#i disagree now that disability makes things confusing. maybe a little but you used that as an excuse to treat me like shit

[soupblr]

only getting into relationships to get your needs met as opposed to because you have a genuine interest in the person is lowkey disgusting to me i will never ever let myself be in that position again. i will not be trapped by guilt or obligation or fear and if you want to twist it so that i look like a cold callous bitch then so be it; you have no hold on me anymore, tell whatever stories you like. i'm glad that i will be able to spot people like you in the future so i can steer clear. you'd read this as ableist i'm sure... as if i wasn't willing to sacrifice my own health for your sake over and over and over again. i will never ever do that again. you can deny it but you dropped me as soon as the negatives outweighed the positives and finally let me go only after i stopped doing shit for you. THAT is when you could admit there was no value left in it for yourself. fuck you man fuuuck youuuuu. i would take it all back if i could. it's pissing me off how "she stopped giving me my hormones" is probably going to be the narrative at one point as if i didnt do all the admin work to get you on them & pay for the appmts with my own money. then learned to administer the shot and do so as often as i could for you. all i asked in return when i got too burnt out to take care of everything except receiving the injection was to approach me on the day of the shot and tell me within half an hour that it was that day. and you couldn't even do that. then you want to whinge to me about being scared re:hormone levels & consequences. you did that to your fucking self.

[kittenshift-17]

"Soooo... what are we gonna do if he doesn't go away?" Stiles asked softly after spitting out the pool water that’d seeped past his lips.

They both knew what he was talking about. Derek was completely paralysed, and the dead weight of the werewolf was weighing him down. They could both feel Stiles’s strength beginning to wane after two hours of treading water.

"Risk whatever he's gonna do to us if we swim to the edge?" Derek suggested, and Stiles could tell from the look on his face that the werewolf knew that way led a gory, blood-soaked death.

"Think I'd rather drown than be gutted," he muttered.

Derek didn't say anything to that, but he didn't really have to. After two hours of this, Derek had accepted that any minute now, he would drown. He didn't trust humans, especially not Stiles, and he'd been waiting for Stiles to make the decision to save himself. To throw Derek's arm off himself and swim for the edge. To let him sink and leave him to die.

He hadn't yet, and Derek didn't know why, other than the fear of the kanima outweighing his fear of drowning.

"Maybe he'll go away," Derek suggested. "I'm pretty sure someone's controlling him."

"Controlling him to keep us in the pool?" Stiles frowned.

"He's clearly after one of us," Derek shrugged.

"Probably you after all the times you've hunted him."

Derek agreed, though he didn't say so.

"If that's the case, he'll probably let you leave," he pointed out quietly. "You... you can let me go, you know."

Stiles twisted his head to gape at him in confusion.

"You'll drown."

"Yeah, but you won't," Derek answered seriously. "I know you're tired. If you wait any longer, you won't have the strength to swim to the edge and climb out."

Stiles gave him an indecipherable look, the skin around his eyes tightening.

"You don't have to drown with me," Derek murmured quietly because he was certain they both would if Stiles didn't let him go.

"We don't know for certain that it's after you," Stiles replied evenly, looking away from him before he began kicking a little harder and using the arm not holding Derek up to begin dragging them both through the water toward the shallower end.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying not to drown," Stiles huffed.

Derek knew he was flagging. He could feel the way the younger man's muscles trembled with every circle of limbs designed to keep them afloat. Stiles kept swimming while the kanima circled the pool edge, hissing and flicking his creepy serpentine tail. Despite the lizard skin, he reminded Derek of a cat eyeing a bird it wanted to hunt but couldn't reach.

"The pool is still too deep at the other end for you to touch the bottom," Derek pointed out.

"The disability access steps aren't," Stiles grunted and Derek's eyes widened, remembering the school had installed a special staircase into the water that would allow those who couldn't use the ladder to still swim.

"He'll be able to reach with his claws," Derek warned.

"Not if I stay right at the edge of them. I should be able to stand up there."

He kept struggling, panting heavily and almost dropping them both under the water several times. Derek hated being so helpless, his limbs completely numb.

"You don't have to save me, Stiles," he tried again.

"Dude, you only got cut and fell into the pool in the first place because you were trying to push me out of the way when he came at us," Stiles disagreed. "I know you're fast enough to outrun that thing. You could have legged it like Erica did. But you didn't. I'm not gonna let you die for me."

The logic floored Derek.

Like, yeah, he had been trying to save Stiles, but he was bigger and stronger and faster, and the creature probably wasn't after the sarcastic teenager.

"Made it," Stiles grunted in relief, and Derek felt it when he got his feet under him on the solid steps and was no longer straining to tread water.

The creature snarled, swiping at them and it hissed and skittering away when it got wet again.

"It's definitely afraid of the water."

Derek nodded in agreement as Stiles adjusted his grip on him, unfurling Derek's arm from around his shoulders and turning his body to put both arms around his waist, Derek's back to his chest.

He leaned back against the bollard in the middle of the step, installed to ensure no one in a wheelchair using the steps accidentally rolled into the spot that would be too deep. On the step, the water barely cleared Stiles's stomach when he stood at full height - the perfect depth for someone in a chair to keep their head above water. But to keep out of reach of the creature, they had to stay as submerged as possible.

Derek ended up practically in Stiles lap, the boy using his own thighs to help keep Derek’s head above water, arranging his legs to balance the back of his thighs over Stiles’s knees. The alpha wolf inside his soul hated the position, so utterly vulnerable with Stiles at his back, his warm breath huffing at the side of his neck and cheek, over the top of his shoulder. His arms around his waist, supporting him.

"Thank you," he forced himself to say while Stiles panted tiredly, his forehead leaning against the back of Derek's head. "For not letting me drown."

"Yeah, well, you didn't let that thing gut me," Stiles muttered. "And you saved me when Isaac wanted to eat me on his first full moon."

They fell silent after that, Stiles still panting a little from the exertion - he was going to be sore in the coming days after the strain on his muscles, Derek was sure of it. The creature came back a few times, never getting close enough to the water's edge to reach them again, before eventually, it disappeared.

"He's gone," Derek said quietly, and Stiles jolted against his back, having almost dozed off.

"You sure? He could be hiding to try and lure us out."

Derek listened for the creature's heartbeat, but only the steady thump of his own and Stiles’s met his ears.

"We're alone," Derek confirmed.

"Oh, thank God. I'm freezing."

He stirred beneath Derek, beginning to drag him up the stairs to get them both out of the water.

"I think some feeling is coming back," Derek confided when Stiles had him on dry land.

"Of course it is," Stiles huffed. "Perfect timing."

Derek managed to drag himself into a sitting position right as another heartbeat reached his ears followed by the drum of rapid footsteps. He whipped his head around, looking for the source, only to see Scott running into view.

"Stiles! Derek!" Scott yelled.

"More perfect timing," Stiles muttered bitterly. "You couldn't have shown up an hour ago, Scott?"

Derek huffed as well because it was annoying that Scott, Erica, Isaac, and Boyd had all left them here. They could have died.

Stiles looked over at Derek when Scott hauled him onto his feet. Derek met his gaze, his legs still weak.

Stiles had protected him. This mouthy, sarcastic spazz had been willing to drown for him, to die with him rather than leaving him alone to save himself.

Derek couldn't remember the last time anyone had shown him that kind of loyalty. Maybe Laura? Maybe his parents? All of them wolves, all with blood ties to him. And yet here was this stubborn, smart ass human who annoyed Derek more than anyone else he'd ever met, and he'd saved him. He'd shown more loyalty than his pack members had.

The bond snapped into place with a crack like lightning, zinging through his cells, his blood, his soul, and Derek grunted at the sting. Stiles jumped like he'd had a fright, and Scott tensed nervously as the scent of ozone and lightning flooded the space between them. Emotion poured through, heat searing along the pathway linking the two of them. Confusion. Curiosity. Worry. Anxiety. Exhaustion. All of it sizzled into him, and Derek had to close his eyes, taking a controlled breath.

"What just happened?" Scott confirmed, sniffing worriedly.

Stiles was rubbing his chest where the bond originated, his eyes fixed on Derek, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something but had no words.

Derek met his gaze steadily, knowing firsthand how overwhelming a pack bond could be when it formed, even for a wolf. For a human, it had to be like being electrocuted, burned alive, and drowned all at the same time. The linking of souls, or mind, or emotions all designed to attune a packmate to another, designed to protect, to connect, to irrevocably link.

"Is... is this... a wolf thing?" Stiles asked and Derek was certain his own resignation, gratitude, confusion, and ever-present underlying anger were all flooding down the bond to Stiles in return.

"What?" Scott asked. "What happened?"

"A pack bond," Derek confirmed quietly, not daring to tell either of them that the last time he'd shared a pack bond with anyone, it'd been Laura. His family. He hadn't bonded with the wolves he'd bitten, and his bond to Peter had been burned out of him like everything else during the fire.

Something unknotted in Derek's belly when Stiles stumbled across the space between the two of them.

"What's a pack bond?" Scott asked dumbly because the boy was an idiot who kept rejecting everything wolfish instead of learning about what he'd become.

Stiles gripped Derek's waist, clinging to him, pushing into his space, and Derek managed to get his arm up, gripping the back of Stiles’s neck in return. He pulled Stiles in by it, burying his nose in Stiles’s hair and breathing in the scent of him, like caramel and sunshine, and the medicinal tang of his Adderall all currently overlaid with the stink of chlorine from the pool.

"Stiles? What's happening? What is this? I thought you two hated each other?" Scott asked, bewildered.

Derek didn't bother explaining it to him, just clung to Stiles tighter and closed his eyes relishing in the complete overwhelm of having a pack bond again, his wolf howling with joy after so long on his own. Stiles burrowed into him, arms curling all the way around him while he buried his head in Derek's neck, clinging to him tightly, hugging him while he trembled.

It might’ve been completely unintentional, and Derek was certain that when the euphoria wore off, he'd resent being so intimately linked with the spastic human, but for now, he had a new pack bondmate, and for the first time in over a year, Derek felt at peace.

.

Xx-Kitten

[manie-sans-delire-x]

I think you're decontextualizing too much and talking from a privileged point of view. I'm not arguing with the objectivity of what your point is, but it's a very bland flat hill to die on, in my opinion. People can totally agree to disagree, but the whole "good luck living this way" or "it's never gonna happen" is nothing but a shrugging off problems just because they don't belong to you.

Of course trans folks have deeper issues, we've been fighting in a society that, by default, does not accept us and we're forced to explain our very existence on a daily (or whoever cares to, to be honest I dropped that one ball there). So that's why it's important to make people who are coming from said privileged spots (mind, I'm not using the word "privileged" to hop on a high horse and offend anyone) understand how some things are very easy adjustments to make to accommodate minorities. And you don't really need to know/profoundly understand /why/ it's important for them, you can simply trust it is if they say so.

It's like saying "why would I use City money to build a stupid ramp when wheelchair users can struggle a little and learn to climb a 3 inches step" or "why would I stop staring at that person's ass if it's out and it's natural for me to look at it" because you want to be better and it's not that deep.

Yet again, agree to disagree if adding "assigned at birth" is such an inconvenience. No one is word obsessed, but personally speaking I'll bend the usage of my language as much as I can to make sure everyone around me is comfortable and feels safe, I don't care and need to know why.

How am I decontextualizing or talking from a privileged point of view? I mean I suppose I am in that I am not trans? I'll give you that.

Why is my point of view a bland hill to die on but insisting on changing female/male to afab/amab isnt?

No I just truly believe and came to the realistic conclusion it will never happen, not in any of our lifetimes at least. Do you really expect that this is going to become the new normal, in every country and culture? Seriously?

Yeah damn straight Im shrugging it off, I cant help people who are determined to be unhappy over word choice. Its not my problem, as you said. Everyone elses life will go on as normal, only they will be stuck on this and being unhappy, only hurting themselves.

Changing a language is not "very easy adjustment", not at all. I mean clearly, or else all this fighting wouldnt be happening right? And ok, say English changes. What, now every other language in the world has to change? Oh boy, thats going to lead to a lot of confusion and fighting. Sounds kinda problematic too, to insist other cultures and countries have to change their languages to match the more enlightened English. Colonist vibes.

Lets have realistically attainable goals. Lets focus on what really matters- like violent hate crimes against transpeople. People who are sooo passionate about political correctness and word choice should maybe, idk, do something real to help. Volunteer or work to help transpeople. But see they dont actually care about transpeople, they just get off on the self righteousness and false sense of moral superiority.

Its not about understanding why its important to them, I understand that it is. But unfortunately, reality doesnt give a shit about peoples emotions or whats important to them. (and clearly its not ok to disagree, because then you get labeled as a terf or whatever else new acronym...)

If you want to compare it to that, its more like if people in wheelchairs insisted that all stairs should be banned- ramps only- and you cant call them disabled anymore, everyone else is un-disabled. Society will never build itself around to a minority population, and shouldnt because it makes no sense.

Its not about "doing better" or peoples feelings. This is the main difference in thought process I think- some people view it as a moral social issue, some people view it as a issue of reality and logic.

What is a female? What is a male? A woman? A man? Whats the differences between them? Whats the difference between sex and gender? Are trans people actually transsexual or transgender? Is it even possible to be transsexual since you will never have the desired sex's gametes? Can someone be a female man or a male woman? At some point we need some god damn definitions. We cant just make words mean whatever we want them to.

Why not just have females, males, and transfemales and transmales?? Men, women, transmen, transwomen. That makes way more sense. Why would the majority and a whole ass language change to fit the minority? And even with the use of "cis", "trans" is still in use so attaching "cis" is pretty redundant either way!

[heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon]

@askourocssss

... Okay.... 1. Is this THE fucking sources that you're all screeching about of the transmisogyny towards men in Medrano's alleged comments that I've repeatedly asked you to be citing to me, but you never do, when you come to harass me about her supposedly being a TERF? A fucking sketchy Discord screen shot, talking about Medrano's feeling towards specifically white people, cropped entirely out of context so that we can't even tell what brought this on, when this was, who she's talking to or what she's talking about? Because even if we're supposed to believe you, the only person who seems to be sourcing these actual comments that are from a private discord and they're 100% legit, this shit would only tell us, if it was even real, that Medrano seems to have some gate-keepy issues and some transmedicalist view points that she would need to work through with herself after she's finally allowed to take a break from the art world and not be ruthlessly scrutinized every single millisecond of her life by tenderqueer shitheads like you, and seek out some much needed and deserved therapeutic council, but that still doesn't make her transphobic and that still doesn't make her a TERF. Certainly still doesn't put her on the same freaking level of JK Rowling. It just doesn't. Not sorry.

2. The second screen shot that you've so graciously provided in your little "reminder" is entirely, objectively fucking illegible, which is just enough cause to believe these are faked, and we have another deviantart tracing scandal of a blurry screen cap that someone probably still in High School called "evidence"... But again, if these were real good on you, whoever went out of their way to pay a person with (not even outright, since the support of nonbinary) but questionably worded and maybe trans transmedicalist leaning at worst, (but still doubtful) views actual money which financially still supports this woman during Pride Month, just so you could take your shitty, lowest quality possible if not out right just faked at all, screen caps of this poor woman's poorly worded private conversation where she very freely types like some freaking frankenpussy sparkle kitty because deep down she is one and you're only being an obsessive stalker trying to take down the literal Britney Spears of the Animation Industry right now and if Spears can be given grace for what she says so can Medrano. But you pieces of shit paparazzi never do that now will you will? The absolute worst thing Medrano will ever be is an admittedly somewhat ditzy Bisexual High Femme Bimbo Emo Latina with a heart for art but she's never been harmful. Stop spying, Perez Hilton, she ain't never gonna shave her little Scene Queen head for you.

3. While I honestly disagree with the leftover Blaire White lingo in the only readable screen shot here and simply don't get to voice my opinions on the other one because the person who supposedly still paid Medrano money to spy on her did such a sloppy job in leaking all this private shit for the public to cringe at with no context (again, if this is even supposed to be real and not doctored... ) I can say that while I personally think Medrano is a bit confused with the way she worded this private thing that none of us are supposed to be seeing... I do understand the spirit of this Latina Woman's frustrations when she's trying to speak about white gender expressions in the Queer Community, because it's not just the abled-bodied queers that do this.....

I mean, daily fail source of just the image, for context, aside .. Who in their right minds would look at an in real life image of Ana Mardoll, known "disabled rights activist and advocate and author UWU" and recently outed Raytheon Trust Fund Nepotism Baby .... And not automatically pin Mardoll a "Trender"? And this isn't even getting into what Mardoll did to Isabelle Fall ...

I'm still going to continue supporting Vivienne Medrano despite the shitty proof of blurry non evidence someone finally tried and failed to provide to detract from that, anyway ...

And for the record I still love Medrano... She just probably should've used the term "Tenderqueer" instead of "Transtrender"...

....Although I guess in Mardoll's case we've seen that Medrano technically might have a point and people can be both.

But now I'm just gonna block you and your shitty blurred as fuck and most likely doctored screen shots for being tenderqueer... And I don't give a fuck about Mardolls preferred pronouns ether.

Looks like a white woman to me ...

Perform your gender better or at least get better screenshots to call out all of the presumed TERFs you're still giving money to even access them and can't even prove that much for it. Opps. 🤭

Reminder that vivziepop is very transphobic and we should stop supporting her this pride month!

[youbloodymadgenius]

Happiness is Everything (Modern!Ivar x reader)

A/N: This wasn’t requested; I needed to give my boy some love, and a strong bond with Hvitserk. It’s nothing but a silly comfort fic.

@geekandbooknerd​ - Thank you for beta reading this for me 💖

@zuxiezendler​ - Thank you ���🌸 (and you know why)

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Ivar doesn't want any more set-ups. Hvitserk’s stubborn girlfriend disagrees.

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst due to Ivar’s temper and insecurities; an obvious lack of plot; lack of creativity; fluff+++.

Words: 2575

Stifling a hiss of pain, Ivar flops down on the couch, leaning his crutch against its armrest. 

 "Here." Hvitserk joins him, handing him a beer before gulping a long sip of his. "So, brother," Hvitserk's face is slightly crumpled as he looks at him, "There's a last-minute change." 

 With a tight-lipped expression on his face, Ivar frowns. He hates last-minute changes with a passion. "What are you talking about, Hvitserk?" He asks curtly while massaging his right thigh absently. 

 "Thora will be with us tonight." Hvitserk shrugs, his discomfort obvious. 

 "Okay." Ivar tilts his head, confused. Every Thursday night, he and his brother spend the night together. Usually at Hvitserk’s place, eating frozen pizzas – a lot of them, Hvitserk being Hvitserk. Most of the time, Thora, who enjoys spending time with her friends, leaves them alone. Sometimes she stays home though, and honestly, it's fine. The truth is, he likes Thora. She's smart and funny, and uncomplicated. Sure, he didn't warm to her right away. It took time. But now, it's okay. He probably won't say it out loud, but yeah, he likes her.

 "So…" Raising a brow, Ivar takes a sip of his beer, "It's no big deal." As Hvitserk keeps silent, Ivar scrutinizes him. His brother is clearly nervous and not at ease at all. Ivar slowly licks his lips. "What are you not telling me, brother?" He knows he's right when Hvitserk lowers his gaze.

 "Well…" Hvitserk clears his throat, "She won't be alone."

A wide-eyed look on his face, Ivar snarls, pursing his lips. "What does that mean, Hvitserk?" The icy cold tone of his voice matches his hard stare, his knuckles turning white as he clenches his hands into fists. 

 Hvitserk winces, "You know what it means, brother," before taking a seat in the armchair across from Ivar, the small coffee table between them suddenly highly appreciated. One can never be too careful when facing Ivar's anger. 

 "Are you fucking kidding me?" Clenching his jaw, Ivar bangs his fist on the table, and Hvitserk immediately leans forward, catching his brother's beer just before it falls down. 

 "I'm not, Ivar. Listen, I'm sorry but Tho–"

 Ivar cuts him off, running nervously his hands through his hair. "I can't believe it! Remember the fiasco with Thora's cousin? And then with her colleague? What was her name? Livia? Lisa? See, she didn’t even stay long enough for me to remember. Anyway, I thought I was pretty clear after that, wasn't I? Maybe you and your girlfriend should go and check your hearing, what do you think, hm, brother?" His voice dripping with sarcasm, Ivar gives Hvitserk dagger eyes, his pointer finger tapping the side of his head. "No more set-ups. That's what I said, right? Sounds pretty clear, huh? Do I need to tell it again, brother? Look at my mouth, I wouldn't want you to miss it this time,” He points to his lips then in a sarcastic manner, “No. More. Set-ups. No. More. Blind. Dates." Bottom lip quivering, Ivar, who's boiling mad, struggles to hold back his anger.

 "I know, brother…" Hvitserk swallows, rubbing his hand over his face, "but you know Thora means well, don't you? I briefly met Y/N once and honestly, she seemed nice enough. Plus, Thora's not really setting you up. We'll be together, the four of us, here, just eating pizza, it hardly counts as a date, don't you think?"

 Disgruntled, Ivar heaves an exasperated sigh, his nostrils flaring. "Stop playing dumb, Hvit, and don't tell me you've never heard of double dates!" He stares at his brother, his pupils dilated, shading his eyes darker blue. "Anyway, it doesn't matter." As he reaches for his crutch, a scowl on his face, Hvitserk stands up, his brow furrowed. "What are you doing?"

 "Isn't that obvious?" Ivar mocks him while adjusting his legs in front of him. "I'm leaving!" Shifting his butt forward, he laces his left arm through the metal loop of his crutch, places his right hand on the coffee table, and then slowly hauls himself to his feet, grunting and swearing under his breath. He has a false start, where it seems he's going to fall right back onto the couch, but Hvitserk catches him skilfully, gripping his upper right arm. As soon as he's sure his baby brother has found his balance, Hvitserk releases his arm and Ivar gives him a tight, thank-you smile. 

 Hvitserk barely nods, as if nothing happened. And gosh, Ivar may be mad at him about this stupid set-up-non-set-up thing, but right now he's feeling mostly grateful. His brother not making a big deal out of his struggles never fails to amaze him.

With any other of his brothers, it wouldn't have been the same. 

Bjorn would have looked at him as if he were an utter failure, and then maybe helped him – out of pity, Ivar is sure of that – but not without paternally patting him on the shoulder; or even worse, on the head. The thought makes him cringe and he shakes his head, chasing it away. Bjorn is no longer around anyway, busy traveling around the world with his fourth wife. Or maybe it's the fifth? Ivar lost count a long time ago. 

 Sigurd would have kicked his crutch out from under him while Ubbe would have forced him to sit down, hovering beside him for far too long, afraid he would slip or stumble, or break a bone. Between Ubbe and Sigurd, between plague and cholera, Ivar is honestly not sure which one is better. Or worse. After all, it's all a matter of perspective. 

 Fortunately, Hvitserk – his favourite brother, and it is no coincidence – never treats him differently; never belittles him; never mothers nor smothers him. With him, Ivar feels like he's normal.

 Gratefulness flooding his mind, a pang of guilt suddenly hits him. He knows that if he leaves, he will put his brother in a difficult position. Though his resolve remains unshaken, Ivar puts a hand on his brother's shoulder, and when he speaks again, it's in a softer voice. "Listen, brother, just tell them I cancelled because I wasn't feeling well, okay?"

 Technically speaking, it's not even a lie. Today has been what his beloved mother would have called a 'bad leg day'. The pain coursing through his lower limbs worse and the muscles stiffer than usual, his right leg barely moving due to its swollen joints, he had taken a double dose of painkillers earlier, regrettably with little to no effect.

 "Well, brother," Looking out of the window, Hvitserk grimaces, an uneasy grin on the corner of his lips, "I'm afraid it's too late." 

 As if on cue, the door busts open and a girly chuckle can be heard. Ivar clenches his jaw and tightens his grip on the handle of his crutch. As you and Thora take off your coats and shoes in the doorway, Hvitserk mutters, his mouth on his brother's ear, "Behave Ivar, please. For my sake." 

 Ivar snorts, exhaling deeply. "I'll try." He closes his eyes and, shaking his head, he mumbles, fighting a lump in his throat. "It's… It's not that easy. Fuck Hvitserk, you don't even know…I wish I wasn’t so angry all the time. I… I might have been happy." His voice, barely a whisper at this point, cracks at the end, and he hates himself for that.  

 Astounded, Hvitserk isn't even sure he heard right. There's no time left to ask Ivar to repeat himself though, so he somewhat haphazardly decides to comfort him, nevertheless. "You'll get there, brother." He eventually breathes, still stunned by his brother's unexpected admission.

  "We're coming!!" Unaware of the tension in the room, Thora shouts enthusiastically before crossing it in two long strides. All smiles, she joins the brothers, winking at her lover and squeezing his hand, and gives Ivar a peck on the cheek followed by a wholehearted hug. She then steps away, gesturing toward you as Hvitserk wraps his arm around her shoulders. "Ivar, this is Y/N."

 Reluctantly, Ivar looks in your direction and the moment he sets his eyes on you, his breath catches in his throat and he knows he's screwed. Already smitten. Gods, you're glowing and insanely beautiful. He barely hears Thora's next words. "And Y/N, this is Ivar, Hvitserk's little brother."

 A beaming smile on your face, you wave at him before taking two shy steps forward. "Hello, Ivar." Even your voice is wonderful, sweet, and silky, and he can't help but smile back at you, annoyed with himself for being so weak. 

 Even if he can see the sparkle in your eyes as you look at him, even if your smile is devastating, he knows better. 

 It won't last. It can't.

 For now, standing tall in his brother's living room, he's aware you surely find him attractive. With no false modesty, Ivar knows about his good looks, his huge blue eyes his greatest asset. Of course, you must have noticed the crutch, but the crutch per se is barely a turn-off. You can't see his titanium leg braces, which he stubbornly wears under his pants, even if they often bruise the thin and delicate skin of his calves. You can't see his crippling pain, his struggles. You can't see his distorted bones and his hideous legs. You can't see how disabled, how crippled he really is. But he knows that as soon as he takes a step, you'll get a small glimpse, and then the sparkle will leave your eyes, replaced at best by polite indifference, at worst by pity and disgust. 

 Yet, there's nowhere to hide from the inevitable. So, he decisively closes the gap between you and him, leaning heavily on his crutch, dragging his useless right leg behind him, and eventually standing right in front of you, he extends his hand. "Nice to meet you." His gaze never leaves your face, Ivar awaiting for you to avert your eyes, but you surprisingly don't. And as you reach out and offer him a firm handshake, your smile never falters, the sparkle still dancing in your eyes. 

 *** One year later ***

 You stir and turn toward him, your hand searching and finding his chest, and then lay your head on his shoulder. Groggy with sleep, you just mumble his name, eyes still closed, before letting out a content sigh and Ivar can't help but smile; you're so adorable.  

 Wrapping his arm around your waist, he draws you closer, running his fingers along your back and pressing his lips to your head. Rewarded by kisses in the crook of his neck, his free hand settles on your hip, your skin warm and smooth under his fingertips. "Hi," he greets you and buries his nose in your hair, deeply inhaling your scent.

 "Hi." You eventually mumble with a raspy voice, now peppering light kisses all over his broad torso. "What were you doing, my love?" Your eyes flutter open and, propping yourself up on your elbow, your other hand flat on his chest, you offer him a warm smile. There's so much love in your eyes, it takes his breath away. 

 "I was remembering." Ivar smiles fondly at you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his mouth. "Do you know what day it is?" He asks, gently kissing your knuckles one after the other. 

 "How could I have forgotten?" You scoot even closer, your breast against his chest, your mouth barely an inch from his. "Today is the anniversary of the day we met, my love. That's what you were thinking about?"

 Ivar nods before laying you down on the bed tenderly. He then sits up, running his hands through his hair. "I remember as though it were yesterday, you know? I still can't believe you didn't run away." Sitting behind him, you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, trapping him in your embrace, in your love. "You stayed…", his voice trembles as he gestures to his legs, hidden under the sheets, "… you stayed in spite of… of them…" He swallows loudly and your heart aches.

 Resting your head on his left shoulder, you shake your head. "No, my love, I didn’t stay in spite of your legs, but because of them." 

 Ivar is looking downward but as soon as the words escape your lips, he snaps his head to the side, a frown flitting across his face, and gives you a confused and slightly upset look. "What do you… What do you mean?" He stammers, suddenly tense.

 Shifting in the bed, you carefully straddle him, tilting his chin with a curled finger and forcing him to meet your gaze. "Don't get me wrong, Ivar. I'm not especially attracted to your legs. It's not some kind of weird fetish. I stayed because of what is in here." You put your finger on his forehead, and then over his heart. "And here. But your legs made you who you are. And you're different. A good kind of different. You don't think like other men. That's what I love the most about you. You're unpredictable; you always surprise me. You wouldn't have been who you are without your legs." A gentle hand sliding under the sheets, your fingers graze his scarred skin. "With two working legs, who knows what you would have been. You probably would have been a presumptuous womanizer like Bjorn. Or you might have been as boring as Ubbe; as careless as Hvitserk; as annoying as Sigurd. You are who you are, infuriating, smart, and stubborn, and, I must say, breathtakingly handsome, and I love you exactly the way you are." 

 Ivar just looks at you for a long time, a small smile playing on his lips. Raising his right hand, he cups your face. "Never stop telling me you love me, Y/N. Please..." You never saw him so willingly vulnerable before, and it breaks your heart – you never want him to doubt himself – as much as it fills you with joy – he trusts you enough to share his insecurities with you. 

 You answer him without missing a beat. "I won't. I love you more than my own life. I love you bigger than the sky and its stars, I love you to the moon and back. I love you like I never thought I could. Loving you is a blessing, a precious gift, the meaning of my life. I love you and only you, Ivar Lothbrok."

 Blinking a few times, Ivar heaves a shuddering breath. Tears come to his bright blue eyes and the expression on his face is unreadable; fragile and strong all at once. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it. Staring into space, he seems lost.

 Stroking his cheek, you bring him back to the here and now, back to you, kissing his earlobe, his jaw, his neck, before returning briefly to his mouth. "What is it, Ivar?"

 Your lover shrugs, "Nothing, really," and pulls you closer, his hands on your back, his breath on your face, his manly scent enticing you. "Or more accurately…", he whispers in your ear, "… Nothing, yet everything." 

 Not understanding what he's getting at, you keep quiet, just staring at him, confusion obvious in your eyes. He then offers you a mind-blowing smile, and your heart nearly jumps out through your mouth at his next words. 

 "I may be happy. Actually, I think I am."

 🛡⚔️🛡

@honestsycrets​ @lisinfleur​ @waiting4inspiration​ @saldelys​ @gearhead66​ @inforapound​ @readsalot73​ @milkkygirls​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @shannygoatgruff​ @zuxiezendler​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @hecohansen31​ @lonewolf471​ @ivarthebloodyking​ @fuckindiva​ @tgrrose​ @didiintheblog​ @peachyboneless​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ @ethereallysimple​ @destynelseclipsa​ @coco2315​ @mlchael-guerin​ @pieces-by-me​

[lucysablefan]

alright it's time,,, sweet home 2 review

so,, i don't fully rmbr s1 maybe i'll rewatch it for yoon jisoo bc i love her but,, i did like s2 better

first of all i like that the exposition isn't in your face, i saw some ppl saying there was too much going on bc too many subplots and all and i unkindly disagree i liked the new characters and i like how everything doesn't have to make sense from the beginning you can just figure it out as you watch and i'm a big fan of that

also maybe i'm being silly but i don't see how there were too many plots bc?? it's just ppl facing the end of the world as they knew it and adapting to a new lifestyle, trying to survive and all there's new characters which makes sense bc it's happening in a whole new place and ngl i did think it was a little weird to go from "we're stuck in this building" to we're not really stucjrbut we live in this new place with new ppl and there's outside stuff happening at the same time but when i got used to it it was fine tbh

now when they do the time skip (cw nancy drew war flashbacks) i was a bit confused i had to make sure it wasn't the wrong ep but still not necessarily a bad thing

now before i start and also bc idk where to start i Will say it's a bit weird how they keep killing their disabled characters, yoon jisu also went through it i think it's really interesting to see how she deals with her loss of hearing and it speaks to how exhausted she must have been after everything she went through to survive s1 she goes deaf a'd simply doesn't tell anyone she's like,, ooh a problem for another day getting to a safe place comes first especially with her past and all it becomes all the more heartbreaking now i didn't look into it but park gyuyoung was Booked that year so that might be why they killed off her character still i enjoyed her performance for the few eps where she was still alive

now onto the star of the show lee eunyoo slaying once more but this time in a way that feels more respectable/admirable,, again i don't rmbr much of s1 but in my memory she was mostly just bark not much bite and i'm happy that she started to get more active altho i'm sad that it comes from all the loss she's suffered, her brother who she desperately hopes is alive, her crush (i'm still so confused abt that like i don't understand straight ppl so maybe that's why but their whole thing should have been explored a little more if they wanted me to think of it as romantic) disappeared he could be dead for all she knows, that one sister kid (i'm sorry but i'm too lazy to look up any names rn) and then yoon jisu and that all builds up to her whole murderer misunderstanding + knowing that her reputation also has consequences on ppl she might as well consider family so even tho there's no use trying to convince ppl she's not a murderer there's still smth she thinks she can do which is : isolate herself and try her hardest to bear the blame all on her own. she probably sees a bit of herself in that kid who lost his sister and she tries to make sure he doesn't stray off the right path but really who is she to tell him what to do? and just now i realized this could very well mirror her relationship to her brother, they're not related but they Are family and so she tries to keep him safe doesn't want him to end up like her but she can't replace his sister and he can't replace her brother

now that little guy,, i'm so happy with how he's written. this guy loses his dad and then his sister and he rmbrs being told that if he's bad, bad things will happen but what exactly did he do wrong to suffer so much loss? nothing, and that explains his anger and his rebellion everything that's happened has made him harden now he knows what it is to survive, and he knows abt loss and he knows abt being orphaned and in a way he knows abt loneliness even though he's just a kid so ofc he's mad ofc he's rebelling sure you could think of him as annoying if you want but even then you should still be able to understand why he's become like this and me personally i could never be mad at him

now another kid that i like,, new girl played by kim sia (don't quote me on that tho) i love that she truly is Just a kid, she's a monster from birth which ultimately makes her unique but she was also born from a human mother who then abandons her (tbt to me comparing this to frankenstein) then she's raised by this amazing monster brother and she easily makes friends with other monsters probably also bc of her powers so in her head : monsters = good. she doesn't know much abt humans besides from the fact that she was abandoned by one but then her mother comes back and she's willing to try and understand them, surely if her mother's human then they can't be that bad right? wrong! get abused bc of smth you can't change and aren't responsible for lol l + ratio. after that she gets abused by more humans and her brother goes more or less missing he himself is struggling with his own monster vs. human thing. she ends up regretting giving humans a chance and decides black and white thinking Is the answer for sure : monsters are good and humans are bad. however this isn't enough and she wants revenge, she turns her monster repulsed mother into half (?) a monster. and i can't commend her enough bc yes, if you hate monsters so much, why don't you try being one, and then maybe they can be a real family, her, her mother and her brother.

now the question remains : are humans the real monster?

and from episode 1 sweet home seems to be telling you that, yes, they are. but most especially humans in positions of power. those ppl. dying in that tunnel? killed by military, scared military sure but just a little pause would have made them realize the monster they were facing was in no way harmless, just a parent trying to play hide and seek going so far as to protect someone's child just bc they can relate to that kind of fear. the threat in that moment comes from the humans in charge of ppl's safety, and the ppl who want to be seen as trustworthy protectors end up renouncing the military and the ppl in power who seem to think so little of ppl's lives, we do seem to have a clear villain and that line of thinking starts off strong from episode 1 in a way that almost seems Too brutal but does feel right.

now unto,, yang hyeji,,, my gf,,, and jung yeseul my poor little meow meow,,,, this goes back to the beginning of this rant,, i don't need obvious exposition and i don't need all the information from the get go. jung yeseul gets privilege from her mother being an important person in this new small society and uses it to her advantage why bother with working when she can take it easy? she takes full advantage and i can't blame her, what would i do in her position? idk i'm not in her position. but as time passes you start to see that there's one person she doesn't want to disappoint and it's her mother, why? bc she's not her biological mother, just like she took her in she could easily cast her out, there's nothing she wants more than to be her mother's daughter. now this might alr be theory but i think the person in that one family picture? not jung yeseul but the biological kid instead now that kid is sick so who is the mother protecting? not jung yeseul, she threw her to the wolves easily bc she simply doesn't care, so that leave us with two options : her husband or her kid who could have survived by turning into a monster now jung yeseul who so desperately wanted a mother is faced with this betrayal, she was lied to, she has no one to rely on. does she pull a lee eunyoo or do her friends step up to help? that's smth we'll hopefully find out in s3 and i can't wait for that i am so curious abt her i sant her to betray her mother to prove that she can learn from her and i want more girls supporting girls. i need to see what becomes of jung yeseul in s3.

now lee eunhyuk,, he is there,, good for him don't be too bitchy and just go back to your sister pwease

and those two military guys? yeah they're gay. you can't make me think otherwoser, the evidence is right in front of my eyes. so hopefully they decide that ableism is bad enough and they don't need to add homophobia on top of that and they let them be happy!

that science,, go oh jungse keep being a little freak with your ideas on human evolutions hopefully you have fun and then you die

priest guy? i need to know what his and that other girl's deal is, i love a messy illegal past i hope he dies and she lives but it seems unlikely.

lucysablefan 2023 review

also i didn't get to talk abt my top however many things that i've watched in 2023 and i'm probably going to have to make this into a thread but firdt of all revenant and celebrity are definitely Up There for me from the cast to the story and everything else i was completely into those shows and that's a lot for me bc getting bored halfway into a show is my number one (reluctant) hobby.

i definitely think revenant escaped that partly bc there was no obvious romance plot for me to get bored after they get tgt but even without it being obvious kim taeri and hong kyung tgt in that show was one of the best decision ever made in cinema. kim taeri stuns us once again with her amazing acting + shim dalgi moment s, that was great i'm still not done watching more of her stuff but i really do love seeing her in stuff i'm watching it's always a delightful surprise and she slayed that role like it was written for her so that was great. oh jungse was there too (ig 🙄) and it was nice he did his job and i was sold + yang hyeji moment ! always a blast seeing her in anything (will make another appearance when i talk abt sweet home 2 in this post eventually)

now celebrity,,, amazing drama, i'll be honest at first i wasn't too sold on the influencer plotline but it's a park gyuyoung drama and as a humble lesbian i just had to tune in + lee chungha slay once again, i've loved her ever since vampire detective and this character was amazing for her

anyways i loved the plot, loved the execution, one grievance i have is definitely the fact that seo ari ends up with that loser classist guy intead of yoon sihyeon which was??? like if not for homophobia ik they would have ended up tgt bc seo ari has too much respect to stay with hjk for sure

also one thing i absolutely Have to comment on is that one scene where seo ari ruins her dress and then she goes "i can just pay for it" or smth along those lines and when she realizes what she said she gets a little taken aback? ye that scene birthed me actually bc??? what amazing writing truly just art

also literally the whole cast in that show was just like oh ye i'm an amazing performer and here's proof so that was definitely a treat for the audience (me)

now smth that Didn't come out during that year but i finally watched bc of park sewan (i still haven't finished doona but when i found out she played in it i was like!!!! school 2017 actress moment, idk why i have this weird cast of school 2017 thing but i do and it simply can't be helped) anwz it's!!!! ultimate weapon alice or wth title that you know it by. now i'll be honest the ending? i wasn't thrilled but i also didn't care much for it bc this drama just felt like one where the ending really isn't that important like ye i used to study lit so having an "oh this is a tragedy (shakespeare war flashbacks)" moment is always nice but that's not what this is abt, the sound design (? eng isn't my first language so don't be mean to me) alone makes this show better than average, the writing? impeccable, those imaginary somewhat comedic scenes? right up my alley, every episode was just a treat after another i had a Great time watching it, the characters and their dynamics were truly amazing and the acting was just constantly delivering once again i just love park sewan and i will finish watching doona for her (mostly, i love suzy too ofc <3)

now smty else i watched that i lived this year : enigma. what a show, short but a masterpiece nonetheless and i can't wait for s2 although obv as i was forced to learn through being a cw nancy drew fan, i should always keep my expectations low when the first season is a little too good. also prim won't be there which booooo,, but i'll get over it and i can't wait to see the new charas.

one thing to know abt me : i love visually pleasing stuff and if you play around with format a little bit and add some great mixed media to your show not only am i sold but i'm also telling whoever is willing to listen to go and watch your show i'm easy and i'm not ashamed.

anwz brain no worky anymore so i'll add onto this eventually but don't hold me to that (just rmbrd i have to talk abt sweet home 2 so i Will be back for that hehe)

[planetsam]

“Look if you don’t want her she’s going to the pound,” Wyatt says, “she’s too fat to be of any good on the farm.”

“Do you need to think of the most dickish thing to say? Or does it just naturally come out of your mouth?”

Wyatt’s face screws up but Alex snatches the leash from him before he can say anything. He’s done listening to assholes with the last name Long. On the other end of the leash Buffy regards him with a mix of wariness and disgust. It’s more tempting than Alex would like to admit to shove it back at Wyatt, but his grip tightens on the leash.

“Glad you got a souvenir,” Wyatt sneers and storms off.

Alex tries not to rub the most recent addition to his scar collection and instead looks down at the dog. Buffy whines loudly and the sound matches whatever’s going on his recently repaired gut. Emotionally at least. Physically he’s been given the almost all clear, which for him is good enough. He kneels down and looks at the beagle who backs away.

“Yeah, I get that,” Alex tells her, “do you remember me?” He holds a hand out for her to sniff but she turns her snout up, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He straightens up. Buffy looks in the direction she came from but Wyatt’s long gone. Alex has no idea what to do with a dog, much less a beagle who seems to like him about as much as her owner actually did, but standing in the road with her leash he realizes they’re in the same boat. Both left standing there, wondering what the hell they’re supposed to do now. When he glances down again, Buffy is looking up at him. She’s still reproachful but she hasn’t run and Alex is at a point where he’ll take what he can get.

“You wanna go home or should we go to the pet store first?” He asks. She perks up slightly at that, “pet store it is,” he says, “come on.”

* Since losing his leg Alex has been in several hand to hand situations, gotten kidnapped, discovered aliens and blown up a handful of buildings. He’d say he’s good with his prosthetic. Some days he uses his cane but it’s far and few between. He’s good but he hasn’t had a consistently strong pressure yanking his cane arm walk after walk. And there have been so many fucking walks. Buffy is overweight and though her diet is the main thing, walking helps. It helps one of them at least.

“Buffy, come on,” he says, “heel.”

Buffy huffs, lowers her body and digs in her paws.

Her blatant disregard makes the military man in him seethe. He doesn’t know how one beagle is more difficult to control than than a group of soldiers, but here they are. Buffy does not respect the chain of command. Or maybe she just doesn’t respect him. Alex thinks he’d be used to the universe ignoring what he wants but the manifestation of it in an overweight beagle left behind by a man who manipulated him so openly is a fresh wound on his ruined ego.

“Buffy,” he says.

Buffy puffs herself up and erupts into her signature barks. How such a loud noise can come out of such a small creature is beyond him. Buffy spends a lot of her time napping and laying on her back, but when she gets going it’s impossible to stop or ignore. Alex is used to people staring at him on the street. He’s learned to dismiss the judgement about things he knows he can’t change. For the first time though he gets it. He’s pretty sure he’d cross the street too if he saw what was happening.

“Buffy—“ he starts. She keeps going crazy, “Buffy come on,” he’s got nothing else so he scoops her up again. Immediately she stops barking, “seriously?” He sighs, “you know we’re both supposed to be walking,” Buffy looks over her shoulder at him, “God, fine,” he shifts the weight in his arms and starts walking, “I need the workout anyway.”

“Aren’t you both supposed to be walking?”

Alex turns around to see Michael standing there looking confused. He’s not close enough to hear what he just said, but the fact that it’s the first thing that comes to his mind makes Alex’s chest tight. Buffy gives Michael a look of complete disdain. Michael raises his eyebrows at the dog’s reaction, though Alex is fairly certain Michael is just glad to have an excuse not to look at him. Not that he can fully blame him, not with everything that’s happened recently.

“When did you get a dog?” Michael asks.

“A few days ago,” Alex says, “it was me or the pound,” he explains, “I wasn’t looking to get one.”

“Right,” Michael says slowly.

“Her name’s Buffy,” Alex volunteers. Michael finally meets his eye, arching his eyebrows at him.

“You sure you weren’t looking to get a dog?” Michael asks. Alex looks at him questioningly, “if I had to guess what you would name a dog, Buffy’s pretty high on the list—“

The truth smacks him across the face. Buffy squirms in his arms and he’s all too glad to put her down, even though that means he’s forced to figure out something else to do with his hands. Something that doesn’t involve punching things. All he can do is laugh bitterly at how stupid he is. Laugh and pretend that he doesn’t see the alarm on Michael’s face.

“You okay?” Michael asks. 
“I’m good,” Alex says, shaking his head, “I just realized how much of an idiot I am,” he looks at Michael who looks confused still, “Buffy was Forrest’s dog,” he explains, “he left her behind,” he sighs, “I thought the dog was real.”

“She looks real to me,” Michael says.

“He named her Buffy,” Alex retorts. Michael winces, “like I said, I’m an idiot.”

They both look at Buffy who gives them a look back that says they are both idiots. Alex doesn’t think either of them would disagree after the things that have happened lately. But realizing that there’s a good chance the dog was adopted just to manipulate him is salt in that wound. Not by Forrest necessarily but by someone in Deep Sky.

“Your dog seems to agree,” Michael points out.

“Shit,” Alex mutters looking down at the beagle, then he looks at Michael, “what do you know about microchips?
 “What do I know about what?” Michael asks blankly. 
“I need your help,” Alex says.

It’s got nothing to do with what just happened but Michael goes serious and nods. Alex tries not to be affected by it. Or by how Michael seems committed to being open after months of them lying to each other. 
“Whatever you need,” he says.

There’s a weight to his words that lasts a moment before Buffy decides right there is a good place to go potty.

* “Up you go,” Alex says and gets Buffy onto the table, “good girl.”

Buffy huffs at the compliment but when she spots Kyle she immediately starts wagging her tail. Because Kyle has that effect. He grins and scratches her ears as Buffy rolls onto her back. Alex looks over at Michael who seems surprised by this turn of events. 
“Good thing he wasn’t trying to seduce you,” Michael says, “she’s already fallen for it.”

Kyle looks at him sharply and Michael realizes his mistake with a swear but Alex waves him off. Whether or not there were genuine feelings is an issue for another day. Or another lifetime, if he gets his way. Thankfully neither Michael nor Kyle have made the mistake of suggesting he get rid of the dog in case Deep Sky is spying on him with her. Kyle picks up the device and scans Buffy as best he can until Alex reaches out to help hold her steady. They find the first microchip easily enough. It’s just surprising how easily they also find the second one.

“They put a tracker in the dog?” Kyle shakes his head.

Alex agrees. It seems stupid with all the messed up shit they’ve done, but looking at Buffy with her upturned nose and disdainful glares and imagining her being picked out and named and then used like that makes him ache. Especially if it was in the pursuit of him. It’s not the only thing that’s wrong but Alex has always had a soft spot for animals and it’s the first thing that makes his throat tighten.

“We have to get them out of her.”

“We will,” Michael says, “first lemme make sure they don’t work.”

“It’s not going to hurt her, is it?” Alex asks as Michael reaches out.

Kyle and Michael trade looks and Alex knows his voice sounds odd but the dog’s been through enough. Especially on his behalf. A part of him thinks giving her away might be best but if Deep Sky is still using her then who knows. He could give her away and bring more people into this.

“Alex,” Michael comes around the table and stands next to him, doesn’t say anything when Alex shifts back, “look, it’s not gonna hurt her. I’m going to just disable them. We’ll figure out how to get them out of her after.”

Buffy rolls over and gives Kyle’s hands a lick before she reluctantly belly crawls to Alex. She doesn’t look thrilled about having to come to him, but she sits in between him and Michael and looks at Michael with her usual disdain. It’s not full on affection but Alex appreciates the defense all the same. He looks up at Michael.

“Okay, do it,” he says.

Michael puts his hands on Buffy’s shoulders and focuses. Alex waits for her to yelp or do anything but she just glares at Michael like this is the most ridiculous thing she’s ever been subjected to. He pulls his hands back and blinks rapidly, going a little pale. It’s one of the effects of whatever they did to him, his powers are there but using them takes more effort than it did. No-one knows when they’ll fully return.

“Kyle get the—“

Kyle gets the bin just in time for Michael to puke in it. Buffy flattens her ears and decides she’s done enough comfort one day. She trots back over to Kyle and flops on her back, bracing a paw against his arm so he has maximum access to her belly. Before Alex can think about what he’s doing his hand settles on Michael’s shoulder as he heaves. It’s another sign of how badly he’s fucked up and Michael consenting to it under duress doesn’t make him feel any better. But he forces himself to hold onto Michael’s shoulder as he empties his stomach.

“Shit that sucks,” he mutters, unthinkingly wrapping his hand around Alex’s elbow. Alex doesn’t let go of his shoulder as he wipes the back of his mouth. He looks up at Alex and gives a quick, shaky smile, “I disabled the chips on both, they’re dead,” he says.

“Thank you.”

Michael nods, looking more relieved than Alex is comfortable with at the words. He tears his eyes away to look at the love fest going on between Buffy and Kyle. It’s honestly hard to say whose fallen more for who. Alex pulls away and tries not to focus on how cold his elbow and palm feel without Michael’s signature heat.

“Now we just gotta get them out,” Michael says.

Kyle seems to be aware they are all looking at him intently. He opens his mouth to reject whatever they’re going to say and Buffy whines for him to continue the belly rubs. It’s written all over his face that of all the ways he saw his life going, this definitely wasn’t one of them. He looks down at Buffy.

“Am I still gonna be your favorite?” He asks her.

Buffy huffs.

“I think that’s a yes,” Michael says.

* “Your back hurting?”

Alex winces at the question, he thought he had done a good job of hiding it. The concern is there in Michael’s voice and it’s not well hidden at all. Alex looks over at him, seeing the guilt in his eyes.

“It’s from picking up Buffy,” he says, “she’s having trouble getting on the furniture.”

It’s almost laughable how furniture is so complicated in his house. Alex never thought the height of a seat could make such a difference in someone’s life. The perfect height for him though is apparently too much for his still overweight beagle. His best solution is to pick her up but for all her laziness Buffy isn’t good at staying put. It’s not overly painful but it’s not ideal while he’s still healing.

“Oh,” Michael says.

“She’ll get better,” Alex says, “she just has to lose some weight,” he rolls his shoulder, “and I have to heal.”

“She can’t stay off the furniture?” Michael asks. Alex glares, “just asking!” Michael says holding up his hands, “I never had a pet. I had a foster home where I wasn’t allowed on the couch once, it sucked.”

Alex doesn’t know how Michael can stand to be so casual about things like that. Mentioning something so devastating hasn’t even interrupted his rhythm in eating his fries.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says quietly. Michael acknowledges it with a quick nod, “I want her to be able to go where she wants,” he explains.

“Except maybe the bunker,” Michael points out.

“Okay maybe the bunker,” Alex agrees.

“What about stairs?” Michael asks, “they make stairs for dogs right?” His brow furrows, “your furniture is custom heigh though, right?” Then he perks up, “I can make her stairs.”

Alex almost chokes on his water. Michael’s response to everything was to throw his tools in his bunker and seal it up. Alex isn’t even sure he has the materials to build dog stairs. But it’s the first time he’s seen Michael look excited about building something.

“Are you okay with that?” He asks, “I can pay you.”

“You don’t have to,” Michael says, “if it gets Buffy to stop constantly stink eyeing me we’re good.”

“Just tell me how much they cost,” Alex says after a moment’s consideration.

He texts Michael the asked for measurements.

Michael doesn’t want to be alone with him and Alex can’t blame him. He doesn’t really want to be alone with Michael either. Not yet. It’s not until he hears the truck in the driveway that he even thinks more about it. The truck pulls in, parks and Michael gets out before Buffy starts going crazy. Alex feels a rush of affection for her.

“It’s Michael,” he says, “and he’s already almost inside.”

Buffy still puffs up like she’s done her job and Alex scratches her ears before he opens the door. Michael is standing there with two stairs in either hand and a black bag slung over his shoulder.

“Can I come in?” He asks.

“Yeah,” Alex says, his mouth dry, “of course,” he says, “come in.”

“Thanks,” Michael says. Buffy looks at him and howls. Michael glares, “the hat isn’t negotiable,” he tells her firmly, even as he takes it off and sets it aside.

Michael puts one of the stairs by the couch and hands Alex the other for his bed. Alex puts it down where it is and follows Michael to the back part of the house. Michael drops the bag and picks out a few tools before moving to the trap door.

“What’s all of this?” Alex asks.

“Eh I could tell you didn’t mean it when I said Buffy wasn’t allowed in the bunker,” he says, “so I put something together.”

“You built her an elevator?”

Michael shrugs and goes pink around the ears.

“Yeah I mean I want her to feel welcome,” he says, “and if you gotta hide I know you aren’t leaving her behind.”

Alex looks over at Buffy whose stink eyeing the stairs like she’d prefer to be carried. He wouldn’t leave her behind. He wouldn’t leave Michael behind either but just being alone in the same room is a lot. He doesn’t want to push this. He doesn’t know if Michael feels that as well.

“Can I get you anything?” He offers, “I have lemonade?”

Michael hesitates for a moment. Alex wonders if he’s read this wrong before Michael nods and Alex finds he can breathe again.

“That sounds good,” Michael says, “thanks.”

[avmisworld]

BTS when you hurt yourself:

Kim Seokjin:

The smell in the kitchen was mouth-watering, and you were getting hungrier and hungrier as the seconds passed.

Jin was stirring the pork next you, the meat making sizzling sounds against the hot pan. He was singing some girl group song you didn't recognize, occasionally changing the lyrics or the tune to make you laugh.

You were doing your best to help, which wasn't much, by cutting the onions for the kimchi jiggae. Jin had tried to talk you out of it, since you were a very clumsy person and hated the kitchen, but you were determined to help, although the feeling of regret was growing with every passing second.

The chemical irritant in the onions was causing tears to form in your eyes once again, and you curse under your breath, dabbing at your burning eyes gently with a tissue.

"Y/N? You sure you don't want me to help you with that?"

You turn at the sound of your boyfriend's voice, blinking rapidly in an attempt to make your watering eyes come back to focus, and see Jin staring at you with an concerned expression.

There's a hint of amusement on his face, probably due to your overly sensitive eyes, but he looks mostly worried, the meat momentarily forgotten as he waits for your answer.

Your bottom lip juts out involuntarily, and you can't help but pout at the thought of letting Jin do this alone. As much as you hated cooking, you loved spending time with your lover even more, and making meals together was cute and domestic, everyone knows that.

"No, I'm okay, really. Just a little tears, that's all.", you say quickly, turning back to the onions with newfound energy after waving your hand dismissively at Seokjin.

You can hear your boyfriend sigh audibly, but he thankfully doesn't say anything, going back to his own tasks while you continue to cut the evil white vegetables, ignoring the tears streaming down your face.

Maybe it's because of your less than optimal sight, or your wet hands, or just your bad luck, but somehow, the knife you're holding slips just as you go to cut the last onion, leaving a nasty cut on the back of your hand.

You let out a shout of pain, releasing the wooden handle of the knife from the surprise, and the metal tool goes tumbling down, hitting the marble floor of the kitchen loudly.

"Oh my God! Y/N, are you okay?!?", Jin rushes to you at the speed of light, his slipper-clad feet skidding on the floor as he bolts to you, immediately reaching for your hand.

He lets out a gasp of horror when he sees the bright red of the blood streaming down your hand and to the floor, dripping steadily, and his brown eyes widen comically as he rushes you the sink to wash your hand.

You let him turn on the silver faucet, the cold water streaming steadily and calming the burn of the cut, and you sigh in relief, gently scrubbing your hand under the warm water, while Seokjin goes rushing to medicine cabinet, muttering incoherent things under his breath.

"Jin, I'm fine, it's not as bad as it looks.", you say in an attempt to calm down your boyfriend, who's currently throwing pills and syrups all over the place, probably looking for your stash of bandages.

Your boyfriend doesn't even answer, simply shooting you a death glare before continuing to search for the band-aids, and you sigh dejectedly, turning off the stream of water and walking over to the man.

You stand next to Soekjin silently for a few seconds, watching as he continues to pour around medical supplies until he finally finds what he's been looking for, letting out a victorious sound as he lifts up the small package of bandages.

He takes one out, wrapping the soft white material around your injured arm gently, as he holds your wrist delicately with his other hand, making sure you won't move.

You feel your heart beat harder when you see the focused look in your boyfriend's eyes, so intent on making sure he fixes you up perfectly.

His dark eyebrows are furrowed low over his chocolate eyes, his plump pink lips jutting out slightly in concentration.

The love you feel at the moment is overwhelming, and you can't help but run your fingers through his disorganized brown hair, smoothing it under the palm of your hands as you continue to stare at him.

Jin doesn't say anything, simply sighing again, and you know he's pissed. After all, he told you multiple times to be careful, even suggested to replace you, but you disagreed, and now you hurt yourself.

"I'm sorry", you whisper, focusing on your hands in Jin's hair, although you can clearly feel his eyes on you. "I just wanted to help. But I guess I really don't have a place in the kitchen".

You feel like a failure and a burden, and you guess Jin can feel it too, because there's slim fingers wrapped around your chin, pulling your face up to look at him.

"It's fine, baby. I was just worried for you. You know how stressed I am seeing you get hurt, right?", Jin asks softly, eyes boring into yours as he presses the palm of hand to your cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb.

You feel a soft smile form on your face when Jin presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and then another one to your bandaged hand.

"Now stay here, and I'll go finish cutting that onion, yeah?", Jin says as he gets up, walking over to the kitchen, and winking cheekily at you. "Maybe now the food will be ready today."

Min Yoongi:

It's summer again, which means you have to reorganize your closet. You dreaded this day for so long, too lazy to waste your time on such a trivial thing, but enough is enough.

Sighing dramatically, you fold another pair of long jeans and place them on the growing pile of winter clothes on the edge of your bed.

"What's with the long face?", your boyfriend, Suga, asks you from his side of the bed, amusement laced in his tone as your frown deepens even more, folding yet another pair of pants.

He's not really doing anything, just laying on your bed with his phone, probably scrolling through some work related documents, but you know the real reason he's here is to keep you company. If he actually wanted to work, he'd be in his studio, but your boyfriend knows how much you hate cleaning your closet, and he'd probably offer to help too if he'd know anything about sorting clothes.

He's wearing his favorite dark blue hoodie, it's sleeves long enough to cover his hands, and dark gray sweatpants. His hair is matted to his head from laying on the pillow for too long, black strands framing his pale face in weird angles, and his eyes are half-closed as he stares at his phone, slowly drooping downwards.

They do open, though, the second you grab a big pile of perfectly folded short-sleeved shirts, and clumsily climb on Yoongi's office chair, in order to reach the high shelves of the closet with your short height.

"Ya! Be careful when you're standing on the chair. Don't fall.", Yoongi warns you, his eyes completely focused now as you stand on the chair unbalanced, holding the swaying pile of clothes in your arms tightly.

You try to assure your lover you'll be okay, but the pile of clothes is effectively covering your mouth and whole face, so you simply nod, hoping he'll understand the gesture.

Placing the pile on the shelf, you turn around happily, smiling at Suga widely, but just as you're about to come down, your foot slips from the soft black padding of the chair, and you fall on your butt against the carpeted floor of your room with an 'oof'.

"Jesus Christ!", you hear your boyfriend yelling at the background, but you're too shocked to notice. There's footsteps heading towards you and then in a second you're in Suga's arms, who's holding you tightly to him while muttering curses under his breath.

"I told you, I fucking told you- Damnnit", he mumbles, not letting you move an inch from your spot on his lap as he checks you for any serious injuries.

But you don't even feel the sharp sting in your tailbone, too focused on the fact that your beautiful, perfectly organized, pile of clothes somehow fell with you.

"Shit- Baby, why are you crying? Does it hurt a lot? Should I call an ambulance?", Yoongi's asks, frantically wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks with his calloused thumbs, but you simply shake your head in response, letting out a choked sob.

"Yoongs- My clothes-", you sniff, pointing at the used-to-be pile miserably, your bottom lip wobbling as you recall the hours of hard work, all dissipating in a second.

Your boyfriend seems confused for a moment, following your gaze, and you watch as his expression changes from confusion to understanding, and finally, disbelief.

"You're unbelievable.", he finally mutters, but you can feel the way his hands slightly relax against your waist, and he doesn't push you away when you cling to him even more, burying your wet face in his neck and whining about how you'll never fold another piece of clothing in your life.

Jung Hoseok:

"And for the next step, just-", your boyfriend spins around gracefully, feet whirling so fast you can hardly see them anymore, and you blink, not quite registering the move.

Hoseok is dressed for dance today, with loose white Alladin pants and an oversized sleeveless brown top, his sneaker shining white against the floor of the practice room.

His wavy caramel hair is tucked under a white cap, cute curls popping out of the sides, and he's barefaced, his golden shining under the florescent lights above you.

Hoseok had told you he was going to the studio to practice some new choreography he was working on, and you had suggested coming with him. You also suggested he taught you the dance, although you didn't expect it to be this hard.

You weren't a horrible dancer, for someone who never even participated in a Zumba class, but next to THE J-hope, you were practically disabled.

You clear your throat, tugging slightly on the hem of your black tank top, and think of any way to do something even remotely similar to this move without looking ridiculous.

As if he sensed your thoughts, your boyfriend's smile grows and he lets out a short chuckle, leaning down to peck you on your nose quickly.

"Hey, it's no biggie, yeah? This is just for fun.", he says gently, moving back to look into your eyes with his own twinkling brown ones.

You nod, putting on your most serious face, and start the dance from the top, your shoes making awkward sounds against the waxed floor, nothing like your lover's smooth footsteps.

'And then just squat, jump back up, and turn-'

Your ankle twists and you let out a shout of pain as you fall down, legs crossed over each other awkwardly and face contorted in pain.

"Oh God, Y/N, baby, are you okay?"

J-hope's by your side in a split of a second, helping you up gently with his hands around your waist, steadying you.

You feel yourself blush with embarrassment, cheeks flaming hot as you try to stand on your own, wincing slightly when a bolt of pain runs from your right ankle to your leg.

"I think I twisted my ankle.", you say miserably, letting J-hope half-carry you to the leather couch at the edge of the large room, his one arm wrapped around your waist tightly while the other is holding your hand.

Hobi helps you clamber onto the couch, before sitting next to you and lifting your hurt leg gently, his fingers running over the jut of the bone with a feather light touch.

"I don't think it's broken, thank God.", he mumbles, eyes wide with worry as he tries to look for any sign of serious damage. "But maybe we should go to the hospital, anyway."

You shake your head quickly, finding the situation more and more embarrassing with every passing second. "No, no, it's okay, babe. It'll pass in a few.", you promise, interlocking your hands with J-hope's and sending him a smile, hopefully confident and not full of pain.

"I'm sorry, this is all my fault. I shouldn't have let you do that-", Hoseok starts, voice full of sorrow and regret, but you cut him off immediately, shaking your head with fervor.

"None of that, Hobi. I wanted to learn the dance, and I was the one who asked. It's not your fault you got a clumsy baby for a girlfriend.", you say jokingly in an attempt to lighten the mood, squeezing your intertwined hands softly.

Your boyfriend lets out a giggle, and you feel relief flooding through your chest when the familiar glint returns to his eyes, along with the toothy smile you love so much.

Hobi smiles, leaning forward to press the softest of kisses against your lips, his lips warm like the summer against your own, melting something in your heart.

"My baby".

Kim Namjoon:

You don't even flinch at the sound of glass shattering against the floor of the kitchen. Unfortunately, you were already used to things breaking, considering you lived in the same house with the clumsiest person on earth.

Groaning loudly, you get up from your comfortable spot on your maroon colored couch in the living room, slipping on your soft lavender slippers and padding over to the kitchen.

Namjoon's standing by the gray marble counter, a sheepish smile growing on his face when he sees your done expression.

He's wearing his signature clothes at home: a simple olive green t-shirt and black sweatpants. His hair is combed, strands of light pink carefully pushed away from his forehead, and there's embarrassment tinging his soft brown eyes as you lean against the doorway, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry, baby", he says awkwardly, still sending you a smile as he rubs the back of his head nervously, messing up his hair slightly. "I just wanted a cup of water".

You sigh, but still walk towards your boyfriend, who's looking at you with slight confusion when you place your hands on his broad shoulders, pushing him towards the living room gently.

"Go to the living room before you break anything else, okay? I'll clean this up.", you say gently, your voice teasing as your lover looks at you with guilt in his eyes.

"Are you sure? I can organize here", he suggests hesitantly, clearly unsure if it's a good idea himself.

You smile and lean forward to kiss his cheek quickly, trying to show it's okay, you're used to cleaning up his messes, and it doesn't bother you at all. Honestly, the fact that Namjoon, with all his mature persona, was such a clumsy baby was rather indearing, in your opinion. "It's no biggie, I promise."

Your boyfriend smiles again, this time wider and more sincere, and leans forward to place a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, making your cheeks blush slightly. "Thank you, baby".

You look away shyly, glaring at RM playfully when he lets out a small chuckle at your cuteness, and push him once again towards the exit, watching as he walks towards the couch, waiting for you to finish and proceed with your movie night as planned.

You examine the shattered blue pieces of what was once a glass pitcher, now scattered all over the parquet floor of your kitchen. Your boyfriend probably was planning to fill the pitcher again when it fell, so at least there wasn't water on the floor, as well.

You decide to pick up the big pieces of glass first, and then sweep the smaller shards using a broom.

Squating over the glass pieces, you pick them up carefully, making sure you dispose all the broken glass into the garbage can before picking up more.

But when you bend down to pick another piece, you somehow slip, your knee coming to contact with the floor, straight on a sharp piece of glass.

You hiss when the glass gets stuck in your skin, blood already dripping down your leg in small red drops, but you react quickly, taking out the piece of glass without hesitation and throwing it to the trash before getting up and limping out of the small room.

"Hey, babe, should we wat-"

Namjoon's eyes widen when he sees the cut on your knee, quickly jumping to his feet, almost falling on his face in his hurry to get to you.

Despite his first reaction, your boyfriend seems to understand what happened without even asking, quickly leading you to the bathroom to wash your leg, the cut already hidden from the eye with the amount of blood covering it.

You let Joon wash your leg gently, his hands gentle against your skin, careful not to hurt you with his touch.

"Well, I guess you're not the only clumsy one", you say with a sigh, watching as the man in front of you applies some sort of healing ointment to your cut, quickly covering it with a band-aid.

"I'm sorry, love, I should have done it myself", Namjoon says with sorrow, and you feel guilty for making him feel this way, immediately reaching forward to grab his cheeks with your hands, forcing him to look up at you.

"Hey, none of that. I wasn't being careful enough, it was obvious something like this would happen.", you assure the pink-haired man sweetly, squeezing his cheeks together until his lips pucker out, making you let out a giggle as Namjoon rolls his eyes slightly, pulling away from you to intertwine your hands.

"Plus, if I cut myself, I'd probably be taking you to the hospital right now if it was the other way around."

Park Jimin:

Surprise date nights were always extremely nice, especially when your boyfriend was Park Jimin.

You sigh when you stick the key into the wooden door of your apartment, exhaustion seeping through your bones. You were tired after a long day of working at the office, and all you really wanted to do was change into your PJ's and cuddle with your boyfriend all night.

Pushing the door open slowly, your eyes widen at the unexpected sight in your living room. Instead of seeing a drowsy Jimin sitting on the couch, maybe napping, in his soft wool sleepshirts and messy blonde hair, your shared apartment is rather dark, the only light coming from candles scattered around the room.

The small circular kitchen table is set for two, shiny white plates glistening under the flickering lights of the candles, the metal utensils carefully placed by each plate, along with two glasses of wine and silk napkins.

There's an amazing smell as well, and you suspect that Jimin had made your favorite dish: Samgyeopsal. Considering your boyfriend never really like cooking, it warmed your heart to think he put so much effort for this surprise.

Just before you open your mouth to call Jimin, the only missing piece in this perfect scenery, you hear his voice behind you, coming from the second entrance to the living room, where your bedroom is.

"Welcome home, baby", the honey voice you love so dearly says softly, and you turn around to see your boyfriend smiling at you with the galaxy in his eyes.

He's wearing a soft blue shirt, falling loosely around his lean body, but not hiding at all his strong chest and biceps. His blonde hair is brushed without too much thought, looking soft against his fair skin, and you desperately want to run your hands through the long strands.

His face is just a little puffy, his plump lips curved into the prettiest grin, white teeth shining even more under the dim light, and his eyes are twinkling like clumps coal, almost disappearing above his mochi cheeks.

"Jimin!!!", you don't hesitate to run to your boyfriend, wrapping your hands around his small waist tightly, "This is amazing. Thank you so much.", you mumble into the soft cloth of his top, pressing your cheek to his chest, where you can feel the steady beat of his heart.

The man holding you laughs sweetly, placing one hand on your waist and the other on the back of your head, stroking your hair gently. "You're welcome, sweetheart".

Jimin places a soft kiss on your lips, before pulling away and intertwining your hands, your fingers organizing themselves naturally besides each other as he leads you to the table.

There's a single candle in the middle of the table, this pretty wax candle with small white stars decorating it on the outside, standing tall on the spotless white tablecloth.

As Jimin goes to bring the food, you pick up the candle from the table, planning to move it somewhere else to make room for the food, when a drop of melted wax falls from the edge of the candle to your hand.

You somehow manage to keep holding the candle, despite the burn against your skin, quickly blowing out the candle and placing it on the marble counter.

Jimin was just bringing the food when he sees your pained expression, and his eyebrows furrow with worry as he places the food on the table and rushes to you, where you're cradling your arm to your chest.

"The candle melted on me", you explain, letting Jimin take your hand in his, his frown deepening even more at the sight of the red patch of skin, your sensitive body already reacting to the burn.

"You should really put something on this", Jimin says worriedly, tugging his bottom lip between his upper teeth as he inspects the forming rash.

You let your boyfriend take you to the medicine cabinet, watching with slight amusement as he stares at the different ointments with confusion, looking for the right one for some time before finding it, sending you an apologetic smile.

He carefully applies the paste to your hand, sending you looks every few seconds to make sure he isn't hurting you, and wraps your hand in a bandage, before pulling you in for a hug, so you're seated in his lap on the floor, straddling him.

"I think I'll stick to led candles next time", he says with laughter in his voice, his body shaking against yours as he giggles, lips pressed to the space between your shoulder and neck. "I love you, beautiful."

Kim Taehyung:

You don't know how you always find yourself in this situation, with Taehyung on top of you, pinning you down easily with his strong body.

He's sitting on your thighs, holding your wrists together above your head with one large hand, while the other is traveling up and down your sides, his thin fingers skimming over the most sensitive parts of your body: below your ribs, above your belly button, in your armpits.

Tears gather in your eyes as you thrash in your boyfriend's hold, desperately trying to get away from the torturing hands. Your begging seems to reach dead ears, though, because Taehyung doesn't even lessen his grip on you, despite your cries and choked shouts for mercy.

You have to admit that you were the one who attacked your boyfriend first, jumping on him when he was peacefully lying in bed, scrolling through his Instagram without a care in the world. But in your defense, your lover has no right to ignore you for the sake of his phone.

The 'oof' Taehyung had let out when you jumped on him had been hilarious at that second, but the laugher was short lived when you saw the devilish smirk forming on your boyfriend's handsome face, replacing the surprise and the slight pain from before.

And now you were here. With Tae above you, killing you slowly with his cursed hands, looking annoyingly hot, even so early in the morning, with his curly black hair and his melanin skin, shining even brighter than the sun outside.

His face is still a little puffy from the morning, eyes still a little droopy with sleep, yet he still manages to win you so easily, even when you're giving all you got, and that pisses you off.

Thinking quickly, you put all the energy you have left to lift your upper body from the soft matress of the bed, and you watch with satisfaction when Taehyung's smug face turns into one of surprise as you flip the two of you, so you're on top now, straddling him with your legs on either side of his body.

Not wasting any time, you pick up the closest object to you, which happens to be a soft feather pillow, before slamming it into Tae's face with a shout, and leap off of him in the speed of light straight after, sprinting down the hall.

You squeal when you hear the crazed laughter of your boyfriend behind you, and you run even faster, the hallway of your apartment flying by in a flash as you reach the living room.

Too immersed in running away from your terrifying boyfriend, you don't even notice one of Taehyung's many slippers, constantly lying around your house, and your eyes widen a second too late, slipping and falling straight on your back.

"Oh, you've done it now-", Taehyung stops mid sentence, skidding to a stop when he sees you sprawled on the (thankfully) carpeted floor, his smile switching to an expression of confusion.

"Ouch", you say miserably, pushing yourself up to a sitting position as you rub your back with a pout. The fall wasn't that bad, thanks to the cream-colored carpet you landed on, but it still wasn't pleasant.

"Are you okay?", Taehyung asks you, crouching next to you, and your frown deepens when you notice your boyfriend pursing his lips in a poor attempt to hide his smile.

"Ya, it's not funny", you whine, but you don't push your boyfriend away when he picks you up in his arms easily, carrying you bridal style towards your room.

"Pabo", Taehyung says teasingly, pressing a sweet kiss to your nose, "That's what you get for trying to run away from me".

Jeon Jungkook:

Being Jeon Jungkook's girlfriend meant working out. Alot. Not that you've never worked out before you met him, but being just as competitive as Jungkook, you couldn't just let your boyfriend be the active one between the two of you.

Which is why you were now standing in the gym of your shared apartment, in your favorite gray Nike leggings, transperent from the knee down, a simple black sport bra, and matching black sneakers.

Your hair is pulled into a tight ponytail, and you're watching your boyfriend, who's currently running on the treadmill.

Jungkook looks good, even with the sweat trailing down his face and soaking his shirt (maybe it made him even hotter). His black hair was matted to his face, strands of it hanging over his eyes, and his dark eyes were squinted, focused on the clock in front of him.

His simple white tank top was completely stuck to his body, a bit transperent thanks to his sweat, and you could clearly see his abs, clenching and unclenching with every step he took.

With a final huff of exertion, the treadmill stopped, and your boyfriend collapsed against it, leaning on it as if it was the only thing keeping him alive.

"You crazy muscle pig. You keep getting stronger and stronger", you say teasingly, but your voice is filled with admiration. Jungkook never stopped surprising you, just when you thought he couldn't get better.

Your boyfriend smiles weakly as you make your way to him, still not having enough energy to respond, and you stop in front of him, handing him his water bottle and cleaning his face gently with a soft white towel, absorbing the sweat.

"Thanks", he manages to let out, lifting the water bottle to his mouth and gulping it down in mere seconds, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after.

Staring at your boyfriend, you make a decision, thinking for a second before saying: "I want to add ten minutes to my time".

At that, Jungkook looks up at you, his eyebrows raised slightly. "Are you sure?", he asks hesitantly, clearly not wanting to make you feel weak, but also worrying for you. "You run long enough as it is".

"Well", you shrug, slinging your own towel around your shoulder. "You added more time today. I got to up my game, you know?", you say jokingly, but Jungkook doesn't laugh, still looking concerned.

"I'll be fine", you say, pushing Jungkook off the treadmill gently. "You're here if anything happens", you remind him.

Jungkook opens him mouth to say something, probably to try to convince you, but you shoot him a quick look to shut him up, and get on the large machine before he can protest.

You start running, and it's fine at the beginning. After half an hour your legs start to burn and your breathing is heavy, echoing in the room. Usually, you'd end here, but you decided to do forty five minutes today, and with your current speed, it wasn't easy at all.

10 minutes left. Your eyes are burning and there's no more air in your lungs. But you have to keep going, you can't lose to Jungkook.

5 more minutes left. Your legs wobble. You can hear your boyfriend call out your name, concerned. Your eyes are half-shut, head spinning, you see Jungkook ten times instead of one.

"Y/N!!"

Your eyes open. You're in Jungkook's lap, who's staring at you with frightened eyes. Your hair is wet, water dripping down the side of your face steadily. Jungkook must have poured water on you to wake you up.

"Shit, are you okay?", Jungkook asks, pushing the hair away from your face, the palms of his hands burning like fire against your skin. "I have to call an ambulance, shit-"

"No, don't, I'm fine", you protest, managing to sit up in Jungkook's lap. "I just pushed myself to the edge, that's all", you promise, grabbing a nearby water bottle and downing it down in two gulps.

Jungkook shakes his head, still looking frantic, and you grab his cheeks, forcing him to look at you in the eye.

"I'm fine", you whisper, "I'm fine, Jungkookie. I guess it's still hard for me to understand that my boyfriend is unbeatable in all things, especially sports", you say with a sarcastic roll of your eyes, and Jungkook finally smiles, breathing out a sigh of relief and pressing his forehead to yours, just breathing you in.

"Can you say that again loudly, so I'll record it for the future?"

[berserksweg]

Quick PSA

hey there, so some of you guys probably like fanfic. Some of you even might comment on fanfic. Please do in fact. But there is a wrong way to do it. Specifically when requesting a certain type of story.

Recently I got a weird message about my Berserk Happy AU.

Now, I don’t exactly take requests anyways. I don’t mind hearing them, in fact I find them interesting even, but I probably won’t write it if only because it doesn’t inspire me. I’ve gotten requests for ships I don’t like and both of us were civil and that was that.

And to be fair to this person, I’ve been egging them on just a bit because I’m bored. Honestly I should just block em or stop responding, however the psychology of it is interesting to me. Like, why would you read and entire story about a couple you don’t like? Just so you could tell me I’m wrong and my story is dreadful?

So then this person makes this whole long thing about how Casca is a victim, and Miura is a misogynist, which comes out of nowhere to me.

So at this point I’m confused and wondering if this person has a metal disorder or something. After the “I’m reading Berserk still because of a ship” comment I go and check her account to see who I’m dealing with and lo and behold the bio says she’s like 16 (in Korean way of counting, so like actually 15 or 14) and everything makes a little more sense.

Any way, at that point I’m getting bored of the interaction, because it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. And also, this is a kid and possibly mentally disabled person, and like, it’s starting to feel a little mean. They stopped responding after my albeit cheesy golden rule line (or I stopped responding? idk, the interaction ended there) and maybe learned something about kindness.

Agree or disagree with this person about Berserk, I hope you all agree that this isn’t how you should comment on a fanfic. No one’s your “enemy” because they ship something different from you. If you don’t like a ship, don’t read it. simple as that.

I feel like this should be obvious to everyone, and considering this is the first message of the sort to get to me, this is just some fluke. I’m optimistic of that in fact. I’ve just been reeling from this because it’s the first time I’ve gotten something so incomprehensible.

[brokenheartsandtwistedminds757]

Please watch this if anyone crushed your dreams or never believed in you, if you ever felt lost and still do... Lord please help me find my purpose my calling my dreams , if you don't even know who you are bc you lost yourself or sense of self to someone or to an external source and in silence you can't sit with the your own self bc you are not connected with yourself within and so confused as to do next... I am ADHD . I was on second in about to skip it to distract myself with something else and for some reason I watched and laughed and I've been in a rut in writing and being in touch with my own soul with the inner child I suppressed and was repressed bc I was the black sheep, the misunderstood, the outcast, I too have a love for Albert Einstein, I too have a learning disability and recently lost my voice to domestic violence for 15 yrs and I made someone my everything and now left with nothing, and I see why I needed to broken hearted by a twisted mind bc now I free to explore and discover what my potential can be, and no wonder i was delusional bc I am truth seeker and I felt always uncomfortable, anxious and it's bc I was not allowed to be or able to express myself the authentic person I am.

" I used to wait for the newspaper, to wait for my dad to finish and so I can then cut out the funny comics like Garfield the cat and I used to laugh and then I ventured in to drawing " I drew Garfield and was so proud of it and my father said " you need to practice more it it's that good "

Little did he know: today this day he has no clue how that one sentence, killed and ahattwred my drive and imagination to dream; I believe of what Steve Harvey Said. Education isn't everything even though society tells us so, but obviously with what's been happening in the present time, I am glad I'm that black sheep of the family bc now I have the opportunity to change my ancestry, and tell my daughter with true ethusiam that her artwork is amazing and I encourage her to color outside the lines even though as we color together as an adult: me drawing inside the lines and my 4 year old just scribbling all over th page with colors out of random and triggered my OCD & in that moment I almost did something to her by words is killing her will to learn and have fun by almost " correcting " her to " color inside the lines and use the accurate colors " smh. In that moment as I had a flashback and I never drew again and even if I did doodle I would never show it to anyone in fear of it not being accepted but again Im thankful For being misunderstood bc after watching this video and diving deep of soul searching; I realized too, I am not supposed to fit in, it's the rebels without a cause that change the world but are labeled and judged as we are standing in line waiting for or prescription meds by a phyaiciatrist who has seen you since 18 and yet being now (--) of age still doesn't know your name. Maybe I was crazy for doing the same things expecting different results by changing myself externally to be accepted by people who I cared for and didn't aswell, now I know why age of 9. I want to die ? Nothing is more miserable than holding in your ability to express urself in any format bc I was made to believe anything I did or said was silly or stupid. I didnt know my root of all the circumstances and consequences of those I am suffering and surviving at the same time that I AM WORTHY, if it was one thing to note : ( I was the sperm tadpole to make it in the egg first ?) ;) I know this is all over the place but I usually would select-all-copy+paste to my UNSENT/UNSEEN MESSAGES / Or ADHS : verbal vomit. But fuck it. It is what it is. HAVING SUCH A MIND FULLY purging of thoughts and ideas that were repressed aswell as the insecurity and self conscious Ness that led to disablitating social anxiety which I proud I can even admit that on a social media sites bc most of mine is of Albert Einstein image and everything set to private bc thinking I would be a burden to " friends" / family/ strangers....I want to be an advocate for ADHD AND hopefully change the damn abrievation to EFDD. Just remember , I'm aware I'm not always be on the same page as the rest. (Ha! Or even the same chapter as someone for my age "/ who makes these unofficial societal rules that is bullshit to its finest ) if you made to this point well you are ADHD yourself and can relate or something resonated with you to intrigue your interest, my phone is so hot I think it's about to explore or possibly crash with my luck, but I just want to say, think or don't think outside the box, color within or outside the lones, it really just doesn't matter after all we have to side of the brain the the left and the right? No more hiding or fear of decideding! JUST BE U, Or else once by THE TIME U figure out what you want or who you want to be IN life or what ur dreams are; You already be six feet under. So disregard into the COVID-19 But with all respect and rip to all and their loved ones but get off your phone & go climb a tree. We are th wild ones, the free spirits and the light workers or the world to help / heal other of humanity's wounds, let's all disagree to agree that even though I will most likely continue to be on my phone after I post, I'm just going to to say at least I can feel free to speak my truth and can care less if this makes sense or has many grammertical errors or no commas lol. When I press that blue post button just know I for once was able to exhale.....

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Hello I'm not sure if you're taking prompts as of late, but I really love the way you write angst and tackle the supercorp rift. Arc!Lena is so satisfying to read and Lena being understanding is so tiring. So if you have the time or like the idea, will you please write about a Supercorp Soulmate AU where people only realize they're soulmates after a certain moment? Would love to see your take on them finding out they're soulmates after Season 3, maybe even during an accidental identity reveal.

A/N: Maybe not what you were looking for, but technically you specify why KIND of soulmate au you wanted, so this is the soulmate fic that happened. Hope you like it anyway!

Lena gets her first note on her tenth birthday. She’s been writing on her skin for years, hoping to get a response, but this is the first time she’s gotten one.

The one she writes is simple:

I’m ten years old today.

Lena scrawls the note on her forearm. Her father has gifted her with an ornate ballpoint pen, its ink smooth and the casing metallic. It sits heavy in her hand as she waits, staring at her arm for a response to materialize on her skin.

Nothing has yet, in the countless times she’s tried before. But today is her birthday.

Maybe, today will be different.

But her arm remains bare, and Lena endures dinner alone with no response. Lex doesn’t care about soulmates. He already wrote to his that they can keep their words to themselves. Lena craves it– a soulmate was a bond she was born with. They would have to like her, and all the things that made her odd.

She’s in bed and half-asleep when her palm fills with a strange prickle that focuses into the dull pressure of pen on skin.

Happy birthday

For the first time since her mother died, Lena cries.

That first message isn’t punctuated, nor are any of the stilted, lopsided notes that follow. They look like they belong to a first grader. Lena wonders if that’s why it took so long for her to get a message. Maybe her soulmate is younger, or has a learning disability. Lena doesn’t care. She’s just glad she has one.

Her very own soulmate.

The messages quickly grow neater, and the spelling improves… a little. Rather than youth or disability, Lena deduces that english isn’t her soulmate’s first language. They learn quickly, but much of their early exchanges read like a tutoring session.

What does moron mean?

It’s a derogatory term for someone who isn’t smart.

The words all fade and her arm remains bare for long minutes before her soulmate responds.

What’s derogatory.

Lena doesn’t mind the endless questions. She likes sharing knowledge, even if that knowledge is simple vocabulary. By Christmas, their handwriting smooths and the exchanges grow to more than just grammar and word use.

Where are you? Lena asks one day.

On the beach. Where the sand meets the water.

Alone in her room in an empty dormitory, Lena imagines the beach would be quite lovely. Even the cold dreary ones like they have on the northern coast. She wonders if her soulmate is on one of those, or a beach in the tropics, skin dark and glowing.

Why are you the only one I can write to this way? her soulmate asks. It doesn’t work with my sister.

We’re soulmates. And in case her soulmate doesn’t know what that means– Fate chose us to share a bond. It can only exist between two people. No one knows exactly why.

So we’ll marry one day?

Maybe. If we want to. Many do.

There’s a long pause, and Lena assumes her pen pal has gotten distracted. She returns to her book, but only stares at the words instead of reading them.

When the words resume, it’s with new knowledge.

My sister says it’s because we share a soul. Two halves of a whole.

Lena grimaces, but hesitates before writing back. I disagree. Two whole souls, that match.

People lose their soulmates. Sometimes they never meet. They can choose someone else. Those people still find love, and live happy, complete lives. Soulmates are a joining, stronger together.

I like that better, comes the response. Punctuated by a doodle of a small smiling face.

Lena thinks she might love her soulmate already.

At sixteen, they’re best friends. They write constantly, to the point Lena is reprimanded for distraction in class, but by then it doesn’t matter. She’s set to graduate, and graduation day is when they’ve chosen to reveal themselves.

In between doodles and pronouns, they’ve dubbed each other Stranger. It was funny at age twelve, and it’s held in the years since. There isn’t any rush, and names mean little to the conversations they share. And, if Lena is being honest with herself, she likes having someone who cares for her without knowing who she is.

The day she walks the stage, Lena itches to pull pull out her pen and confirm the deed is done. That the time has finally come. But it’s too public: people are suddenly going to miss her now that they’re all spreading to the winds, and voices pull her every which way.

She wants calm, and quiet, to learn the most important facts of her life.

It never comes. Her mother doesn’t attend the ceremony, but does come to collect her. What worries Lena more is that her brother is absent from both.

“There’s been an accident,” her mother informs her as soon as she climbs into the car, still in her cap and gown. Lena sits, stunned, sure that whatever it was, Lex has been caught in it.

The truth is worse.

The FBI believe Lex is responsible for the bombing in Metropolis, and have him picked up for questioning before Lena reaches the manor. She waits days for him to come home, but they arrest him from the interview room. He doesn’t return to the manor.

It’s just her, her mother, and the lawyers that suddenly seem to live in their drawing room.

Lena is so distracted that she doesn’t notice the lack of communication from her pen pal, until almost a week later a scrawled, jerky note presses into her skin.

My father’s dead.

Her soulmate is adopted, but she loves the family that took her in, and the evidence of her grief is etched in the jagged lines of the letters, and the stuttering shake of their manifestation.

He was in Metropolis.

Bile rises in Lena’s throat.

Caught in the explosion.

After a week of stunned apathy, tears finally rise to Lena’s eyes. The words blur and fade, and Lena feels empty for the first time since her tenth birthday.

I don’t know what to do.

Lena does the only thing she can think to do. She reaches for a pen, and scratches out the two words that fill her ears like thunder.

I’m sorry.

Contact lessens after that. Lena can’t find any words to send, and the ones that come to her skin don’t invite response.

The service was beautiful. I wish you’d been there.

My sister hasn’t spoken in days.

Eliza cries every night.

Lena reads it all, searing it into her memory as her brother is ripped apart by the press, and her world narrows to manor to which she’s confined. For her own safety.

Eventually, the words turn to them.

I want to see you. My name is–

Lena strikes a line through before the letters fully emerge. Terror makes her hands shake.

No. Don’t tell me.

She can’t know. She can’t tell her soulmate who she is. Who they claim her brother is. Not when…

We can’t meet. Not yet.

Lena feels the hurt and bewilderment in the silence that follows, more powerful than any words, when her arm stays bare.

When the response comes, hours later, it’s only two letter– the shortest message from her soulmate that Lena’s ever seen.

ok

They get no closer to meeting as Lex’s arrest gains momentum. Her mother’s attempts to have him released on bail come to nothing. Instead, the charges against him mount and mount, from embezzlement to extortion to murder. Mass murder.

Lena tries to believe his protestations when he calls home, but it gets more and more difficult as the news finds more secrets every day and puts them on full display. Her father’s memory crumbles to pieces, tarnished by evidence that ties Lex’s crimes to his.

And the one person Lena has to talk to, remains firmly off limits.

They try.

They offer again and again to help with whatever is bothering her. The last time, Lena’s at college and her brother has been in prison for over a year, despite his lack of trial.

Instead of asking if, they can meet, her soulmate asks when.

Her heart lodges in her throat as she reaches for a pen, and scribes the answer she’s hidden in her heart of hearts for almost a year.

Never.

After that, Lena’s skin remains unblemished. For years. She has only herself to blame, and the emptiness in her chest hardens to steel. She throws herself into her studies. She earns two degrees, and graduates with a masters.

Armed with knowledge and steel, she accepts the board’s offer of CEO. Oh, they expect her to fail, but Lena has other plans. She devotes herself entirely to resurrecting the good she once believed her family stood for.

It’s in that first year of her tenure as CEO that she feels the phantom pressure on the inside of her wrist. She almost thinks she’s imagining it, but when she looks, she finds the familiar script of her soulmates hand gracing her skin.

I miss you.

Lena almost sobs right there at her desk. It’s all that comes.

Lena doesn’t write back.

After that, other messages start to trickle in. Infrequent, but cherished all the same. Some express confusion, others simple, or poetic. All of them convey the same sadness Lena’s felt since the day of her high school graduation.

I don’t understand what happened. I hope you’re okay.

The sun felt really nice today.

Sometimes I wonder if you died too.

All of them go unanswered, but they continue to appear, random and without cause. It’s the only thing that keeps Lena going when her progress with Luthor Corp stalls before it can start.

Anything bearing her family’s name is dead in the water. She needs a fresh start. A fresh city, as far from the scene of Lex’s crimes as she can get.

If she can get far enough away, if she can make something good… it would be worth something.

The ache in her soul would mean something.

She chooses National City. There’s a vacuum to replace Lord Industries, and…

She’s ready to feel the sun on her skin.

“I hope this isn’t the last time we talk.”

Lena means it sincerely. There’s something so honest in the way Kara Danvers smiles at her. Without judgement, without guile… her gaze is open, and genuine.

When Kara not reporter Danvers nods, a little thrill blooms in Lena’s chest.

“I hope not either.”

They come together slowly, Lena and Kara. It starts with friendship, and stays there quite a while. It’s all Lena needs– it’s all Lena accepts.

But then it deepens into something more, and deepens further until it resolves itself into a true romantic relationship.

It’s not a betrayal, Lena tells herself. Kara already knows the worst parts of her, and it has nothing to do with her family. And Kara isn’t without her secret heartbreaks either.

There are times when Kara looks at her that her thoughts seem miles away, and Lena wonders if she too asks what she did to deserve this.

The infrequent notes that had started up again fall away again the closer she and Kara grow. Lena barely notices, for the warmth in her chest when Kara brings her lunch unannounced, or pouts until Lena agrees to game night.

She wishes that her soulmate finds a love as warm.

I’ve met someone.

The words come early one morning. She’s left a pot of coffee on for Kara, and is already at the office when the press of a pen tickles the inside of her arm.

Lately I’ve been thinking about what you said once, about soul mates. Two wholes that match.

Lena watches the words appear and fade, and waits for them to continue.

It makes more sense than two halves split apart. Because if I were a half I don’t think I could be as happy as I am now.

I don’t know if you’re still alive, but if you are

I’ll always be sorry we never got to meet, but she makes me so happy. I hope you find someone who makes you as happy as she makes me.

I think

I could spend the rest of my life with her.

With tears in her eyes, Lena watches the words fade. She’s happy for her soulmate– it’s what she’s wished for. But the finality hits home with a stab of pain.

Lena reaches for her pen, to prove to herself and her soulmate that she’s still alive, that she stills cares, that she still wants happiness for them.

Her phone interrupts her, buzzing with a text message from Kara.

“Dinner tonight?”

Lena responds with shaking fingers. “Of course. Meet up at yours.”

A heart emoji blinks onto her phone screen. “Love you.”

With a smile, Lena responds easily. “To the moon and back.”

She watches the indicator flip from sent to read, and something in her calms. When her skin prickles again, she’s more confident that she won’t break down in tears.

I think you’d like her. She’s a lot like how I imagined you might be.  

The words blur, a bittersweet smile all that holds her welling tears at bay.

Her name is Lena.

The world stills.

Lena stares at her skin. Little by little, the pieces click together. She waits for more, to be disproved, for it to be a coincidence. But the words fade, and no more appears to replace them.

She completes her day of meetings, but she could have promised them all the Eiffel Tower for all she remembers of them. Her thoughts remain glued to her soul mate’s final message.

Lena leaves without shutting off her computer. She only remembers her phone because it’s still in her hand. She opens Kara’s unlocked door with it still clutched in her fist, and the hard case digging into her fingers is the only thing that keeps her grounded.  

Kara smiles at the sight of her, before concern fills her gaze when she takes in Lena’s wide, stricken eyes.

“What happened? Is everything–”

“Can I borrow a pen?” Lena croaks.

Kara doesn’t expect that, and stutters in her quick response. “Okay, sure.” She hands one over, and Lena accepts it with shaking fingers. “Lena, what’s–”

She trails off, staring at her palm as Lena writes four simple words on her hand.

My name is Lena.

Shock freezes the air around them. Kara stares at the words already starting to fade, her eyes flickering to the pen in Lena’s hand.

“I don’t understand…”

“When you told me how your dad died in Metropolis, I– I knew you would never… everyone believed I had something to do with it, and I couldn’t bear for you to hate me too.”

Kara shakes her head. “But I’ve always believed in you…”

“I didn’t know it was you. Not until tonight. Kara, I– I’m so sorry. I tried to cut you out, so you could move on, find happiness with someone else, but… you found me anyway.”

Kara stares at the floor. She doesn’t say anything, and Lena endures it as long as she can before running out of hope.

“Please, Kara. Please say something.”

She doesn’t. Without lifting her head, Kara steps forward, wrapping her arms around around Lena’s waist while burying her face in the shoulder of her coat. Lena returns the hug with a sob, tears finally spilling over.

“I thought you were dead too.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Kara sniffles. “I forgive you,” she murmurs. “But you’re not allowed to leave like that again. Okay?”

“Never.”

And that, Lena knows, is the honest truth.

Prompts are now CLOSED

[thatgaydemigodnerd]

A little bit of both pt 3

Tw: mentions of truscum

The final part of the series.

I wanted to post this sooner but I didn't manage to finish it untill today.

This is for week two of @fander-pride-meetup representation, although it's already in week three, I still wanted to post this.

This will have a happy ending, as it's the conclusion to the story.

Roman was non-binary.

Until they weren’t.

Or at least, that’s what they think?

Truth be told it still felt good to see themselves as feminine, but they couldn’t deny that there was an edge of masculinity in them. They were so confused as they screamed into their pillow.

Rolling onto their back and hugging their pillow they unplugged their phone from their charger and opened Google, typing 'both guy and girl' into the search bar. When that gave mainly stuff about intersex people they added gender to the end.

They scrolled though the various links, seeing some Tumblr stuff, they shuddered, they’d heard about Tumblr but they didn’t want to see any of it with their own two eyes. Their eyes found a link that seemed promising, when they clicked on it they saw a lost of words with definitions behind them, they started reading to see if there was anything.

That’s when they saw it, that word that explained it. Bigendered. Both male and female. Something just felt right about that. Roman finally felt like they knew what was going on with their gender.

Excitedly they texted Virgil

Non-binary royalty: dude I got something to tell you can I call you

Patches: Sure.

Roman smiled widely as they tapped on the call button, Virgil answered immediately.

“What’s up?”

“I figured out my gender! I think. I was thinking about how I still felt like a woman, but at the same time I also felt like a man, so I googled for both guy and girl, and I found out about bigendered. Both male and female, it just feels right.” Roman couldn’t suppress a smile as they said it.

“That’s great! I’m happy for you. Do I need to switch pronouns again?”

Roman paused, they hadn’t thought about that. He took a moment to try out different things. She thought back to when she identified as a trans woman, but then he remembered that he also never really felt bad. And he had started to miss it a little bit when they weren’t using it.

“Could you try mixing things up and using both he him and she her?” Roman asked unsure about himself.

“Sure, I’ll try to remember. I’d say the whole punching thing is still standing but I’m not sure when you’d actually punch me.”

“I’ll see about that, thanks anyways.”

Roman hang up with a smile, she really did feel good about this. She went through his contacts and tapped on Patton’s name, sending him a text.

Non-binary royalty: I think I finally figured out my gender

Non-binary royalty: I’m pretty sure I’m bigendered, both male and female

Non-binary royalty: please use both he/him and she/her for me

Roman put away his phone and laid back on her bed, waiting for Patton to respond.

Patton had done as he promised and had gotten better about the whole transgender thing. He had done research himself but had also just asked questions to Roman when he was confused about stuff. Roman had warned him about the misleading stuff posted by truscum and Patton listened, being critical of sources and what they say.

Roman checked her phone again to see Patton had responded.

Patdad: Okay kiddo :D

Roman was smiling at his phone as it buzzed from receiving a text message from Virgil, Roman quickly switched over to him.

Patches: Do you want to come over to celebrate?

Non-binary royalty: sure

Roman got up and walked over to Virgil’s place with a smile and a Happy spring in her step.

He arrived at the same time as Patton, waving at him, when Virgil opened the door.

The two walked in to see that Virgil had actually decorated the house as much as he could in fifteen minutes, there were some balloons laying on the floor or taped to the walls. There were bowls of chips and bottles of soda on the table, and Virgil had pulled out a few board games from his closet.

“You really didn’t have to put in all this effort.” Roman said as he looked around amazed.

“Sure I did, this is a great thing, also I still feel bad about how I used to treat you, so I’m making up for it.”

“At least someone is.” Roman said with a sigh.

“What do you mean kiddo?” Patton asked confused.

“It’s nice to have you two as my friends again but it just isn’t the same with Logan here, even if he is a truscum.”

“Yeah, but he can change that, you can’t change being trans, so until he decides to be better he’s out of the group.” Virgil shrugged.

“I do agree with Roman, it has been odd hanging out without Logan, maybe we should help him change so he can join us again?” Patton said hopefully.

“its hard arguing with someone who has set their mind on disagreeing with who you fundamentally are. And besides, arguing about being trans doesn’t noticeably impact him while it greatly affects me because it feels like a direct attack on me.” Roman said as she lowered his shoulders, seemingly tired from just thinking about it.

Patton put an arm around her shoulders and smiled. “We’ll be there to help you, we can back you up or take over if it’s too much for you.”

“Yeah, Logan is a man of science, if we find the proper sources he must see that he’s wrong and change his mind on the matter.” Virgil added.

Roman didn’t say anything as he thought it over, he did like the idea of having their friend group be complete again.

The three of them set out on the internet to find facts and sources, gathering them all in a word document, with short summaries and links, and then set out to write out the arguments. The celebration long forgotten.

Roman was feeling very nervous as Patton knocked on Logan’s door, the last time she saw him they didn’t part on good terms.

Virgil squeezed his arm and she looked at him, seeing him smiling reassuringly at her.

Logan opened the door and straightened his tie, his eyes going over the three people in front of him.

“For what reason may the three of you be gathered in front of my door. I was under the impression that you all were refusing to talk to me.”

“And do you know why?” Virgil asked him as he stared him in the eyes.

“Well, Roman stopped associating with me after I discovered he is not actually transgender and has merely been pretending to be so for attention. And both you and Patton stopped associating with me when you started associating with Roman again.”

“Now listen here yo-“ Roman began but Virgil grabbed her shoulder and shot him a warning look.

“That is actually why we are here, we wanted to talk to you about whether or not you can be trans without dysphoria.”

Logan sighed and stepped out of the way. “Very well, come inside.”

They all say down around Logan’s dinner table, Virgil pulled out his phone in which they’d written down their arguments. Patton started off from the top of his head. “Scientists agree that there is a difference between being transgender and having gender dysphoria, with gender dysphoria being categorized as a mental disability.”

Virgil picked up next “Furthermore, there are many people who experience gender euphoria but no gender dysphoria, this still makes them transgender.”

Roman took a deep breath and began talking next, she knew that he was with friends who would help him and support her, so she laid out his heart for Logan. “It just feels so right for me to be bigendered, and yes, I don’t have dysphoria, a part of me is a man which makes it so that I don’t mind my man body, but that doesn’t take away that I am part woman as well. I am transgender, no matter what you may think.” Roman didn’t dare look at Logan, looking instead at her hands or the wall or anywhere else, hut after he finished she finally looked into Logan’s eyes. Logan didn’t say anything, he seemed deep in thought.

“My sources say differently, my aunt is transgender herself and after she came out of the closet I interviewed her on all sorts of matters, mainly about being transgender. She explained to me that there are many people who say they are transgender but in fact are not, and are only pretending so for attention. Those people do not experience gender dysphoria and thus can not be transgender. I understand now that I should not have trusted her word without doing some research myself. I will come back to all of you at a later date. You have given me a lot to think about.”

Virgil was the first to stand up, followed by Roman herself. Patton looked at Logan for a bit longer but stood up as well and walked after the other two, closing the door behind him.

“That went so much better than I could have ever imagined.” Roman said as he let out a breath he had been holding.

“Logan has always been someone who doesn’t want to be wrong, and no matter how much he hated admitting he was wrong, he will change his ideas and views if you can present good arguments.” Patton said with a smile. “He’ll be our friend again soon enough.”

Logan one day had simply showed up at Romans house when Virgil was hanging out with her, had said only sorry, and sat down to join their conversation just like that. And Roman was happy with that, he was happy that their friend group was back together again. He knew they fully supported her and loved her, and he loved them back.

The end.

Taglist:

@geronimo-scamander-spd

@cataclysm-al

[sosa-sketch]

Fright or Flight: Chapter 2

Parings: Prinxiety // Logicality // Platonic LAMP

Story Summary: Virgil and Patton investigate the New Prince Castle, when a brutal accident kills Patton. Patton wakes as a ghost and meets friendly ghoul Roman, who has been haunting the castle for 20 years. Virgil is determined to bring Patton back to life and brings Logan, the ghost expert, to help him out. Time is quickly running out, and the four must work together to undo death. If only it was as simple as Logan made it sound.

Unknown to them, a secret entity in the castle does not plan on letting them succeed.

Previous Chapter   Next Chapter 

When Patton first met Virgil, his last intention was to become friends with him. Virgil had built up a notorious reputation over the first few months of school, and his grades did nothing to disprove his status. Patton wasn’t the type to judge a person’s character based on rumors nor looks. No one was a higher believer in the benefit of doubt than Patton! However, Virgil’s first impression did not help his case.

Virgil transferred into Patton’s English class the second semester due to a schedule change. When the teacher stated a new team project was to be completed, Patton did not shy away from offering to be Virgil’s partner. He understood how difficult it could be being the new kid in a class full of friends and cliques.

The project was hefty, an collection of novel analyzing, essays, vocabulary, and journal entries. Patton was not looking forward to the Shakespearean project-Shakespeare’s language was alien to him. It occurred to Patton that pairing up with the soon-to-be-dropout may not have been his best idea. Nonetheless, Patton refused to be jaded.

The first day of the project, Virgil refused to touch the work.

“There’s no way I’m touching this project.” Virgil sneered. “Especially about Shakespeare.”

“Huh?” Patton had not fully processed Virgil’s words. “Is it because you don’t understand it?”

“Sure.”

“Neither can I! I guess Shakespeare really has our brains shaken up! Maybe we can ask the teacher to go over it for us?”

The teen huffed and shook his head. Virgil laid his head on the wooden desk and his eyes slipped closed. He napped for the rest of the period.

His behavior continued for weeks. Patton had tried everything in his power to get Virgil to help him out. Patton’s seemingly endless supply of compliments and encouraging gestures served no help.

Patton’s mind had conjured countless excuses for Virgil since Virgil himself refused to give one. At the beginning the excuses had seemed feasible. Lack of sleep? Family issues? However, by week three, Patton was already scraping the bottom of the barrel, trying to justify Virgil’s dismissive attitude with clones and possible mind control. Virgil was no closer to lifting up a pencil, there were ten days left of the project, and Patton still understood little to nothing about Shakespeare. Patton was flying solo and time was ticking.

The final week before the project was due, Patton caught the flu.

Patton would chalk up the flu to the top three sucky sicknesses of his lifetime. His fever was raging, his skin drowning in sweat while the insides of him iced over. Patton couldn’t tell when being awake ended and when sleep began. The only alarm in Patton’s body was the churning in his gut that rushed him to the toilet.

Understandably, the project was the last thing on his mind.

Patton would not remember his Shakespeare mission until the Sunday before it was due, when he was shaking off the final remnants of the flu. The realization hit him like a train, but by the time he went flying off his bed and hurriedly logging on to his computer to check the time, Patton knew it was hopeless. There was no way he could get the project done in a few hours and counting. Not when all his energy was going into fighting of sneezes and headaches.

Patton was dejectedly scrolling through his email filled with newsletters from adoption sites and animal protection agencies when a subject line caught his eye: “English Project.” Linked to the email were word documents and an audio file. Perplexedly, Patton opened the email.

To: patpetspups@gmail.com

From: killjoy_2001@icloud.com

Subject: English Project

Patton,

so apparently you’ve been sick. class is way more quiet without you their, which is wierd.

i think i did everything you hadn’t done. it’s gonna be really mispelled and confusing and shit. sorry. i’m not the best with righting. feel free to fix anything.

get well soon.

-V

p.s. sorry for acting like a jerk. i owe you a explanation monday.

Patton hugged his computer screen and laugh with relief. He had no idea why Virgil was so nervous. His ideas were brilliant. A week later, Patton would see an A in his gradebook for the Shakespeare project.

There was a reason why Patton never lost faith in people.

True to his word, the next week Virgil explained his mistreatment to Patton. Virgil struggled with dyslexia. While he was getting tutoring in overcoming his learning disability, Virgil’s writing made him incredibly insecure. His old teacher always let him work individually, but the new teacher wasn’t having it. Before class, the teacher pulled him aside and told Virgil he was no different from any other student and would have to work with a partner. Virgil, determined to spite the teacher and anxious to seem like an “idiot” in front of Patton, would pretend to sleep the whole period.

“All your writing took was a quick grammar fix. The ideas were so good! I’m not just saying that to say that, they actually were! I could never think of something like that.” Patton reassured enthusiastically.

Virgil flushed a bright red. “I didn’t do much. Shakespeare is a lot easier to understand with audio.”

Patton listened to the audiobook of Macbeth that night. Virgil clearly wasn’t giving himself enough credit.

Virgil and Patton quickly grew close once the project was done. Virgil was still quiet, snappy, moody, and detrimentally insecure, but he began to open up more as the months went on. By senior year, Patton and Virgil was joined at the hip. Two peas in a pod.

Virgil had grown a lot since freshman year.

Being joined at the hip with Virgil meant that Patton got to understand Virgil by the simplest change in body language or expression. It also meant that Patton became aquatinted with anyone close to Virgil.

Patton already had a bad feeling while Virgil’s tone had shifted on the phone the night they were chatting about yearbook quotes. Remy sending Patton a text only confirmed the ball of dread in his stomach.

Rem: pat can we talk ?

Patton: You don’t even have to ask! Everything ok?

Rem: it’s about v

Rem: have you guys talked recently ? out of school

Patton: We talked last weekend. Over the phone. Why? Is Virgil fine??

Rem: idk. he came over to my house a couple nights ago at like 5 am. talked about some ghost shit.

Patton: He woke you up to talk about ghosts??(language!)

Rem: looking for affirmation that he wasn’t some obsessed ghost freak. i told him nah

Rem: but tbh he kinda is obsessed

Patton: He is passionate about his ghosts! But that’s not a bad thing.

Rem: v strongly disagrees. the whole thing about the yearbook and ghost quotes really messed with his head

Patton: I didn’t mean anything bad by it! It was just an idea! I promise! I’ll apologize to him!!!

Rem: wait no thats not what im saying. no one blames u

Rem: is he doing any ghost stuff anytime soon

Patton: Yep. He’s going to visit a castle!

Patton: Is that bad?

Rem: don’t you remember last time v became paranoid abt something? he pulled some real stupid stuff just to prove ppl wrong

Patton: Yeah. I know.

Patton: Gosh now I’m worried :(

Rem: i just dont want him doing anything he’ll regret on the trip. can u just…idk watch out for him pls ? ik v can take care of himself. but sometimes he gets into this headspace that’s self-destructive

Rem: tbh i dont like his ghost stuff as it is. i dont need him doing something dumb either

Patton: I understand Rem. That’s really sweet of you <3 <3

Patton: I’ll look out for him! I promise!!!! :-) :-)

Rem: ty. dont tell v abt this convo tho

Despite feeling uneasy about it, Patton understood Remy’s request to keep silent. Telling Virgil about their conversation would only push Virgil away and make him defensive. It’d be impossible to look out for him.

Virgil had already given Patton a way in. Patton had to talk to Logan for Virgil and get any supplies he might need. Patton loved visiting Logan in and of itself. Maybe Logan could help him out.

Logan’s business was located near small shops clustered along the beach. It was a hotspot for tourists, where knickknacks and souvenirs were sold and expensive attractions were advertised. Patton walked along here with Virgil sometimes, stopping at the arcade or mirror maze. Patton had met some of the most interesting people in the small touristy town.

Among the attractions was a dark blue shingled building with a pointy-roofed top. Painted letters on a wooden board spelt out “Afterlife Exposed.” Patton stepped through the door and a bell gently ringed, signaling his arrival.

At the sound of the bell, a tall, dark-haired man turned around. His navy suit blended in with the darkness of the shop. The man’s lean body was captivated beautifully in the suit. Patton quickly averted his eyes, blushing furiously.

“I have been expecting you-oh. Greetings, Patton. What a surprise.”

“Hi Logan!” Patton waved enthusiastically. “Who were you expecting?”

“No one. It’s a new rule Father has implemented. I must say it to every customer to ‘set the mood,’ as he calls it.” Logan dragged his hand over his face exasperatedly. “I find it quite ridiculous. But business shall be business.”

Logan’s father technically owned Afterlife Exposed. But he was always hidden in the back, gathering supplies or experimenting. Logan was currently studying entrepreneurship in college in order to take over the family business someday.

“How may I help you today, Patton?” Logan inquired, stepping around the counter to stand in front of him. He was even taller up close.

Patton filled Logan in about the New Prince Castle family murder and Virgil’s plan to investigate the castle for one of his ghost routines. Logan nodded politely the whole way through.

“I see. What an intriguing case. What exactly does he need from me?”

Patton shrugged cluelessly. “Anything you think might help, I guess.”

“What’s his budget?”

“A coffee and cake pop from Starbucks, if he uses his gift card.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “And he sent you to purchase something from here? Why, he couldn’t even afford a keychain.”

“Come on, Logan! He’s one of your most loyal customers and between us, he’s going through a rough patch. Can’t you help him out? Please?”

Logan massaged his temples and sighed. “Patton, it’s just not something the business can afford to do right now. My Father and I have been dealing with a sort of rough patch as well. You and Virgil have my sincerest apologies-truly, you do.”

Patton nodded dejectedly, “I understand.” Spotting Logan’s hesitant expression and tense form, he rested a hand on Logan’s shoulder and grinned. “Really, I do. I don’t blame you.”

Logan gave a small, tight-lipped smile in return. Gently shaking Patton’s hand off his shoulder, he clasped his hands together tightly. “Well, is there anything else I can do for you?”

“I’m not too sure.” Patton pursed his lips in thought. “Well, actually. I was wondering if you could tell me the dos and don’ts of ghost hunting. The yays and nays. The cats and dogs-actually no scratch that, both of those would be a yay.”

“With all due respect, Patton, I think Virgil has got that covered.” Logan reassured. “He must have asked me a dozen times prior to his first investigation.”

“Oh yeah, I know. It’s for me.” Patton corrected.

Logan raised an eyebrow in perplexion. Patton had never shown an interest in ghost hunting when Virgil wasn’t to be found.

Patton thought quickly. “I just want to understand more. For when I talk to Virgil. Sometimes I really don’t get half the explanations coming from the kiddo’s mouth.” It wasn’t a lie. “Just…how do you deal with ghosts?

“I see.” Logan clicked his tongue. “I’m sure Virgil could explain it to you more in depth. But, if you’re ever in doubt, chalk it up to one thing: respect. Is what you’re doing respecting the afterlife and their home? Are you portraying common courtesy? Treat them with the same respect as the living, if not more. There are exceptions, as with anything, but for the most part, that should keep you out of trouble with spirits.”

“Respect.” Patton repeated.

“You have strong morals, Patton. If you’re concerned about involvement with the afterlife due to your closeness with Virgil, I would not worry. Lack of respect is the last of your weaknesses.”

Logan pulled out his phone from the back of his pocket. “I apologize, I must return to my work. However, if you or Virgil have any more questions, feel free to give me a call.”

Patton gushed and thanked Logan, jotting down his number. Logan flushed a gentle red and held out his hand for a handshake.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Patton.”

Patton swatted Logan’s hand away and brought him in for a hug. “Thank you, Logan.”

Logan awkwardly pat Patton on the back before ungracefully untangling himself from the embrace. “I was only doing my job. Now, I understand it’s none of my business, but I recommend getting some rest. You look exhausted.”

“High school has permanently carved bags under my eyes.” Patton shook his head defeatedly.

Logan gave an amused smirk. “You sounded like Virgil.”

Patton beamed. “Like father, like son!”

Just as Patton was about to turn around to leave the store, something in the corner of the room glistened, catching his eye. “Hey Logan? Just one more thing?”

Logan hummed at him, encouraging Patton to continue.

He pointed to the object at the corner of the room. “How much can I get that for?”

 “Walkie-talkies. I sent you to Logan Berry, one of the smartest, most knowledgeable people about the afterlife in this town, and you come back with a Ghost Buster walkie-talkie.” Virgil grunted, dangling the toy by its antennae.

“You can have the Casper the Ghost one instead.”

“What? No! Ghost Busters is better, anyway.” Virgil groaned. “That’s not the point. How about advice? Did Logan say anything?”

“Just to respect the ghosts. Have common courtesy. Which you better be doing anyway, even without Logan telling you to do so.”

Virgil threw his hands up in exasperation and fell down into his sofa as the cushions engulfed the skinny man. “Obviously I respect them! The last thing I need is coming home possessed and cursed! He knows I know that. That’s really all he said?”

“Besides giving us his number.” Patton confirmed. “Which I already gave you.”

Virgil grumbled. “Whatever. One day I’ll get enough money to- wait. The walkie-talkies. There’s no way you could have bought them with my money, I would not have had enough. Please don’t tell me…”

Virgil got a glance of Patton’s sheepish look and groaned. “Patton, we have a rule! No buying each other anything!” He buried his head in his hands. “I can’t pay you back. You know that.”

“Hey…” Patton took a seat next to Virgil and laid a comforting hand on his knee. “It’s okay. They weren’t expensive. You don’t have to pay me back.”

Virgil looked at Patton in between his fingers. His voice was muffled against his palms. “You know how I feel about that, Pat.”

“Virgil, come on.” Patton pleaded.

Virgil shook his head. “Thank you. But, you need to return them.”

Guilty silence settled among the two, but neither made a move to leave. Both were lost in their own worlds when an idea struck Patton.

He nudged Virgil. “I know a way for you to pay me back without money.” At Virgil’s unimpressed look, he protested, “Seriously! It would mean a lot more to me than whatever these walkie-talkies cost.”

“Yea?” Virgil lifted his head from his hands. “What is it?”

Patton stared at Virgil’s stormy eyes as his heart pounded. In all honesty, this was the last thing Patton wanted to do. He was terrified. But, he thought back to the conversation he had with Remy, and the last time Virgil did something senseless unsupervised due to paranoia. “I want to go ghost hunting with you. At the New Prince Castle.”

Virgil’s jaw dropped. His eyes darted around Patton’s face before he shook his head and gave a weak chuckle. “Sure, Pat. Whatever you say.”

“No, I’m serious!” Patton insisted. “I’ll respect the ghosts and do whatever you tell me to do!”

Virgil was dismissing Patton before he could finish his sentence. “No, no, no. You hate ghost stories, Pat! Especially ones that are spooky and gruesome. You’d hate ghost-hutning. It’s dark and there’s lots of weird noises and tons of spiders. No way. I’m not adding more guilt to my conscience.”

Virgil made a move to get up from the sofa, but Patton refused to let the conversation drop. He grabbed Virgil’s hand and pulled him back to the seat. Virgil landed with a clumsy thump.  

“Kiddo, I know I hate all those things. I’m sure I’ll be scared. But, you’ll be there too! I love you more than I hate all those things combined.”

“Patton, we can do something else together. Go to the movies. Or bowling. Normal teen stuff.” Virgil reasoned.

Patton retorted, “But ghost hunting is important to you.”

“It’s not that important. It’s a simple hobby. I don’t care that much about it.” Virgil cut off.

“I know, I know!” Patton quickly backtracked. “What I meant was that ghost-hunting has been a cool way for us to bond. It intrigues you-a perfectly normal amount-and I like seeing you happy! Just like you go walking with me along the shops by the beach even though it’s super crowded and you hate it.”

“Patton, what’s your point?” Virgil grilled.

“My point is I want to try this thing that you enjoy with you. Just like you try things for me. It’s senior year, Virgil. No one hates thinking about it more than me, but we don’t know what things are going to be like after high school. I want to find a husband, start a family. Maybe study veterinary science. You could have a publisher for your writing, become a famous author, and move. I want to do this with you. I want to get over my fear.”

Patton stared at Virgil hopefully and held out his hand. “What do you say? One more big adventure for the dynamic duo?”

Virgil stared at Patton, looked down and roughly shook his head, froze, then stared at Patton once more. Virgil’s foot rapidly tapped against the floor, creating a dizzy, distracting melody. Finally, Virgil pulled his hair and glared at Patton. “You’ll be careful?”

Patton nodded eagerly.

“And you’ll stick with me no matter what? At all times? I want you in my sight.”

Virgil dramatically groaned, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. “I guess you can come.”

Patton shot up from his seat, whooping with joy and hopping around the sofa. “Thank you, Virgil! Thank you! We’re going to have such a great time!”

Virgil peeked one eye open and gave a soft grin. “Yeah, I guess we are. You’re sure you wanna do this?”

“Never been more sure of anything in my life besides my love for you and cats! I pinkie swear it.”

Patton and Virgil intertwined pinkies before Patton winked and let go, embracing Virgil.

“Let your moms know you’re going to be gone for the weekend.” Virgil smirked. “We have a haunted castle to explore.”

[whistlevevo]

characters — jade kristine qi

GIVE ME THE STRENGTH AND HEIGHT OF GLORY

full name:

— jade kristine qi

nicknames:

— none. jade likes her name and prefers to be called by it.

date of birth:

— july 16, 1998

age:

— as of july 17, 2016, jade is 18

nationality:

— american

ethnicity:

— mexican, cuban, filipino, and chinese

place of residence:

— new smyrna beach, florida

languages spoken:

— english

— spanish

— enough tagalog to get by

— jade also knows how to count to ten in chinese and thinks it counts as knowing chinese even though it really doesn’t

sexuality:

— bisexual

GIVE ME GLORIOUS LIFE, THE STRAINING AND THE STRIFE

general:

— jade is honestly, pretty hot. she’s got that trendy instagram look that makes even the straightest of girls question. she has an oval-shaped face with a sharp jawline and defined cheekbones. her nose is thin, but rounded and points up into a button nose. her eyes are light and almond-shaped, with thick eyelashes and eyebrows to frame them. her lips are thick and surly, and her skin is dark and clear, only peppered with freckles. 

hair color:

— naturally, brown, but jade likes to dye it all sorts of colors. she did most of her experimenting as a pre-teen and for now, is sticking with a bubblegum pink hair color, but she’s been known to dye her hair green, silver, blue, purple...the list goes on.

hairstyle:

— jade’s hairstyle varies from day to day. jade’s hair is naturally slightly wavy, so she normally either leaves it like that or puts it back in a messy low ponytail. jade’s not the one for extravagant hairstyles.

eye color:

— jade’s eyes were bright green when she was born, but as she’s gotten older, they darkened down to green and eventually, to her current hazel.

body:

— i hate to be crude, but jade has a rockin’ bod. she’s one of those people that works out for fun. like, she’ll go to the gym and have fun. wild, i know. not only that, but she excelled at sports. i’m talking field hockey, cross country, track, basketball, soccer—jade did all of it, and it gave her a pretty high metabolism, hence her smokin’ hot body. she has a pretty small waist with toned abs, muscular arms, and thick legs.

height:

— jade stands at 5′6″ or 168 centimeters

weight:

— jade weighs 130 pounds or 59 kilograms.

LOVE, PASSION, HOPE IN THEIR DIVINEST SCOPE

casual style:

— jade’s everyday wear is simple. she dresses like your typical “instagram baddie,” just with more comfort. i’m talking sweatpants, crop tops, and sneakers. most of her clothes aren’t that expensive, mainly because jade is super broke, all the time, but it looks fine on jade. it’s nothing special, really.

formal:

— jade rarely goes anywhere where she needs to dress up, but when the occasion arises, she also usually goes for a simple look. jade would normally dress in an unadorned, long dress, maybe with spaghetti straps or a leg slit, but jade prefers to keep the attention on her face and not on her clothes. she’d probably wear some nice heels, too, or at least ones that look nice, and some jewelry from claire’s, probably.

sleepwear:

— jade’s sleepwear isn’t anything fancy. she usually just wears a big sweatshirt, even if she has people sleeping over. no one important’s really gonna see her anyway, so...

swimwear:

— jade’s swimwear is pretty much just the basic bathing suits you’d find at target, your simple bikinis with a few fun patterns or interesting cutouts. living in florida, she goes to the beach often, so she’ll pretty much wear any bathing suit that’s cheap, functional, and looks somewhat decent. she’s not really too picky.

athletic wear:

— jade’s workout clothes are pretty much based on comfort and they don’t really deviate from the usual “leggings-and-sports-bra” thing that most people have going on. no one’s going to see her, so what does it even matter?

dreamworld style:

— jade’s subconscious favors clothes that are a little more rugged than your typical dream keeper. she can be seen in short, dark green skirts and capes. they’re not exactly armor, but they’re easy to move around in, and they allow her to blend in with the other dream keepers. they’re adorned with gold pins.

— however, when the time comes, jade wears as much protective gear as she can. that is, while looking cute. her armor covers her up much more than her casual clothes. there are few rules of physics and science in the dreamworld, so often, armored clothes look exactly the same as normal clothes, similar to the uses of vibranium in black panther. normally, one would wear whatever armor is available, as there aren’t very many battles in the dreamworld and therefore, not a lot of armor, but jade likes earth-toned ( usually green ) armor that hugs her body and doesn’t weigh her down too much. she will often wear a cloak, a cape, or a poncho, just because most of the battles take place near the nightmare realm, where it’s much colder. she also wears a black gas mask, to try to protect her from hallucinations and any attacks that may affect her face.

HIGH WINDS ON MIGHTY SEAS, NOT SHELTERED BAY

personality overview:

— jade is kind of a confusing person. on the outside, she seems extroverted and crazy. she’s reckless, insane, and honestly, kind of mean. she’s egotistical and refuses to think about anyone but herself. anything she does is for her immediate comfort and benefit, even if it hurts someone else. she seems stupid on the outside too, and she kind of is. she focuses on the present, which makes her terrible at making plans and getting out of situations, but either way, jade picks up on social cues very well. she just doesn’t care. jade doesn’t look for anyone else’s opinion on her, which is both a blessing and a curse. she’s rough around the edges, and seems like an open book, when really, it’s just the tip of the iceberg.

— once more, jade isn’t stupid. she knows that people wouldn’t fear her, listen to her, or really even like her if they knew who she was at her core. so, she bottles everything up. she doesn’t disclose her past, her emotions, or her pain to anyone. she’ll whine about papercuts like nobody’s business so people think she’s open, but she’ll suffer in silence if she suffers from anything bad. at her core, jade is a cunning girl that prefers being alone, but she turns on her facade of a happy, extroverted, life of the party when she has to. maybe she feels like she has something to prove. maybe she doesn’t want people to see her weak. who knows?

personality type:

— istp-a

strengths:

— energetic // jade is a seemingly, endless ball of energy that doesn’t seem to get stressed out over much, only if she believes that something will seriously have consequences.

— creative and practical // jade isn’t super smart, but what she does know with a combination of her anxiety, makes her combine creative solutions with practical information to figure things out. 

— spontaneous and rational // jade doesn’t think much before making decisions. she doesn’t overthink things and sees a crossroads sort of like a multiple choice answer. she thinks through all the scenarios and chooses the most logical one.

— knows how to prioritize // jade tries to focus on the task at hand and moves everything else to the back of her mind until she can come back to it later, which usually works pretty well.

— tough // jade’s really good at repressing all her emotions and only complaining about stupid, petty things. she can remain pretty relaxed during a crisis, giving her the impression of toughness.

weaknesses:

— stubborn // jade does this fun thing where she disagrees with anything you say, even if she doesn’t really believe it. that’s how stubborn she is.

— insensitive // jade cares little for the feelings of others and uses logic and her own personal agenda to get what she wants, even if it hurts others.

— private // as i said before, jade seems like an open book, but most people who think they know her really don’t know anything important about her.

— dislike commitment // jade has a really hard time forming meaningful relationships with the people around her, especially romantic ones, because in jade’s mind, a relationship would only weigh her down, so she just....doesn’t commit.

— reckless // jade is bored easily, which leads to terrible decisions and unnecessary trials that could’ve been avoided had she just sat still for a few minutes. with jade, situations often escalate quickly and she can quickly lose control of a situation.

STILL LET ME SNATCH THE CROWN

stats:

— strength : 10 // jade was a boxer for a few years. not only that, but the endless sports she did as a child and many, many fights she got into left her with a lot of brute strength.

— agility : 3 // while jade did many sports, gymnastics and/or dance was not one of them. she’s not very graceful and the little agility she has came from jumping hurdles.

— stealth : 2 // jade is a classically loud person, and very clumsy. stealth is definitely not her forte.

— intellect : 5 // jade is also fantastically bad at thinking ahead. she’s not good at planning ahead. she is good at deducing things, though.

— hand to hand combat : 7 // while jade is strong physically and her boxing and karate skills do come in handy, jade isn’t particularly good with weapons, so her hand to hand combat skills are merely average.

— weaponry : 0 // jade doesn’t even know how to shoot a gun, and jade’s far too clumsy to be good with swords and knives.

physical disabilities:

— a bad punch in her left ear left jade slightly hard of hearing. she should probably use a hearing aid, but didn’t really ever have the money to fix it.

mental disorders:

— jade has severe anxiety. it can always be seen in one way or another, usually by bouncing her leg and going through every worst possible scenario in her head.

— jade also has adhd, hence her not-so-great report cards. jade initially wanted to learn in school, but her adhd made it so difficult and she got so little help that  she simply lost her motivation. 

OF ALL LIFE HAS TO GIVE

friends:

— jade doesn’t need friends. they disappoint her. also, her commitment thing...

family:

— ana paulina rosales : mother // jade’s mother was always busy, which wasn’t her fault, but they never formed a meaningful relationship. jade learned from a young age to stay away from her mother, as to not bother or inconvenience her, so while jade would certainly like to protect her mom, she rarely talks to her about anything important.

— christopher andrew qi : father // jade never met her father. she detests him for leaving her and her mom. plain and simple.

past relationships:

— god, where do i start? jade’s had countless relationships, but none that really lasted more than a week. again, fear of commitment, so...

pets:

— jade’s family never had the time or money for any pets, so none.

AND TO CRY BUT ONCE

pre-conception:

— jade’s mother, ana paulina rosales was the daughter of a filipino immigrant and a poor mexican farmer. neither of them had anything, which meant that neither did jade’s mother. determined to break the cycle of poverty, jade’s mother tried her hardest to finish high school and actually did. like many immigrants, jade’s mother knew that she had to the united states if she wanted to do anything more than be a beggar on the street. so, she hitchhiked and walked all the way to monterrey, saving as much money as she could to finally get a visa and buy a plane ticket to dallas, texas, where she met christopher andrew qi, a cuban-chinese lawyer who promised ana paulina the world. she got pregnant, and when he found out, he bailed, leaving her broke, homeless, and pregnant.

— jade was born nine months later, and lived in dallas for the first few years of her life, until her mom managed to get back on her feet and save enough money to move to new smyrna beach, florida, a quiet and quaint town filled with retired white people, so if you’re a maid, basically prime real estate. jade used to help out, too, until she had to go to school. she was diagnosed with adhd at around seven years old, but no one really did anything to help jade learn, even though she really did want to. eventually, she simply lost interest which just led to jade listening to hours worth of green day during school, which didn’t help anyone at all.

— jade realized she was bisexual when she was in seventh grade and kissed a girl in her class, which was a lot less fun than it sounded. jade spent the next few years denying her sexuality, and her town wasn’t the most accepting of gay people, especially not lgbt+ women of color, which is when jade started to get into her first few scrapes, which began escalating. jade was keeping to herself, frying ants with a magnifying glass in eighth grade-ish, and before she knew it, people were punching her. she punched them back, but she didn’t have enough time to react, and the kid hit her left ear, hard. it sent her to the emergency room, and to this day, jade’s still hard of hearing. but life went on nonetheless.

— that fight was the first time jade went to juvie. she was accused of assault and battery, and come on, this is florida. who are they gonna believe, a straight white male kid or a bisexual woman of color? yeah, jade went to juvie. after that, it mostly went downhill. no one trusted her, so she was convicted of various things that never happened, for example, drug possession and distribution, resisting arrest, trespassing, and burglary. jade pretty much stopped caring at that point, and was arrested a total of 27 times, mostly for things she hadn’t done. after that, she figured that if people thought she was guilty, then she might as well live up to their standards and started regularly breaking the law. she only got caught sometimes.

— jade had originally made her instagram account in 2013, when she was 14 years old. obviously, most 14-year-olds are ugly and disgusting, so jade didn’t have a lot of followers from the start, but as she got older and prettier, her pictures started gaining recognition. she even did a few modeling gigs, which is where she found her passion. sadly, she had to drop out of high school her senior year to work and help her mom. she did help a lot by getting sponsorships on instagram, though, which brings us to present day. i can’t say much more because it’d give away the plot, so i’ll just leave it at that.

BUT ONCE I LIVE

likes:

— shopping // jade doesn’t go shopping often because she’s super broke, but when she does, she enjoys it.

— modeling // jade finds it relaxing and it helps her focus. plus, she’s good at it.

— boxing // out of all the sports jade has done, boxing is her favorite. it lets her harness her anger and frustration into something productive.

— the beach // who doesn’t like swimming, getting tan, and getting sand up your buttcrack for weeks?

— meat // jade tried going vegetarian, but she lost so much muscle mass that she had to keep eating meat. she got a taste for it eventually.

dislikes:

— creative writing // jade is only good at things that make sense, things that have a formula to them. creative writing does not.

— insects // they’re weird and disgusting and jade does not enjoy them.

— children // jade has a little bit of a potty mouth, so kids around jade is a sure recipe for disaster.

— fish // jade eats meat, yes, but she can’t stand the smell of fish, so even cooked fish is something that jade definitely stays away from.

— police officers // they’re annoying and kind of a nuisance and definitely a wrench in jade’s illegal shenanigans.

extra:

— jade can play the drums. not well, but she can carry a beat.

— jade auditioned for america’s next top model, but didn’t make it.

— jade met chris hemsworth once. or, rather, she broke into chris hemsworth’s house and tried to get an autograph. he kicked her out and she did not get her autograph and is now not allowed within 100 feet of chris hemsworth.

[lamgrace1993]

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[omg-amaymon]

So, a post here on Tumblr about Flight/Drama Rising and it’s SJW communities

So, a few things you need to know. First: I hate Tumblr. I originally only made this to connect to a few friends on Tumblr, but that fell short like hell. You can clearly see I don’t use Tumblr much or plan to use it much outside of responding to DramaRising posts in their posts and the occasional post such as this. I don’t even know how to sort out a proper background or how to just directly respond to a post on DramaRising without reblogging it.  If you disagree with me about something, well hit me up on FlightRising or make a post about me on DR.  If anyone reading this somehow stumbles on this, I should point out something. This is going to be both a private and public letter. I’m not going to put any tags outside of DramaRising into this because I don’t expect people to read it, but it’s worth a read anyways. Flight Rising, for those who don’t know, is basically a game about breeding and decorating dragons with a bit of Pokemon style battling thrown in there. That’s the main gist of the whole thing. You can trade and sell Dragons and breed your own. That’s it. It’s simple, and easy to understand. But there’s an underlying problem with it, or rather with the Tumblr community of FlightRising... or rather from people who browse ‘DramaRising’, a Tumblr page dedicated to the Drama on-goings on FlightRising. And recently it’s taken over as more of a political blog than anything else, talking mostly about LGBTQ+IA Pride (Which I don’t have a problem with) and how everything is “Transphobic” and “Homophobic.” This, however, I do have a problem with. This isn’t just a problem, to be fair, to the denizens of DramaRising or FlightRising or even to Tumblr, but it’s becoming Endemic to DramaRising and FlightRising. How did we get here though? It’s always happened, admittingly from what I seen from the previous DramaRising and it appears quite often in FlightRising forums also, but it’s kept mostly out of FlightRising which is why it appears on DramaRising. Here I’m going to talk about three things: The first two are recent events and the last one is the more longer and more common event that keeps popping up all the time. Recently, a person made an artshop on FlightRising. This is one way many people make ‘Gems’, ‘Treasure’ and actual Money on FlightRising. Artshops are common as muck, but it’s not the scope of this post to talk about the oversatuation of the Artist Corner there. However, this one individual made what you would think would be a complete crime against nature. They posted they would draw many things, but one of the subjects they won’t draw is ‘LGBT.’ That’s a broad enough subject in of itself admittingly. Though from what I understand, they don’t mind drawing Gay or Lesbians. So what could they have possibly mean? Well, one of the examples they gave on what they would draw was ‘Light Romance.’ The example of what they wouldn’t draw was ‘LGBT.’ I would assume, therefore, that they would not draw any Light Romantic stuff which involved LGBT stuff in, which would be Lesbians and Gay people perhaps partaking in romantic actions, such as kissing.  The person who made this, by the way, is apparently a 15 year old girl. However this didn’t matter to many people on the DramaRising page, where there were dozens of anonymous entries dedicating to how disgusting of a person she was, demanding for her name so people can boycott and block her. To decry her as Homophobic as well as Transphobic. All because she won’t draw LGBT stuff. I don’t know about you guys, but most people don’t know what the hell they’re talking about when they’re 15 years old. I was considered smart for my age, but I still barely had a real grasp on things and that was before the Internet really took a hold. The reblogs and replies though were just as bad, if not as toxic as some of these posts though. I saw one post on DR that was about someone defending this girl, maybe a little confused. The posts and responses were very different, but had one guy basically tell the anonymous user to ‘Fuck their Face.’ Brilliant. I’ve noticed that many of the most aggressive people are from those who believe this girl to be Homophobic. Now I want to say: “Not all LGBT users.” Many of them also seemed quite supportive of the girl. Maybe disagreeing with the idea, but certainly condemning the more oppressive people. I like these LGBT users, probably because they show Maturity. Maybe, also though, because pretty much almost all my friends are in the LGBT or a minority community and have learnt to accept that I, as a Straight White Cisgendered Male (But Disabled) man, can understand other peoples ideals and can also disagree with other people and hold a rational conversation with them. Now the current big drama is about this ‘Heterosexual Pride’ Hatchery. Hatcheries, for those who don’t know, are threads that basically sell their dragons and continuously update them to sell more of their dragons. They always sell certain dragons and can breed them.  And I’m going to say this: Making a “Heterosexual Pride” Hatchery, is stupid. Not that I don’t agree that Straight people are actually getting attacked, but it looks to be more of a ploy to get attention than anything. The person who made it, from what I’ve seen in the past, does stupid stuff all the time. People are taking this stupid bait for what it is and, again, demand name drops so they can block and/or harass this user. And like the previous event, it keeps getting brought up all the time, with people both attacking and defending the user. Here, I think both need to look at it and think “Well, this is stupid. For both sides.”  Finally the last thing I should talk about. Here’s some context, again, for people who don’t know much about FlightRising. There are multiple breeds of dragons. There are also multiple ‘Genes’ you can get also. Within this, you can change the Breed of the Dragon to one of the many other breeds and you can change the genetics of the dragon so it looks nicer and cooler.  One thing, however the site does not offer, is a ‘Sex Change Scroll.’ You cannot change the Gender of the Dragon, you cannot change their Eye Colour and if you want to change their colours, you have to do it randomly. Otherwise all rules apply, you can change any breed/gene of a dragon to another breed/gene of a dragon. Also, the gender of the dragon changes the pose of the dragon. So a Male Coatl Dragon looks different to a Female Coatl Dragon due to their ‘Poses.’ Some Dragons have some differences in their sexes also, such as one breed’s Male having a much longer nose than the female or depending on the gender, one might have more horns than the other.  So why doesn’t the site offer a ‘Sex Change Scroll’? Many reasons probably why they don’t offer one but the main point of the game is the Dragons themselves and that you can breed the dragons together. Part of the challenge of getting your perfect dragon is to breed them or buy them. You must realize, also, that in this regard there’s also different breeding cool downs and that certain Genes/Breeds have a more dominant trait than others. A Coatl Dragon, for example, is less likely to give birth to a Coatl Dragon unless it breeds with another Coatl or a Wildclaw. They are ‘Rare Breeds.’ (Coatls also so happen to be the most popular.) The Rarer the Breed, the longer it also takes for their breeding to go off Cooldown. If you want to breed a Coatl again, you’re going to have to wait another 35 days. Yes, it sucks that if you breed two Coatls together and you’re after a Male but only get Females, it sucks. Even more so when you’re trying for certain colours/genes. But the goal of the game is to breed dragons to make your dream dragon or make someone elses dream dragon to which you can sell. To some people though: This reasoning would be considered Homophobic or even Transphobic. Hell, a lot of people who say if you don’t want a Sex Change Scroll, you’re outright Transphobic. No, this isn’t the case. I simply want there to be some restrictions. Dragon Breed changes are a good idea, because otherwise we would never be able to get hold of Coatl/Wildclaws. And It’s not like breeding two Plentiful Breeds have a chance for a Common breed or a Rare Breed. It’s always locked to the two parents you breed with what Breed/Gene they have. You start out with two parents, one you can customize but you only get to choose a plentiful breed. The other is randomly generated and, again, is also always a plentiful breed. The eggs you can scavange are Plentiful unless they’re from the Cauldron (Bogsneak) or an Event (Nocturne) so it is literally impossible to get a Common, Uncommon, Imperial or a Rare Breed outside of these scrolls. Likewise, it would be impossible to get the Genes you want outside of those scrolls because you always only have the Basic Gene. The Gender of a Dragon is not impossible to get, however, due to fact you always have a 50/50 chance of getting the Gender you want. I got the first Triple Cherry Wildclaw on the site and I was disappointed it wasn’t female. But you know what, I don’t want to change it’s sex because he grew on me.  Which leads me to the Final idea these lunatics want. It’s not a bad idea, admitting, and I have a hard time refuting it, but I will and not because I’m ‘Transphobic’ (Though people will call me a Homophobe/Transphobe because of this post.)  The final idea is instead of a ‘Sex Change Scroll’, that they instead put a ‘Pose Change Scroll’ instead. This changes the Dragon so that they have the opposite Genders Pose. A lot of people hate the Male Wildclaw or the Female Faepose, for example and would love to change it to the Female Wildclaw/Male Fae. So... what’s wrong with this? There’s actually quite a lot wrong with it. First, remember I said there were differences in the Genders of some dragons. Male Guardians have Beards, Male Ridgebacks have longer noses, Male Pearlcatchers have another Horn and probably a few more I forgotten. (Contray to belief: There’s no Gender Difference in Coatls.) So these artists will have to make adjustments already and add more artwork into the site already just to accommodate these pose change scrolls. This will put more strain on the servers because now every breed would have to call upon, in some cases, FOUR different artworks for different dragons. If you’re like me, who’s been on the site almost ever since it got out of Beta, you know how unstable it can be already. The second problem I have with it is... I think it may actually be insulting to Trans people. Hear me out here. Even if no new artwork is drawn up, would someone who is transitioning to a woman want to show up as always having a beard? You would think someone who identifies as a woman would not want to have/limit the amount of stuff that would identify them as a Male. Likewise, a Female wouldn’t suddenly have a beard just because they identify as a Man would they? So maybe it’s just me, but having a dragon with those traits on the wrong artwork would seem insulting to me. However, I’m not Transsexual or planning on ever becoming Trans, so maybe this one is just a weird one on me.  The Third and final problem, a smaller one admittingly, is it can be used deceitfully as a way of selling dragons on the Auction House. This is probably the least concerning, since we also have a scroll that gives Dragons “Eternally Youthful”, which means they always have the Young Dragon look (Which is very unisex, though originally weren’t meant to be.) So I doubt that’s an issue.  Personally, I’m against the Sex/Pose Change Scrolls. I know that LGBT (Particularly the T part it seems) wants to have a way to identify themselves in the game and to have representation in the game. However the game was clearly not made for that in mind.  Instead of listing everyone who slightly disagrees as Homophobic/Transphobic, perhaps take a moment to look and understand their reasonings. If there’s not much of a reasoning, don’t assume either that they’re just a scumbag who believes that all Homosexuals need to be burnt on a cross. Just... hear them out.  I will only list this as DramaRising Tag. I don’t think it’s a problem for FlightRising, but those who appear on DramaRising instead. If you do want to discuss about this, you can always hit me up on FlightRising (It’s probably obvious from my name who I am on there.) If you feel you need to complain about me on DR, that’s fine too. I’ll respond.