#i hate eyeballs and the thought of being exposed

[icarrymany]

we all know which tma entity we kin or whatever but what about the opposite. which one aligns with your worst fear?

[whumpdoyoumean]

Whumptober #16

A/N: Ya girl is running behind, but still trucking! ✌️

part 1

xxx i can't feel anything

"Dickie!" Jason says, a dopey grin splitting his features. "Heyyy."

Dick smiles back. It's the kind of tired, fake smile that Jason sees through every time – when he's not drugged up to his eyeballs, anyway. Dick's physically exhausted; being up for over thirty hours straight will have that effect on most people.But it's not just that. Mentally, emotionally, he feels flayed, like he's a walking bundle of exposed nerves. Babs has been trying to coax him into going home for a shower and some sleep, but he can't bring himself to leave Jason's side.

They don't understand. They can't. He knows they're trying to, and he appreciates the effort, but the fact is they weren't there. Anything he says to them to try and explain won't come close to capturing how harrowing the experience had been. In the collapsed building, and then in the ambulance ride and ER after, as they struggled to keep Jason stable.

"How are you feeling?" he says, forcing himself back into the present. Pushing down thoughts of last night is getting harder to do as he grows increasingly fatigued. "Any pain in your arm?"

"Pain?" Jason says, squinting. "In my arm? No, I – I can't feel anything." He frowns. "They didn't take my arm, did they?"

"Nope, they didn't. Your arm is still there," Dick assures him. He points to Jason's left arm. "It's in that cast, see?"

Jason looks down and his eyes widen comically. "Whoa." His gaze shifts back to Dick. "Will you sign it?"

"Later," Dick says.

"There," Jason says, gesturing at the cast.

"Careful, Jaybird. You don't wanna pull your IV."

"You can sign it right there," Jason continues, ignoring him. "D-I-C-K." A mischievous look crosses his features. "Or you could just draw a dick."

Dick laughs. It's the first genuine smile he's had since he learned that Jason was in the building when the explosion happened.

"You'd better watch it, dude," he says as the post-op nurse snorts.

Jason hums. "You love me."

"Mm-hmm."

A shadow falls across Jason's face, and he looks like he might burst into tears. "Bruce doesn't love me."

Dick's heart clenches. "Of course he does."

"He hates me," Jason says quietly.

"Don't say that." Dick lays a hand on Jason's knee. "Bruce does not hate you."

"He does," Jason says, and lets out a wet sob. Dick looks up at the nurse, who's moved forward to put a hand on Jason's shoulder.

"It's normal to feel a bit emotional after the anesthesia," he says, and Dick knows he's saying it for his benefit as well as Jason's. "That's okay. You're okay, buddy."

"How long will it take before it wears off?" Dick asks, and the nurse shoots him a small, sympathetic smile.

"This part of it usually lasts an hour or so, but it'll be about twenty-four hours for all of it to be flushed from his system completely."

"And he won't remember any of this?"

"It's highly unlikely, unless you want to get your phone out."

Dick absolutely doesn't.

xxx

Jason falls asleep pretty quickly after he's settled back in his room. Dick texts the group chat.

Surgery went well. Jay's resting in his room now

There's a small knock on the door and Haley, one of the nurses that's been in and out a lot over the last day and a half, pokes her head in.

"Sorry to disturb you," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "There's a gentleman here to see you."

Dick frowns. "To see me?"

She nods.

"Huh." He looks over at Jason, and something like grief pangs in his chest. Jay looks younger when he's asleep like this, more his age. If not for the white in his hair and the scars, he could pass for a regular nineteen year old.

"He'll be okay without you for a few minutes," Haley says gently. "I'll make sure he knows where you are if he wakes up."

Dick sighs and, a little reluctantly, stands. "Thank you," he says.

She smiles, and there's a ruefulness to it as she pats his arm. "You're a good brother."

Another sharp pain through the center of his chest, and this time it persists as he follows the nurse through the halls.

"Just in here," she says, opening the door to a quiet room.

His stomach drops.

Bruce.

xxx to be continued...

[world0fmadness]

34, 28, 23, 7 & 4

Picked a few, hope you don’t mind :)

🦚

another couple of questions from the ask game, yay! and from my lovely little peacock anon! i do not mind at all, you guys can pick as few or as many as you would like! i love answering questions for you all <3

share some personal lore you have never posted before!

when i was still in middle school, we had a cooking class and within minutes of being handed a kitchen knife to cut up some vegetables, i had accidentally cut the side of my thumb, right next to my nail! it was only a small cut but it bled a whole lot and i have a white scar there now, it was actually one of the reasons they put down for me needing to be taken out of school, they said i had done it on purpose to hurt myself which was actually not the case! but a pretty unsurprising accusation and i do believe they meant well… kind of…

my mother thought i was going to be born a boy! when she was pregnant with me, her bump was crazy big and supposedly that was meant to mean she was having a boy but then i came out and… yeah, not so much a boy, just a big baby girl lolol!

i have two middle names that are related to other people in my family! vera was the middle name of my great grandmother who i look a freakish amount like and share a lot of mental similarities to, jane is my second middle name because my uncle jay was the only person strong enough to stay in the delivery room with my mother, the rest of my family were total wusses…

once, when i was very young, probably around three? i was in my pram, my mother pushing me, when we passed a cat that had obviously been run over, guts exposed and eyeballs popped out, just nasty and gory! but i decided that i wanted to pet the kitty and leaned out of my pram to try and stroke it! i do not know why, it was obviously dead, looked disgusting and now my mother loves telling this story to people lolol!

do you have any reoccurring dreams?

honestly, i have a lot of really fucking horrible dreams about teeth! like they make me wake up all sweaty and gross, so i suppose they are more nightmares than dreams but still… i have the most horribly graphic and real feeling dreams about my teeth being pried out with pliers, falling out into my hands as i catch them and blood drips outs onto my skin, having them smashed with a hammer and all types of nasty stuff! they’re always so vivid, i think dreams about teeth are usually because the dreamer is nervous about something but i have had them so many times despite me not being nervous… very strange and i wish they would stop, they fuck me up really bad, sometimes i can really feel the pain and taste the copper in my mouth!

what do you think says the most about you as a person?

hmmm, gosh i hate complimenting myself and stuff but i would probably say my respect for things… i think… despite not being a religious person myself, i do not advocate for the destruction of historical churches, not at all! it makes me incredibly upset to see beautifully built churches from centuries ago with broken windows and messed up stone work because of vandalism… there are many better ways to deal with the wrongdoings of religions such as christianity and all of that as opposed to destroying a building that has been standing through so many centuries and so many wars, you know? i appreciate the general beauty of churches so much, not what goes on inside of them, despite not being religious, i respect the effort that went into building them, especially old ones! i could never look at a beautiful stained glass window and think of smashing it into pieces simply because of what people do inside and what a book says, not at all… take the problems you have up with the people, not the building!

so yeah, i suppose i am pretty happy with how i respect things and go about things despite them being very different to my view of the word, you know? i have never felt a true, major hatred towards something simply because i did not particularly like it or agree with it, unless something is actively hurting someone or something, just leave it alone…

what is the best compliment you have ever received?

honestly, any compliment on my writing skills is always an all time favourite compliment for me! i still get a little nervous about my writing ability from time to time but then you guys come in and compliment it so beautifully and i just get all warm and fluffy inside!

thought one compliment that has really stuck with me so much is actually one i received on here, someone sent in an ask telling me how they thought i had a similar soul to pelle and they thought we would probably get along well and it just… completely destroyed me in the best way possible! i think about it all the time, i wonder if that really would be the case, if i have a similar soul to pelle, if we would have a quiet chat about music and art, if we would become casual acquaintances and all of that… pelle is somebody that i did always feel very similar to in the way that we view death the same way and many other small things like that but being told that by someone else just meant a whole lot to me because i appreciate pelle so much as an artist, i appreciate him so much as a person…

what is something upcoming that you are excited for?

again, i am not religious at all but i am pretty excited for christmas this year! i do not get to see much of my family all that often but christmas is the one time i am guaranteed to see almost everyone who lives in the same town at least, we get together at my grandparents house for dinner and small gifts, it feels good to see them, to talk to them about life and interests… at least until my social battery runs out and i just want to go home lolol! i’m especially looking forward to it this year because i am the healthiest and happiest i have ever been this year, my mental health is the best it has been in… just about forever, i think…

another thing would probably be the game awards in december! nerdy, i know, but i just love seeing all of the developers, voice actors, soundtrack composers and just everyone involved in creating these beautiful pieces of playable art get the recognition they deserve! i love voting for my favourite games this year, watching who wins and seeing any new game trailers that get shown in between… this year is going to be especially exciting because it has just been such a wonderful year for video games that i have no clue who is going to win all of the awards, there are so many deserving this year! my mother likes to watch with me too because she just enjoys seeing what the voice actors look like and such lolol…

[hotcinnamonsunset]

okay jumping off of the tags in the ballerina/PT novel (💀) — do you have a your ballet media reclist? signed, former dancer and struggling 🩰

from one former dancer to another, let me tell you. the prospects are grim. (at least if you’re picky. which I definitely am.) (also after I reblogged that post I was already combing over my goodreads to see what ballet books I rated recently to see if they were as bad as I remember lol)

wordy meander below where I try to gather some thoughts coherently🩰:

my preferred type of fiction/writing style is more literary fiction as opposed to quippable “chick lit” (god I hate that term but I feel it gets the point across unfortunately) fiction - so I feel like that’s already a big ask of ballet fiction.

I also (as a former dancer) like there to be some depth to the ballet knowledge presented because I feel that most authors that take on ballet in fiction do it for the “expose the gritty underside of ballet” perspective and they just want to have a female lead that can be cute/little/girly/submissive/etc without even trying to understand that that simply isn’t what all dancers are like. that being said, I do find works where ballerinas just go off being fully unhinged is fun from time to time. ballet and perfectionism can make you do crazy things and the glass in pointe shoes myth didn’t stem from nothing.

furthermore, while I understand that people want to read romance, for some reason if a book is about ballet I want romance to be very inconsequential? maybe it’s because for me ballet is a kind of love that personally never mixed with romance or that there is so much to relationships between dancers that can be so much more engaging than some romance plot about choosing between love and dance or something but most authors don’t feel this way.

all that being said, it’s no small wonder that my rec list of good things is a bit hodge podge. (and sometimes I’ll read things regardless of how bad just because sometimes it’s soooo bad all I can do is laugh)

memoirs are always accurate and enjoyable, albeit obviously not fiction. although! Dancer by Columbia McCann is a fictionalized take on Rudolf Nureyev that reads quite nicely.

fiction really is a mixed bag and often there are ports of stories that’ll be okay even if on the whole it’s not quite up to snuff. like, the last ballet book I read a few weeks ago was The Turnout by Megan Abbott and while I wanted to strangle each of the main characters repeatedly and shake them and ask them why are you like this??? the author had an atmospheric quality to their writing about ballet studios that transported me back to the smells and groans and quirks of old buildings repurposed as dance studios so acutely that I felt more empathy towards the ballet studio in the book as a character more than anything else.

so anyways. according to goodreads some ballet fiction that I did enjoy includes Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfeild, Swing Time by Zadie Smith, Up to This Pointe by Jennifer Longo as well as Filthy Animals and The Late Americans by Brandon Taylor, both of which aren’t ballet centric but have genuinely realistic dancer characters.

as for other media…I feel like most things I watch, unless it’s really captivating, go in one eyeball and out the other. that and I’m really bad at watching movies. as for ones I have seen and appreciated though - And Then We Danced is a top one that I can recall, Suspiria is insane but a romp nonetheless, Bird of Paradise is also a bit of a romp.

all this to say if you’ve made it this far I am always always open to recs and suggestions silly and serious because it really is a struggle out there for content like this and we’ve got to stick together.

[scoonsalicious]

I was an absolute Bucky hater, I have no shame on that! HAHAHAHAH I really really said, no excuse for what he did. I genuinely hate him for fuckinh Jamison.

But I have to say, seeing what happened in chapter 27 makes me quite understand the human aspect of it. Jugular really played on his insecurities and when at his most exposed time, she literally reached for his jugular. She didn’t just manipulate Bucky based on that article with Steve. It was helpful, yes, but without it, she would’ve still gotten into bucky’s head, regardless. I guess, the reason why it kinda gave me a reason to be less infuriated with Bucky is her literally invading their privacy. Yes, Bucky still gave pieces of info, but her snooping around and seeing both Bucky and Pocket’s intimate and vulnerable moments gave her the MOST and ABSOLUTE power over Bucky. She just knew how he works, inside out.

Now also, I am an insecure person. VERY insecure. Hearing this Jackass say everything to hit Bucky, she really hit all the right spots to make him weak. It’s like Ty Lee hitting all the energy points to take away your bending or any movement (yes, avatar reference 😭 I could only hope u know what I’m pertaining to). I would never fuck someone because of it tho. Even on that given situation. But I genuinely SEE the reason, and no it does not justify it but I see how it could be destructive to his decision making. Literally a snake whispering. She was soooo persistent and so sure of what she said that she had Bucky believing it despite wanting not to, and knowing pocket wouldn’t. Again. I still wouldn’t fuck my partner’s worse enemy for it. I would feel disgusted doing it. Like okay, I want revenge but not with u honeyboo. I would rather fuck a stranger than u. But yeah I see how it wasn’t really under hydra control or sex pollen but it is BORDERLINE there due to her manipulations. I still hate him, your honor 🧍‍♀️these past few chapters? Pocket is letting him slide too easily. Yes, poor Bucky but nah. Keep him at bay, sister! (I’m sorry I feel no empathy for people who did what Bucky did, just hit a nerve to me 🥹)

Anw, abt how this absolute Jaundice will die, I hope Bucky tortures her. Emotionally and physically. I hope he doesn’t just put a bullet though her head or snap her neck in an instant. She doesn’t deserve that. She deserves to hear how disgusted Bucky was, how he doesn’t and will never even like her, how she’s nothing but used goods, used by hydra, used by him, then is meant to be dumped like a worthless piece of shit. Do her everything she did Bucky and pocket, put thoughts in her head, and hit her where it hurts the most. Hell if it weren’t for Pocket’s condition I would’ve wished she also used Bucky and fuck right in front of Jails. She deserves every torture. Remove her nails and tooth one by one, scrape her skin slowly, gauge her eyeballs out. Keep her alive and make her wish she was dead. I hope her last vision when she dies is seeing how Bucky loves pocket SOOOOO much.

I am *so* relieved that I could pull off the Russia incident- I was really worried I wasn't going to be able to do it the way I wanted to, and I would doom Bucky to being evil forever, lol. But yeah, I feel like, between his own insecurities, her manipulation, and the access to information that she had, he didn't stand a chance. It doesn't absolve him, and he and Pocket both know this, but it's a mitigating factor.

And I totally don't agree with him hooking up with Pocket's nemesis for revenge, but, in a way, who the hell else was there? Like, dude knows less than 10 women, total, lol. He probably never would have even thought about getting "revenge" if a certain snake hadn't put the thought in his head to begin with (even though we don't see it on page, she absolutely did).

Pocket's realizing she can't live without Bucky, but it's not just going to be a "let's just jump back together" situation. They will take proper time to heal, I promise.

[youn9racha]

Who is he?

Pairing: human!felix x demon!afab reader (and a little bit of Jeongin)

Genre: smut/dark

Words: 2.5 k

Warning: sub!reader, dom!felix, reader being a straight up manipulative demon, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap kids), heavy make outs, slight infidelity, public sex, no foreplay up in here just straight up fucking, quickies ig.

Extra Notes: Happy Halloween everyone !!! I’ve decided to make another supernatural fic on this day because why not? its fitting also i kind of want to do a continuation of the jeongin shot i made, because i’m thinking of maybe making a series revolving that 👀 i’m only thinking about it, nothing’s planned really, so lemme know if y’all are interested to read it. also i made y’all straight up evil, hope you don’t mind that oopsies…

While it is not obligation, its best you read Jeongin’s fic first here before reading this..

—————————————————————————— This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised. ——————————————————————————

Jeongin’s elation was skyrocketing by the second since the day you walked into the door of the dance studio. He saw you nearly every night before that, thinking you were just some sort of enigmatic creature that was invisible to the naked eye but his, but here you were in the flesh, right in front of him, right in front of his bandmates and friends. And yet, you seemed to look unreal to him, you were too gorgeous to be a human. Unachievable beauty you carry upon yourself, and it wasn’t just Jeongin who thought so.

He could see how the boys were slowly starting to get infatuated by your beauty, but masking it as to not make you feel uncomfortable. He would definitely say he hated how exposed you were to the boys, and how he was no longer the only person he could see you. However, your smile reassured him that you weren’t going anywhere to leave him, which gave him a comforting feeling.

Usually there was strict professional rule between employees and idols at jype, but Jeongin didn’t care, as it was seen how his lips were all over your body, laying on his bed. You were sighing in pleasure at every touch his lips gave to your exposed skin, fingers entangled into his hair, as he lifted your shirt up and began kissing your stomach.

Before he started to strip your clothes off, he suddenly heard the door opening.

”Innie, you go—Oh!” You both heard a deep voice erupting after, and looked at the source. You see jis bandmate‘s grunt of astonishment and shielding his eyes from the two of you, though both of you are clothed. Jeongin pushed himself away from you as you lifted yourself up to look at the man standing at the door.

Jeongin was yelling at him to leave him alone whilst the boy was probably just teasing him back for “growing up,” but you couldn’t pay attention to what they were saying as you were mainly focusing on the blonde man standing ahead of Jeongin.

You couldn’t help but eyeball the shorter man and his features. He has the face that was opposite of your being, angelic. His soft yet masculine features, doubling along with his deep voice contrasting with the smile he’s showcasing. You knew he had an interesting accent when speaking English, as you’ve once heard him speak with another member who was fluent in the same language, she believes his name went by Chan or something, but you’ve never seen him up close until now.

Your trance was cut when you heard Jeongin saying, “just don’t tell Chan about this,” to which the boy holding the door handle lit up his signature smile, “don’t worry about it, I’ll tell the boys not to interrupt you.”

”See you later, (y/n),” he teased before he shut the door, and there he was, gone.

Jeongin sighed and turned back to you with a smirk, “now where were we, before we got rudely inter—“

”Who was he?” You asked him, blank in expression, making Jeongin blink and scratch his head. “That’s Felix, you know, my bandmate? You’ve met him before.”

You nodded at him, ”yeah, but I’m not really good with names,“ you tilted your head to the side, looking at him ‘innocently,’ “I can only pay attention to you.”

Your fake flattering words put an effect on him, seeing how he blushed and nervously laughed, “you were?” he sheepishly questioned, making you nod back at him with a “mhm,” and winked at him. You didn’t really mean any of it, but you did indeed have him as your main targe—I mean main man. You leaned back to him, but he stopped you.

“Why’d you ask?”

”Huh?”

”Why’d you ask about Felix?” He had a face of concern in his face, which made you get taken aback. You sometimes forget that humans aren’t actually that slow, and you’ve noticed that Jeongin’s probably the smartest out of all the men you’ve hun—sorry, hooked up with. He notices details pretty quickly, and questions things when you thought he wouldn’t notice, and you weren’t so sure how to feel about that. However, you still had your eyes on him…

and maybe his bandmates.

”Oh, it’s just I didn’t recognized him with his hair,” you nonchalantly responded back as to not cause suspicion and make him question anything. He nodded back with a smile, “yeah, he changes his hair pretty frequently, it amazes me how he still has hair,” he snickered at the end with a head shake.

”But enough about him, let us finish up with what we started,“ he smirked before he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. You kissed him back, however your mind wasn’t there with you. As he presses his lips into your skin once again, you couldn’t help but look up to the ceiling and start thinking about something that shouldn’t be thought of at the moment, but you have no ounce of care nonetheless. Jeongin would think you were on earth with him when in reality your earth was somewhere else. It’s hitting a meteor…

a meteor named Felix.

~~~

Each day goes by and you examined Felix from a far, you would come to discover so many things from Jeongin’s account, eavesdropping, and just overall observing him. Upon all that, you’ve discovered he enjoyed baking, he was currently teaching himself Korean to enhance his speech, he’s phenomenal at changing his vocal tones and that he often uses his smile and good gestures to get away through things.

You enjoyed studying him, how someone seemingly innocent can be the most manipulative being of all. It felt like you were dealing with one of your kind from afar as well. At dance practice, as a choreographer, you would mainly keep your eyes on Felix, despite Jeongin’s call of attention, which weren’t ignored by any means, but you were still set on Felix. You’re now seated in the couch in the corner, seated next to Jeongin—at good distance as to not cause a havoc for him hooking up with his choreographer that only you two and Felix knew—not paying any mind on what he was saying, as your mind was still occupied with the face of Felix.

“(y/n), is there anything wrong?” Jeongin asked with a worried frown, his palm holding your hand that was placed in your thigh, to which you looked back at him with an awakening tone, “huh? no, no, I’m fine,” you smiled at him, but he didn’t return back, “are you sure? You haven’t been yourself, lately.”

”Yes, Innie, I’m okay,“ You squinted your eyes with a smile, but you can see in your peripheral vision that Felix has left the room to get something. “Listen, I’m gonna go refill my water—“

”Want me to come with you?” Jeongin asked and getting up after seeing you get up, to which you shook your head, “no, no, I’ll be fine, just tell the boys to practice once again, okay?” You rushed as you ran out with your waterbottle, as to not make him question your actual intention.

You weren’t actually going to refill your water, you had a good amount of water in there. You went to check up on Felix and what has been up to. You walked in the hallway and stopped your tracks, hiding behind a wall to peak at him. You saw him, refilling his water bottle and drinking it once done.

“Now‘s your time.”

You said to yourself as you found yourself walk out and meet up with the blonde man. Once he spotted you, he smiled at you, “hey, (y/n), how are you?“

You smiled back at him, it was villainous in nature but it was perfectly masked with a gentle one, “I’m alright what about you?“

“Oh, I’m doing amazing, the dance you taught us was awesome, it made me feel hyped up,” he enthusiastically rambled, which made you raise an eyebrow of amusent, “really?”

You knew the dance was phenomenal, after all you read his mind and knew what he liked in the dance so you did all you could to satisfy him.

He nodded back frantically, “are you kidding me? it was so exciting, I’m amazed at how well you demonstrated it, it’s like as if you knew what type of dance I enjoy doing,” he chuckled in amusement. Oh boy, little does he know...

”Well, I try my best,” you shrugged, trying your best to act humble, to which you see him nod. He pointed at the hallway in front of him, “we should go back, the boys are probably asking for us—“

”Actually, how about you and I hang out for a little?” You suggestively asked. Felix looked at you with a bemused facial expression, “but what about the boys?“ He asked, eyebrows knitted close to each other.

”Don’t worry, I told Jeongin to take care of it,“ you smirked. To say Felix was dumbfounded and confused would be an understatement, as it began to showcase through his face even more evidently. You stuck our your hand, silently inviting him to hold it. He felt like he was hypnotized at this moment as he felt himself holding onto your hand. You held it and you began dragging his whole body to the closet nearby.

After closing the door, you pushed him against the door, and you started pressing your lips against his. His eyes widened at the sudden action, and pushed you away, “wait! wait! (y/n), we can’t do this! I thought you were with Jeongin!” He whispered yell at you, in fear anyone would hear whats behind the closet door.

You shook your head, holding his hand, “Jeongin and I aren’t together, it’s a friends with benefit thing,” you explained, to which Felix looked even confused, “then why does Jeongin keep calling you his girlfriend to me?”

You sighed and looked down, of course he would go and tell him that. “We weren’t an item, he just labeled us without telling me,” you spoke, ‘hurt’ in your expression, “I think he just told you that, because he couldn’t bear the fact that I rejected him,” you sighed. It was a complete utter lie, you never talked to Jeongin about this, never did and never will.

Felix just stood there in silence, curiously as he was waiting for you to finish up your explanation. “I didn’t want to hurt him, but it was the truth, I truly didn’t have feelings for him,” you began to tear up, hoping you would gain sympathy from Felix, which unbelievably worked, as he gave a soft expression to you, rubbing your arm, urging you to carry on ‘venting.’

“I told him we can still be friends, and he told me he was okay with it, so I don’t understand why he would just lie like that..” You wiped your tear, almost ‘sobbing’, which made Felix pull you in for a hug. Felix wrapped his arms around you really tightly, but what he doesn’t know, through your sobs in his shoulders, was a smirking you, silently celebrating that your plan was going on the right track, but he wouldn’t know that.

“It’s okay,” Felix said reassuringly, rubbing your back, which made you go back to your sad facade. You called out his name which he hummed back in response. You pulled away and looked at him in the eyes.

”Can you please kiss me?” You pouted with the question which made Felix smiled gently at you, and nodded. He leaned in and gave you a chaste, quick kiss at first, but when he saw you were unsatisfied, he nodded once again and began kissing you, this time it was much more deeper than the last one.

Within the kiss, Felix flipped your around, making your back go up against the door. He made sure the door was locked, before it proceeded, however he stopped his tracks and pulled away, “do you mind..?” he asked and pointed at the two of you, to which you nodded back at his consent, and pulled him in once again to another heated kiss.

The room was filled with sounds of kissing, moanings and heavy breathings that you hoped—or not—that the walls were soundproof. His hands were roaming around your body, while yours were roaming around his. He tugged onto your sweatpants and underwear, “take these off,” he growled as he pulled them, along with your panties, down. He cursed as he can sense your wet heat when he playfully placed his fingers against it, making you shudder. He would love to make you shake by only his fingers but time is of the essence, before the boys would come around start looking for the two, so if this were to proceed later, he definitely is saving it for another day.

He tells you to turn around, to which you did, while he takes off his pants and boxers.

“Ready?” he asks. You nodded at the question, then you suddenly felt a pressure getting in between your legs, which made you moan. You turned to see Felix holding onto your hips as he began inserting and pulling himself out of you. He cussed at the feeling of your wet hole clenching around his length, and by all things great does he want himself buried inside of you.

He started slow, but gradually he started to piston his cock in and out of you, making you let out a gutteral, yet erotic sounds out of your mouth. He could only groan, grunt and tell you how good he feels in you, all the while he using his well trained dancer hip in you, hitting all the good spots.

You felt yourself about to be released, as well did Felix, just based on the sounds you both were making, and the way Felix held your hips hard enough, bruise might start to form—which can be faded by seconds as to not cause suspicions form anyone, especially not to Jeongin, thanks to your powers.

”I’m gonna cum… where do you want me t—“

”Cum inside me,” you told him, mewling through as you’ve already reached your orgasm. Felix continued, but not long until you felt warm fluid flowing inside of you. You both panted, before he released him out of you, making you groan at the sensation of it coming out.

You both quickly began dressing up and cleaned yourselves up. While doing so, Felix held your arm, making you look at him, “hey, if you ever needed anything, I’m right here,” he said with a gentle smile. You smiled at him, sort of empty and no emotions in it, “yeah, of course, I’ll keep it in mind,” you nodded and after getting done, you left the room, leaving Felix alone in the dark closet.

He stayed behind for a little bit, as he started to think a bit what had just happened. He started to feel something different. Granted it was a quick session, but it wasn’t like any other he had before. He suddenly felt his heart beat in a fast pace, looking down in a confused manner, as he had started to feel something new in his heart.

“Am I in love with her?… no way, I barely even know her?”

His mind was in a battle, but there is no denial that no amount of ammunition getting thrown across through his logical and emotion sides will change the fact he definitely feels something for his choreographer.

[itsatoyboat]

i finished true colors and i’m having a lot of thoughts that i NEED to talk about.

(if this is gonna be long idk, i apologize for your eyeballs)

1. i honestly didn’t like alex at all when i saw the trailer, i was thinking “hmm idk about this one” but as soon as i started to play the game i fell so in love with her, she is so freaking smart and funny, she genuinely cares about the people around her and her story it’s very different from the other characters from LIS anthology. i truly enjoyed seeing alex’s development throughout the game especially her realizing that her powers can actually help the people around her and not harm anyone, the way she controls it after her conversation with gabe was such an awesome upgrade from the alex who was so ashamed of her power to alex superwoman. i liked how the game explored her emotions and her mind about the past, the mine part where alex was struggling to feel everything she felt in those days and then embracing everything was one of my favorite parts. it shows a lot of growth.

2. this game has AMAZING CHARACTERS, every single one of the characters was well written, they had life, they had problems, they had their own emotions with private stuff that was going on in their lives and you could actually talk to them and meet their “layers”. mac for an example was an asshole but i couldn’t pretend i didn’t felt his concern and fear around typhon, the way he was terrified about everyone hating him, he was scared for his life and being very paranoid, i was concerned about him and the game giving you the choice to speak to him or leaving him was a tricking decision cause you could leave him alone suffering or try to help him out, maybe saving his life and this is a lot but he’s alive. the game makes him real and that’s what makes me INSANE about the characters. i know, i’m talking about a game where you’re supposed to feel the characters’ feelings but that could possibly go wrong as well if the characters were shallow and poorly explored and that’s not the case with true colors. they had purpose.

3. alex’s power it’s probably my favorite power. the choices in this game was way harder than the first two games, the craziest thing is you can choose if you want to take someone else’s feeling so they can stop feeling that way, saving them from themselves making alex suffer instead and that's selfish. don’t get me wrong, i’m not calling alex a selfish person but taking someone else’s feeling doesn’t make anything better, you’re taking their right to heal, to be alive and that is so fucking awesome. you have this power to help someone, to “take their pain away” and you will learn that people need to feel what they are supposed to feel so they can move forward cause if we don’t, we are never going to learn. we see that charlotte is pretty angry about gabe’s death, she blames everyone but mostly ethan, she is miserable. alex can choose between taking charlotte’s anger or leave her. if alex takes charlotte’s anger, charlotte is left completely empty, she doesn’t feel anything and when i say anything it’s anything. she is left emotionless and bitter, she doesn’t pass through her way of mourning for gabe and she doesn’t have alex’s back when alex confronts jed. if alex leave charlotte to her anger we have a nice moment between them on the festival, talking about what happened and charlotte gets alex’s back on the black lantern and that’s what i mean from being selfish, if we take someone else’s feelings we are being unfair to them, we are choosing for them and people are supposed to feel, heal in their own time or overcome. by taking charlotte’s anger we deprived her from healing, we are not helping her, we are just making an natural process even more difficult and slower. alex being able to hear what someone is thinking and enter that person’s world from what they are feeling at that moment it’s the best detail for me, everything changes, we get to see the world through that person’s eyes, we can understand them but we decide what to do with that, we can be selfish or actually help. of course, we can take pike’s situation for an example also, if we take his fear we can help him overcome typhon and we get to expose jed but pike’s fear was necessary to take and charlotte was not necessary, pike at least had the pendrive with the recorded calls on it so we had a chance for things to get better.

4. chapter 5 was an amazing ending. finding out the truth about typhon, jed was never a hero, alex confronting her past, the confrontation and seeing who was going to be on your side, alex’s final conversation with gabe and the end, it was better than i thought it could be. i truly loved seeing alex’s past, even with everything that went down she turned to be a good person who wanted to be loved (her passion for music being the thing that helped her connected to me in a lot of levels, that creep cover though i screamed so hard when she started to sing). the mine part was absolutely insane not just alex surviving that fall discovering that gabe was looking for his dad for so long, jed knowing it and all of this time his dad actually died because of jed, alex finding the truth by taking her mom’s necklace back from what was left of that accident it’s so heartbreaking, the confrontation was crazy, i thought no one was going to believe alex because jed was so loved by everyone there it would be so easy to doubt alex and just be on jed’s side which was what ryan did but it’s understandable, jed was his dad, his hero. alex’s speech on jed exposing him after everything was one of the best monologues on that game and man this game had AMAZING dialogues and monologues, everything felt so real and beautiful, the best part of it it’s to forgive jed that’s where alex break him, he regrets everything even more cause when we find out the truth. we find out why jed never enjoyed talking about being the hero of haven springs. at the end jed wasn’t entirely a bad person cause when we forgive him he gives back alex her dad’s jacket talking about how he wanted to give it to gabe but couldn’t, that’s something that made me love even more the characters even jed that was the “villain”, which i don’t think he is. what he did was terrible and he knew that, he tried to pretend nothing happened when alex started to talk but at the end he broke, that always haunted him and that’s the difference between him and jefferson who was actually the villain in life is strange he wasn’t forced to do those things, he killed rachel, he killed chloe, he manipulated nathan, he was going to kill max and if max didn't stopped him on the arcadia bay ending he would kill even more students at blackwell.

5. alex and steph relationship was the purest thing on this game, it was smooth, it was organic, it wasn’t something out of the blue, steph liked alex since the beginning. the plan to pick someone to flirt with diane and get her pendrive i chose ryan and afterwards steph started to feel something, she was so upset that alex used to think ryan was “hotter than her” (i only chose ryan cause i didn’t want to see steph flirting with diane but i saw the scene where we pick steph and omg i should’ve chosen steph cause that scene it’s hilarious), steph was happier around alex, every time she had an opportunity to flirt with alex she took it. seeing their love grow through the chapters was beautiful, i know we can choose ryan over steph but i don’t believe ryan liked alex the way steph did, you can literally see that no matter what alex did steph was going to support her and look at her with so much love and respect and that’s why i think alex and steph’s relationship it’s so pure and right. also they looked so good playing together it’s so cute that they have the same passion for music and THAT LARP SCENE FOR GOD’S SAKE MY HEART MELTED!

6. this part is exclusively to talk about LARP and the fight scenes, it reminded me so much of final fantasy it was so COOL, well thought and so fun. it was awesome to see everyone taking care of ethan and doing their best to make him happy.

7. talking about ethan, this game opened a conversation in my head about charlotte and ethan, i started to think a lot about what charlotte said about ethan how she felt happier when gabe was around and now she was stuck with only ethan again, it made me think that maybe charlotte didn’t want to have a child or if she didn’t had ethan she could have gabe again. that could open a conversation about women who didn’t want to become a mom but it doesn’t mean that charlotte would hurt ethan which makes total sense to decide to leave her alone and not take her anger, she would never hurt ethan. it was again another tricking decision cause we get concerned about ethan when charlotte starts to talk but we know deep down she cares so much about her son, she does everything for him.

life is strange true colors became my favorite life is strange, the story it’s different and great, it’s literally finding the truth about everything, when we understand people’s feelings we discover the truth about them and situations, we understand everything. this game actually made me cry harder and think so much even more than the first one and boy i love the first one so badly. it talks a lot about empathy and how we react to people’s emotions, your choices in this game are way harder than messing with time or moving things with your mind, it’s choices about things that could happen in real life eventually and that is what makes this game so important to me, it’s real.

and also it's the first life is strange to have happy endings like.. ok big steps for my non depression finally

[brawltogethernow]

@mirrorfalls​ submitted: Came across this while searching for James Bond’s scrambled-eggs recipe (long story). Your thoughts?

~~

But did you find James Bond’s scrambled eggs recipe?

In this article, Scocca laments his inability to find accessible, lighthearted superhero comics suitable to read with his young son, while also demonstrating a mysterious aversion to looking at DC and Marvel’s lines of comics for children, which is where the accessible, lighthearted superhero comics suitable for reading with young children are. He wants his elementary schooler to be able to safely have the run of all superhero media so he doesn’t have to touch the yucky baby books.

This is not an industry-wide crisis. This is just one dude who got paid to write an article where he accidentally exposed one of his personal hangups.

The child headed toward the trade paperbacks of Marvel and D.C. superhero titles on the side wall […] a few steps in front of me. […] Is he with you? a clerk asked me. I said he was. You know, the clerk said, we have a kids’ section. The clerk gestured backward, at a few shelves near the entrance. I said, Thanks, we know and tried throwing in a little shrug, as the kid kept going.

You can’t just turn a seven-year-old child loose in a comic-book store to look at the superhero comic books. […] My seven-year-old really wanted to see that last Avengers movie […] that is, he wished it were a movie he could see, but he understood that it was, instead, a movie designed to scare and sadden him—a movie actively hostile to people like him.

They have a children’s section. Because comics are a medium suitable for stories for everybody, and they are sold in comic book shops, which have sections, like bookstores. You can use this organization to find books that you know in advance are suitable for children. What goes in that category is determined by industry professionals. This area will be bigger the bigger the shop is. These comics are not lower quality that titles from the main lines. They are actually slightly better-written on average.

Your local comic book shop has considerately wrapped Empowered in a plastic bag, so your child will not be drawn in by a colorful superhero and accidentally read a graphic scene. If you think your kid might find a memoir about internment camps upsetting, it is your job to notice them picking up They Called Us Enemy and read the blurb on the back before you let them have it. This comic adults are meant to read is in a comic book shop because that is where comics are sold. Not every public place is supposed to be Disneyland.

Movies have ratings systems. If you do not want your child to watch a PG-13 movie, you will find that most superhero cartoons are for children. They are about the same characters. Some are quite good! I really enjoyed Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Your child may like Avengers Assemble. At least I think that’s right. I’m always mixing those titles around.

This is a deeply weird bias for Scocca to casually demonstrate, because he identifies in the article that real childishness is striving for empty maturity.

He compares an old comic,

[…]a 1966 Spider-Man comic in which Spider-Man meets, fights, and defeats the Rhino; participates in a running argument between John Jameson and J. Jonah Jameson about his heroism; buys a motorcycle; breaks up with his first girlfriend, Betty Brant; flirts with Gwen Stacy; and reluctantly agrees to let Aunt May take him to meet her friend Mrs. Watson’s niece, Mary Jane.

and a new comic,

[…]a 21st century comic book in which Thor, brooding in a Katrina-destroyed New Orleans, beats up Iron Man. He also yells at Iron Man a lot about some incomprehensibly convoluted set of grievances, including involuntary cloning, that he believes Iron Man perpetrated against him while he was dead(?), and then summons some other Norse god from the beyond somehow for reasons having something to do with real estate. I think. Where the 1966 comic is zippy and fun and complete, the whole contemporary one is muddled and lugubrious and seems to constitute a tiny piece of a seemingly endless plot arc—simultaneously apocalyptic and inert.

and concludes that the edgier comic is actually less mature. This is true. (This is not news about mediocre comics.)

It also has nothing to do with either comic being child-friendly, the article’s nominal thesis, except in the sense that ASM #41 (yes, I eyeballed that from that summary, yes I am just showing off now) is better written, making it more everyone-friendly. It also has practically more space dedicated to word balloons than art and is about a college student juggling girl problems and a part-time job with a tyrannical boss. But the immature one, as Scocca points out, is dour.

These are both teenagery issues, separated only by quality. It’s true that lots of new comics published by the big 2 are bad in the specific way Scocca describes here, taking themselves too seriously and hauled down by associated stories instead of buoyed by them. Some are not! Some titles from these companies’ main continuities are zippy, contained, and child friendly. Give your child The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl! Or if you like vintage comics so much better, why don’t you…buy some?

The books on the kid’s rack are good and fun and totally suitable for parents to read with their children without wanting to scoop their eyeballs out. Scocca cites the Batman ‘66 comics as the brightly colored, tightly written all ages solution to his problem about sharing superhero stories with his son. My local comic shop stores this title in the kid’s section. I am glad that Scocca’s does not, as he seems to have a peculiar aversion to looking for comics to read with his son there.

Scocca cites Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse as a superhero movie he could watch with his kids. (I was surprised when this line made it sound like he has several. I don’t want to assume the other one isn’t in this article because they’re a girl, but I very much am assuming that.) Great! Go to the kid’s section and look for Marvel Adventures: Spider-Man. It’s a fun, zippy title directly inspired by ITSV where Miles, Gwen, and Peter superhero together. It’s much more tightly written than most of the various Spider-Verse comics, which are ambitiously messy ubercrossovers. You may not want to give those to children because they include murder and so on, but also you just have the choice between the two as an adult reader deciding how much continuity you want to deal with. Adventures is one of the only titles I would buy on sight before corona. The kid comic rack is a reliable place to take a break from How Comics Get Sometimes regardless of how old you are.

This article makes me feel quarrelsome. Maybe it’s that it doesn’t seem like exploration of a single idea so much as a loosely grouped bundle of things to kvetch about. Maybe it’s that the experience of getting into superheroes that Scocca describes experiencing, projects his seven-year-old son will experience, and from which he extrapolates a metaphorical microcosm of the history of the genre is completely alien to me.

Comic books [and] comic-book movies—are […] trapped in their imagined audience’s own awful passage from childhood to adolescence. A seven-year-old has a clean […] appreciation of superheroes. They like hero comics because the comics have heroes: bold, strong, vividly colored good guys to fight off the bad guys and make the world safe.

But seven-year-olds stop being seven. […] They become 13-year-olds, defensively trying to learn how to develop tastes about tastes.

The 13-year-old wants many things from comics, but the overarching one is that they want to prove that they’re not some seven-year-old baby anymore. They want gloomy heroes, miserable heroes, heroes who would make a seven-year-old feel bad. (Also boobs. They want boobs.)

Not because of the boobs line, although that does illicit an eyeroll that this gloomy thinkpiece is fretting over preserving the superhero experience of little boys who resemble the little boy the writer was while casually dismissing everyone else. I was one of those unlikable little seven-year-olds with a college reading level and the impression that maintaining it was the crux of my worth. I only read Books - distinguished media you could club someone with. I have a formative memory of pausing, enraptured, in front of a poster for Spider-Man 3, preparing to say that it looked pretty cool, and being beaten to the punch by my mother making a disparaging comment about how the movie was trash. It wasn’t out yet, but it was a superhero movie. That meant it was for loud, brainless children.

That was the total of my childhood experience with superheroes, excluding being the unwilling audience to incessant renditions of “Jingle Bells, Batman Smells” that left me wondering why in god’s name Batman’s sidekick was named Robin. I certainly never visited a comic book shop. I got into TvTropes, which got me into webcomics, which got me following David Willis, who got me into Ask Chris at ComicsAlliance, which led to me rewarding myself for studying like a demon for the AP tests with three volumes of Waid’s Daredevil, pitched as a return to the character being colorful and swashbuckling. I was seven…teen.

This is of the same thread as Scocca’s point that immaturity is running from childish things. It leaves me baffled that he doesn’t follow that maturity is embracing them.

I will disclose here that while I think it was dumb I had to overcome my upbringing’s deeply embedded shame associated with enjoying arbitrarily defined lowbrow media and children being childish, I think it’s fine that I was allowed largely unchecked access to technically age-inappropriate content. In my limited experience, content small children are too young for is also content they’re too young to understand, so it kind of just bounces off of them, and what actually ends up terrorizing them is unpredictable collages of impressions that strike out at them from content deemed perfectly child-friendly. I would not forbid a seven-year-old I was in charge of from seeing an MCU movie unless I had a reason to believe that specific child would not take it well. These are emotionally low-stakes bubblegum films. It will probably be easier to socialize with other kids if they have seen them.

But then, when I picture being in charge of a hypothetical child, I usually imagine this being the case because they are related to me, and the pupal stage in my family strongly resembles Wednesday Addams. ALL children love death and violence, though, right?? This isn’t a joke point. I know it looks like a joke point.

The MCU thing seems especially weird in light of the article’s particular focus on Spider-Man, which is the kiddie line of the MCU, even if they refused to waver from their usual formula enough to get a lower rating. Though I am more inclined to describe it as “preying on the young” than “child-friendly”.

(MCU movies are increasingly dubious propaganda, but I would not judge them in front of a child who wanted to watch them for that reason, just in case this led to them partaking of them without me the second they were old enough to and then they grew up to run a blog about them while our relationship suffered because they didn’t feel like it was safe to talk to me about their interests…Mom.)

I tried to overcome the philosophy of letting anyone read anything while compiling this handful of mostly-newish superhero recs for the road that anyone can read. (Handily, I have been in spitting distance of being hired as a comic shop clerk enough to have thought about it before):

For actual children:

Marvel Adventures Spider-Man (the new one is reminiscent of ITSV, the old one is more like 616) any DC/Archie crossover, Archie’s Superteens The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl (for bookish children who think they’re too good for comics and adults afraid of the kid’s section) Teen Titans Go (even if you hate the show) Superman Smashes the Klan

For teens:

Ms. Marvel Young Avengers (volume 2) Unbelievable Gwenpool Batman: Gotham Adventures Teen Titans Go (the tie-in comic based off the old show was also called this)

Here are a bunch of relevant C. S. Lewis quotes.

[talonwings]

Who We Are - Empires SMP writing

a gift for you, empiresblr, courtesy of my now 5 hours of fWhip headcanons. feel free to kill me when you're done. (also sorry i don't yet have an AO3 i can link to, i've been on the wait list foreeevvveerrr).

CW for slight body horror, angst, and i guess suffocation kind of?

“fWhip? Hello? Are you in here?”

He heard the call--how could he not have, when the voice was hers? Still, he did not move, remaining where he slumped against the wall of the underground room. One of the redstone crystals blooming from the stone was jammed against his shoulder blade, but even the pain could not entice him to rise.

“fWhip, come out!” Gem’s voice was a mixture of frustration and concern, a tone he rarely heard from her--well, the frustration he had heard before, but the worry was new. Gem almost never fretted about anything; it was how she had kept him and Sausage so well in line up until now.

“I’m going to come down there!” The threat echoed down the passageway that separated the secret room from the unassuming shopfront above it. “I know where your lair is, it isn’t a secret! Don’t make me come down there!”

“Don’t,” fWhip rasped. “Please.”

Gem either couldn’t or didn’t hear him. “I’m giving you one minute, and then I’m coming down there whether you like it or not!”

“Please,” he tried again, but his voice would not obey him. It petered out almost as soon as it passed his lips. He licked them, swallowed, coughed, tried a third time. “Gem, please, go away.”

This time, it seemed, she did hear, for she answered, “I will not go away! Nobody’s seen you in two weeks, fWhip! We’re worried sick!”

“I’m fine,” he croaked--a lie.

“You don’t sound fine,” she retorted. “I’m coming down.”

He opened his mouth to warn her off again, but the tell-tale sound of the painting door sliding back masked whatever he might have tried to say. Seconds later, her footsteps started up, the familiar click of those heeled purple boots getting ever louder as she marched along the passageway toward his laboratory.

fWhip’s gaze darted around in a panic, searching out anyplace that would be suitable to hide. He hadn’t moved from his current spot in over twelve hours, and his limbs protested as he shoved himself violently to his feet, teetering off-balance from the unfamiliar motion. Finally, he settled on a small cranny near the back of the chamber, and limped over to it, cramming himself inside just as Gem’s footfalls indicated that she had reached the door to the lab itself. He heard her swing it open, and then her voice, much clearer now, softly called, “fWhip? Where are you?”

“Go away,” he replied, hating the stony rasp that he couldn’t seem to get rid of now. “Don’t want to see you.”

“Well, that’s just rude,” she replied. He could imagine the look on her face, and fought against the lump it brought to his throat. He wanted to apologize, to beg for her forgiveness, to throw himself into her arms.

“Didn’t ask you to come,” he croaked instead.

“No, actually, Jimmy did,” Gem replied waspishly. “Your enemy. You remember him? The one you stole his most precious possession from? He sent me a message three days ago to tell me he hadn’t seen or heard from you in over a week. Mind you, this was after I’d been questioned by Sausage, Pearl, and Shrub as to why you’ve missed the last two alliance meetings. fWhip, even your enemies are worried about you. Where have you been?”

Oh, if only you knew. His mouth twisted with a hateful, bitter little smile. “Busy.”

Gem audibly scoffed. “Right.”

“Leave, Gem.” The order tasted strange in his mouth, when he desperately wanted her to stay.

“Not until I see you.” He heard her start moving around the room, picking things up and nudging them with her feet, rearranging boxes and sliding barrels aside as she searched.

“Leave.” The cranny was small, but he squashed himself further inside anyway, stone scraping against all the places where his skin was exposed.

“Are you back there?” His stomach squeezed with terror as he heard her move toward him, squeezing between two of the suspension tubes where he had once stored specimens he was researching. “I can’t see you.”

“Please, leave, please.” If he couldn’t order her, he could at least beg her. “Gem, please, if you care about me at all, go away.”

“fWhip, I do care about you,” she said gently. “That’s why I’m here in the first place. Please come out. I just want to know you’re safe.”

He could feel his heart ripping itself in half--desperation to hide warring violently with the desire to finally be seen, even if it would cost him everything. It felt like it might burn a hole in his chest, and his hands tightened reflexively into fists as he battled himself for what seemed an eternity.

“Please, little brother,” Gem whispered.

It was as if she had caved his chest in. A sob dragged itself from his throat before he could stop it, but he finally let himself unfurl from the cranny to drape limply across the floor, gazing up at his sister’s blue-violet eyes as they widened in shock, which turned to horror, which turned to sorrow.

“Oh, fWhip…” Gem reached out a hand toward him, but hesitated, drawing her fingers back before she could reach him. “What happened?”

“You really want to know?” He had to shove back another sob with a monumental effort, watching the way her fingers trembled as she gazed at him. “Or do you want to leave, like I told you to before?”

“No, I would never,” she gasped. “Not now. Not like this.” She sat down on the floor, her violet cloak flowing behind her like a pool of silky water, and slid closer to him, although not quite close enough for their hands to touch. “Tell me what happened.”

He let his eyes drift away from hers, toward the ceiling and the red crystals dripping from its shadowy recesses. “Well, it began two weeks ago.”

Two weeks earlier…

fWhip was not a stranger to surprises, but he liked receiving them far less than he liked planning them.

It had been a long elytra flight from the undisclosed location of the Wither Rose headquarters back to his home in the Grimlands, and the multiple hours in the air were wearing on his body--even though he had been wearing his scarlet goggles for the duration, his eyeballs still ached as if the wind had been hammering them, as did his shoulder blades from the yank and drift of the elytra against his own muscles.

“Maybe next time I take a horse,” he muttered to himself as he angled in for the landing. The deepslate roofs of the Grimlands were beginning to glide by beneath him now, and he made for the circular patch of dirt at the back of the manor that was his customary landing site, his eyes trained on it until something else caught his attention.

“I am positive that was not there before…” One hand came up to tap his chin as his gaze caught on the massive outcrop of deepslate that had bloomed at the front corner of the manor gardens, studded with glinting redstone crystals. A darker shadow within the ring-shaped formation suggested there might possibly be a hole there, though how deep was indiscernible from this far above.

“If somebody has been trying to steal from me again--wait.” fWhip narrowed his eyes at the spot, investigating it more closely now, for it seemed more familiar the closer he drew. He could vaguely recall setting a circle of rocks within the closed hedges, and in their center, a red container, filled with--

“Damn! Xornoth again!” His breath huffed out harshly as he realized what had happened. First the explosion, and now this…

Veering off-course from his typical spot, he carefully glided down until he was low enough to snap the elytra closed and drop gracefully to the ground between the wide hedge rows. From down here, the deepslate ring seemed much larger than it had from the air, its jagged edges stabbing into the blue sky. He could tell now that there was, indeed, a hole at the center, exactly where he had placed the shulker-box filled with Xornoth’s corruption.

“Damn,” he whispered again. He edged closer, peering carefully at the hole as he neared in an attempt to see what might be at the bottom. It appeared to be deeper than he was tall, however, and he was forced to maneuver up to the very lip of the hole to get a good look at the bottom. Thankfully, there did seem to be a bottom, lurking maybe ten feet below the surface; the depths of the hole were quite dark, though, only dimly illuminated by patches of glimmering red crystals, and he was unable to determine much more than that.

fWhip wondered, briefly, if he ought to just ignore the hole. Common sense would seem to suggest that it was involved with Xornoth in some way, and therefore worthy of at least being avoided for the time being until he could request the help of his allies. fWhip, however, whether fortunately or not, had always been availed of a strong sense of curiosity--it was how he had developed so many of his gadgets and tools. Besides that, there was something about the depths of the small hole that seemed to call to him, and him specifically.

He glanced around, taking stock of who might be nearby in case he needed to call for help, and saw no one in the immediate vicinity. There was a groundskeeper’s cottage just on the other side of the hedge row, but he had no way of knowing whether anyone might be inside.

“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to take a chance,” he murmured. “Here goes.”

Gingerly, he sat down at the edge of the hole, dangling his legs off the side and exploring for possible footholds. It took him a minute, but his toes finally caught on a ledge, and he was able to hoist himself down and into the vertical shaft. Thankfully, the same jagged-edged property of deepslate that made it look menacing also made it excellent for climbing, and he had relatively little difficulty lowering himself the full ten or eleven feet to the bottom, where his feet landed on solid stone. Looking up, he was surprised how dim the sky seemed to be after such a short descent.

Now what? he thought to himself as he gazed around at the narrow walls on all sides. Surely I didn’t make an ass of myself climbing down here for no reason.

He had but a few seconds to wonder, as a strange hiss caught his attention, echoing from the rock walls. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but the small hole began rapidly to fill with a reddish mist, which, when he inhaled it, made the inside of his nose and throat burn as if he had inhaled fire. He coughed, accidentally inhaled again, and coughed more violently, and still the stuff spewed into the cavern, and he began to wonder whether this was a trap, and whether he had been an idiot for climbing down here, and whether his allies--his friends, his sister--would find his corpse rotting down here. His hands scrabbled for handholds to lever himself back up, but the mist had filled his eyes now, and it stung, forcing him blindly to his knees. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, could barely think. Lights danced behind his eyelids, and his throat was a tunnel of fire, and then he was unconscious, and knew no more.

Present day…

“And the next thing I knew, I woke up. And...this.” fWhip gestured down to himself, unable to keep his mouth from curling like he had tasted something sour. “Or, well, part of it.”

“Part of it?” Gem cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it was just the wings at first.” He tugged at the grey-black appendages, hating that he could feel it when his fingers brushed the leathery flesh. “And to be honest, I thought they were awesome. Who hasn’t dreamed of having wings? Sure, they looked a little gargoyle-ish, but it seemed like a small price to pay for not having to use elytra anymore. And it felt like the redstone magic was helping me, maybe giving me a gift to fight against Xornoth. I thought it might be something good.”

“And then…” Gem prompted when he trailed off.

“And then...the rest started,” he whispered. “I tried to ignore it at first. I thought maybe I was hallucinating, or getting sick, because it started with just my eyes, and I felt like maybe it would go away if I just, I don’t know, pretended not to notice. But then it was my skin, and then my hands, and then...and then my face.” He turned away from her as a visible shudder made its way through him. “I look disgusting.”

“Why didn’t you call us for help?” Gem murmured.

“Because it was my fault it happened!” he growled, shaking his head. “Because I was an idiot and went down that hole and breathed in that gas, and now I’m a monster, and I have no one to blame but myself. Because I couldn’t wait for you.”

“fWhip, no!” He could see the glimmer of moisture in her eyes, and he hated himself even more for it, for making her upset. “It isn’t your fault. You didn’t know what would happen, and you’ve always been an investigator. And now you’ve had to suffer alone, and I had no idea, and…” Her voice caught. “I was so worried. I thought maybe the demon…and especially after those dreams...”

He swallowed. “I...I’m sorry. I just...I didn’t know how to face everyone like this.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, simply listening to their own breaths. Finally, Gem said, “It doesn’t look that bad, you know.”

fWhip eyed her dubiously. “Gem, I look like a gargoyle. Like some kind of…” The word demon couldn’t force itself out, but he could see she understood, for she vigorously shook her head.

“No, you don’t look anything like that,” she said. After a long pause, she quietly added, “You look like my little brother.”

He tried, but couldn’t stop the tears from sliding down his cheeks. “Thanks,” he whispered.

She reached over and finally took his hand, and he almost shouted with joy at the touch of another person; her skin was warm and soft, her delicate tiny fingers gentle as they closed around his rough, clawed ones.

“We’ll figure this out,” she promised. “Together.”

He nodded, and squeezed her hand. “Together.”

[dreamescapeswriting]

One Summer In Paris ~ JJK ~ Three Little Words

WORD COUNT: 4.7 K 

GENRE: Fluffy, romance, ex-lovers to lovers, 

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

DESCRIPTION: Jeon Jungkook had always loved Paris with its amazing views, incredible museums and the small Bookshop right across from the Effiel Tower. It was were he spent a lot of his summer breaks as a kid so he loved it well into his adulthood. There was one bookshop he rented a room in the summer that changed his life. It was a place where he felt happy and at peace whenever he had the chance to stay there. Where he fell in love for the first time and had his first heartbreak, a lot of firsts for him were in Paris. But what happens when he goes back to the same book shop four years later and finds the love of his life in the arms of another with a daughter who looks suspiciously like him…

THEMES: Single Parent, Jungkook x Fem!Reader, self insert, Smut will be included in a later chapter

MASTERLIST || PREVIOUS || NEXT 

The next morning you woke up early for the shop while Areum stayed in bed like she usually did whenever you opened up, instead of part-time work as you worked summers ago you were now running the shop full time and managing everything inside of the store since Grace to was far too old and busy to do any of it for herself. You carefully closed the door to your apartment before heading down the staircase to go and open the front door for Grace to come inside. 

"Morning Madame Grace, you're here early." She hummed unapprovingly at you she must have remembered who Jungkook was but she was carrying a basket in her hand.  

"I don't want any funny business with that boy, I brought this around for you and David later. He'll drop in after work," Grace stated as she looked at you disapprovingly, she made it no secret that she didn't like you and Jungkook together. Even the day he left you, she made it clear how much she hated him. You nodded taking the basket through the store and placing it into the small kitchen while Grace began making herself at home in the small shop. She still came around every day like she owned the place which was sweet since she was letting you run the place for her while only paying your rent.

"Are you staying here for the day?" You questioned her as you looked up from the basket and over at her, Grace was looking around the store before her eyes met yours. She'd been looking for any signs that Jungkook was there in the store and when she realises he wasn't there she answered your question.

"I think I'll stay here today. Watch the shop for you, Graham wants to go to the Louvre today." You nodded along with her as she began talking to you telling you what Graham - her husband - wanted to do for the day, the door to the shop opened and you glanced over your shoulder to tell whoever it was that you weren't open yet. 

"We're not open yet-" You stopped when you saw Jungkook standing in the entrance holding a brown paper bag and a tray of drinks in his hands, he held them up higher to signal what he was there for. 

"I thought I should bring some breakfast for Areum, I didn't know what she liked so I just got something of everything." Thoughts crowded your head of how sweet he was being with his daughter and you nodded slowly. Looking at Grace who was grumbling under her breath as she walked out of the shop telling you that she would be back later with David to watch over the shop for you if she and Graham were done for the day. 

"I'll just lock the door and you can come and wake her up." You spoke softly and he watched as you let Grace out, then went to the staircase with him he knew where to go but since he hadn't been here in over four years it seemed wrong to go up the staircase without you. He kept his eyes on the steps as you walked in front of him in nothing but a black shirt and some denim shorts.

"Areum?" You called out knocking on the small door that led into her room, it was originally the walk-in wardrobe since the apartment you now lived in was just a studio apartment. You'd done everything you could to make the room livable for her and she seemed to love it. 

"She's in the wardrobe?" Jungkook frowned looking at the door you were knocking on. The white door had a princess castle with her name written across it, he could already tell just how much his daughter loved the thought of being a princess.

"I decorated it to make it a bedroom, we got some dressers for our clothes instead, it's no longer a wardrobe." You told him as you slowly pushed the door open to reveal what the room looked like, he was shocked. It looked nothing like the wardrobe that used to be there, it was now a fully pink bedroom with a Princess castle bed where Areum was asleep in some Princess Pyjamas with matching sheets. The whole room had taken forever to perfect but you managed, with Grace's help as she drew out blueprints for the room to be fit for a small princess.

"She likes Princesses?" You nodded your head and smirked walking over to one of the wardrobes that were inside the room, these were all filled with her dress-up clothes and toys.

"She also loves Marvel and Star wars." You reached into the wardrobe pulling out a Kylo Ren outfit, then a baby Yoda toy that you'd recently gotten her. Jungkook smiled happy that she got his nerdy side as well and that he could bond with her on things that they liked.

"Areum, baby? Look who's here." You whispered softly going over to her and shaking her gently trying not to startle her too much from what you were sure was an amazing dream of hers, 

"Five more minutes." She grumbled tugging at the bright pink blanket and pulling it over her head but you pulled it back down and tickled her sides. The girl didn't even move an inch, she was like a rock whenever he slept.

"She's like you, so hard to wake up." You grumbled, your daughter mumbled something in her sleep before rolling over to look at you when she saw Jungkook standing there, her eyes widened as she realised he'd come back like he said he would.

"You came back?" He nodded holding up the bag of food that he'd been carrying, 

"I thought we could have some breakfast together." She immediately jumped out of the bed taking his hand in hers and began leading him towards the kitchen, telling him how she would make pancakes or something instead of whatever was in the bag. It didn't look the most appealing.

"Can we not burn our kitchen down? I have to go downstairs, Areum make sure you behave for your dad- For Jungkook." She nodded watching you walk out of the door she was making sure that you were gone before she turned back to Jungkook. She stared into his eyes taking on the confident look as she began interrogating him, 

"Why did you leave my mum?" He almost choked on the air he was breathing hearing her ask him so bluntly about something and she stared at him waiting for an answer. Tapping her foot against the floor as she placed her hands on her hips

"Do you like eggs? Pancakes?" She stared at him as he avoided her questions, she wanted answers from him 

"David makes my pancakes into the shape of Minnie Mouse...Actually, he makes them in the shape of blobs." Jungkook bubbled with anger at the thought of someone else making his daughter breakfast that wasn't him nor you. He didn't know who this man was and now he was finding out that he spent mornings with you both. His family, the love of his life and someone else was making you breakfast. His grip on the tray of drinks tightened so he placed them down so he wouldn't spill them.  

"Does David make you breakfast a lot?" She nodded her head seeing no reason to lie to Jungkook. She was only young so she didn't see the big deal with David making her food. 

"He's normally here every morning but he's busy lately." He hummed and began making pancakes for Areum making sure he was making them in the shape of Minnie Mouse for her just to prove that he was better than this David guy. Trying to push down the bubbling anger and jealously that was raising inside of him.

"Mummy! Mummy! Look!" You looked behind you on the ladder as Areum came running into the bookshop wearing a bright pink tutu, matching pink tights and a bright pink top and a tiara. You smirked as you climbed down from the ladder. 

"Did Jungkook let you pick your own outfit?" You laughed looking as she began twirling around in circles and waving a small pink wand that she had in her hand acting as though she was casting spells around the shop. 

"We're playing dress-up!" She cried out, spinning around in circles as the door to the shop opened and David walked through the shop in a pair of jeans and a white shirt holding up some flowers. Sunflowers and red roses were grouped together in a small bouquet, Areum stopped turning and looked at David giving him what you thought was a dirty look but you brushed it off, going over to David to greet him with a kiss. Areum was still giving David a dirty look but you couldn't think what her problem was, she normally loved him coming around.

"You're dressed awfully bright today, what are you doing?" He knelt down to greet Areum but she twirled away from him acting as though she wasn't bothered he was there. 

"Me and my daddy are playing dress-up together." You froze as David stared at you, you'd never told him where Areum's dad was either and not to mention who he was. David straightened as he stared at you, wondering why you hadn't told him there was another man in the apartment right now.

"Her dad?" His voice came out cold as he dropped the bouquet down onto the counter, you swallowed the lump in your throat trying to come up with something you could say that would explain it in the most basic way possible. But before you could even think of something Jungkook came into the bookshop with his sleeves rolled up exposing all of the tattoos you'd never seen before including one of an eyeball you thought looked kind of like yours. It was the same colour as yours but it was common for people to have eye's tattooed on then, you shook your head trying to stay in the moment.

"O-Oh erm, Jungkook this is David, David this is Jungkook-"

"I'm Areums father," Jungkook cut you off as he tried to establish his dominance here. They shook hands but you could tell Jungkook was squeezing David's hand just a little as they stared into one another eyes as if they were having some kind of secret men-only conversation between one another. 

"Where have you been? Y/n's been raising Areum alone for four years." David asked cockily as he tilted his head to the side. You stared at David as he said that and you stepped between them, splitting them apart so that nothing would happen. The tension in the air was thick, thick enough that you could cut it with a knife. 

"I never told him I was pregnant, not that it's down to you to know that." You told him from the start of the relationship that he wasn't going to be like a father to Areum but to David, it felt as though you were defending Jungkook.  

"What are you doing here anyway?" You questioned putting the step ladder away as Jungkook and Areum began to chase one another through the aisles of books, laughing and joking to one another. It was nice to see how close they'd grown over such a short time. You watched them both closely questioning what life would have been like if he'd stuck around with you...If he'd even have stayed if he had known you were pregnant with his child.

"Didn't Grace tell you?" Oh fuck. Your date, you'd forgotten altogether until he walked through the door. You were supposed to call in Audrey the part-timer that was working for you over the summer but you'd forgotten to when Jungkook came to the door that morning. Grace would be back later but that wasn't until later,

"I can't. Audrey isn't here and I can't leave Areum alone-" Jungkook came over after catching the end of your conversation, 

"Leave her alone where?" Jungkook questioned, raising his eyebrow at you, you shook your head, 

"David and I were supposed to go out but I was distracted and forgot to call in the part-timer or a babysitter." He shook his head looking at Areum who was now holding her head and sitting on the floor too dizzy from the spinning she had been doing. Jungkook chuckled softly looking at her and then back up to you.

"I'll watch her, shut up shop for a while. It won't hurt right?" You supposed not but you looked at Jungkook worriedly. 

"You can trust me Y/n." It wasn't the fact that you couldn't trust it, it was just that you'd heard that from his mouth before which was why you were still nervous about it but you went against your gut and nodded. 

"Thanks, you guys can sit upstairs while I go out. We won't be out late." David watched you as you walked over to Areum to tell her where you were going. He wasn't happy with the fact that you said you wouldn't be out late, he had plans he wanted to stick to with you. Jungkook took this time to look at David properly, from one look he knew he wasn't right for you in any way shape or form. David was boring, he looked like he led a boring lifestyle and had a boring job and he was clearly easily forgettable if you forgot you had a date. As soon as Jungkook saw you struggling to say no to going out he decided to offer his babysitting abilities. He would be able to tell how you feel about David when you came home from the date. 

"What do you do for a living?" It was his turn to interrogate someone this time,

"I'm an accountant, why?" David snapped, Jungkook was smirking in his mind. The guy was easily wound up which wasn't good for him, Jungkook would use that to his advantage. Jungkook shook his head and leant on the counter, he still had many questions for David but he knew he wasn't going to be able to get through all of them since you were only with Areum. 

"Do you want kids?" He began looking down at the bunch of flowers he'd brought along with him. It was a boring and plain bunch if it was Jungkook taking you out he would have brought an extravagant bunch and made sure you put them in water first.

"If you're asking if I like Areum I do, she's a wonderful girl." Jungkook stared at him and then at you as you came walking over wondering what they were talking about, David seemed tense and Jungkook was relaxed against the counter. 

"I'll go and grab the basket." You mumbled, leaving them both as you went towards the back kitchen area. 

"Where are you going?" Jungkook went back to questioning David as soon as you were out of earshot and he knew it was safe to do so again, 

"Going to take her by the Tuileries garden for a picnic," Inside Jungkook was smirking as he remembered the time he took you there for a date it was one of your favourites places to go and he wondered how many other places you'd been to together with him that you'd been with David. Then he wondered if you'd thought about him while you were out with David if you even liked him enough to keep dating him. If Jungkook still had a chance with you.

"Ready?" You asked, coming over with the basket and looking at David who was staring intently at Jungkook. You frowned watching the two of them engage in, another, silent alpha-male conversation. 

"Sure thing babe." He wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek, something David would never do with you. He was never big on public display's of affection, he regularly told you how disgusting he found it. That and he would never use a nickname with you like that because you told him how much you hated it. The only reason you hated it was because Jungkook was the only one you allowed to call you cute nicknames.

Sitting on the grass you looked around trying to ignore the thoughts going around in your head. You hadn't meant for this, you knew you were there with David but now Jungkook was back in your life you couldn't help but remember the last time you were here with him. The last time you'd been together here, the way you acted around one another.  

"So I told Quinn that if he was going to make it such a big deal..." You were drowning out the boring joke he always told you and stared over at the trees where you and Jungkook had carved your initials into it, part of you wanted to run over and see if it was still there but you knew that you shouldn't. Not while David was there with you at least. You knew you should have been focussing on whatever David was saying because he was now looking at you as if he'd asked you a question, 

"Sorry. I was just lost in thought, what?" He chuckled shaking his head at you and feeding you one of the grapes from the basket, it was filled with different foods. None of which you were hungry for, your brain was taking over with thoughts of Jungkook and Areum, how it would be to have a picnic with them instead. 

"I was asking when Areums dad came back?" You looked down at the blanket and shook your head not wanting to go into detail about it all. 

"Last night, he just sort showed up when I wasn't expecting it." He nodded going back to talking about himself as he always did and you stared at the blanket again remembering the last time you saw Jungkook like this. Walking hand in hand to go and put a padlock on the railings full of lovers padlocks, kissing at the top of the Effiel Tower, it had been the most romance you'd ever experienced in your life and you doubted you'd ever get that again. You only ever get one true love and for it it was Jungkook. Your gut sank as you thought about everything you'd been through together, the longer you thought about it the more David began to fade from your mind.

"We've never really spoken about us before..." You frowned at what David was saying, he'd just been walking in silence and now he was staring at you. You were walking side by side past the river near the shop together and he waited for you to ask what he meant.

"Our future." He said as he realised you weren't following along with what he was saying but as soon as the words left his mouth your heart sank. The truth was you'd never seen a future for you and David before, you weren't even sure you liked him as more than a friend and a friend was a push. He was so monotonous and uptight you thought he might crack if you ever told him about the things you and Jungkook used to do on days off. All the adventures you used to go on together. David's idea of an adventure was going to the Effiel Tower and travelling to the top.

"What do you mean?" You questioned dumbly as you tried to play it off as you didn't know what he was talking about. You didn't want to have this conversation. Not here, not now, not ever.

"Well, I mean...I have strong feelings for you Y/n and you've never put anything forward to suggest that back. We're together but we're not together." You knew what he meant, when you first started dating there had been something there but over time it just faded and now with Jungkook showing up your heart was at a crossroads. You'd never really wanted to date David it was just something Grace pushed you into. Telling you that you needed to get back into dating. 

"I love you Y/n." 

Walking into the shop later that day you found it to be silent so you walked up the stairs to the apartment, the sun was setting outside so it was too early for either of them to be asleep. It had taken you forever for you to convince David that you were tired and wanted to go back to the apartment alone. That you needed time to think over what he'd said to you and that you didn't need him to come back with you. You just needed to be away from him, all you could think about was Jungkook whenever you looked at him. Thinking about the first time Jungkook told you he loved you and how different it had made you feel. When Jungkook told you he loved you it was as if the whole world changed. You could have started floating on a cloud but when David said the same thing it was as if you were in a lead hot-air-balloon and heading straight to the floor. It was wrong to compare everything to Jungkook but it was the only example of love you had, it made you feel uneasy to be around David right now. The sad thing was that you were still madly in love with Jungkook and you knew you always would be no matter what happened, he was still the love of your life and the father of your daughter.

"I mourned for you!" Your daughter yelled out snapping you out of the daydream you seemed to be having. You frowned, walking into the living room to see them both watching Avengers on the big Tv, they were curled up on the sofa reciting lines from the first avenger's movie and you smiled at the sight of them. 

"Does mother know you weareth her drapes?" Jungkook chuckled before looking over at the door to see you, he smiled weakly as he waited to see what had happened on your date. You were alone so it was a good sign that things weren't going well.

"How was your date?" He could already tell by the look on your face that you didn't want to talk about it and it filled him with hope at the thought of the date being bad. You clearly didn't like David a lot since you kept him at arm's length but something was different now, Jungkook could sense that something had happened on the date that was making you feel weird.

"Areum go and brush your teeth baby," She walked out of the living room not questioning it. It was still light out so she sat in the bathroom waiting for the all-clear that she could come out. Jungkook continued to watch you as he paused the movie frowning when he saw how you dismissed your daughter from the room.  

"Did something happen?" You shook your head, you didn't need to tell Jungkook about the shit love life that you had when he'd probably danced in and out of relationships since being with you. It was clear over the years he'd had his fair share of women from what you'd seen in magazines, you weren't an idiot you kept up with the things he was doing in his life mostly to make sure he wasn't planning on coming back to Paris but there had been nothing about him coming this summer. 

"No, we had a nice date, he walked me home and that was it." Jungkook laughed softly as he already had it figured out by the look on your face and the way you were trying to dismiss him now. 

"He told you he loved you didn't he?" He scoffed, he knew how you felt about love. The first time you had a conversation about it with Jungkook you told Jungkook you never thought it could be real.

"Not that it's any of your business but yes-" Jungkook's blood began to boil again at the thought of you saying it back to him,

"Did you say it back?" You froze and Jungkook froze as he stared at you, realising that there was a possibility that you did love David, not that Jungkook could see any real reason why. 

"You don't love him?" He questioned, his voice coming out softly as he looked at you. His body slowly un-tensed as he realised you weren't sure how you were feeling. 

"I don't know." You mumbled, playing with your keys as you tried to avoid looking up at Jungkook.

"You don't know?" He quizzed,

"No," You answered blankly not wanting to get into this right now. 

"No you don't love him or no you don't know?" He questioned quickly as he got up from the sofa. You wanted to scream at him so you just threw your hands up in the air giving up with this conversation physically, 

"No, I don't know! I don't know if I love him," The door to the bathroom squeaked as it opened and Areum came out clutching a newspaper clipping with a clown on the front of it, you stopped being angry the second she came into the room.

"The funfair is in town tomorrow...Can we all go?" You looked at it, it was a Sunday so the shop would be closed for the day.  

"I'll take you baby-" You went to say but she shook her head, looking at the both of you.

"I want dad to come to." Dad? That was a recent development that you weren't used to hearing coming from her. You stared at her in shock and then looked at Jungkook waiting to see what he was thinking about all of this. 

"It depends on what Jungkook has planned, I doubt-" You tried to talk but Jungkook shook his head,

"I'll come, I'll go back to my hotel tonight and then meet you here in the morning." She grinned brightly hugging his leg as she got excited for going out as a family the next day. Though she would never tell you this out loud, going out as a family was something she'd always dreamt of. It would make her feel as though she had a normal childhood. 

"Can you make the pancakes again, mum loves them in the shape of Minnie just like I do." He nodded and she ran off towards her bedroom and you shouted that you'd be in after letting Jungkook out first. 

"You don't have to come back, don't feel forced about staying here." You whispered as you walked down the stairs to let him out of the shop, Jungkook knew what you were trying to do. Trying to push him away but make it seem like it was his idea instead of yours.

"I don't feel forced into staying. I want to spend time with you and my daughter...It'll be a nice day out, I haven't been to the fair since the one I took you to one." He mentioned your fifth date together and you smiled remembering how you kissed him on top of the Ferris wheel at midnight it was also the first night you'd spent together passionately. 

"Okay, come by the shop same time in the morning and I'll make sure the door is open for you." You told him as he walked out into the street smiling at you as he pulled on a baseball cap and some sunglasses to keep himself hidden.

"See you in the morning." You nodded shutting the door behind him and locking up as you walked back to the staircase and thinking about David again and those three little words. They should have meant the world to you, every person in the world was dying to hear them from someone but it wasn't David you wanted to hear, say it. You knew that it wasn't David you wanted to hear it from but from Jungkook, you shook your head. Turning off the lights in the shop and headed up to your waiting daughter, ready to question her on how her day went with her father.

MASTERLIST || PREVIOUS || NEXT

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @bisexualmess007 @innersooya @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @neverthefirstchoice​ @jikooksgirl19​ @jungkooksseuphoria​ @queenmasterxx​ @oosnapitskat​ @janieooo​ 

[happytroopers]

Toeing a line // Fox x Reader

TW: typical club stuff, alcohol drinking, arson mention, a random guy being a douche

Ahh, yes enemies to lovers but Fox has the emotional intelligence of a raisin

The music was pounding in 79's, a rhythmic bass line thumping so loudly that it created a ring like ripple with every beat in the cheap Nubian whiskey. Fox wrapped his hand around the low ball glass to absorb the vibrations before quickly retracting it- didn't want his drink to get too hot. After all, the cheap booze was probably the highlight of Fox's night and it was barely tolerable when chilled. He allowed himself a deep sigh, but at least tried to mask his scowl. No one else seemed to mind the colorful flashing lights or the shrieking Sullustese singing that accompanied the bone shaking bass. So instead of dampening the mood for the other party goers, Fox ordered another drink.

If you asked him how he ended up at 79's on one of his very, very rare days off? Fox would tell you that his brother's promised to pay his tab.

Well, that's not entirely accurate. You wouldn't have asked, hell, you probably would've avoided interaction all together. You had been exceptionally angry the last time you'd seen him.

After all, he was in charge of the Coruscant Guard. Which meant it was his job to inform you, one of the Coruscant Security Force's lead field detectives, when one of your cases fell under Guard jurisdiction. And during wartime, that was exceedingly frequent. So frequent in fact, the two of you were on a first name basis- that is, when you weren't calling him an ass.

Like, two days prior when he'd swiped up an arson case after you'd already almost solved it. Fox couldn't help that the arsonist burned a senator's sidepiece's apartment, and therefore it became a political issue which technically made it terrorism. You hadn't felt that way, and weren't afraid to let him know it.

Fox told you it was Coruscant Guard jurisdiction. You told him to go fuck himself. He asked if you had a problem with how he did his job. You asked if there was room under that helmet for the boot he was licking.

Fox shook his head as he sipped his drink, you had quite the mouth. You were feisty, a trait that was almost admirable when it wasn't infuriating. He finished his first drink as he thought about the last time he saw you, chest heaving as you tried to control your temper, eyes glinting maliciously as you glared at him, and fists clenched at your sides like you were going to punch him. Yeah, feisty was one word for it. Force of nature was another. Fox took another sip as he corrected his line of thought. Yes, objectively you were attractive, exceedingly clever, witty, and good at your job- but above all you were a pain in the ass. Especially, when you got angry at him for doing his job.

From his stool at the corner of the bar, he had a decent view of the entire club. Instinctively, his eyes did a sweep of the building. Nothing out of the normal- dancing women, drunk soldiers, server droids. He took a longer gulp as he finished his habitual sweep, almost choking when his eyes landed on something shocking.

You. You- in a hem line much shorter than anything you wore in the office. You- with a fruity, glowing drink in your hand as you leaned forward laughing as something the heavy artillery trooper said. You- with an easy grin and no tension in your shoulder.

Apparently, you weren't that angry, was Fox's first thought. Or at least you didn't look so angry when the heavy gunner kept an arm around your waist to keep you close- bordering the line between chivalrous and 'copping a feel', but you didn't seem to mind.

Fox narrowed his eyes in on the kid's face- obviously young, cropped hair, scar over through one eyebrow, and a fresh tattoo over the bridge of his nose-, wondering if he knew this trooper. He didn't know why it mattered, but it did. Mattered so much, in fact, that he didn't know he was staring until suddenly he was making eye contact with the soldier who was whispering something in your ear. Even though Fox pointedly looked away, he could've sworn he heard you giggle before you excused yourself.

When he looked back up, you were sauntering towards him with a light step, flushed face, and easy grin. Obviously, you hadn't seen him yet, so Fox tried angling himself away from you. When you got to the bar, you signaled to the bartender.

"Two shots, whatever's most popular tonight, please." You announced, running a hand through your hair. Even your voice sounded different, there wasn't an edge to it. Fox fully planned on staying silent, letting you go about your night with out him bothering you. But when a wave of your perfume hit him or maybe it was the double of his Nubian whiskey, he couldn't help it.

"I didn't picture you as the club type, Detective (Y/L/N)." Fell out of his lips before he even realized he was speaking. You tensed for a moment, you'd recognize that sarcasm anywhere. Fortunately, two drink in or not, you were never without a witty response for your favorite least favorite case stealer as lazily turned his way, hip cocking to one side and head to the other.

"Is that your way of asking if I come here often, Commander?" His title rolled of your tongue in an irritatingly, enticingly ironic way. He was pretty sure it was more respectful when you called him an ass. But at least this time you were smiling at him.

"What you do in your personal time is completely up to you." Fox answered formally, but the raised eye brows and raised eye brows told you otherwise. Like him, you couldn't help your next snarky comment.

"Well, since you took my case, I have plenty of personal time this weekend." You shot back, turning towards him. The commander was sans helmet, but still donned his red painted armor, "Besides, I could say the same thing about you."

Fox was about to shoot something back but suddenly, two armored arms wrapped around your waist pulling you back, “Sweet cheeks, what's the hold up with our drinks?"

Your demeanor changed immediately as an over exaggerated giggle bubbled out of your throat. A sugar sweet smile plastered to your face as you leaned back into that same trooper's chest, and your voice raised two octaves, "Bartender's busy, but they're coming!"

Whoever this was, it wasn't you. Snarky and 'irritating' as you were, he liked the real you much better. Fox had to look away as the heavy gunner in brownish-orange armor pressed kisses down your neck as you tried to flag the bartender again. Like Fox, the bartender assessed you and the trooper with an air of disgust and an over exaggerated eyeball- at least Fox managed to hide his.

“Get a room.” The bartender gruffed, sliding two shots of a glowing pink liquid towards you before following the statement in a string of angry curses in Neimoidian. You paid the insult no mind as you scooped up one of the shot glasses, and you escort of the night did the same with a grin.

Out of the corner of his eye, the commander saw you throw back your shot, even noticing how a stray streak escaped down the corner of you mouth, leaving a subtly glowing trail before your tongue darted to remedy it. Fox was so preoccupied in watching you that he hadn’t even noticed the gunner was staring at him.

You bounced slightly on your feet, enjoying the rush that the unidentified libation gave you and giving Fox a devilish wink before grinning back at your beau.

“Do you know him, baby?” The tattooed soldier asked with a slight slur, nodding his head towards the commander, voiced bordering between indulging for your sake and territorial to ward Fox off. He had adjusted his grip, now one of his arms was tight around shoulder with his gloved middle finger rubbing small circled on the exposed, tender skin exposed by the rather daring neckline of your outfit- but Fox was more distracted by the body glitter he’d just noticed. The commander cleared his throat and averted his eyes as he took a long sip of his drink, preparing himself for whatever description you’d cook up after your appraising stare (was your little smirk appreciative or malicious, Fox couldn’t decide).

“Oh, yeah, we work together sometimes.” You told him, before shrugging his arm off your frame. That was not the scathing review Fox had been expecting, and work together was a very generous way of putting things. You gave the commander another smirk, this time with a challenging raised eyebrow before laughing to yourself as you shook your head. Your drinking partner watched this micro interaction with the same level of confusion that Fox had, barely smoothing out his jealous sneer in time for you to turn back to him, “Order another round, I’m going to go freshen up, mmkay?”

You didn’t wait for confirmation as you left the two confused soldiers in your wake, hips swaying as you disappeared in the crowd.

Clearly not used to taking orders from pretty little things like you- Fox shook that line of thought out of his head and started over. Clearly not used to taking orders in his time off, it took the trooper a moment to catch up, before flagging down the bartender, “Another two shots, something to make her a little… frisky.”

Fox’s emotions went from annoyed at his presence, to a quick decision he hated this soldier. Similarly, the bartender gave him an actual disgusted reaction but got to work while Fox gave the gunner a nasty side eye.

“Got a staring problem, brother?” He huffed at the commander, with the intent to sound intimidating. But after seeing the kid down a neon pink drink, it missed by a long shot. Fox turned face towards him with an unimpressed stare, but the gunner kept going, “Yeah, I’ve noticed you staring.”

“Believe me, I wasn’t looking at you.” Fox informed him, voiced dripping with sarcasm as he shook his head as he went back to his drink, wishing you’d show back up and whisk the orange painted trooper away. He pictured it mentally and then decided you could take as much time as you pleased, because- for some reason he couldn’t place- the image made him aggravated. The barkeep placed two shots in front of them, both a dangerous deep black, before dropping a heart shaped fizzy tablet in both, turning them bubbly an a dark, transparent red. The sight would have made Fox wary had he not seen women order them for themselves before, but seeing as it was you- the commander still didn’t like it.

“Yeah, well, that hot piece of ass is with me, so keep your eyes to yourself.”

Fox snapped his head up, sending a glare to the younger soldier. Did he not have the decency to use your actual name? Did he even know your name?  The gunner smirked thinking he had struck a nerve- he had, but not the one he had intended to strike- so he continued, “Or, you can keep watching from here, I guess it doesn’t matter. We'll be too preoccupied to care.”

That was enough.

Fox stood to his feet, not that it mattered seeing that all clones were the same height for the most part. He gave the soldier a once over before coming back to his eyes which were bordering on glassy as the gunner slightly swayed on his feet.

“What’s your name and rank, soldier?” There was an edge to Fox’s voice, that even he couldn’t quite place, but nevertheless he continued to glare at the trooper.

“Are you trying to pull rank on me, man? Who do you think you are?” The disbelieving soldier shook his head as he shoved Fox’s shoulder. He had a point. It was considered a dick move to pull rank when off duty, and Fox made it a point to offend doing so. But here he was doing it anyway, over a girl who probably hated him.

“Clone Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard.” Fox answered, letting the hostility flavor his words. The difference was immediate, like he instantly sobered up as his face went white. The orange painted soldier straightened his posture and dropped the challenging glare in favor of an apologetic stare.

“C-Commander?,” He sputtered at first, before  shaking his head to center himself, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t recognize you.”

The kid sputtered for another second, settling on the excuse, “I’ve had too much to drink.”

Fox took a little too much pleasure in the anxiety on the gunner’s features, and since he’d dug this hole, he might as well finish it, “Then maybe you should be done for the night.” Fox ’suggested’ sternly, pushing the two red shots out of reach without looking away, “Before you get yourself into trouble.”

The younger trooper nodded frantically, even throwing in a salute and a ’thank you, sir’, before quickly brushing past the Commander.

Fox caught his arm as he passed, pulling him in close enough to add on menacingly, “And stay away from (Y/N).”

The Gunner nodded again before scuttling out of the club, in an alarming hurry. Fox shook his head, already feeling a little bad for scaring the kid- the young trooper would probably wait for weeks in fear of a formal reprimand or demotion that would never come. Fox was mean, but he wasn’t going to hurt the kids career, just because he tried picking up the wrong girl. But then again, maybe a healthy dose of fear would do the kid some good, maybe he’d even stop using phrases like ‘hot piece of ass’- anyone who said that seriously maybe did deserve a demotion.

Shaking his head, Fox already felt a little embarrassed about his little display as he slid back onto his stool and finished his second drink.  The bartender saw the empty glass and came to top it off, but Fox waved him off- maybe he should take his own advice.

All that fuss, over the lead deceive who called him an ass like it was his name. Sighing, he ran a face over his head and reminded himself of all the reasons you weren’t worth the trouble.

Number one, you most definitely hated him and he (probably) hated you too, because you both found each other infuriating enough to ignore any redeeming qualities.

Number two, you could handle yourself and would at least attempt to kick Fox ass if you found out he intervened. He remembered watching you take down a suspected murderer- hell you might actually kick his ass if you were angry enough.

Number three, you didn’t seem to have minded the attention at all. It was Fox the interaction had bothered.

Fox was having trouble with a number four, and was growing agitated at the rather short list. A moment later, you sauntered back up, hair a little more in place and lip coloring touched up. Upon only finding one soldier, you looked around in confusion but found nothing.

“Where’d Blast go?” You asked over the music which had turned to a electro tech song with no words. One side of your painted lips tugging downward as you gave the club another once over. Fox just then realized he’d never even learned his name, no matter, to put himself back on track he let sarcasm roll off his tongue.

“You’re Coruscant’s lead field detective, you tell me.” Fox shrugged. Instantly, you sent him that annoyed glance he’d been waiting for all night. There you were, the real you. No more over exaggerated pouts or fake giggles.

“Well, I’d start the investigation but then you’d swoop it out from under me after I basically solved it for you, so why don’t you go ahead and tell me.” You sneered back, sharp eyes waiting expectantly. Fox was most definitely not going to tell you about his a tad bit over aggressive piss contest, you’d either punch him or never let him live it down- and the commander wasn’t sure which was the worst option. Instead, he nodded towards the mens bathroom as he twirled the ice in his empty glass.

“Kid said he was gonna hurl, apparently he hasn’t learned to hold his liquor yet.” He couldn’t help the subtle dig as he smirked, that wasn’t even true.

“Gross,” You muttered under your breath before you eyed the two shots on the bar. You plucked them both up, thinking about offering one to Fox before deciding against it, “Well if they’re already paid for.”

With that, you downed both shots without even checking what they were. The confidence in that action almost impressed Fox, but he told himself it was obnoxious. With no escort and no more booze, you sighed rolling your neck from side to side as the alcohol settled, “Well, probably for the best. I have work tomorrow.”

Fox quirked an eyebrow, “I thought I “stole" your case.”

He put extra emphasis on the air quotes just to annoy you- it worked. You threw him another withering look, but Fox- who was used to your scathing glares- didn’t flinch.

“Yeah, for every case you steal from me, I get three more.” You defended hotly, but eased into a laugh as you theatrically added, “Because criminals never sleep.”

Yep, that would definitely be those last two shots kicking in. You waited patiently for another sassy remark, quite frankly this conversation was much more riveting than anything Blast had said to you all night. Fox rose both eyebrows at your rather lame joke, but huffed a laugh anyways (at your humor or your lackadaisical demeanor, you weren’t sure).

“If that’s the case, why are you always so mad at me for- rightfully- taking cases that fall under my jurisdiction?” He pressed, flagging down the bartender for a glass of water that wasn’t for him. When he turned back to you, you annoyed glare had softened ever so slightly and your smirk had faded into a softer smile he’d never seen before.

“Just cause it’s you, Fox, just cause it’s you.” You told him, and Fox detected a lick of honesty behind your teasing grin. Hold his gaze for a second before shaking your head, you looked to the barkeep before he could set down the water, “His drinks are on me.”

Fox didn’t have a chance to protest before you winked at him again over your shoulder, already walking away, “See ya around, Commander.”

Yeah, Fox was definitely toeing a dangerous line. A very, very dangerous line.

[issamhysa]

all of my kingdom for your return

eren and reiner with a warrior s/o hcs

this was supposed to be an actual fic but i didn't feel like having to deal with pacing shut up i am SAD :(( i've had this idea for a while so reeee but MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES/MANGA under the cut!!!!! i might give this like two separate endings if y’all like them!! <3

the mission was a simple one. that's what all your superiors, what zeke, reiner, annie and colt kept telling you. infiltrate their military, climb their ranks and retrieve the coordinate.

you don't know how, or when it got this out of hand.

maybe it was when you stood back and watched marcel get devoured by the titan. maybe it was when you didn't fight your brother when he held you back from tearing annie off reiner.

maybe it was when you befriended the coordinate, eren jeager, whilst you helped him "escape" shiganshina after the attack on wall maria. maybe it was when you watched him cry out and yell, blissfully unaware of just how much he would grow to mean to you, and how troublesome he would come to be.

you were meant to join the military police with annie, but you opted to join the scouts instead. you wanted to stay close to your brother, but you also needed to keep an eye on eren. out of the four warriors that remained in paradis, you were the most perceptive.

you, bertholdt and reiner are quick to establish yourselves within the scouts regiment and befriend the rest of the cadets, but you all made the same mistake. you get too close to them, you start to care for them and to slowly detach yourselves from the mission.

that is, until marco. you weren't there, you didn't see it happen, and to an extent, you were glad you weren't. marco was a sweet boy, one of your closest friends, and you were sure that watching him die would've ruined you. that's when you started to realize, you had to focus. you all did, you couldn't afford any more slip-ups, especially if they could cost the lives of those you grew to love and care for.

eren comforted you that evening, after the wall was plugged. you hated to admit it, but the way he held you close made your stomach flutter the same way it did when reiner touched you. he reassured you, mourned with you and promised to kill every damn titan in his way. before you knew it, you were falling, and you were falling hard.

the expedition came, in which annie revealed herself to be the female titan. in the end, you could do nothing as she was beaten by eren, forced to crystallize herself in order to save herself. in order to hide the secret you four shared.

time went on, and your attachment to eren grew. mikasa accepted you, slowly, and armin became a good friend of yours. you and eren began to spend more time together, whether it was training or staring up at the stars from the wall, your fingers intertwined as you reveled in the warmth of his presence alone.

little did you know, reiner was slowly unraveling. here you were, falling in love with the enemy, when you were his to begin with. you and reiner had always had a "thing", though unspoken. bertholdt knew, annie knew, everybody knew. you falling for eren only fueled his resolve.

it was time to finish this.

reiner and bertholdt told you about their plan to reveal themselves at the tower, when everybody was sleeping. you had tried to tell them it wasn't time, that this could be delayed, but you knew he was right. this had gone on for long enough, and you had made too many mistakes. you managed to hold them off until you got back to the wall.

you were meant to reveal yourself along with them, but when the time came, you couldn't do it. when your brother and reiner shifted, you braced yourself against the steam, anchoring yourself to the wall with your odm gear. you wanted to stay, but you knew you'd never truly belong here. not knowing what you had done.

when eren transformed, there was nothing you could do but watch as he and reiner pummeled each other to the brink, until eren had found a way to slowly crack away at the armored titan's neck. soon, the nape would be exposed, and reiner and bertholdt would be in trouble.

the scouts were near, waiting for the opportune moment to strike and tear reiner out of his titan, and in that moment, you had a choice to make.

you could stay still and cooperate with the scouts, letting eren kill reiner and hoping eren wouldn't hate you for betraying them. or you could help reiner and bertholdt escape, leave for marley and never look back.

reiner's armored titan called out, and though nobody could understand the reason for his sudden cry, you did. he was calling out for you.

you realized you had grown sick of being nothing but a bystander to tragedy. you had done nothing as marcel got eaten, you had done nothing when annie was defeated.

you couldn't let reiner get killed, no matter how much eren meant to you. so, managing to wrangle yourself out of jean's grasp, you grabbed on to the blade you were given and jumped off the wall. with a cry from your lips, the speed titan enveloped you in hot, steaming flesh.

six meters, short dark hair and fearsome teeth resembling that of the ancient smilodon cat came down onto the attack titan, sharp claws digging into his eyeballs.

your titan yowled with each tear of skin, but tears were streaming down your flushed cheeks. you weren't screaming out in anger, you were devastated. it should've never come to this. if only you had guarded your heart from this, it wouldn't hurt as much as it did.

"eren, forgive me" you cried over and over and over again, though you knew the possibility of eren ever forgiving you after this was unlikely.

you loved eren. truly, you did. but you loved your brother more, you loved reiner more, and you wanted to go home.

bertholdt took your sudden attack as his cue and let the colossal titan fall, shrouding everybody with steam. with an unconscious ymir and eren, you and your brother latched onto the armored titan and disappeared into the forest.

the forest of giant trees was as silent as ever. you, bertholdt, reiner and ymir were waiting for eren to come to while simultaneously planning your next move. the boys picked up in your sudden shift of mood, though, wondering why you had gone so silent. but when bertholdt followed your line of sight and found you watching eren, he knew.when eren woke up, the first thing he did was scream at the three of you. bertholdt and reiner were able to shake it off, but his anger cut you deep. the hatred and betrayal in his eyes. the way he called you a "traitor", despite you already knowing it. it hurt more coming from his lips.

eren was watching you fall apart, and part of him thought he could somehow talk you into helping him, into realizing that what you were doing was wrong. but he knew better. after all, he watched you jump to reiner's rescue without hesitating.ultimately, you had chosen reiner over him. despite the nights spent together, the hidden kisses shared under the blanket of stars, the silent moments on top of the wall. 

reiner and bertholdt's betrayal could never compare to yours.

the scouts were on you quicker than you had imagined. you were all barely able to make it out alive. your attempt to capture historia failed, and the scouts quickly gained hold of eren once again. 

before the titans could overcome you as you and your brother hid under the palm of the armored titan, ymir gave you a way out.

the next time you saw eren was while you were looking for bertholdt during the second attempt to capture him. zeke had finally come to your aid, and victory was surely yours, that’s what zeke had said.

what you weren’t accounting for was erwin’s suicide charge allowing levi to get close to zeke. what you weren’t accounting for was armin’s intelligence, although you really should’ve known better than to underestimate him. you weren’t accounting for the thunder spears that almost killed reiner, either.

you had lost long ago, you just hadn’t realized you had. it wasn’t until you were pinned onto that rooftop, helpless to watch your brother get devoured by armin’s new titan, that you finally realized.

you were doomed from the start.

had it not been for zeke and pieck coming to rescue you and reiner, you were sure the scouts would’ve taken you into holding, tortured you for information without so much as blinking. levi and hange would’ve enjoyed that. and maybe, just maybe, you would’ve let them.

but your mission wasn’t over yet. this had all been the easy part.

the hard part would come four years later.

but for now, you would settle for watching eren’s broken expression shift into nothing but pure anger as you left him once again, knowing the weight of your betrayal would bear down on both of your hearts for years to come.

[fangirl-creates]

ZERO OVER YONDER (FULL FIC)

(Likes and Reblogs are appreciated!)

1 - Banjo Pluck

“Look, all I’m saying is—would it kill Rippen to just have a little chill once in a while?” The red-headed boy vented to his friends as they walked to the movie theater.

“Penn, Rippen is Rippen. Of course he’s still gonna be rude to you when we’re not saving the Multiverse.” Sashi commented, wanting desperately to hear the end of these complaints spilling out of Penn’s mouth.

“Well yeah, obviously. But today, there was just no end to it! Like even when I was eating lunch, BAM! There he was!” He folded his arms, his face turning about as red as his hair at this point.

Rippen had definitely been more annoying than usual today. The reason? Probably having a bad day and picking on Penn was the only thing that would bring him ‘joy’...if you’d even call it that. And even though Penn had learned to ignore Rippen during times like these, today was one of those ‘impatient’ days for Penn Zero—considering the fact he had stayed up till 3am last night on a count of The Chinchilla bothering him again.

“Don’t worry about it, dude.” Boone put his arm around his friend, patting his back. “I’m sure beating Rippen again will put you in a good mood. Think of it as a way to get back at him.”

“Yeah!” Sashi chimed in. “I’ll even let you kick him in the face this time.” She smiled.

Penn felt a little better, the red from his face fading away. “Thanks, guys.”

The trio stepped onto their usual spots on the zap platform, Penn cracking his knuckles.

“I’m really gonna let him have it today.” He grinned between his teeth.

“Violence must wait till tomorrow!” Phyllis called from her spot on the balcony.

Penn titled his head. “...I don’t understand.”

“You will see.” She pulled the lever, the trio levitating as they were forced into the portal. “GOOD LUCK!”

After the brilliant blue flash, Penn opened his eyes. Space. He saw Space. Below him was the material of some kind of smaller planet he stood on—“Purple-colored dirt” in his Earth vocabulary. But that wasn’t the thing that surprised him...it was the body he was in. It was weirdly insulating, like a very thick fur coat—that’s when he realized he was covered in it. Orange fur coated him from head to toe. The only articles of clothing he was actually wearing were white socks and some slightly worn blue sneakers. He felt..uncomfortable.

“Penn?” Sashi’s voice made itself known.

Penn looked up, a bit surprised she was taller than him now. “Sashi! You’re a—uh….” He studied his friend’s new look. She was blue with a pink mane—yet her body itself was a cross between a horse and a dinosaur. He shrugged it off. “Never mind.” He looked around for the Wiseman. “Where’s Boone?”

“Right here!” A confident voice called, Penn searching for the source.

“Boone? Where are-” He noticed Sashi pointing above his head, to which he realized he was wearing a hat as well. He took it off to find the rather large green hat staring back at him. “Oh.”

“Oh yeah. I definitely feel like a wiseman now…”

“Cause you were on my head and you feel like you can give me knowledge that way.” Penn raised a brow.

Boone did what was an attempted shrug. “Who knows...maybe I’m magic.”

Penn rolled his eyes, placing Boone back on his head. “Okay Sash, check the specs.”

Sashi pressed the side of her glasses, which were now a dark purple to complement the colors of her new form. The holographic image showed up in front of them. “You are a wandering Do-Gooder, and I am your trusty steed and best friend.”

“What about me?” Boone asked, feeling a little left out.

“You’re his hat.” ….She didn’t add anything else.

“Well, I still think I might be magic.” He looked away. “You two just don’t know it yet.”

Sashi rolled her eyes. “Annnnyway, the evil Lord Hater is planning to conquer another innocent planet with his army of Watchdogs. It’s up to us to stop him before he manages to leave the planet successful.” Normally, this was the part where the hologram would disappear, but it lingered.

“All right! Sounds easy enough.” Penn pounded his fists together. “I’ll admit, this body is a little on the weaker side, but I can still give Rippen a good fi-”

“Actually, you can’t use violence at all. I’m the one who can fight them. You stop bad guys by...being nice.” Now the hologram was gone.

Penn suddenly understood what Phyllis meant earlier...and he hated it. “I...I can’t fight him?! Seriously??” His face was turning red again, yet it was hard to tell with the orange fur. “So not only does Rippen get away with all the stuff he did to me today, but now I can’t even GET HIM BACK?!”

“No one said you can’t get him back—you just can’t beat him up.” Sashi folded her arms.

“...Can I at least punch him?”

“No. You’ll ruin the hero’s image.”

Penn covered his face with hands, a muffled scream. He then took a deep breath, calming himself. Thankfully for him, this body seemed to have a very calm mindset...that, and really cheerful one. “Okay...okay, I’ll do my best…for the sake of the mission, and because I don’t want to accidentally break something.” He hopped onto the saddle on Sashi’s back.

“Good choice.” Sashi nodded. “Now how do we get out of here?”

“Don’t look at me—what the??” A small bottle fell onto the ground. Upon closer inspection, it looked like a container for bubble blowing, but it read ‘Orbble juice’, with instructions on the back. Penn shrugged and pulled the wand out, blowing as a large air-tight bubble formed around them, lifting them off the ground. “Now we’re talking!” He yelled out into the bubble, cheerfully. “HEIGH-HO, SYLVIA!”

Sashi and Boone both looked at him.

Penn blinked, not sure what came over him. “S-Sashi...I meant Sashi. Oh, that was weird.”

Thankfully, it was quickly forgotten by the trio, heading on their way to their next destination…

—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-————————

2 - A Hero’s Image

Rippen looked at himself in the mirror. In all his years as a Part-Time Villain, he had only been a skeleton once. And even then, it was only for a couple minutes. The complete lack of skin made him feel...exposed. But at the same time, the bone seemed hard as nails, so there was that.

His thoughts were quickly interrupted, however, by the rambles of his cheerful minion—who was in the body of a Commander with the exact opposite personality. But that didn’t affect Larry in the slightest. “Isn’t this eyeball head weird? I mean I’m talking, but there’s no mouth! How crazy is that?” He laughed. “How do people even know when I’m speaking?”

Rippen rolled his eyes. “Your pupil moves, Larry.”

Larry looked in the mirror, expressing a smile as much as a watchdog could to the best of their abilities. “Heh, it’s kinda funny how it bounces like that.”

“Can we get on with it, then?” He was having an exceptionally good day...as far as Rippen’s standards go. And he didn’t want this good mood to go to waste.

“Right, right...sorry.” He laughed softly, pressing the side of his glasses, which were now yellow and only one square instead of two. “Okay, you are the evil Lord Hater and I am your Second in Command. Our Mission is to conquer another poor innocent planet before Penn stops you with-” Larry paused, unsure he was reading this right.

“With what? Come on, spit it out.” Rippen pestered.

“Um...friendship.”

Rippen blinked, a bit stunned by what Larry just said. “Maybe it's the lack of ears that makes it hard for me to hear you, but did you say…‘Friendship’?”

“Yep. He’s supposed to be nice to you.” Larry nodded.

Rippen was silent for a moment, then he burst out laughing. “Penn Zero’s forced to be nice to me!” He laughed again. “If we’re lucky, he’ll break under the pressure, completely ruining the hero’s image! And then I can finally become a Full-Time Villain!” When he laughed a third time, however, green lighting shot from his fingertips as he made a ‘rock n roll’ gesture with both of his hands.

Larry narrowly avoided it, but some watchdogs down the hall weren’t so lucky; loud yelps followed by groaning were heard after getting zapped.

“Wait..what just happened?” Rippen looked at the gesture he was making, a bit confused.

“Oh yeah, you got cool lightning powers! I forgot to tell you that…” Larry attempted a smile again.

For once in his life, Rippen was filled with the absolute confidence that this time...this time, he could not only win...but finally annihilate Penn Zero. He laughed one more time, green lighting sparking around him. “This is it, Larry! Victory is finally at hand!”

Friendship...of all the things. He had been nice to Rippen before, sure, but that was often out of pity...or on rare occasions, when he genuinely felt sorry for him. But this was the first time he was forced to do it. And that fact made him upset. Heck, even the phrase ‘Kill em with Kindness’ was starting to sound not understandable anymore. He glanced at Sashi. “Soooo, this whole ‘friendship’ thing…”

Sashi’s eyes met his, despite being focused on the destination.

“Is he like...allergic to it or something? Is he gonna melt if I hug him??”

“No. You’re just being nice to him...for the 100th time.” She mumbled under her breath.

“I know, I know...it’s just...what’s the point of being nice to your enemy if they’re just gonna continue to do you harm? How is this furball even still alive after constantly clashing with this guy?”

It Never hurts to Help. A little voice said in the back of his mind.

Penn blinked. “Boone, did you say something?” He glanced up.

“Uhh no?”

He scratched his head, thinking. If he was really gonna do this, he was gonna do it right. But how?

As if on cue, Boone jumped up, a Banjo seemingly appearing out of nowhere, landing in Penn’s hands. He stared at it. “Uhhh Boone...where did this come from?” He looked up.

Boone just gasped in response. “I AM magic!!” He said triumphantly.

Penn rolled his eyes, holding the banjo awkwardly. When it came to music, Penn considered himself more of a singer than anything else. But Instruments were not his strong suit...still, this Banjo didn’t look unimportant. He held it the right way, his fingers dancing along the frets. And then, as if on command…he started playing. It wasn’t a specific song or anything too complex, just a simple melody that made his friends smile as he continued. It was so strange...he had never played the banjo before, and here he was; playing it like he’d had years of practice. He was so lost in song, that he didn’t realize he was moving around while he did so. Luckily, they had found their destination before Rippen did, so Sashi was able to land on the ground, giving Penn freedom to do...whatever he was doing.

Sashi was amused by this. She had seen Penn dance before, but this was nothing like how he normally did it. This kind of dancing was silly, almost...cartoonish. What was even funnier was that not only did he dance in tune to the music, but he sang along to it as well. Well...more like sing-talking gibberish. Regardless, he seemed really into it. In fact, he got faster with each ‘verse’. It got to a point where he was strumming so fast, one would think the banjo was going to catch fire.

Penn’s chest went up and down as he breathed heavily, stopping finally. The sound of Sashi clapping caught his attention and he immediately realized what was going on. “O-Oh...yeah I didn’t mean to do any of that….” He blushed.

“It was cute.” Sashi commented. “But, you know, like in a funny kind of way.”

“Yeah, But not so good for me…” Boone managed, feeling a bit dizzy from Penn’s rapid dancing and spinning.

Penn cringed. “Ohh oh no. Do you need a minute? Do hats even get sick??” He thought about it for a second. Unfortunately, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud THUD.

All three turned to see a giant Skull Ship land on the planet’s surface. It opened its mouth, a large tongue landing down as watchdogs began to march in formation, chanting ‘Hate’s Great, Best Villain!’ as they did.

Penn watched, standing proudly as he held the banjo close. “Alright…” He took a deep breath. “Time to go to work.”

—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-————————

3 - Never Hurts to Help

It didn’t take long for Rippen to get the Watchdogs out, the inhabitants of the planet already running away in fear. The Do-Gooders were behind a rather large rock. Not the best hiding spot, but a good temporary one.

“Okay, Sash. That’s your cue.”

Sashi cracked her knuckles, but glanced at her friends before she ran off. “I know you can do this, PZ.” Then she was gone—charging into a group of Watchdogs.

Penn watched, taking a deep breath.

“So what are you gonna do?” Boone asked.

Penn hesitated. “Honestly, I have no idea.” He remembered what Sashi had said earlier...No one said you couldn’t get back at Rippen—you just can’t beat him up. Penn remembered how annoying Rippen was earlier...and for some reason, the mindset of this body seemed to know exactly how to annoy him back. A smirk appeared on his face as he ran to find his enemy.

Rippen was having the time of his life, blasting back at forth. What felt even better was that the creatures feared him the closer he got. He didn’t even care Sashi was punching the Watchdogs left and right—as long as he got his reward, he didn’t care what else went wrong.

“Havin’ fun, Rippen?”

And there it was.

Rippen turned to face the orange ball of fur, a cackle at how tall he was compared to the do-gooder. “Well, Well, Well! If it isn’t Penn Zero!” He raised his hands, pointing them at him as green lighting charged between his fingers—the soft glow illuminating on everyone close enough to see. “I know all about this little requirement of your’s to not hurt me-! So now I only have one thing to say to you—!”

Penn’s heart pounded in his chest. Best case scenario, the plan worked. Worst case scenario, Rippen blasts him into the next dimension.

“—Are you ready to meet your demise?”

Penn cleared his throat, standing casually. “Actually, Rippen ol’ Buddy, I’ve got a question for you.” He sounded so calm despite the fear inside of him.

Rippen raised part of his brow, staring down at his enemy. This day had been going so well for him. And if he destroyed him without hearing the question at all, it would haunt him forever. Rippen shrugged, not letting his guard down. “You know what? Ask away!”

Penn breathed a small sigh of relief, taking a step back. “Well I was just thinking...you must be hungry after this...invasion thing.”

Though he didn’t want to admit it, Rippen was starving. He didn’t understand why, but this body had the need to consume every junk food imaginable. And everything it craved, Rippen had never touched in his life. He made a slightly annoyed face at Penn. “Why would it matter to you?”

“Oh no reason…” He pulled out two sandwiches from behind his back. “Just that...uh..got some sandwiches here. Hate for them to go to waste…” He mocked, waving the scent around Rippen’s nonexistent nose. “Truly...truly a shame.”

Rippen’s stomach made probably one of the loudest sounds a stomach was capable of making—strange, considering Skeletons didn’t even have stomachs. He tried to keep his eyes off the two sandwiches, but it was impossible. “Ugh! Just give them to me—!” He tried to reach, but Penn jumped back.

“What’s that? You do want these?” He grinned. “Well, would you prefer—” He threw the first sandwich at Rippen’s face. “Mustard-?” He jumped over Rippen, throwing the other sandwich on his face when he turned around. “-or Mayo?!” He laughed, landing on his feet.

Rippen angrily wiped the sandwiches from his face, staring at Penn with a piercing glare.

Instead of a rude gesture, Penn stuck out his tongue in a playful manner, his legs speeding up. “Come and get me!” And he was gone.

Rippen didn’t know why, but every voice in the back of his head screamed ‘GET HIM!’ no matter what. And that’s exactly what he did. He ran, screaming at the top of his...lungs? Whatever skeletons have.

Penn pulled out the banjo as he ran, turning around as he was now jogging backwards. “How about a little chase music?” He smiled, strumming rather fast. The music seemed to be annoying Rippen even more, which meant it was working.

Meanwhile, Sashi had already beaten up all the Watchdogs while Rippen was distracted. Larry was too busy watching Rippen chase Penn around to notice. Something about it made him want to sigh. He was...disappointed in Rippen?? He shivered, hoping he’d never get that feeling again.

At this point, Rippen was exhausted. He clawed at the ground, now laying on his stomach. Penn, however, didn’t feel tired at all. He felt as though he could run a marathon in seconds. Eventually, he stopped running and walked right over to Rippen, bending down so they were at eye level once more. He put his hands behind his back, a smug look on his face.

“You uh..you doing okay?” He raised a brow.

Rippen wheezed, trying to stand. “W...Watchdogs! Get him—!” It wasn’t until he yelled that when he realized they were all defeated, Sashi standing there triumphantly. “NOOO! I WAS SO CLOSE!!” He wheezed again, his face lightly hitting the ground.

Penn felt a little bad for him. He wasn’t sure why the feeling was so sudden, but he didn’t question it. “Look, you seem pretty exhausted, so I’ll just leave this here for you.” He placed one of the mustard sandwiches and a bottle of a soda labeled ‘Thunder Blazz’ in bright yellow bubble letters on the side.

Rippen stared at the food, standing up as he wolfed down the sandwich. He glared at Penn, pointing at him. “This doesn’t make us friends!” He spoke between bites.

Penn made a face. “I uh...I never said that.”

Rippen blinked, shaking his head. “Oh never mind!” He grabbed the soda and angrily trudged back to the skull ship, Larry patting him on the back as they headed inside.

The inhabitants cheered once the skull ship took off, Sashi running to greet her friends. “You did it, Penn!”

“Yeah!” Boone chimed in. “I’m not exactly sure what you did...but you did it!”

Penn’s eyes watched the skull ship fade from view. Why did Rippen retreat? And why did he think he was trying to be his friend? Even with all these questions, Penn still couldn’t help but feel good about himself…

With another blue flash, the trio was pulled back to the movie theater, landing safety back onto their original spots. Penn looked at himself, no longer feeling uncomfortable, but a bit disappointed the cheerful feeling was gone. “That was probably one of the strangest missions ever...but in a good way.” He managed.

“Yeah, wonder what was up with Rippen after we won…” Sashi added, hand on her chin.

“Sometimes,” Phyills started, coming back down from the balcony. “Enemy is just a friend you haven’t made yet.” She looked at Penn. “Remember that, Penn Zero.”

Penn put his hands in his pockets, a smile. “I will.”

—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-————————

4 - Epilogue

Later that evening, the space duo set up camp for the night. Sylvia was still trying to process exactly what happened earlier. Her fists were sore from punching Watchdogs, when she hadn’t even done that today? Or had she??

Wander, on the other hand, seemed to be in a particularly good mood. Normally, that wasn’t a surprise in Wander’s case, but it definitely was after the events of today.

“I swear,” Sylvia put some wood on the fire, the flames grasping onto it. ��My head’s buzzing like a swarm of bees. The whole thing was so weird…” She sat down next to her friend, who was casually resting, playing a happy tune on his banjo. “How are you keeping it all together, buddy? Doesn’t your head hurt?” She asked, concerningly.

The Nomad looked up at her, smiling. “Because I helped someone.”

Sylvia blinked. “So...you remember what happened today?”

“Nope.” He cheerfully responded.

“...then..how do you know if you helped someone or not??”

“Just a hunch.”

Sylvia rolled her eyes, playfully, rustling his fur. “Okay, buddy…”

Deep within the stars, they saw the skull ship pass by, the voice of Lord Hater screaming into the night sky…

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I ACTUALLY ATE ONE OF WANDER’S STUPID SANDWICHES!!”

Wander chuckled, yawning as he got into his normal sleeping spot. “Yep, not a bad day…”

Sylvia still couldn’t remember what happened, but regardless of that, she was happy Wander still got to help out someone. And in the end, that was all that matters...

END

[yerawizardjulia]

Too Rich for a McNugget (Wolfstar)

A university student enters an antique shop in a panic. How do you buy a wedding gift for a cousin you hate? 

Sirius wouldn’t have looked twice at the dusty shop if he wasn’t stupidly, desperately late. The high street itself was laughing at him and he was uncomfortably aware of the scrubby guy on the bench that had definitely seen him walk past the same shop window three times in a desperate attempt to see anything other than tea towels and obnoxiously cheerful decorated mugs with ‘World’s best dad’ printed on the sides in Comic Sans. His fingers were slippery in anxious sweat as he pressed the home button on his phone, his iPhone six, another reason his presence would be scorned at this godforsaken gathering. The smudgy screen blinked into life and displayed, seemingly smugly after Sirius’ growing resentment towards the device, 12:42.

Twenty fucking minutes. If he didn’t show up with a gift he might as well not show up at all, an option he would have embraced wholeheartedly if his mother hadn’t pincered him into a corner at their last, regularly depressing routine coffee catch up and told him the deeds to his inheritance were under considerable threat if he did not attend. He wouldn’t have minded, but being twenty grand in debt to an English degree in a rented apartment with black mould creeping onto the ceiling made him reconsider his options.

Fucking Narcissa.

He wouldn’t have been looking forward to the wedding even if she wasn’t marrying a right wing, Eton-educated, ‘can’t control these blasted immigrants’ CEO of whateverthefuck that looked as though he’d never even touched an item of clothing that didn’t come from Armani. It was so typical of his cousin to find a man who deferred so minimally from their shared families’ frankly alarmingly consistent Tory heritage that Sirius had had to do some extensive Googling to confirm that Lucius Malfoy was not in fact, a not-so-distant relative.

A text buzzed in his hand, the little green notification welcome on the screen. At least it was an excuse to loiter outside this shop window for another minute or so without looking like a genuine psychopath.

‘Just get her a toaster or something idk.’

Sirius hadn’t really expected James’ solution to his predicament to be helpful, but his flatmate’s response nevertheless sent the hopeless feeling in his stomach a few inches lower. He had never expected for his future to be balanced on the purchase of a wedding gift, but he would almost prefer to sit his first-year exams, which he had taken with a hangover so severe it felt like he was going to vomit out of his eyeballs, all over again than have to look at this shop window for a second longer. He pictured sitting in a gutter in London, like the tramps that his mother refused to make eye contact with during their trips out during his childhood, drinking from a bottle wrapped in brown paper and thinking; if only I had gone with the luxury jam set. He had discarded the idea after noticing the Tesco’s Finest logo above the barcode, but it was beginning to look like his best option.

Another text. No, a call. Sirius shoved the phone back into his hoodie he was using to mask the aristocratic wedding attire beneath. Keepers of pretentious little shops such as the ones lining this dusty high street tended to bump their prices through the roof if they saw someone of his blood walk in. Old blood. Old money. It was unfair, really, because Sirius didn’t actually have any. If he did, he probably wouldn’t mind paying the exorbitant prices; James spent half his life agonising over how independent businesses were being suffocated by Amazon. But Sirius had nothing to his name until his dear grandparents decided to snuff it. The phone ceased buzzing waspishly in his pocket, and he decided he had better check who he was ignoring. 

Typical fucking Regulus. 

Probably the only human being under twenty that actually went out of his way to call people, rather than text. He would be there already, exchanging pleasantries in the foyer of the Malfoy’s third manor home. Checking to see whether the Black family disappointment was showing his face, or if he’d have to rely on his six predicted A* grades and brand new Porsche that probably cost more to insure than it did to buy to present himself as the golden child. He’d probably have a stupid little flower in his stupid little button hole. Being a cousin of the bride and a groomsman of the groom, Regulus had firmly nestled himself already into this hideous conjunction of families. He had a job lined up for him in Malfoy’s London branch. In six months, he’d probably have his own office.

Sirius had diluted his shampoo with water for the second time this morning.

He scowled and kicked a bottle cap along the pavement as he stumped, once again, down the row of shops. The circular metal projectile skittered across the tarmac and bounced off a door frame. He stopped, staring suddenly at the sign swinging on a pair of metal hooks like it was a medieval fucking tavern.

Fletcher’s Quality Gifts and Trinkets.

Somehow, inexplicably, Sirius’ eyes had slid over this shop four times as he’d panicked his way up and down this stretch of pavement. There was no window display, that was why. The door fit seamlessly between Bobbin’s Haberdashery and a derelict Cafe Nero. Sirius felt his phone buzz again and suppressed the urge to throw it into the path of the lazy, midday traffic crawling its way up the high street. He stared at the chipped paint and begged silently, to whatever entities may have been listening, that he would find something, anything to take to this fucking wedding.

The door jammed awkwardly on the floor as Sirius pushed it open. It made a juddering, dry squeak, scuffing on the splintery wood. Sirius winced, and half thought about just turning tail and walking out again, going back to pick up that cheap-as-shit jam set. Narcissa probably didn’t even eat jam. Was jam vegan?

He had to push his way in sideways, and as he did so, the door unstuck, swinging open and leaving him standing, pointlessly squashed back against the door frame. Sirius closed his eyes and wondered whether anything was going to go right today.

When he opened them, a guy was blinking at him from behind a checkout desk. A book was open on the surface before him and his long legs with too short trousers that showed a few inches of garishly coloured socks were rested upon the desk next to the till. He removed them hastily to the floor as Sirius stared.

“Sorry, the door- It gets stuck- you have to like-“ He mimed something that Sirius couldn’t even begin to relate to unsticking a door. “Sorry,” he finished, lamely. He bent over his book. Sirius peeled himself from the frame, not taking in the low beams that he would probably hit his head on or the items grouped together in nonsensical piles on the shelves and stacked on the floor.

This guy was gorgeous. He had an odd collection of features that were nothing special, when you looked at them individually- a nose that listed to the left, a thin top lip, a smattering of pigmentation on his cheeks that suggested acne that had been grown out of- but together... Sirius couldn’t stop staring at him. That tawny hair- fucking tawny, who am I, William pissing Wordsworth?- That sharp chin, those long fingers that teased the edge of the paper as he finished reading his page.

He was absolutely, fundamentally, not Sirius’ type. Any romantic entanglements he had had- and granted, it was not a long list (he and James had one sellotaped to the fridge)- involved men so deep in the closet they were practically choking on mothballs. They were footballers, mostly, insecure, ‘just experimenting’. Sirius didn’t know why his gaydar was sounding off so strongly. Was it the deeply uncool granddad jumper that somehow looked like it belonged in Men’s Vogue when draped over his long torso? Sirius was hardly modest about his own looks, but if he tried that jumper on he would look like the kid that forgot his P.E. kit. The same went for the not-skinny, not-baggy jeans that looked as though they were made for literally anyone other than him but somehow, looked really cool and why did Sirius love those hideous socks so much? Did they have pineapples on them? 

The guy, seemingly unaware of Sirius lurking behind the shelf closest to the door, propped the book up in his hands, and Sirius read the title- The Picture of Dorian Grey.

Well, there it is.

“IneedapresentforacousinIhatewho’smarryingaguythathasprobablynevereatenaMcDonald’schickennugget.” Sirius was hardly more aware of the words projectile vomiting from his mouth than he was of the way he was sidling towards the checkout desk with his hands wringing in front of him like he was expecting this guy to stand up and shout at him.

Brown eyes emerged from behind the finest work of Oscar Wilde, carrying a look of mild alarm.

“Because, he’s rich, not a vegetarian.” Sirius finished. His mouth seemed a long way behind his brain, but perhaps that was a good thing, because his brain was currently screaming FUCK ME and Sirius was not willing to be barred from any more establishments for hedonistic behaviour.

“A wedding present?” His voice was mild, like Sirius had just asked a perfectly normal question for a stranger to ask a shop employee.

“Uh, yeah.” Why was he blushing? He never blushed. He stepped back needlessly as the guy rose from behind the desk. He was tall. Proportionately tall, with long limbs and a long neck and long god knows what else. Sirius nearly fell to his knees in reverence when the guy cracked a smile that caused a dimple to poke in his cheek and exposed sharp canines that Sirius never considered worth noticing in anyone before but holy fuck he would be now.

“You know what, I think I’ve got something.” He was walking away down one of the dark-ish isles, stooping considerably to avoid the beams and Sirius was trailing after him, awkward and out of place and acting so drastically not like himself he wondered if he had sustained a concussion at some point. Maybe when he was forcing his way through that rude fucking door. The hair at the nape of this guy’s neck curled slightly like he was due a haircut. His trainers were really beat up and old, and Sirius was sure he could see one of the laces fraying and considered whether he should warn him he was about to trip.

“When is this wedding?” His voice was still mild and almost disconcertingly polite; he had stopped and was rummaging among a pile of objects on a shelf-seriously, how was anyone supposed to find anything in here?- and Sirius was still staring at his trailing shoelace.

“Well, sort of now.”

He stood up a bit straighter as the brown eyes widened, and he was looking at him, properly, for the first time and Jesus Christ, how were you supposed to stand normally? Where were your arms supposed to go? Eyebrows, light brown and shapeless and a bit sparse at the ends, furrowed and he let out a small huff of amusement. It was the politest expression of ‘this dude’s a complete disaster’ that Sirius had ever seen. “I’ve been putting it off,” he added needlessly. Something about the way this guy was now looking him up and down as if he could read his life story just from Sirius’ tailored trousers that he’d forgotten to get dry cleaned and his hoodie that was actually James’ and his shoes that looked expensive but were actually from TKMaxx was making him need to offer increasingly poor explanations for his shambles of a life. “I don’t want to go, but I have to, and I hate weddings anyway, but especially this one, and I-‘

The look of curious amusement on the guy’s face- god, Sirius really wanted to know his name- halted his rambling. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “I’m not normally this stressed.”

“That’s okay,” he replied, as if it was his job to tolerate a load of garbled nonsense from strangers, like he did it regularly, in fact, which made him wonder what kind of people actually came into this shop that you could barely tell existed. He was still rummaging through the shelves, Sirius was pretty sure a couple of things had fallen off the back and were now in the dark recesses of the between-shelf-and-wall space where things went to die. God, did anyone ever actually buy anything in here? He found it easier to control himself when the guy stopped x-raying him with his eyes, so he said “er, how long’s this shop been here?”

“Oh, I’ve only worked here six weeks. No idea, ages, probably.” He picked up a remarkably creepy porcelain figure of a shepherdess that was covered with so much dust that at first glance, Sirius thought it was some kind of radioactively-deformed elephant.

“I see what you mean,” said Sirius, staring at the figurine reproachfully. “How does anyone find anything in here?” The questions were not what he actually wanted to ask, which involved something along the lines of are you gay-are you single-are you safe from asbestos in this shop and do you think I’m a complete weirdo. He perked up when the guy let out another polite huff of laughter.

“Most customers have been coming in here for years,” he said, “I don’t see a lot of new people.” His eyes flickered to Sirius and back again and Sirius felt as if he was preparing to dive from a very large boat into a sea that was very cold.

“What’s your name?” Sirius asked, louder than he had meant to. He cringed inwardly and for the second time, considered legging it out of the door when he was once again regarded by a pair of searching brown eyes.

“Remus,” he said. Sirius could tell he was waiting for him to laugh. When he didn’t, because how the fuck could this man get any more attractive, and somehow the name Remus suited him down to his shredded laces, he turned to face him, as if in defiance.

“Hilarious, I know. Remus Lupin, which makes it even better.” Sirius’ resolve cracked at this.

“What?” He squawked, dragging his eyes over Remus again, because he looked like any novelist's wet dream and his name was Remus fucking Lupin... “Mine’s worse.” Sirius said, straightening again. Remus Lupin was rolling his eyes as if in grim acceptance of the barrage of snide jibes that had yet to tumble from Sirius’ mouth, but his eyebrows had disappeared into his hair at Sirius’ response and his arms were folded across his chest, which pulled the loose neck of his jumper down and exposed a few inches of pale sternum.

“I don’t believe you.”

Sirius grinned at this. He cleared his throat and pulled his hand out of the pouch/pocket/thing on the front of his hoodie which was definitely not a secure place for his phone, wallet and keys, and held it out.

“Sirius Black. Pleasure to meet you.” Remus’ mouth had fallen slightly open and a smile was touching at the corners of his lips as he took Sirius’ hand. Sirius was almost surprised that there was no jolt of electricity from all the built up static in his woollen jumper, but his skin was cool and his fingers were thin and twiggy and the knuckles were surprisingly big, and he didn’t drop it straight away, which made Sirius wonder if it was intentional, like a sort of gay signal, and then he remembered the Oscar Wilde book on the checkout desk and stopped trying to look for gay signals.

“Holy shit,” Remus spluttered. The profanity rolled masterfully from his lips; Sirius had never quite got the hang of swearing after his stuffy, conservative upbringing. Remus made it sound graceful.

“What a pair, eh?” said Sirius, and then cringed inwardly again because they weren’t a pair, they were complete strangers but somehow it felt like they’d known each other forever and fuck when did it get so hot in here? He looked at the shelves where Remus’ other hand still rested, and tried to ignore the eyes that were sliding up and down his body as Remus Lupin gave him what Sirius recognised as ‘the gay once-over.’ Dressed in the odd assortment of James’ secondary school football hoodie that had been surpassed by the frankly unnatural growth of James’ shoulders, pretentious shoes and crinkled dress trousers, Sirius was acutely aware that he was not looking his whole and considerable best. Christ, he might even look straight.

“There’s um-you said you might have something?” Sirius said, after another twenty five seconds in which Remus’ gaze had lingered on the rings Sirius had forgotten to take off (his mum would kill him if he turned up to a wedding looking like anything other than a Conservative Straight Man) and then drifted to his hair which was probably fried from all the sweating and running about and cheap shampoo. Remus blinked at these words, and whipped his head back to the shelves as if startled he had been caught in the act.

“Yes! Sorry, it’s-erm-can you hold this?” He plonked a cast iron sewing machine into Sirius’ arms who sagged beneath the weight, wheezing as he tried to lock his knees without Remus noticing. What the hell kind of Hulk body was hiding under that jumper? Eyes streaming, he balanced it on top of a pile of ancient National Geographic magazines and prayed it would not succumb to the inevitable force of gravity. Remus was deep into the recesses of the shelf, standing on tiptoe to reach the very back. His socks were visible again and Sirius could see now that they were not pineapples, but durians. Cute. His jumper was riding up as he stretched to whatever unknown artefacts lurked at the very rear and now it was Sirius’ turn to stare, because there was some pale midriff exposed above the waist of his jeans and he was skinny, but not skinny, kind of-lean? Was that the word? He had that vee of muscle above his hip and Sirius was suddenly struggling not to choke on his own tongue.

"Here it is!", came Remus' muffled voice, and Sirius took a step back hurriedly. He was pretty certain he had been gazing glassy eyed at the shop-keeper's navel where a delicate line of dark brown hair descended below his belt, and pinched his own wrist hard behind his back as Remus' head emerged, and he shook some cobwebs out of his curly hair. He was holding a small box, and Sirius’ first thought was that if something covered in that much dust came within eight feet of Narcissa, her immune system would likely spontaneously combust due to overexposure. People like her didn’t have immune systems, they just loaded themselves up with fucking multivitamins and avoided any establishments without at least two Michelin stars. 

“Sorry it’s a bit-“ Remus blew a cloud of dust off the top of the box, coughed, and wiped it off on the back of his jeans, muttering ‘need to stop smoking.’ 

Sirius almost went feral at the image of his lips pursed around a Marlboro, but managed to pull his face into a socially acceptable frame in time for Remus to pass the box to him. “What do you think?” 

Squatting in a bed of midnight blue velvet, sat a pair of silver napkin rings. They were ornate, and completely hideous. Sirius started to grin. He picked one up to examine it. It was decorated with a stag, and the other with a doe. It was likely the engraver had never seen these animals in the flesh, which would account for their mildly horrifying humanoid faces. 

“Perfect,” muttered Sirius, turning the ugly silver object over in his hand. It was heavy and looked antique, and Sirius knew it would fit right in with the future Mrs. Malfoy’s entirely tasteless kitchen decor. He looked up at Remus, disbelieving in the way he had absolutely nailed Sirius’ mission. “Absolutely bloody perfect.” 

Remus grinned back, a wondrous sight, his hands half in the pockets of his faded jeans. Sirius returned the napkin ring to its box, and then thought of something that made his smile falter. 

“Are these solid silver?” 

“Yep,” Remus said happily. “Nineteenth century antiques, I believe.” But Sirius was pushing the box back into his hands, shaking his head. 

“I can’t afford that, sorry I-“ 

“Five quid.” The box flew back into Sirius’ hands before he could blink. 

“Come again?”

The shopkeeper shrugged. “I’m the only person who knew they were there, and I doubt anyone else would want to bestow something that vile on a newly wedded couple.” 

Was this guy even real? Sirius couldn’t quite fathom what he had done to deserve this act of kindness, but he wasn’t about to turn it down. 

“Thank you,” he said, earnestly. Remus shrugged again, but the smile remained. He took Sirius back to the counter, where he took the box back from him and, while Sirius dug in his pocket for some change, produced some silvery wrapping paper and parcelled it. Sirius stole a surreptitious glance at him as he tied it off with a navy ribbon. His eyelashes were sandy like his eyebrows, but they were thick and almost touched his cheeks when his eyes were cast down on his work. 

Sirius was having a crisis. He had never asked for anyone’s number before, but the thought of walking out of this shop and never seeing this god-sent individual again was criminal. His mouth felt dry. What if he had misread this interaction completely, and Remus was just a friendly, helpful guy? He glanced at the book, now balanced on top of the till while Remus rang up, and took a breath. 

“Good book, that” he said, indicating The Picture of Dorian Grey awkwardly. Remus looked from him, to the book, and back again. While Sirius experienced a burning sensation in the base of his chest, Remus nodded non commitantly, and swept the stack of pound coins Sirius had placed on the desk into the till. He looked away, agonising, kicking himself internally at his own ineptness, as he pulled a receipt from the till and passed it and the neatly-wrapped box across the table. 

“All done.” 

“Thanks.” Sirius could feel his cheeks burning, and decided a clean getaway was well overdue. He had picked up the items and had half turned away when he heard- “I wrote my number on that receipt, you know.” 

The burning in his chest now felt like a slowly inflating balloon. He looked down at the smooth piece of paper and saw a number scribbled in biro on its surface. Eleven numbers. Definitely a phone number. He turned hastily back to Remus, who was- Sirius was pleased to see- also looking slightly bashful. 

“Thought my gaydar had malfunctioned for a minute there,” Sirius said. Remus laughed. 

“It was really great to meet you.” He said, placing his feet up on the desk again. 

“And you,” Sirius replied. Elated, he headed for the door before Remus could change his mind. He dreaded to think how late he was now, but he couldn’t think of a situation more worth a bollocking from his mother than this one. He had yanked the reluctant door open when- 

“Hey, Sirius?” 

“Yeah?” He looked over his shoulder. Remus was peering over the top of his book at him again. 

“Let me know how the wedding goes.” 

[beardofkamenev]

When Adults Attack! (Teenagers)

(Sorry to everyone for dragging this up again, but some people are chronically incapable of letting drama die down.)

The last time I posted about this was 18 February. It’s now late-March. Despite repeatedly claiming to be “over it”, a self-proclaimed “respected history blogger” has been screaming into the void for over a month now. She seems to be under the unfortunate impression that she’s completely innocent of wrongdoing, all the criticism is unprovoked, she has been targeted by “white bigots”, and that she’s somehow the real victim here. So now I have to explain why that’s bullshit. Unlike her and her two friends, I don’t make extreme but vague accusations with zero evidence. I don’t make empty threats about “exposing” people.

The short story? She involved her own self in a situation that had nothing to do with her, downplayed her friends’ racism towards others, incited her followers to harass a teenager, repeatedly lied to her followers about the multiple POC who criticised her friends being “white”, and has continued to inflame the issue while trying to downplay her role in doing so. The long story? Well, I’ll let the receipts do the talking.

That’s Olivia’s first post at the start of February, days before I or anyone else had even said anything. “My anonymous Jewish friend said!” should have been a red flag to anyone capable of reading anything longer than 280 characters. I’ve already explained why Haley (lucreciadeleon/turtlemoons plus her 92849374 alt accounts) is full of shit and so have plenty of others (here, here, and here, to name a few).

Olivia claims that, as a Romani woman, she’s not obliged to engage with content that offends her. Fine. So why is a black teenager obliged to engage with Haley’s deranged anons? Why are her hate anons are so worthy of a response that not responding is an act of ANTISEMITISM that warrants Olivia telling everyone what an antisemite this teenager is for not responding? FYI, NO ONE is obligated to respond to anon hate, especially from people they’ve already blocked. And considering Haley admitted not once, not twice, but three times to breaking Tumblr’s TOS to circumvent a mutual block and send those anons (including how she did it), people are especially not obligated to engage with her.

I made my first posts exposing Taylor (lucreziaborgia/elizabethblount) and Haley’s lies and backtracking on 6 and 7 February. This was before I acknowledged Olivia’s role in inflaming the situation. In fact, I didn’t even know about her tweets until 8 February. Yet, here she is on 6 FEBRUARY already bitching about my posts to her Twitter followers. She has some nerve acting like I victimised her, just because I posted the screenshots of her bitching about me. And bragging about ‘gaslighting’? The word that multiple people have separately described what her two friends subjected them to? Classy.

I can’t “stalk” her public Twitter any more than she can “stalk” my public blog. What an exceptionally stupid claim to make, considering her tweets kept getting recommended to my mutuals whether they liked it or not. Have some integrity and own the shit you say, rather than backtracking, deleting your posts, and pretending that you didn’t say the things we saw you say. If you want to talk shit about others in public, be ready to answer for it in public.

I also wonder how this started over Henry VII. I specifically wonder how this discussion between myself and May (richmond-rex) triggered Taylor’s totally unprovoked racist comments about how we and Nathen Amin “simp for a dead white man”, and we should “simp for someone who actually advocated for the rights of others” instead. The implication being that Tudor history is only for white people like Taylor, and that only her fave is worthy of discussion (“AnNe BoLeYn WaS oThErEd BeCaUsE sHe WaS tAn.” Good grief).

When multiple POC called bootleg Regina George out for it, not only did she say she couldn’t possibly be racist because Haley approved of her racism, but also tried to argue that Nathen Amin deserved it because it was inappropriate for a British man to joke about Brexit. She then claimed we called her “anti-Welsh” (another fucking lie) to make it seem like a bunch of cRaZy blacks and browns were attacking poor, innocent white her (with Olivia coming to the rescue, of course). And as if that wasn’t enough, Haley then sent these bad faith hate anons calling Nathen Amin’s tweet ANTISEMITIC, for no other reason than to retroactively justify Taylor’s racist comments (though I didn’t see Haley getting offended when she was hate-scrolling through his blog before Taylor was called out).

That was the “antisemitic shit” Haley ���privately messaged about” that Olivia thinks deserves a response. In case it's not clear: defending racism makes you complicit in racism. Being Jewish is NOT a get-out-of-racism-free card, and Haley trying to use it as one is absolutely dishonest, especially when NO ONE even knew she was Jewish until she finally admitted in February she was the anonymous ‘Jewish friend’ who sent those batshit anons. Other Jewish people also called Haley out on it, yet Haley and Olivia have conveniently ignored that little fact since it contradicts their narrative.

You think it’s over? Nope. Taylor then slunk into May’s dm’s with a half-arsed apology, where she admitted that the only reason she made those racist comments about Nathen Amin was because we “attacked Gareth Russell first” (“BeCaUsE AnNe FaNs CiTe HiS wOrk”) and she “just wanted to educate us about not lionising Henry VII” (even though anyone with eyeballs can read our discussion see she’s full of shit). At the same time, she and Haley were messaging other history bloggers, telling them that everyone who called them out were antisemites (including an openly Jewish mutual of ours) in an attempt to alienate them from the community. And this was just in JANUARY.

“I can’t be racist! My Jewish friend agrees with my racism!” That steaming load of backtracking horseshit is unfortunately the kind of nonsense Olivia has chosen to defend. FOR WEEKS Taylor ignored May’s messages, explaining why she — a black woman — found Taylor’s comments offensive. Did Taylor listen? Nope. In fact, she only replied in February: after she already started posting about how ignoring Haley’s hate anons was “antisemitism”. How convenient. Taylor might be a fucking idiot but we’re not. She only replied to May because she was afraid we’d use her own words against her. Clearly she never learnt a damn thing because here she is on 6 February backtracking on her apology. “Actually, I did NOTHING wrong! Also, you’re all antisemites for saying I did because my Jewish friend agrees with me!” And what made Taylor feel as though she had permission to start deflecting her vile behaviour onto others in order to get the heat off her? Olivia’s post about ‘their Jewish friend’ Haley: the one that followed Olivia’s “private discussion” with “her two friends”. Taylor is a racist hypocrite who hides behind the few minority friends she has to justify her racism, and attacks every other minority who disagrees with her. It’s no coincidence that the majority of the history bloggers who have a problem with Taylor and Haley’s nasty behaviour happen to be POC.

Despite Olivia admitting that she knew nothing about that situation other than what those two told her, she still took it upon herself to misconstrue and downplay to all her followers the extent of her friends’ racism, lies, and general nastiness (here she is on 9 MARCH). For her, our problems with racism are little more than “stupid drama”, “Henry VII drama”, “Gareth Russell drama”, “overreacting to a joke”, and “petty disagreements over dead people” because her friends are the perpetrators. Yet she demands everyone sympathise with her never-ending dramas and projects her behaviour onto others, despite the fact that she’s shown absolutely no understanding for why so many people have problems with her friends and has consistently defended the perpetrators. She’s entitled to be upset at whatever she wants to be upset at, but she is not entitled to tell her followers that we can’t be upset about racism directed at us, especially when that situation NEVER EVEN INVOLVED HER.

I agree. It’s disturbing that three grown women in their mid to late 20s have a vendetta against an 18 year old. Olivia acknowledged that her posts were reckless and that she would have acted differently if she just sat down and thought for one fucking second. But rather than correct the record on the same platform she made those accusations, she doubled down and took off to Twitter, saying that her anger entitled her to act that way. All with zero acknowledgement of the fact that the teenager SHE falsely accused and repeatedly mocked for her age was still being harassed by HER followers as a direct result of HER posts.

She might love the ‘clout’ that comes with a large following, but she evidently doesn’t care about the responsibility that comes with it. In Taylor and Haley’s case, it’s little more than a means to intimidate others into silence. Olivia might be a “respected history blogger” or a “good historian”, but that definitely doesn’t make her a good person. Far from it, if her behaviour is anything to go by.

This was on 9 February, 3 days after my first post. Bitching about me was all fun and games until the receipts came out, huh?

There’s nothing “insane” about keeping receipts, especially when Taylor and Haley are notorious for lying out of their arses and fake-apologising to people in the dm’s, only to continue mocking them on Twitter afterwards. You know what is insane though? Searching ‘romani’ on our blogs in a pathetic attempt to dig up dirt that doesn’t even exist (yeah, stat trackers exist). Do you know what else is insane? Haley spamming people with passive aggressive anons and sending anon hate to people who’ve already blocked her. She also “stalked” our WOTR group chat, though she’ll never admit to it, despite accidentally posting the dated receipts proving it. Oops!

It’s no secret that Taylor and Haley are cowards (as all bullies are), so it was no surprise when they eventually involved Olivia in their month-old vendetta against a teenager. They wanted to school a black girl on racism and Congolese genocide apologism, so they needed to get a “respectable history blogger” on their side. And Olivia happily obliged, kicking up such a fuss on their behalf that the teenager just offered to end it (despite the fact that Olivia vagued her first). Yet still Olivia continued, publicly mocking her age and calling her an “antisemite” long after the discussion was over (here she is on 24 February still carrying on). Either a teenager is old enough to be publicly shamed for being an “antisemite” and “antiromani bigot”, or she’s too young to be taken seriously. But at 25, Olivia is certainly old enough to know better than to participate in this kind of vile, petty, wannabe Mean Girl behaviour.

Olivia is not black. Taylor is not black. Haley is not black. So for the record, if you are not black, it is not your place to tell BLACK PEOPLE whether they can take issue with apologism for BLACK GENOCIDE. Multiple black history bloggers have already explained why they had a problem with Gareth Russell’s comments about the Congolese genocide (including the teen in question), yet that was less important to Olivia than not being able to call him a sexist weirdo because he’s gay. Olivia cannot speak on all minority issues — especially black and brown issues — and it is arrogant of her to assume that she can, especially since her understanding of the Gareth Russell issue came purely from “what she discussed with her two friends” by her own admission.

What a take. Here’s the “anti-Romani” post that I supposedly made. Precisely ZERO of my posts were about Olivia and not once did I even name her directly. So her claims that I mounted some kind of “vicious attack” against her is, uh, bullshit. Criticising her and her friends for their nasty, dishonest, and irresponsible behaviour isn’t “anti-Romani” just because she’s Romani. It’s no more “anti-Romani” than her erratic attempts to “expose” me are anti-Asian just because I’m Asian. It’s not any more “anti-Romani” just because the UK government has passed anti-Romani laws, any more than her telling deranged lies about me for over a month is an anti-Asian hate crime simply because there’s been an increase in anti-Asian hate crimes. I’m not British. I’m not from the UK. I have no control over whatever dumb, racist crap her government does. So she can fuck off and continue fucking off if she wants to make me personally responsible for that. The backlash she received had nothing to do with her identity and everything to do with how she purposely incited harassment against a teenager, defended her friends’ racism, and spread demonstrable lies to her followers. The “viciousness” of the backlash she received is directly proportionate to the viciousness of her own baseless attacks against others. She can claim to be more mature than an 18 year old all she wants, but do you know what the actual mature thing to do would have been? To not promote her friends’ lies and nonsense, especially when the other people they tried to involve had the sense to stay out of it.

Olivia, Taylor and Haley are fully-grown adults, but take no responsibility for their actions. Yet, they expect teenagers to have total control over not only their own emotions, but also the emotions and actions of others. Olivia thinks that a teen should be personally responsible for the behaviour of fully-grown adults, yet she’s close friends with Taylor — a racist, xenophobic bully who screenshots Tumblr people’s posts to mock them on Twitter (here and here from December), called Poles who’ve lost relatives in the Holocaust “genocidal loving freaks”, accused an openly Ashkenazi Jewish blogger of “internalised antisemitism” just for criticising her (a white gentile), said that people who like Mary I “resent their own siblings”, co-opted our struggles under Spanish imperialism just so she could bully ‘Spaniards’ (despite her being American and therefore equally responsible for genocide, by her flawed logic), and said that the black teen who called out her racism “really deserved to be bullied” and “needed to be policed”. Olivia is also close friends with Haley, who has a history of attacking people over posts that have nothing to do with her, publicly admitted to circumventing blocks in order to send hate anons, and likened me — a Filipino immigrant — to DONALD TRUMP and a neo-Nazi conspiracy theorist just because I posted the receipts exposing her lies, harassment of others, and projection.

Most of the people who have spoken out against these three didn’t even know each other until last month. Some of ‘us’ have actually blocked each other. Yet all of us agree that their behaviour towards others has been absolutely unacceptable. How is it that so many unrelated people from different corners of the ‘fandom’ have exactly the same problems with exactly the same people? If Olivia want us to take personal responsibility for “our friends’” behaviour, then she should first take responsibility for hers.

This is on 26 February, over a week after I last posted. As anyone with eyeballs can see, I called her British once. Not “repeatedly”. ONCE. So she can fuck off again with that bullshit. And why did I point that out? Because Olivia, a British citizen, made pejorative comments about “white Eastern Europeans!!!” just because she thinks some Polish people committed the heinous crime of... screenshotting her tweets. They didn’t even do it, and even if they did, how is that even relevant? Everyone knows that one specific Polish person lives rent free in Taylor’s head, so clearly Olivia just took Taylor’s word for it that it must have been The Poles who were “stalking” her. Maybe don’t take paranoid liars at face value next time?

Shameless, ignorant, tone deaf nonsense. Olivia constantly demands that people treat her and her identity with the utmost respect, yet here she was on 9 February already disrespecting the identities of others just so she can score some petty ‘oppression points’ against them. Why even bring their nationalities up? And why call them “white Eastern Europeans” instead of Polish since she knows they’re Polish? Is it because acknowledging that they are Polish would mean acknowledging that she doesn’t actually have a monopoly on a claim to discrimination or Holocaust trauma? Could it be that dismissing them as just some “white Eastern Europeans” was just another way for her to add credence to her own “pathetic lies” about the situation? There’s a word for that behaviour, and it starts with pro- and ends with -jection.

Let me reiterate: it is IGNORANT of her to use their identity against them, especially when hate-crimes against Polish immigrants have increased in her home country, and especially when the specific people she insulted lost close relatives (including Jewish relatives) in the Holocaust. It’s not “repeatedly mocking her identity” to point out her hypocrisy. Her being Romani is not an excuse for casual xenophobia. She might be able to hide her identity in the UK (though she shouldn’t have to), but Polish immigrants do not have the privilege of passing as first-language white British. I cannot pass as non-Asian. The black girl she and her friends tried to bully off Tumblr cannot pass as non-black. Olivia weaponising people’s identity against them just because she thinks they saw her public tweets is ignorant, petty, and completely uncalled for. She should be absolutely ashamed for using that pathetic argument, but based on her most recent farrago of nonsense, she probably won’t be.

Here’s her on 7 MARCH. And of course Taylor was the first to like it lol. Olivia may have deluded herself into believing she was just an innocent bystander, but unfortunately, enough people saw her admitting to inserting herself into the situation at the behest of her two friends. With every post before and since, her accusations have gotten wilder and wilder, falser and falser, and more and more irrelevant because she knows full well that none of her followers will bother fact-checking her. That’s the beauty of vagueing people. It’s how Taylor and Haley have been able to get away with pulling the wool over peoples’ eyes for so long. Too bad repetition, projection, and self-righteous outrage doesn’t equate to the truth because those are all those three have.

“SOMEONE NEEDS TO EXPOSE THE WHOLE DAMN LOT OF THEM! BUT IT WON’T BE ME!” 

No one has said anything since 18 February, yet here’s Olivia publicly inciting her followers again. She’s “done talking about it”, yet she’s the only one continuing the drama. She is being ‘persecuted’, yet she mobilises her followers to go after others. She needs to be defended against critics, yet she also can’t resist bragging about big her Tumblr following is, how “piddly” our notes are compared to hers, how she got over 30 followers to report my posts (they’re still up lol), and how many people she can get to dig through our blogs to find anything to “expose” us. Olivia, I’m sorry that you require constant validation from strangers on the internet, but not everyone has the same priorities as you. Some of us just come here to have fun, but having shitstarters in the community is decidedly un-fun.

All my posts were directed at Taylor and Haley, but since Olivia insists on making this revolve around her, let me clarify: she is a hypocrite and a professional victim. Words have meaning, and those words are the most accurate words to describe her behaviour. It has fuck all to do with her identity. She and Haley are professional victims because they act as if their minority statuses exempt them from basic rules of online courtesy and entitle them to run their mouths about others with no consequence. And Olivia is a hypocrite because she demands the respect and understanding that she has repeatedly refused to show to others. She made ignorant, xenophobic comments against Polish people because she falsely assumed they screenshot her public posts bitching about others. She pretends that the many POC who have spoken out against her are just some “white” hive-mind because admitting that we’re not white will discredit the victimhood narrative she’s been peddling to her followers. And she arrogantly presumes to be ‘our’ voice in the community, all while mobilising her following to intimidate and silence the minorities who take issue with her and her friends’ vile behaviour.

It’s extremely telling that in every one of her unlettered rants, Olivia made the conscious choice to conflate us with “white gentiles”, “white antisemites”, and “white Eastern Europeans”. Why? Because in order to “name and shame” us, she’d have to admit to her followers that the majority of the people criticising her aren’t actually “white”, but are in fact black, brown, and Jewish. Having repeatedly demanded that her followers defend her, her reputation and credibility now depends upon people continuing to see her as the oppressed victim of “bigoted whites”. Unfortunately for her and her friends, the truth will always come out. That’s what receipts are for, no matter what they claim.

The history community didn’t side with “a white gentile woman”. We sided with a black teenager who Olivia and her friends repeatedly mocked for her age, publicly and privately spread false accusations against, and incited their followers to harass with their never-ending posts. We sided against white racists like Taylor, and her white-passing enablers like Olivia and Haley. Since being called out for racism by a black girl discredited them, they had to discredit her. And unlike the others Taylor and Haley tried to involve, Olivia was their willing accomplice. If she has now been “alienated by half the history fandom”, it is because of her own behaviour and rightly so.

The ideal course of action would be for Olivia to finally take some responsibility for her actions, publicly apologise for her role in inflaming this drama, and move on like the rest of us have tried to do. But unfortunately, she may be too far gone in her own pathological need for online validation to ever admit wrongdoing without some serious introspection. So perhaps, Olivia, if anything else, you should just take your own advice and, once and for all, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

[equiuszahhak]

PLOT INCOMING

Aradia and Kyrril come to see Loom. They’re upset. They don’t feel well. Eventually, they fall asleep after some nice time together. Here is the not good time:

Loom

Zzz they fall asleep and probably mumble the others can leave if and when they want.

Aradia

ee doesnt leave

Kyrril

As if he'd even think about it. After he's sure they're settled though, he will kind of... raise an eyebrow questioningly at Aradia. Girl do you know anything?

Aradia

she shakes her head and shrugs, nope!

Kyrril

A little frown. A lil more brow furrow. Troubling.

Aradia

she nods like yeah...

Loom

Sn,snore

Aradia

she tries not to giggle too loud and accidentally wake them up

little noises...

Loom

They've started changing to their true form when they sleep! Aradia got all 6 arms around her.

Aradia

oh fuck hella pinned

Loom

She ain't going nowhere

Aradia

kyrril help i am being engulfed

Loom

Kyrril under hair

Aradia

they are both entangled

lord help them

Kyrril

This is fine. More than fine. He gave a soft little chirp of amusement.

More hands to hold. Don't complain!

Loom

Chirp.....

Aradia

ee isnt complaining, she giggles at kyrril cute noise

Loom

Loom eventually moves to their back. Hold both babes.

Aradia

oh they are hold

ees face is on their chest

pillow

Loom

Their shirt sags at the middle, covering their stupid torso mouth

Pillow

Kyrril

Hey, it's a good mouth torso.

Aradia

omg their torso mouth is open. kyrril try not to get too horny

Kyrril

Kyrril will try to hold all three of the hands on his side. he will NOT get horny thank you. he can read the room

Aradia

that would be hilarious

ee pats their torso teeth

they are so big

Loom

The teeth wiggle slightly at the gum

Aradia

'0mg...'

'the teeth m0ve'

Kyrril

his eyes do that thing a cat's do when they're interested in smth. BIG pupils. But he will resist. Whisper time. "Now is not the time. To experiment. They need the rest."

Aradia

'if its anything like last time they are a heavy sleeper. im just waiting f0r the tentacles t0 sh0w up'

Loom

The mouth will open wider, slowly. Teeth bloom and flower to move out of the way. A hand reaches out. Long nails, exposed muscle. Blue and black tar dripping from it

Its only finger tips at first

Kyrril

uh

UH.

Aradia

'uh 0h'

'i jinxed it'

Loom

The eyes that bubble and float within their maw follow as if underwater, but fade out of existence the higher they go. Some pop. Their freckles stop glowing, one by one.

Aradia

'y0u never cease t0 amaze me l00mie' kiss on the cheek

Kyrril

He is........ Alarmed. Sitting up just slightly, peaking curiously under their shirt at the mouth.

Aradia

's0... are y0u g0ing t0 h0ld that hand? i th0ught i was being ungrateful'

Loom

Words come from within. another hand emerges, like trying to pull itself out. Arms lead into the maw

Kyrril

"Aradia." it's a.... warning tone. "I do not think. This is. Normal."

Loom

When Kyrril looks, deep down inside, it goes for miles. Lift up the shirt, kyrril. Pressure in the room shifts

Aradia

she pokes a floating eyeball seeing if itll pop

Loom

It pops.

Aradia

vu0!

Kyrril

Yeah, sorry Loom, he's nosy. Shirt gets shoved up, since Aradia actin a fool, he gonna take this somewhat seriously. Gonna. Touch one of the hands. Should he just. Shove it back in?

Aradia

'hey y0u were the 0ne g00fing ar0und last time getting all c0zy with mystery limbs last time, and i was w0rried, and i was sh0wed up since n0thing bad happened'

Kyrril

"Last time. Something was not trying to crawl out of our mate's chest."

Aradia

'h0w d0 y0u kn0w this isnt just m0re 0f them'

Loom

The hand recoils, and the slimy skinless mess grabs him for leverage. It pulls. It wants out. Shoulders dislocate, the maw is not large enough.

There is gurgling scream, a half formed face pressed up to the teeth that cage it in. Eyes striking blue, filled with hate. Hunger. Deparation.

Aradia

'0k n0w im w0rried' she crawls out of looms arms or at least tries to

Loom

Loom themself is limp

Aradia

she is peeking over the side of the bed from the floor

Loom

LET ME OUT. I COMMAND IT. LET ME OUT.

Kyrril

Ah, Ahhh, he does NOT like that, thank you!! If it's going to grab him, he's not gonna yank it back, just shove it further in. Back! Back ye foul beast!

Aradia

'wh0 are y0u' she calls from behind the safety of the edge of the bed

Kyrril

"Loom? Loom wake up."

Loom

Its claws dig into him.

Aradia

aradia flies up and on kyrrils side trying to dislodge the hand from him

Loom

I AM THE RIGHTFUL HEIR.

The screams are pained, dry yet wet. The voice is distinctly female.

Aradia

'rightful heir?'

Kyrril

Oh, now you wanna help. But he knows not to be petty right now. He'd really, really like to not lose his hand, thanks! And this hurts like a bitch. Noticeably, he's shaking. "You are not welcome here."

Loom

You are mine. You are MINE.

It growls, almost sobbing.

Highblood, please, dont let me die again.

I'll kneel. I will kneel this time.

Aradia

Aradia pulls the creatures fingers out of kyrrils arm while trying to make sense of all this

"Are y0u sure this is s0mething kyrril"

Kyrril

Okay! Okay this is getting weird. His pupils are pinpoints, the orange of his eyes red. "I don't know. What this is. Aradia." It's scary and skinless and screaming

Loom

Makara. Please.

It bubbles.

Aradia

"Hes n0t gamzee!" She calls defensively

Kyrril

He's tearing himself away fast enough to fall off the end of the bed

Man down

Aradia

She helps him up

Loom

Gamzee, gamzee, gamzee--

Crazed and reaching out.

Rustblood. Please, you're alive. You're back now, tell him I'm good. I did what he wanted. You're here. You're all here.

The hands are slipping back in. They hold loosely to the teeth that keep it back.

Please. Please.

Aradia

'Equius?' She crawls back into bed approaching carefully

"Hes n0t gamzee... but he thinks y0ure really g00d"

Loom

The tar has melted anyway. There is a clear face. Its loom, its not. Soft features, full breasts, blue eyelashes and a slit throat.

She reaches out slowly, slipping.

Aradia

Aradia wants to pat their head out of pity but is afraid of being grabbed. Her hand reaches out but she hesitates

Loom

Please.

She begs, lurid blue tears streaking comparably pale skin. It's a steep drop, into the abyss.

Slip.

Aradia

Oh god

Aradia

Aradia looks into the hole

And occasionally back to kyrril to make sure he isnt dead

Loom

Their body is like a cracked chrysalis. The echoing scream fades after a bit. Looms freckles ignite again

But they dont stir

Kyrril

He's not dead, just.... frozen. He doesn't know what to do with this. He's.... scared, almost.

"........What.... was that."

Aradia

"I think it was 0ld v0idl00m"

"Fr0m the m0ment bef0re they were killed. By gamzee. Wh0 they c0nfused y0u with. Which is unf0rtunate"

Loom

The mouth closes, teeth forming a tight lattice.

Aradia

"It cl0sed..."

"I feel s0 bad..."

Kyrril

He remembers hearing about Gamzee! Doesn't like that at all. Doesn't like any of this at all. Hearing that it closed, he dares a step closer.

"...Bad?" He's so lost. He's. So damn confused. "Why.. Why was it-- Why were they here?"

Aradia

"Are y0u 0k?" She says in a pathetic voice, cracking as if shes about to cry

"I d0nt kn0w why they were here! But they were calling f0r help... and they fell"

Kyrril

"Yes." No. Absolutely not. But he's mechanically climbing back into the bed. Grab one of Loom's hands to squeeze probably too tightly.

".....is this. What they were so concerned with.?"

Loom Looms going to be out for a while. But their chest begins to animate, and they are mortal again.

Gray skin. Black hair. Heart deathly slow.

Aradia

"P0ssibly... i mean this sickness. Its happened bef0re"

"It seems like with what happened back then. But back then everything that appeared. The hands, the tentacles. All them. Makes sense that w0uld have been them as well"

Kyrril

"But that. Finished." He had his heart attack about all that already!! Why again.

Aradia

"We d0nt kn0w that! We d0nt kn0w ab0ut anything thats g0ing 0n! And n0w y0ure hurt... and l00m... wh0 kn0ws when theyll even wake up"

Loom

They groan actually. Brow furrowed, but still asleep.

Aradia

She sighs in relief

Kyrril

He gives her a look like he hadn't considered that, and is very mad she put the thought in his head. But the movement is. Good. Promising. He's settling down to lay beside them with jerky movements. He won't sleep but. You know. "We can speak with them. Tomorrow."