the best, but she was alright.

Lauren’s was just… something else.

On the first day of class, he told his students to call him “Pepe” because he didn’t do the “formal shit.” He also said that there would never be a class on Friday’s because he goes up to Cincinnati to gamble with his buddies. Why he didn’t just put down that his classes were only on Monday and Wednesday were beyond you.

“Yeah. Whatever, though right?” Lauren continued. “I’m not complaining about one less day of class.” You smirked mischievously.

“No, but your Spanish is…” Lauren scoffed, only causing you to laugh harder into your cup.

“Bitch, you shut the fuck up. You can’t speak the damn language either.” You shrugged.

“You’re not wrong, but at least I’m learning more than you are with Pepe.” Lauren groaned.

“Fuck you. Come on, let’s grab some grub.” You stood up and grabbed your backpack, throwing away your empty drink cup to grab something to eat. You settled on your usual favorite and sat back down with Lauren who had somehow already made it halfway through her plate.

“God, slow down.” You teased as you hung your backpack back on the chair.

“I didn’t eat breakfast this morning. Cut a bitch a break.” You shook your head, digging into your own plate, but at a much slower pace. You both sat in comfortable silence, enjoying your meals as the indecent chatter of the surrounding students and meme music playing from the jukebox continued on.

“So,” Lauren said, breaking the silence as she sat down her drink. “What are you doing this weekend?” You froze at her question but played it off the best you could. Any hint of hesitation would send her into a frenzy of questions that you weren’t prepared to answer.

“I’m going in to see Mom. Maybe stop by my Mamaw’s too.” Lauren’s shoulders slumped.

“Damn, that’s too bad. Devon invited us over to his Oscar watch party tomorrow night. Figured you might want to come along since you’re into that sort of thing.” 

You swallowed hard at the mention of The Oscars. Just play it cool… don’t. fucking. panic.

“Normally I would, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen Mom. You know how she gets when I don’t come to visit for a while.” Lauren nodded her head in understanding, knowing full well of how your Mom was after living with you for two years.

Little did she know that you had just seen your mother last weekend.

“I understand, boo. I’ll let him know you can’t make it. When are you leaving?”

“As soon as I’m done here. I packed my stuff this morning so I could just go. Trying to beat the traffic as much as possible.” She nodded in understanding.

“Well, I hope you have a good time with your Mom. Say hi to her for me, will you?” You internally sighed a breath in relief. How your big mouth managed to keep him a secret all this time let alone this was beyond you, but you managed to pull it off somehow.

“Yeah, sure.”

After you finished eating, you hugged Lauren goodbye and went back to your dorm long enough to drop off the books you didn’t need and pick up your suitcase. You went through your mental checklist one last time and locked your door behind you as you left.

You unlocked your car and threw your stuff into the backseat, making your way towards the interstate as soon as you left the college.

Home was about a two or three-hour drive down south, but where you were really going was about a 40-minute drive north. You put on some music as you cruise down the interstate, your nervousness slowly increasing the closer you got to your destination.

Your hands shook on the steering wheel, you bounced your left knee furiously, and you were biting your lip… pretty hard. You thought about reaching into your purse for the “take as needed” anxiety medication your psychiatrist prescribed you but decided to hold off on it a little longer. Maybe it’d taper off when you got to the airport.

It didn’t.

You had flown before, but that had been years ago when your micro home town had some kind of festival thing and gave free airplane rides. This commercial airline stuff was something entirely new to you which was already nerve wreaking, but the unexpected bustle of such a smaller airport made it worse.

Weeks before when you first booked the flight to Los Angles, you did as much research as possible to make sure that you knew the “norms” and guidelines of all the airports you were going to since there were no direct flights available. You were as prepared as anyone could be, but you were still extremely nervous and all the foot traffic only made it worse.

You went through security without any qualms and took a seat to wait for your flight to begin boarding. You pulled out your phone and texted your Mom and Lauren before someone walked up to you in your peripheral.

“Excuse, miss?” You looked up from your phone to come face to face with an older gentleman. He looked to be in his early 50’s with salt and peppered hair and a kind smile. He asked you your name and you confirmed with a nod.

“Sorry to disturb you, but your private flight is prepared to depart whenever you’re ready, Miss.”

...Excuse you, what?

“P-Private flight? But I-... I paid for an American Airlines flight.” The man nodded.

“Yes, but Mr. Pascal has sent a private jet to retrieve you. He was fairly insistent to make sure that you boarded.” You sighed heavily. You told him that a two-stop economy flight that you paid for was more than fine, but the thought of you doing anything like a normal person seemed to bother him for some reason.

“Okay. I-I guess I’m ready to go then.” The man smiled.

“Of course, Miss. May I take your bags for you?” You hesitated.

You had never been waited on like this before and you weren’t quite sure how to feel or respond to it. You were perfectly capable of carrying your own stuff and this guy probably wasn’t getting paid enough to carry some lucky college student’s stuff, but was it rude to say no even if you did so in a polite manner? So, you just agreed and handed him over your suitcase and backpack.

You followed him outside and over to a small commercial jet, a woman who looked to be around her mid 30’s standing right by the entrance of the aircraft.

“Welcome aboard, Miss. I’m Kendall Bishop and I’m your captain for today. If you’ll go ahead and take a seat and buckle your seat belt, we’ll depart shortly. I do ask, however, that you remain seated and keep your seat belt fastened until Mr. Clements informs you that it is safe to move about the cabin. Do you have any questions for me before we begin our descent?”

You smiled politely at her and shook your head.

Upon entering the cabin, you were at a complete loss for words. It was easily the fanciest thing you’d ever seen. Leather seats, stocked alcohol shelves, an endless assortment of snacks, a TV, even a fucking bed of all things. The man, Mr. Clements you assumed, gestured towards the seat closest to you. You sat down and buckled your seat belt like you were told to do.

Mr. Clements then reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope, gesturing for you to take it.

“Mr. Pascal requested I hand this to you as soon as you board.” You took the envelope out of his hands, looking down at it with a curious gaze. On the back of it had your name scribbled onto it in familiar handwriting. You’d know it anywhere after reading so many letters from him.

“Please enjoy your flight and let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.” You thanked him with another nod, turning the envelope around and tearing it open. The plane prepared to take off as you read.

Mi Abeja,

I know you wanted and paid for a normal flight, but the academy offered to fly you to me privately last second. I was going to ask you if you were okay with it, but you were in class and your phone was off and I had to let them know something before my table read this morning. You work and study so hard and deserve to be pampered so I told them yes. They reimbursed what you paid for your ticket and I’ll give that to you once you get here.

I hope the unexpected change didn’t spike your anxiety too much. I know you’re nervous about this whole thing to begin with and I probably just made it worse. I’m sorry if I did.

 I’ll be there to pick you up as soon as you land at LAX.

Love you,

Pedro. <3 <3 

Your heart soared at his words, leaning back in your seat and looking out of the nearby window just in time to watch the plane lift up from the runway.

________________________

Four hours later, Mr. Clements informed you that you would be landing shortly. Your heart leaped up in your chest as you put your phone back into your backpack and fastened your seat belt.

It had been a few weeks since you’d last seen him and you were nearly vibrating with excitement by the time the wheels touched down on the runway. Mr. Clements offered to take your things again. You still weren’t sure if it was rude to turn him down or not and you didn’t want to ask and risk looking like a moron, so you agreed and handed over your backpack.

The captain opened up the door and exchanged pleasantries with you as you stepped off the plane, but you barely heard her over the pounding of your own heart. As soon as you looked up from the ramp, you saw him. He was there just like he promised he’d be, standing by his car and wearing his favorite pair of sunglasses all while smiling at you with that blinding smile.

Your sneakers barely touched the tarmac before you were sprinting for him. He held out his arms for you and made a small sound when you collided with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and laying your head on his chest. One of his hands caressed the back of your head, holding you to him tightly as the other one held on to your waist.

“I’ve missed you so much, Abeja.” He muttered against the crown of your head. You let go of him long enough to reach up and kiss him, tangling your hand into his dark curls. “Did you have a good flight?” He asked after you pulled away.

“I did. I was a little nervous at first, but I’m okay now.” Pedro gave you a saddened look.

“I’m sorry. I know it was unexpected and didn’t mean to hike you up, I just figured yo-” You put your hand over his mouth.

“It wasn’t your fault, Pedro. I’m just… not used to this… any of it.” He placed a gentle kiss to your fingers, taking your wrist into his hand and gently taking it off of his mouth.

“Please tell me you at least ate something.“ You nodded.

“I ate with Lauren before I left for the airport. She actually invited me to an Oscar watch party this guy named Devon is hosting. I played it cool just like we practiced, but it took everything in me not to freak out.” Pedro giggled, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Isn’t she in for a surprise?” You barely smiled, nodding gently. You’ve been trying not to think about it, but the idea of you being on display to the entire world made your stomach churn and your knees weak. You were just a first-generation college student from the middle of nowhere, yet here you are in the arms of Pedro Pascal about to walk down the runway of the most prestigious award show in less than 24 hours.

“... Yeah.” You eventually answered. Pedro noticed the change in your demeanor and frowned, placing a kiss on the wrist he was still holding and caressing it gently with his thumb.

“We don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to, you know? We can always go with plan B.” You shook your head vigorously.

“No, no, no! I-I want people to know… I just… all so new.” Pedro smiled at you sympathetically, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face.

“Just promise you’ll let me know if it ever becomes too much for you. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.” You look up into his mocha gaze, the butterflies in your stomach making you forget about your self-doubt if only for a few seconds.

“I promise.”

________________________

That evening you were curled up with Pedro in the hotel bed, empty take-out containers discarded onto the nearby nightstand as you watched The Shining together. He was fully engrossed in the movie, his fingers idly playing with your hair. You had tried to focus on the movie. You really did, but you’ve seen the damn thing a million times. Laughing at memes on Reddit sounded more appealing so that’s what you were doing.

“You know, I really miss you when you’re not with me.” Pedro said after a while. You looked up from your phone and up at his face.

“I miss you too. Music school sucks and I can’t cuddle Lauren… well, I can but it would be awkward.” Pedro laughed, caressing your cheek with his knuckle.

“Tomorrow, our stylists will be here around noon. I know you’re going to be nervous all day and will probably avoid eating, so I’m going to make sure you get up with me and eat a proper breakfast.” You groaned quietly.

“You won’t let me sleep in? Even on a Saturday?” You fake-pouted. Pedro tapped your nose gently with his finger.

“Not when tomorrow is such an important day. I don’t want you nervous on an empty stomach.” You both went back to what you were doing for a minute.

“You did bring your medication, didn’t you?” You hesitated before nodding.

“Yes.”

“Good. You’ll have something in case it gets too intense. Getting you to take it will be another story, though.” You didn’t say anything, favoring instead to raise up from your reclined position to swing your leg over his waist to straddle him. His hands instantly went to your hips, gently caressing them with his large hands.

“You’re so beautiful, Abeja.” He said after a while of looking you over and running his hands over your body. You smiled at him and leaned down to give him a kiss. It was pretty standard as far as kisses go, but when you pulled away you were both looking at one another with a fiery intent and slowly went back in for another. This one searing and far more passionate.

Pedro groaned deep in his throat as your tongues collide, the kiss deepening far beyond your original intent.

You weren’t complaining.

________________________

Pedro’s alarm going off scared the living hell out of you. You had been awake since 4 am, trying your best to go back to sleep, but it just never happened. When you finally gave up around 6:30, you grabbed your backpack and sat at the desk the hotel provided and did your weekend homework. You hadn’t realized that you were that engrossed in it until his alarm buzzed you out of it.

He groaned quietly and reached over to silence it, rolling back over and reaching out to the other side of the bed looking for you. When he noticed that you were gone, he raised up from the sheets and looked around the room. His hair was an absolute nightmare, sticking up in various directions as he stretched out his back and yawned loudly.

“Thought you wanted to sleep in.” He teased after he found you at the desk.

“You said you were going to wake me up early. Figured I might get some work done.” Concern then donned on his brow.

“Honey, how long have you been up?”

“Not long,” you lie. “I wanted to get some work done so I just got up at my usual time.” Pedro got out of bed and padded over to you, rubbing your shoulders and placing a kiss atop your head.

“You work too hard. You should take a break while you can.” You lolled your head back, Pedro’s hands rubbing your shoulders feeling absolutely amazing.

“I’ll do whatever you say as long as you keep doing that.” He laughed, kissing your cheek and heading to the bathroom.

________________________

You didn’t want to question the professional, you really didn’t. But after the third layer of concealer, you just had to.

“That’s a lot of concealer.” The makeup artist laughed.

“I know, I’m sorry. Use some cream for those bags next time and I promise you won’t need as much.”

You didn’t speak after that, allowing the hair and makeup artist to finish you up while they gossiped back and forth with each other. They made other side comments like that to you here and there. They weren’t necessarily rude so you couldn’t really say anything, but they did little for your already rock-bottom self-esteem.

The artist put a dark shade of lipstick on your lips, making a triumphant noise when she finished.

“Didn’t have the best canvas, but you look fabulous sweetheart! Smile with your mouth closed and you’ll be a knockout!” The makeup artist and hairstylist gathered up their things, leaving you sitting there in your robe staring at the floor and hoping they leave fast.

When they finally left, you got up from the bed and walked over to the full-bodied mirror. You showed your teeth and started looking over them. You never thought they looked too bad. Sure, they were crooked and had some spacing, but they were okay. Braces were expensive and playing a brass instrument with braces is a death sentence for lips.

What if you were wrong about them looking okay all this time? Maybe you should have taken out that loan and a semester off to fix your teeth…

Your stylist came in shortly after. He was quieter than the others had been and much nicer which you were thankful for as you changed into the white dress they had picked for you. When you came out, the stylist smiled and hooped.

“You look gorgeous!” You finished off your look with matching jewelry and a clutch purse, sitting down on the bed to put on your heels.

“It took me forever to find a pair of acceptable wedges for you, sweetheart. I don’t know why you didn’t just tough it out for one night, but hey. I get it. Country girls don’t like heels and that’s okay! It worked out.”

Again, not necessarily rude… but damn.

________________________

You were waiting in the lobby for Pedro to come out, bouncing your leg nervously and trying to remember not to touch your eyes or bite your lip because of the makeup. When you saw him step off the elevator, your breath caught in your throat. His hair was slicked back and his facial hair neatly trimmed, the black velvet suit hugging his broad shoulders perfectly.

“Wow…” He muttered, looking you up and down. “You look absolutely stunning, Abeja.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You replied, playing with his bow tie.

“Hey, hey, no. Don’t touch it. I don’t know how to tie it back if it comes loose.” You laughed and shook your head.

“Fine… I’ll unwrap my present later.” Pedro’s own breath caught as you winked up at him. He cleared his throat and composed himself, offering you his arm.

“Ready?” You swallowed and nodded, taking his arm for him to escort you.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

________________________

You were in line for the red carpet, the flashing cameras of the paparazzi already blinding and you were still pretty far back. Your stomach churned, a wave of nausea rising up but nothing happening. Pedro took your shaking hand into his and squeezed it gently.

“You okay?” He asked, noticing how tense you were and only grew worse the closer you got.

“... fine.”

“Plan B’s still an option if you need it, Abeja. You have your medicine you can take too.” You shook your head, looking back at him to flash him a smile.

“I’m good.” You could tell that he didn’t buy your bullshit. Not even for a moment. He didn’t say anything, though, opting only to lift your hand and press a kiss to the back of it.

“I’ll be right there beside you the entire time, honey. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or need to leave, you let me know.” You nodded at him, accepting a kiss from him before looking back out the window of the limo.

Your turn came up way sooner than you would have liked, the greeter opening up the limo door as soon as the car stopped and allowing Pedro to step out into the public eye. The photographers went nuts, the flashing lights and screams from fans intimidating you more than you thought they would.

What the fuck were you thinking? You’re just some tired ass music student. You don’t belong here with all these people.

You almost chickened out and stayed in the car but when Pedro turned towards you and offered his hand you took it anyway even though your mind was screaming for you not to. Just the gentle touch of his calloused hand on yours grounded you enough to carefully step out of the limo, making sure that nothing happens to your dress.

You could hear the sounds of the crowd die down for a moment as they all started muttering to themselves. Your hand was shaking in Pedro’s larger one, the photographers gasping as soon as they saw your face. They started taking pictures faster than they ever had. The bombardment of flashing lights blinded you for a moment, but you adjusted to them quickly.

Pedro let go of your hand and put it on your back, gently leading you where you’re supposed to go.

“Okay?” He asked as he wrapped his arm around you and brought you close. You nodded. You weren’t comfortable in the slightest, but it wasn’t the worst thing ever. While both of you posed for pictures, people from the group of photographers said a lot of things to both of you. Some were kind, others were funny and got a good laugh out of you. There were also a few who were very rude, but they had been pushed aside by the others.

Overall, it wasn’t nearly as bad as you were expecting… but you were glad it was over.

________________________

You were standing aside checking your phone while Pedro did an interview with some of the press. He had offered you to be with him, but the red carpet had been more than enough fame for you. Your phone was on “do not disturb” mode, but you could still see all the notifications coming in. Your Mom, Dad, Lauren, and other friends bombarding you with messages basically asking what the fuck. You didn’t have the time to reply, so you didn’t open any of them.

Once Pedro was done with his interviews, he escorted you into the main hall where he introduced you to some of his friends and colleagues along the way. You considered it an honor to meet the people most only ever dreamed of, but you knew you didn’t deserve it. Someone else should be here, not you.

When you found your seats, Pedro offered you his hand. You took it and allowed him to seat you before he took his next to you and wrapped his arm around the back of the seat. The show started shortly after.

________________________

“And the Oscar goes to…” You held onto Pedro’s hand tightly as they opened up the envelope, your shaking hands encased in his. He had told you when he had been nominated that he didn’t expect to win it, but you could tell he had some hope as he tensely watched them read the card.

“Pedro Pascal.” You jumped up with Pedro, hugging him tightly as the audience broke out in cheers.

“You deserve it!” You told him, breaking away to give him a quick kiss. You watched him run up stage and accept the golden statue, walking up to the microphone with a few chuckles as he looked over the award.

“Wow, this is uhhh… this is incredible. Truly amazing.” He started. “I’d like to thank the Academy for this honor, my Mom and Dad who worked hard to raise me right and who supported me. My brother and two sisters for being there for me, mi Abeja for loving me unconditionally, and just… so many others. There are so many people in my life who have helped me get to this milestone and if I were to thank all of you, we’d be here all night. I love you all so very much and this truly… a dream come true. Thank you.

The crowd stands up and cheers loudly. You wanted to, but you were too busy trying to make sure your makeup doesn’t run down your face with a tissue from your clutch. Eventually, you give up trying and decide to go to the bathroom just to make sure everything still looks fine.

Your makeup looked just as flawless as it had before. You wish you would have known that the artist had used waterproof makeup so you could’ve properly celebrated Pedro’s achievement, but oh well. While you were there, you decided to use the bathroom. You didn’t have to go that bad, but might as well take care of it while you’re here.

While you were relieving yourself, you heard two other women come in.

“-ld for her. He needs to settle down with someone like us and around his age. Not some college student.” You froze solid when they realized that they were talking about you.

“I know. She isn’t even that pretty. Did you see her teeth? Do they not have braces where she comes from?”

“For real. Her body’s not that great either. Looks like she comes straight from the shack or something.”

“Wonder if that’s where he found her?” They both giggle.

“Either way, she doesn’t belong here.” You knew they were right, but you just couldn’t bare to listen anymore, pulling your underwear back up and fixing your dress after you flush the toilet.

You then run out of the bathroom, not even looking to see who the women were. It didn’t matter, though. They were right. You should have never came here and you couldn’t stay any longer.

You walked back to your seat and gently tugged on Pedro’s sleeve.

“C-Can we go… Please?” You ask, your voice shaking just as much as your hands. Pedro got up instantly when he saw the look on your face, grabbing his trophy, coat and your clutch. He didn’t ask questions as he placed his hand to the small of your back and began to escort you out of the theater.

By the time you got back into the limo you felt like you couldn’t breathe. The voices around you sounding like water as your vision became black around the edges. Oh God, is this what feels lie to die? You couldn’t die. Not now! You had so much to do, so much t-

Something extremely cold suddenly touched your face, the blackness around your vision fading slightly as you looked up to whoever had put something so damn cold on you.

You were instantly met with the warm eyes of your boyfriend, concern laced on his brow as he gently dabbed a cold washcloth over your face. You could see his mouth moving, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying over the pounding of your heart, but it eventually calmed down enough to where you could begin to hear him.

“There we go, bee… that’s it sweetheart. Nice and easy.” Your breathing slowly calmed down, Pedro cradling you in his arms as your panic attack faded.

“I should have never come here…” You muttered. “I don’t belong here. All these fancy dresses, the flashing cameras, nice cars… I don’t deserve any of this.” Pedro placed a kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t say things like that, Abeja. You deserve this just as much as anyone. And as far as not belonging, trust me when I say I don’t either. And, frankly, I’m fine with that. All of these designer clothes, the mindless gossip, the broken homes, being surrounded by so many but still alone? That’s not really a life worth living. The world of Beautiful People is a lonely life, one that I would rather not live.”

You wasn’t sure what to say, so you just didn’t say anything, curling up as close as you could to him.

He made you take a dose of your anxiety medication when you got back to the hotel, taking it with a swig of water before laying down and curling up close to him. You laid your head on his shoulder, the sounds of his breathing and the gentle feeling of his hand caressing your own shoulder lulling you.

Right before you doze off, you heard him say:

“No matter what any of them has said, you’re perfect the way you are and deserve everything.”

________________________

You wake up the next morning still wrapped up in his arms. You lay there for a while just talking and enjoying one another’s company before he finally got up to use the bathroom.

You reach for your phone on the nightstand, turning off “do not disturb” mode for the first time since yesterday afternoon.

Your phone was overloaded. Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, everywhere was flooded. You didn’t even know where to begin.

Eventually, you just give up trying to put a dent into anything and returned Lauren’s list of missed calls. She answered on the second ring.

“You tell me every little detail, you sneaky bitch. And I mean everything!”

[bbq-hawks-wings]

hey! I've seen a bunch of posts on how HPSC is slightly corrupted and all, could you explain if you understand this? They're (die hard villain fans) usually using this as a justification to slam the heroes for raiding the army. I'm quite confused sorry

I’d be more than happy to, friend! I have a strong feeling it’s going to be a key detail in the story moving forward so it’s good to go back in reviewing everything we know now; plus, it gives me the perfect chance to offer up my theory that ropes in Aizawa, Midnight, and Present Mic. Buckle up, though, because this gets a little long.

The HPSC tells heroes what to do.

The Hero Public Safety Commission is a pocket of the Japanese national government in this universe, sort of like how the FDA is in America.

It’s important to note that HPSC is a separate entity from the heroes. They’re the ones giving out licenses, disciplining rouge heroes, overseeing hero training, acting as liaison between heroes and law enforcement, organizing cooperative efforts with multiple heroes across different regions, and managing the general image of heroes with events like the Hero Rankings Billboard.

Heroes have to obey directives given by the HPSC and hero schools have to align with guidelines set by the HPSC, but heroes don’t usually get a say in these decisions and often only get to complain about how things are done and are stuck doing it anyway. If someone is caught heroing without a license or not in hero uniform, you can be fined and/or jailed. If a hero doesn’t keep up with paperwork or runs off and does their own thing they can also be fined and have their license suspended. If a hero goes AWOL or completely flips out they can have their license permanently taken away and be jailed.

It’s actually even more important to note that way heroes are allowed to operate and answer to the government is actually closer in line to a militia than a police force. In fact, while heroes are allowed to make arrests and use their quirks, they are more restricted in what they can and can’t do on their own than the police. If a hero wants to work with other heroes on an investigation, they have to use the private network (administrated by the HPSC) or communicate in person. In the case with the Shie Hassaikai or looking for Kurogiri and the LoV where police cooperation was necessary to carry out the investigation and bring in the gang right away there was no choice but to be transparent with the HPSC.

However, the HPSC doesn’t have to be transparent with the heroes.

They require heroes to give up all their information to keep working as heroes, but they don’t have any accountability for themselves and have notably dodged scrutiny up to this point with public backlash almost always falling on the heroes who have little to no say in how they run things.

Starting back at the beginning of the series with the USJ incident, it understandably garnered massive media attention - it should have. Dozens of unknown, random two-bit villains poured into the most secure, prestigious hero school in all of Japan undetected and resulted in the serious injury of two teachers and could have included the students as well if All Might had not been there to fight and subdue the inhuman monster - the Nomu - who had up to that point had never been seen before.

It’s not unreasonable that UA initially got the blowback from this as it could have been chalked up to complacency causing a lapse in security that the HPSC absolutely wouldn’t have been accountable for. It’s treated like a one-off event and despite investigations going nowhere on it, it’s ultimately downplayed and checked out in the background while continuing with the Sports Festival in high spirits. However, things get worse.

After passing their semester exams the Hero Course first-years head off to do practical training in the mountains with a hero team named the Wild Wild Pussycats. Remember, because this is a hero training initiative between a school and a hero team, the HPSC is likely involved at least on some administrative level in regards to granting permission and securing the patch of mountainside to use even if this detail is not acknowledged in the series. Despite efforts to only include the staff, teachers, and heroes involved word somehow still gets out - resulting in more student, hero, and teacher injuries, and most importantly the kidnapping of one of the students.

This can no longer be swept under the rug. A lot happens in the secret hideout raid revealing lots of stuff with the plot, including All-for-One’s direct involvement, but it doesn’t add anything more to our notes besides the fact UA is once again blamed and heroes are thrown under the bus instead of the organization overseeing them.

Fast forward to the Provisional License Arc. This is the first time we see the HPSC acting explicitly. It’s noted that they passed significantly more students this year than previously. Yokumiru Mera, the tired proctor, is overworked. The HPSC has a reason to urgently pump more students into the “working force” now than it had before, though at the moment it’s written off as a result of All Might’s retirement.

During the Shie Hassaikai arc the only suspect detail we get is the fact that the raid on compound is inexplicably compromised, and somehow the yakuza knew the heroes and police were coming. We’ll come back to this and to the leaks in UA again later.

Skipping the remedial courses and school festival arc, we get to the Pro Hero Arc. Big lights, pomp and circumstance, and a massive powerful Nomu attack that nearly kills the freshly crowned #1 Hero. From this point forward, what we get of the HSPC is mainly through Hawks and his experience with him. After the fight, we get a flashback of the President of the HSPC herself telling him to ignore civilian casualties in his mission to infiltrate the LoV, that he has to do it solo, and that he can’t tell anyone. Briefly in the next chapter he says that despite his objections he can’t actually tell them no.

Hold up!

Did a government agency just tell a hero to secretly get in with the villains no matter what, and when he objects and asks whether he’s just supposed to ignore collateral damage in the process is told, “You can and you will”?! (That’s a verbatim quote from chapter 192.) I thought this agency was supposed to hep people and keep them safe!

We get smatterings of interactions between Hawks and the HPSC, and though we don’t get anything from there side we’re getting that every questionable or deplorable thing Hawks does or needs to get on the LoV’s good side is acknowledged and endorsed by the HPSC. “I’m in contact with the shady guy who loosed that monster in the middle of the city with no warning. He wants me to kill the other top hero who just recovered and to join the definitely-dangerous doomsday cult, and maybe THEN he’ll let me in on what’s going on.” Ok, sure. Nothing morally questionable about any of that...

Jump to chapter 267. Up to this point, this note about Hawks’ past has been hinted at, but is here finally confirmed with a chilling detail. Kids who enter hero work may get special coaching by their families when they’re young, but the threshold for entering formal government-regulated training isn’t until 14/15 years of age in the last few years of their education. Chapter 267 shows a little Keigo Takami no older than about 8, at best, being told by the HPSC that he doesn’t get to call himself by his own name anymore. From now on, he’s going to be a hero, and only a hero, and it’s going to long and hard. Back in 192, two mysterious figures promise the same boy, shown at the same age, that his family will be taken care of.

Whatever circumstances led Keigo’s family to end up in the situation they did, they accepted an offer from a government agency, the HPSC specifically - you can see their headquarters in the flashback - to take away their very young son, take away his identity (and implicitly his family), and groom him to be government tool for the rest of his life - a commitment he had no true say in and that he could not understand at the time.

And it gets worse.

Endeavor works with the HPSC regularly as all heroes have to, but his relationship with them and what they’ll let him get away with gets put into greater question the longer we look at it. He turned to eugenics to create a hero he couldn’t be and surpass All Might for the sole purpose of satisfying his own ego. He bought a girl from her family and forced her to have his kids, then subjected those kids to cruel training - passing over each one until he got to one he felt he could work with -, beat his wife as well, and some kind of action he was involved in lead to the death of his oldest son. While the domestic abuse could be hidden, the death of his child cannot. What’s more, shortly after (very shortly if timelines add up), his youngest son received a permanent burn scar on the heat-resistant side of his face and his wife was locked away in a mental institution for a decade.

And the HPSC never bats an eye. They could take away his license. They could call the police. They could have exposed him to the public or at least ordered an investigation. But they didn’t. On some level they knew, and they did nothing.

But it might be even worse.

I skipped over this detail chronologically, but it’s the linchpin for just how corrupt the HPSC might be if all this lines up. Looking at the Endeavor Agency Arc, we get a seemingly random confrontation with a guy called Starservant (chapter 243) who prattles off a prophecy about the Dark Lord returning and his Dark Stars conspiring against humanity which will bring the world to ruin. He calls out Endeavor specifically as the shining light that beckons the darkness, but this sounds an awful lot like the deranged wailing of some crazy old man, right?

Let’s jump over an entire series now to the spin-off serial Vigilantes. This series takes place in the same universe at an earlier point in the timeline of the main story - and take an extra little note that there’s an underlying subplot about unusual drugs meant to enhance quirks (that often result in mutating the user) and that someone may be using them to clandestinely run experiments on humans from the shadows. 

In chapter 59 we get flashbacked to Eraserhead, Midnight, and Present Mic’s childhood experiences at UA, and we’re also introduced to Oboro Shirakumo - their fellow classmate and dear friend. We get a few chapters establishing their relationships and their goals and dream for the future until chapter 63 where things make a drastic turn in tone. On what should be a routine hero training exercise as third-year seniors a giant, monstrous villain shows up and attacks while the UA kids are escorting a class of preschoolers around town.

In the scuffle, though Aizawa is able to single-handedly come out victorious, in the fight and debris Shirakumo is struck in the head by falling concrete as he tries to lead the children to safety and dies on the scene. Go back to main series, chapter 254-255, the villain Kurogiri is detained but the police are having no luck questioning him. They get a sliver of a lead and call in Present Mic and Eraserhead to interrogate him, and it’s confirmed that Kurogiri was a human experiment of Doctor Ujiko - the mad scientist bio-engineer responsible for the Nomu and outspokenly faithful servant of All-for-One - created from the corpse of their dearly departed Oboro.

Here’s the kicker, though, in Japan they don’t often bury their dead. Funerals next to never include an open casket - the loved one is cremated first, their ashes placed on an funeral shrine with their picture, and the loved ones mourn there. That means Ujiko needed to get to the body before it was cremated - which requires some fast work; but that’s not even the worst of it. Jumping one last time to chapter 270, Ujiko recognizes Mic as a friend of Shirakumo and boldly admits the entire time he was after Aizawa for his quirk.

That attack more than 10 years ago was premeditated. This goes back a long ways. How did he find this information - about their quirks and their movements and where to find them? How did Ujiko get the body out of the morgue without anyone catching him? Could it be the same way his fellow servants of All-for-One were able to get into the USJ? And the Training Camp? And the Yakuza raid? All-for-One has a lot of connections for his faithful servants to move about freely in this world of heroes despite every effort being take to stop them. 

Somehow, these shining lights can never seem to outrun the dark no matter how hard they try, as if there’s a conspiracy against them. But a conspiracy of that level would have to come all the way from the top! If you wanted to get poetic about it, you could even say the stars themselves are conspiring against us. But that old man was crazy, right? If he wasn’t crazy - if he was right at all - then no matter what way you slice it:

This is bad.

[stones-x-bones]

Dreamwalker || Hina and Bex

TIMING: About a week ago PARTIES: @born-to-be-wildes​ and @inbextween​ SUMMARY: Hina’s dream is interrupted by Bex when she’s drawn to her energy. Some things aren’t meant to be seen by outsiders. CONTENT: Domestic abuse mentions, Family death mentions (cousin)

It was the first time Bex had fallen asleep willingly in a while. She hadn’t really put much thought into it, instead choosing to focus on getting through each day of her life while wondering when her parents would finally give in and just call the police on her. Or worse. The looming threat of their presence was always around, even if she hadn’t heard from them in weeks-- which might have actually been worse. Not knowing what they were thinking or what they were doing made her stomach churn. Either way, most nights were spent laying awake until she physically couldn’t anymore, and only then did she let her body fall asleep, though sometimes it felt easier with Mina around. Several dozen alarms were set, waking her at least every hour, and to make sure she was really, truly awake, she would prod herself in different fashions. She’d been doing it less and less lately, though, and that was all that mattered.

But today, after so long, Bex was so tired, and all she wanted to do was sleep. And while she’d been having strange, extremely vivid dreams, the one tonight somehow seemed even more so. She was in a classroom. It wasn’t very large, which meant it wasn’t a lecture hall, and the large, wooden tables meant it probably wasn’t an elementary school classroom. Someone was talking and it echoed around and Bex turned in a circle, eyes landing on a woman at the front, discussing some plans with someone else. She looked so happy, eyes alight, a smile on her face. Short brown hair framed her face perfectly and she had on a dress not unlike the one Bex wore. A door opened and someone else came in, and the two seemed to know each other. It was strange, though, because Bex did not recognize either one of them. She made her way towards the front of the classroom, looking around at all the pictures hung on the wall-- art done by previous students, before a voice caught her attention. “Do you go here?” Bex turned, looking over at the two women. She pointed at herself. “Me? I, um--” Okay, this was weird. People didn’t usually talk back to her in her dreams, not like this. “I’m-- not sure, actually. Um...where is here?”

Hina felt delighted : her cousin and mentor had stopped by to see her new classroom. Obviously, it was far from what the young witch wanted, but it would take a while before she could finally see the final product. She hoped that she could create a place fit for inspiring teenagers. The place was a bit dull with its eggshell old paint on the walls, it's aged linoleum and it felt lifeless. A bit of elbow grease, a bit of thrifting and just a bit of magic had helped her turn things around. Yet, the room lacked something for everything to fall into place. Hina was unable to put her finger on what it might have been. She had hoped that perhaps Gillian would have insight on what to transform, add or remove, but it did not seem likely now. 

It was then that she caught sight of a stranger standing by the white board. They looked young, and she suspected them to be either a student who had taken a wrong turn or an alumni looking for their former art teacher. Hina knew that if it were the case, she would disappoint, especially as she had no idea of where her predecessor had gone. According to the staff, they had just vanished one day.

It was her cousin who spoke up. The voice felt foreign, for a reason she couldn't really identify. It filled the woman with unexplainable melancholy. The stranger's reply was too strange not to push away those états d'âmes. Hina put her hands in her painter's apron and glanced at Gillian. Seeing that she was no longer speaking, she chose to reply : "This is my classroom, I'm Ms. Wildes the new art teacher," she had doubts that this would be a suitable answer. Her identity didn't help identify the place at all, if you weren't familiar with the high school.

“Art teacher?” Bex glanced between the two women. She wasn’t sure what she was going there, or what they were, but she supposed it made sense that the art teacher was in the art classroom. But Bex wasn’t taking art class-- seh hadn’t since high school. And since when did the university have an art classroom? Wasn’t the art school divided up by major? She blinked again and felt the world go fuzzy for a moment, shaking her head to regain herself. “Is this the high school, then? What’s, um--” she took another look around but the room was empty. Where were all the students? “Where is everybody? Is class starting?” There was something so strange going on, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She didn’t remember coming here, and she’d never been inside the public high school in White Crest-- she’d gone to a private boarding school. Her legs began to shake as an anxiety filled her. Something was wrong here, but she had no idea what. “I’m sorry, maybe I should just go. I’m sorry.”

Hina looked briefly at her cousin. It seemed clear to her that the young woman was a bit lost, and she wondered if perhaps she was not simply dealing with an exchange student, or someone who had just arrived in the US with their parents. “Yes, it is. White Crest High? Home of the…” She grimaced. Truth be told, she had not quite memorized which animal was the mascot. : a moose perhaps, or a lobster. It must have been either of the two options. At the next question, Hina tried to remember what day it was, when she had arrived, or anything that could have given her a hint of what time of the week it was, but nothing really came to her mind. She approached her laptop to have a look at the date on the screen, but instead, an old typewriter that belonged to her grandparents stood there. That should be in the attic, she thought to herself. She had moved it upstairs two days ago. “That’s weird,” pushing herself away from her desk, she headed in the hallway, to check for herself. There was no one there. Not one soul. 

With a familiar void in her chest, Hina turned back to check on her cousin. She couldn’t quite tell why, but there was this overwhelming urge to make sure that Gillian was still present. And the relief she felt seemed disproportionate, all things considered. Something was going on. 

“Where are you going to go?” As she spoke, Hina had gone to stand by Gillian. “What are you doing here?” If the question had been directed at Bex, the witch froze as her cousin replied, speaking with a dimmed out voice: “You know why I’m here, she’s gone now.” The young woman felt as if the temperature had dropped with the comment, and she could have sworn that so had any trace of warmth that she had tried to insufflate into the plain classroom that had been given to her. Something was going on. This much was sure now. “Who are you?” This time, there was no questioning as to who was meant to reply to her question.

Whatever was going on between these two women, they clearly weren’t on the same page. And whatever pages they were on, respectively, was not the same one as Bex. She glanced between the two of them but listening to them talk and try to explain didn’t answer any questions. She recoiled a little when the questions turned on her, not ready to answer-- but then the other woman answered, as if it were plain known it had been stated to her. Apparently, the original one who had spoken was unsure as well. “I--” Bex tried to interject, still holding herself a little away from the other two. She didn’t know what was going on, and she had no reason to believe that either of these women would hurt her or were out to get her, but something was very not right about this place, and Bex wasn’t about to jump in and find out for herself. Finally, they addressed her again and Bex jumped. “I-- I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to butt in! I can go! I’m just-- my name is Bexley. I’m a student a-at the university. I’m not really sure why I--” her eyes fell to the woman in the smock. “You teach here?”

Clearly there was something wrong going on here, and while Hina could not put her finger on it, a feeling of unease was growing, seeping its way in. She had never seen this girl before. And neither woman seemed to know why Bexley was here. If this was rather suspicious , she could not simply force the truth out of the other woman. Or, could she. Her eyes narrowed, and heading toward the door, she put her palm against it as she pushed it close, sealing the door shut with the melted handle. This felt wrong. She could not just do things like that in front of her students. Hina was in control of her emotions (at least she tried), and that girl was not a threat to her, was she? If the witch started to notice that perhaps she was not keeping things under control, the thought was shoved away as a benign anomaly. What did it matter? Sure she would have never done that, but the thing was, she had just done that. So clearly everything was normal. “What are you doing here?” She repeated, taking her smock out, as if to completely brush away that question about her job. 

The door shutting made too much noise. Why did it make so much noise? Bex flinched and backed up as the woman came towards her. She was a lot shorter than Bex, but it was years of conditioning that made her feel small. “I-I don’t know,” she admitted, hoping the woman could sense the truth from her. She wasn’t here to hurt anyone or threaten anyone, she didn’t even know why she was here or what was going on. “Please, I just, I’m confused, too,” she added on, swallowing. The white board flickered behind the woman’s head and Bex was sure she saw a window, instead, as if she were in a bedroom, not a classroom. She...she remembered that from somewhere. That feeling. What was this feeling again? Her attention turned back to the other woman. “If you could just let me--” she pointed towards the door-- “I won’t bother you anymore. I can just go.”

“You don’t know?” Hina’s brow furrowed. Perplexed, she came to ask herself : what am I doing here ? Focused, she tried to make sense of what was happening, but her mind just wouldn’t let her get those information. Impenetrable, it gave her not one single clue. She couldn’t know why she was here, what she had done before, where she had been before, or remember that her cousin was missing and that whoever was in the room with her and Bex could not be Gillian. She looked over her shoulder, to see what was so interesting behind her, but there was just her whiteboard. She took the time to look up and glance at the clock. Where are my students, the teacher thought. The school should not have been so silent, a school never was silent. The sense of uneasiness that she had felt just a moment ago came back. She knew that something was not right, and yet her mind did its best to assure her that everything going on was normal. She approached the door to open it, but despite her effort to restore it and let Bex out, it just would not budge. She pulled several times again on the handle. It did not budge. “I don’t understand, this should work,” she despaired, stepping back to let the other try.

Bex was relieved to see that the woman wasn’t pressing her on anything. SHe ignored the weird shapes floating around the whiteboard-- those weren't natural were they?-- and went back to focusing on the art teacher. “What um-- what’s your name?” she asked, trying to figure out what was going on, or why this was happening. Leading questions. She inched closer to the woman when she tried the bolted door again, but found it wouldn’t budge. They were stuck. Bex felt her nerves growing in her stomach. The world around her began to worble and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to remain calm. Bad things happened when she wasn’t calm. “Here, um-- let me try,” she said, coming over to the woman. “I-- I don’t wanna make any trouble or anything, I swear. I just want to help.” She gave her as genuine a look as she could, eyes pleading with her. “Please.”

“I told you I’m Ms.Wi- It’s Hina,” she had let go of the door handle reluctantly. The door should have moved as easily as it did just a minute ago. Frustrated, she pushed herself to the side and motioned toward it with just a bit of aggressivity in her gesture. This feeling of losing control, of being just a pawn. She never wanted to be just a pawn that one could move around. She wanted to make each and everything a choice. Her choice. Though, if that girl was able to open the door, then she supposed she was willing to accept that alternative. She headed to the window. The sun was still up high in the sky. She glanced down at the floor. If they left through the window, they wouldn’t get hurt too badly, would they? Perhaps if she made the floor turn into rubber for a moment, it would be fine ? Or summon a set of stairs from the side of the building ? Those sounded good, but she’d never get away with this. Yet, she’d done just that with that door handle. “How’s the door doing now?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Hina,” Bex said with a gentle smile,trying to keep the situation calm. She had a hunch about what was going on, and she wanted to test it, but she didn’t want to freak out the other woman first. She needed to pull herself together, to concentrate. She paid no attention to the other woman, then, as she came up to the door and looked at the handle. In Nell’s dream, she’d been able to shift the world, so maybe here, now, shifting something smaller would be much easier. She wished Nell was here, or at least that little Nell-bird that had told her what to do last time. Her hand settled on the handle of the door and she willed it with as much thought as she could to unglue itself. Instead, it turned into a bird and fluttered away and Bex yelped, stepping back. “I-- it-- um--” she looked from HIna to the door. “Not well. I--” she swallowed, “I need to tell you something and it might sound crazy, but please, please, just can you trust me?”

“Likewise,” Hina returned the smile, although hers felt more tense, as if she had decided that now wasn’t the time for being pleasant. They had to get out of here, quickly. “Not well. Of cou-”A bird flew past her and out the window. She covered her mouth with her hand, swallowing her scream into a mostly silent gasp. The scare had been enough to bring some Québéquois out of her. And so, she exclaimed herself : “Batince, what was he doing here?” 

Spells that she could not undo, birds showing up from nowhere, this feeling that she had been having for a little while now that something just was not right… Had they both been cursed? Had this girl cursed her? Hina felt lost, and while the temptation to get out of here through the window was big, it was stopped for the time being. She wanted to know what the other woman had to say. It was quite mysterious, but the word crazy had picked her interest as she knew that crazy was the word people used when they couldn’t understand a notion. Either that or witchcraft or an act of God. The options were limited. “I think I can handle crazy. Try me, then I’ll tell you my -I believe-  just as bad option.” 

Bex bit her lip. She was beginning to get used to the feeling-- of magic. It was here, present, and she knew it wasn’t just her. It was this place. “I think you’re dreaming,” she finally said, inhaling sharply, waiting for the angry denial. “I think we’re in your dream. And um-- I, well, you see, I have this um-- ability, I-I guess. To, um-- manipulate dreams. Change them, m-make them better! I--” but when she glanced around, she’d realized that this woman’s dream wasn’t bad. It wasn’t like Nell’s nightmare. There were no shadows, no looming threats, just another woman standing in the corner, smiling pleasantly, and then the woman whose dream it was, staring at her with expectant eyes. “I-- I don’t entirely know how I got here, but I-- I think I can get us out. Or, um, wake you up. If that’s...what you want.”

“I’m asleep,” confused, she glanced at her cousin, who seemed oddly silent, and far too distant. She wanted the woman to stay close to her and not leave her, and didn't understand why she stayed so far from her. You weren’t meant to realize that you were dreaming. She didn’t remember where she had read or heard that, but as she started to feel dizzy, that piece of information had easily come back to her head, as did the fact that her cousin shouldn’t have been here. “I’m dreaming,” just as she began to sit, a chair appeared right under her, allowing for the woman to rest and regain control of her balance. An ability, Hina knew better. There was something supernatural at stake here, some sort of magic that focused on the mind, while it was at its weakest. Clever. “Can’t I just jump out the window? That should wake me up, right?” She raised her eyebrows, taken aback, but also worried: "You're not going to get stuck here, if I do this?" She really didn't want to do it. She might not have been in a dream but the victim of a hallucination. Hina just couldn’t allow herself to believe all that she was told. Her eyes narrowed. She was curious to hear Bex’s solution. “I’m listening, what do we do?” It was not what she wanted, no. She looked over at her cousin. Her lips trembled. Overwhelmed with sorrow, she tried to tell herself that she preferred not to share those moments, even if they weren’t real, with someone she had just met. 

“I-- I’m sorry,” Bex stuttered. She kind of wanted to stay here, too. Her chest didn’t hurt here, she wasn’t exhausted and weighed down by the guilt of her actions. She looked at the woman, watched her sink into a chair that appeared from nowhere. Conscious of her dream, the woman could now control it almost as much as Bex. Probably more, considering Bex barely knew her own power. She needed to stop doing these things by accident. She needed to get better control of herself. Maybe she could start by taking control of this dream. She looked at the woman in the corner, then back to the woman whose dream it was. “I can change the dream,” she said softly, chewing on her lip. “If you want. I-- I know this probably isn’t something you want someone like me to see. Someone you...don’t know.” She rubbed her head. Last time she’d done it, she had gotten stuck somewhere, but that was a completely different situation, wasn’t it? It had to be. She didn’t want to go back to that place. A sudden fear gripped her and the world began to turn dark around them. No, she needed to calm down. She inhaled and held it for a moment. “No, I-I don’t think I will. I think we’ll both just...wake up.” A pause. “Hopefully.” She couldn’t really ask this woman to just trust her, but they had no other choice. Bex had no other choice.

“I -” She shook her head in dismissal. What good could it do her to see her family again? She’d wake up crying and wondering why she was so stupid. “No. I’d rather not. This is fine,” she looked over where her cousin stood. The woman stared at Hina with an emptiness in her eyes now, as if she had gone somewhere. 

The witch took her eyes off of her and approached the younger woman. There was nothing to worry about, right? They would both wake up, and everything would be okay. All she had to do was to wake up now. Hina might have not been sure of what to expect Bex to do, she was beginning to tell herself that maybe this was part of the dream. It must have been what made the most sense to her brain. “I..Okay, wake us up.” 

Bex looked between the two women and wondered what could have happened to create such a palpable sadness. She felt like an intruder. And she was. And wasn’t the dream trying to push her out? Like white cells attacking a disease inside someone’s veins? She swallowed and held her hands out to Hina. “Okay, just-- think about your room. About your bed.” This time, Bex didn’t have any place to think of except her own room, her own bed. She closed her eyes as she tried to picture it, and as she tried to picture where she wanted them to go, how she wanted them to wake up. Just like she’d done with Nell, in her dream. A hiccup of fear grappled inside of her-- what if she ended up in the wakeless dream world again? Her grip tightened for a moment. The world flickered around them. Faces began to melt away. The room unfolded itself as if it were a gift box and they drifted into a void, before an energy snapped between them-- HIna’s energy hadn’t been warm like Nell’s, it felt like sand, almost. Hot sand on a warm beach, and ocean, and salt, and rocks. Right before Bex’s eyes snapped open, she understood something about the woman’s energy-- it was familiar, but it wasn’t. 

Her head shot up on the bed and she inhaled sharply. She was alone, in her room. Hina’s face was etched into the back of her eyes. She needed to find Hina now.