#i receive all communication from my favorite lead but they don’t tell him shit either >

[gobbluthbutagirl]

that target i work in is literally SO horrible and bad and the thing is. it’s always been like this. But the other thing is. they used to have better people in charge! so it used to be tolerable!

[bitch-for-bo]

Jealousy (Miya Atsumu x chubby reader)

POST TIME SKIP

Bokuto and his childhood best friend have gotten awfully close lately, a little too close for Atsumu's liking. He's mad about how much attention you give to Bokuto after a game, when you confront him about his attitude, things quickly get out of control.

ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Atsumu’d had enough. He’d been watching you shamelessly ogle over and compliment Bokuto for the last five minutes, and you’d failed to notice him or congratulate him once. All he’d gotten so far was a quick kiss along with a ‘good game’ before you’d ran over to Bokuto to hype the hitter up.

He didn’t care that you were just having a light good-natured conversation with your childhood friend. All he could focus on was the way that your bodies were unconsciously tilted towards each other or how Bokuto’s hands were lingering a little too much as he wrapped them around you for a hug.

It wasn’t just today either. All it had been with you for the last week at least, was how awesome and strong Bokuto was. Not to mention how built he was. God, you went to the gym with Bokuto once, and now you wouldn’t stop rambling about how surprisingly ripped the spiker was beneath his jersey.

All it was was,

“Oh my god, did you know that Bokuto can hip thrust almost 600 pounds! God! He could crush me with those thighs!”

Or

“We were goofing off and Bokuto actually picked me up and squatted me!”

All of these things were said in front of the whole MSMBY team, causing Bokuto to puff up with pride, Hinata to marvel at his awesomeness, Sakusa not to care, and Atsumu to go off and seeth to himself.

Of course, you didn’t know the effect that you had on Atsumu. You couldn’t tell that every time you playfully flirted with Bokuto, telling him how handsome and strong he was, that Atsumu was filled with the urge to rip you away and fuck you right in front of the whole team, letting them know just who you belonged to.

You didn’t know this because, while Atsumu was incredible at communicating with his teammates, he was shit at expressing his feelings when it came to you. This led to him bottling up all of his feelings until they became too much for him. At which time he would go and rant to a very jaded and very annoyed Kiyoomi.

“Yeah, but did you see that one hit in the second set Y/N! Wasn’t it awesome!” Bokuto asked excitedly, bouncing back and forth on the pads of his feet as the two of you had a very animated conversation about the game he just played.

“Of course I did Bo! It was so cool!” You exclaimed back, matching his exuberant energy with your own.

You were incredibly proud of your childhood best friend, and you were super thankful that he just happened to be on the same team as your boyfriend. It made it to where you were always able to cheer both of them on without them being on opposite sides of the court. In your eyes, it was a win-win.

“Yeah well, maybe it was ‘cause someone gave you an awesome set,” Atsumu grumbled just loud enough for you and Bokuto to hear as he stood a couple of feet away from you with his arms crossed and a childish scowl on his face.

“Oh, don’t be like that Tsumu. Bo’s spike was fantastic!” You lightly scolded the blonde to which he just made a ‘hmph’ sound before turning and sulking away.

You had no clue why Tsumu got like this when you congratulated Bokuto. It wasn’t like you didn’t congratulate him as well. You always made sure that the blonde was the first and the last to receive cheers from you. So you had no idea why he was being so fussy lately.

As Atsumu walked away Bokuto could practically see the waves of anger radiating off of his back, and he guiltily ignored them. He knew why Atsumu acted like that when Y/N congratulated his spikes. He knew why Atsumu hated the idea of his girlfriend going to the gym and hanging out with one of his teammates.

He knew that the way that he interacted with Y/N made Atsumu angry, but he ashamedly did it regardless.

He couldn’t help it. The two of you had been so close as children, you grew up together, he knew everything about you. He knew your favorite color, all of your fears, your dreams, and when the two of you had decided to attend different high schools and got out of touch it had really hurt him.

That was why he was so happy when he joined the Jackals, that you just happened to be the girlfriend of one of his new teammates. Over the last couple of months, the two of you had re-ignited your old friendship and things were just like old times.

Well, they were just like old times until Bokuto realized that you weren’t the kid he used to know. Your personality was fundamentally the same, but drastically different at the same time.

He remembered back in primary school just how shy and insecure of a girl you were. He remembered defending you against the people who would bully you for your size, and comforting you when you cried about the mean things they would say.

Bokuto had always despised those people that had made you hate yourself. So every chance he got he would try to cheer you up and let you know just how great you really were.

Over the years, that insecure part of you really changed. It changed so much that at first Bokuto wasn’t sure if it was really you. No longer did you walk with your gaze on the floor, covering your body with too-baggy clothing. No longer did you apologize unnecessarily or hold your tongue in conversations.

The moment that he’d seen you with Atsumu, he was completely taken back. You had been wearing a corset top and jeans that perfectly hugged your plush frame as well as a pair of black heels.

You had always been afraid of showing your body like that in the past. You didn’t like the way that your stomach wasn’t flat or the way that your thighs rubbed together and shook when you walked. He’d also never seen you in a pair of heels before, you were always afraid of being taller than the guys seeing as you were already pretty tall without heels on.

Much to Bokuto’s surprise and delight, you finally seemed comfortable in your body, confident even. And for good reason too because, in Bokuto’s opinion, your body had developed into one of the best bodies he’d ever seen. He would discreetly stare at you when you were with the team, his eyes fixating on the way that you jiggled and bounced every time you moved. He couldn’t help but develop a bit of jealousy towards Atsumu. After all, you were the blonde’s and not his, and sometimes, he would let his mind stray and wonder if he’d be in Atsumu’s place if the two of you had never lost touch.

“Anyways,” you said, pulling Bokuto out of his small daydream, “Are you guys gonna go out and celebrate tonight?”

You made sure to ask loud enough to where all of the Jackal’s heard. The players you didn’t speak to much just ignored you, including the captain who muttered something about being way too beat to go clubbing.

Hinata said he was going to go and hang out with Kageyama.

Sakusa said he wanted to go shower and rest.

And Atsumu was still fuming to himself, refusing to acknowledge your question.

“Hmm, I guess not,” Bokuto said, his hair slightly deflating. He was thinking about how it would be fun to go out when his body suddenly reminded him of the hard game that he just played. “To tell the truth Y/N, I’m pretty exhausted. I think I’ll follow Kiyoomi’s lead and just rest up.”

You frowned, yet nodded in understanding. They just played a really strenuous match so you couldn’t blame any of them for not feeling up to going out.

“I get it, make sure you all recover well!” you offered, your bright signature smile coming across your face and managing to increase the atmosphere’s energy a bit.

Bokuto waved as he and Hinata left the gym to head back to the hotel they were staying at for the night, each of them recapping their best plays of the night like feuding children.

You waved back before turning to your boyfriend, your frown returning when you saw that he was still sulking.

Atsumu didn’t even acknowledge you as he walked right past you and stomped out of the gym. Your frown only deepened at your boyfriend’s behavior, was he really opposed to you congratulating his teammates?

“Hey!” you called after Atsumu, trying to jog to catch up to him. “Hey!” you restated, you could tell that he was taking a little longer strides than usual, knowing that your chubby legs wouldn’t be able to keep up unless you shifted from a walk to a jog.

After he still didn’t reply, you decided to hold your tongue until you got to his hotel room, you didn’t want everyone in the building hearing your relationship squabbles and you definitely didn’t want to attract the attention of any paparazzi.

The walk to the hotel was dead silent. Atsumu was making no attempt to talk to you, and you decided that if he didn’t want to talk to you, you didn’t want to talk to him. And even if you did want to talk to him, you’d have to jog as you did it seeing as the asshole was still walking just fast enough to stay two or three strides ahead of you.

Once you made it to the hotel and after a very awkward elevator ride, the two of you arrived at the door to his room. He turned to look at you.

“You’re not planning on staying are you?” He asked coldly, looking down his nose at you as your mouth popped open in surprise.

While Atsumu was normally a great boyfriend, he really knew exactly what to say to hurt you. After a couple of months of dating, you had opened up to him about your past traumas and admitted to him that you used to only feel like a nuisance to people. He’d assured you that you were never a nuisance to him, that he could never grow tired of you. And him saying that made you feel a little bit better about that particular insecurity. So when he said that, your heart dropped.

“Oh,” you said quietly.

As soon as your gaze dropped to the floor, Atsumu knew that he’d really fucked up and guilt automatically began eating at his stomach. He felt incredibly bad and yet his mouth wouldn’t open to apologize.

“ok,” you continued, you could feel yourself wanting to cry but stopped yourself in fear of your tears only fueling Atsumu’s annoyance with you.

No one liked a clingy crybaby, you told yourself as you bit your lip to hold back the emotions.

“I guess I’ll just go back home, maybe I’ll see if Bo wants to go get some food,” you mumbled, turning to leave the setter.

“Of fucking course…” you heard Atsumu muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You turned back around, slightly angry at Atsumu’s attitude. You had tried to be sensible and walk away, giving him space, but if the asshole wanted to talk under his breath at you, you had every right to get angry. If he thought something was wrong he needed to man up and let it out.

“What’d you say?” You asked, your hands starting to fist at your sides.

“You heard me.” Atsumu sneered back, crossing his arms across his chest but not retreating into his hotel room. If anything the actions only caused your frustration to grow. Why the fuck was he being like this? He’s acting like a literal child.

You took a few quick steps towards the blonde, jabbing your finger into his chest as you glared up at him.

“Listen,” you hissed, “I have no fucking clue why you’re acting like this, but it’s not cute and it’s hurting my feelings. I’m not a mind-reader, if you have something bothering you, you have to tell me.”

“What?” Atsumu growled. He couldn’t believe that you really didn’t know what was bothering him. There was no way someone could be that fucking naive.

“You heard me.” you snipped back, your arms coming up to cross your body in a stance mirroring his.

Before you could tell what was happening, Atusmu had grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you inside of his room, the door slamming behind the two of you as he automatically trapped your body against it.

While you were still stunned by the extreme progression of events, Atsumu had unlooped your belt and fastened it around your wrists, securing them firmly behind your back.

“Hey! What the fuck Atsumu!” You seethed, your arms straining against the leather as the position forced your chest out against Atsumu’s.

“You really wanna know what’s bothering me?” he asked, the anger visible on his face.

“Yes!” You exclaimed in frustration, “that’s what I’ve been wanting to know for the last 15 goddamn minutes!”

As soon as you’d finished your sentence, Atsumu’s face got eerily calm. Instead of the scowl that’d been on his face a second ago, there was his usual smirk. A chill ran down your spine.

His hands left their place on your confined wrists to tightly grip your hips, almost hard enough to leave bruises.

“What a dirty mouth for such a pretty little thing.” He drawled, leaning closer to you until you could almost taste the sweat that had dried onto his temples.

“What ar-”

“ Shhh …” he cut you off, one hand coming up to press a finger against your mouth before going back down and curling lightly around your throat. “You wanna know what’s bothering me, Princess?”

His lips were against your jaw, his teeth scraping against the skin as he mumbled.

“Maybe…..” he continued, the hand that was on your hip tracing across your stomach until it came to the button of your jeans. He popped them open, eliciting another protest from you which he silenced with a slightly harder squeeze to your throat.

Your body was betraying you with every touch he left against your skin. You really didn’t want to give him the reactions that he so clearly craved, but you just couldn’t help the way your body responded to him.

“Maybe it’s because you dress like such a little slut at my games…. Are you trying to distract me, Princess?” He asked, his teeth disconnecting from your jaw as he pulled your jeans down and off of your body before reconnecting even rougher than before.

All you’d been wearing to the match was a pair of high waisted denims along with a simple black cropped tank top, you’d have worn one of Atsumu’s jerseys but they were all dirty at the moment. It was a simple outfit, it wasn’t anything to get pissed over, definitely not this pissed.

“No” you mumbled, still not wanting to let Atsumu know that his touch was affecting you as much as it was.

“Or were you trying to distract other guys, Princess? Were ya trying to show off yer pretty body to them like a little whore?”

Atsumu had worked your jeans completely off and was hooking his fingers around the band of your panties, obviously planning to tear them off of you as well.

Atsumu had never called you such mean things before and part of you hated the idea of him trying to tear your confidence down with the terms, but at the same time, there was no denying the terrible effect it was having on your body. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter at the condescending words of your boyfriend and your resolve was quickly dissipating into the want to obey and submit to him with every fiber of your being.

“N-No!” you stuttered as you squealed at the feeling of Atusumu practically ripping your panties off of your body.

“ Liar.” he spat before taking your soaked panties and stuffing them into your mouth, effectively shutting you up as you moaned around the cloth at the lewd actions.

“You wanted all those guys to stare at yer ass didn’t you?” he asked, punctuating the question with a sharp slap to your ass, making you cry out and fall against his chest as he pulled you into him, one hand gripping your throat still as the other began to roam your plush silhouette.

“Or did you want them looking at your pretty tits?” he continued, taking your tank top between his fingers and pulling it down to expose your heaving chest, discovering that you’d been wearing one of those tops with a built-in bra.

“ A-aa ” you tried to moan out his name around the gag as his graceful setter fingers began to play with your already hard nipples.

“No bra? You really are my little slut aren’t ya? ” One of his hands continued to play with your breasts as the other slowly dragged down your waist, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

You keened against his body as his middle finger roughly slipped across your slit, drawing delicious circles around your clit. The fight in you was almost completely gone. You hadn’t forgiven your asshole boyfriend, it just felt so good to have him pressed up against you like this, touching you, controlling you.

“ Shit... “ he grunted, his finger sliding easily against you due to how incredibly wet you were for him.

His cock was straining against his shorts, but he knew that he didn’t want to give you his cock just yet, he needed to punish you first for how you’d been acting. Acting so naughty, such a little tease. You deserved to be taught a lesson.

“Does watching me play make you horny Princess, do you stand there and imagine getting to sit on my cock?” He asked, his fingers playing with your pussy as he started to walk you into the bathroom, his fingers never leaving your cunt.

“Mhmm.” You moaned in compliance.

Your body was hot with the need for his cock inside of you as the memory of the game played in your head. The way that he moved on the court never failed to soak your panties as you stood and cheered him on in the audience. Every single game you would watch his serves, just thinking about how he was just as powerful off the court as he was on. You couldn’t help but get wet just thinking about the possibility of fucking him after the game.

You thought that, with how Atsumu was acting, you weren’t going to get any victory dick today, turns out that you were obviously wrong. Not only were you getting dick, you were getting it like you’d never gotten it before. You could still feel the anger seeping out of Atsumu as his cruel fingers continued to torture you.

“Well, only good girls get their pussies stuffed.” he breathed against your neck, a pitiful whine leaving your lips as he slowly pushed a finger into your pussy.

“ Are you gonna be a good girl for me? ” He asked, mentally groaning at the way your soft walls clenched around the thick digit.

With the way that your tight wet cunt fluttered around his fingers, he almost forgot why he was mad. It was incredible the way that you could make him forget things like that, the way that you had him wrapped around your cute stubby fingers.

“Mhm!” you nodded frantically. Your hands were still bound and your mouth still gagged, so all you could do to convey your desperate message was moan and rub yourself against Atsumu like a bitch in heat, your hips pathetically trying to fuck yourself down onto his finger.

“What’s that?” he snickered, a second finger pressing into your cunt as the first found your g-spot, stroking up into the spongy texture without mercy.

You cried out, you could feel yourself starting to lose it. Usually, you could last much longer than this, but something about the way that Atsumu was manhandling you this time, made it so much harder to keep cool.

It felt like the setter had taken over all of your senses as he continued to finger fuck you into the wall of the bathroom. One hand was fucking your pussy and massaging your clit while the other was kneading your tits, pinching your nipples. At the same time, his mouth was latched onto your neck, sucking deep bruises into the skin, branding you for his whole team to see.

“That’s right Princess..” he groaned, he could feel you clenching harder around his fingers and he knew that you were getting close. “Imma mark you up so good everyone’s gonna know who you belong to.”

You knew that Atsumu was the jealous, possessive type, but nothing could’ve prepared you for just how extreme the problem was. You still didn’t know what sparked this little tantrum and you had the feeling that you wouldn't be able to pull the reason out of the setter until you let him have his way. Hopefully, you’d be able to walk after.

You could feel your end rising, the familiar feeling of a rubber band in your lower belly getting ready to snap. You threw your head back against the wall, trying to keep yourself from crying with the delicious pressure building up inside of you.

Atsumu must’ve known you were close, he used his free hand to help you rotate your arms over your head, twisting the belt around to allow the movement but not to allow you freedom.

“Hold your cunt open for me baby,” he demanded, guiding your hand down to your pussy and directing your arms to press against your stomach and your fingers to hold yourself open to where he could see his fingers fucking into you.

You were a mess, moaning and drooling around the gag as Atsumu’s gaze focused on the way that you continued to suck him back in with every pump of his wrist. He spat on his other hand before giving your clit a light spank, making you jerk against his hold, all of the air completely leaving your lungs as you clenched around his fingers.

“ Yeah …” he growled, his palm beginning to rub against your clit, the quick wet movements making you start crying with pleasure.

“W-nmnmwn” you begged around the gag, trying to warm Atsumu that you were about to cum. He liked it when you asked permission, so you always did and now your body was conditioned to where you almost couldn’t cum without him saying you could.

“What was that Princess?” he asked smugly, he knew exactly what you were trying to say. He knew that while you were acting like a little whore towards Bokuto lately, he was the one that owned your body, he knew that his baby wouldn’t disobey him and cum without permission.

You continued to beg around the gag, your hips and legs burning with the exertion of searching for your high against his hand. You were getting desperate. You looked up at your boyfriend.

Atsumu almost came at the sight of you looking up at him.

You looked so pretty for him, drool on your chin, tears in your eyes, he swore that before he was done with you, those tears would be running down your face, that he would make you cry and beg for his cock, make you admit that only he could fuck you this good. Not Bokuto, not anyone, just him.

“Do you wanna cum for me, Princess?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Okay then… cum for me Princess …” he demanded, leaning in, pulling down your gag, and taking your lips in a punishing kiss.

You cried out into his mouth, your orgasm finally washing over your body, causing it to spasm and jerk in Atsumu’s grip as he held you to his body, his fingers brutally fucking you through your high.

As soon as you’d stopped shaking, Atsumu slipped his fingers out of you and flipped you around, pressing his cock against your ass as your front was pressed into the bathroom counter. You rested your head down against the mirror, your eyes closing as your body still reeled from your orgasm.

You needed a little breather, but that wasn’t in Atsumu’s plan. His hand came down across your ass, making you squeak and lurch forward, your tits pressing down against the counter and your ass popping up into the air.

“Now come on Princess,” he drawled, pulling his cock out of his pants and thrusting it into you without warning, ripping a cry from your chest, “yer not tired yet are ya? We’re just getting started!”

“Nooo please ‘Tsumu...” you gasped, pushing yourself further into the counter, trying and failing to evade his touch.

His cock was hot and heavy inside of your still spasming pussy. You could feel every vein in him as you continued to pulse around him, he almost felt like his dick was suffocating in your soft puffy walls.

Atsumu groaned as he started to slowly fuck into you. He knew that if he started out going as fast as he’d like to, he’d be finished way too soon for his liking so he decided to slow his hips, his cock languidly dragging against your warm insides.

Atsumu couldn’t help these feelings of jealousy. After all, Bokuto was bigger and stronger than him. Deep down, he knew that the reason he was so bitter about you and the hitter’s friendship was that he was afraid of you leaving him for the owl-like spiker.

That’s why Atsumu chose to fuck you in the bathroom. He knew that the wall in the bathroom was the closest wall to Bokuto’s room. He knew that if he fucked you hard enough, he could make you scream his name loud enough to where his teammate would hear you. Then Bokuto would know just who you wanted stuffing your pretty little pussy.

“Come on Princess.” he teased, his hips grinding against your ass with a particularly hard thrust that had your mouth popping open and your lungs gasping for air.

“ You know you love this cock ……” he grunted when your pussy flared around him, clenching against his cock at the words, he grinned, he never knew that you liked getting fucked like a little slut, but now that he knew he swore that he’d never be able to return to fucking you like he had before. Not with the way that you were leaking for him as his degrading words cut through you like a hot knife.

You’d already adjusted to having him inside of you, the heat of him inside of you only being soothed by the cool countertop against your tits. You moaned with every thrust, you could already feel your mind beginning to fog over as Atsumu thrust behind you, plotting to fuck you dumb.

He suddenly stilled his hips, making you whine, trying to push yourself back onto him.

“‘Tsumu…” you whined, your eyes meeting his in the bathroom mirror, “move…”

He smirked, clicking his tongue at his messed up little baby.

“Tell me how much you love my cock, Princess.” He said, taking his dick completely out of you to rub it against your pussy lips, “tell me how much you love it and maybe I’ll fuck you again.”

Your face burned with humiliation. Atsumu had never acted this way before. Sure he was an asshole, but never this much of an asshole. That being said, there was no denying the impact that this side of Tsumu had on your body. You felt like you’d been enveloped in fire, every part of it burning up with need.

“ Please ‘Tsumu… .” you begged, “ I love your big cock so much….please fuck me …”

Atsumu groaned, his dick twitching against your slit. He loved hearing you like this, your voice broken as you begged for him to fill you. He could see the tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. So pretty.

“Since you asked so nicely Princess-” he cooed before harshly pumping his cock back into you, starting to fuck into you at a pace that had you crying and bucking back against him.

“Fuck!” you cried, “ Fuck- Tsumu…. Harder…. Fuck me harder ” you begged, you let your forehead fall forward against the mirror, your eyes drifting close.

“Shit” Tsumu growled through gritted teeth, you were so tight around him. He looked up to see your eyes closed.

‘Now that won’t do..’ he thought before threading a hand through your hair and pulling your head back off of the mirror, making a moan spill from your mouth and your eyes spring open.

“Come on Princess,” he panted, “ I wanna see your pretty tears while I fuck you. ”

***************

This was Atsumu’s favorite way to fuck you until you were crying and shaking around his cock. You looked so pretty with that dumb little look on your face, your eyes and lips puffy as you begged him to make you cum, telling him that all of it was too much for your poor little pussy.

He knew that you were reaching your limits, your pussy was fucked raw after 4 orgasms. You weren’t even able to form full sentences anymore, the only words coming out of your mouth were ‘more’ and ‘please’ along with all of your pretty pathetic little cries.

“‘Tsumu….” you cried, you could feel your fifth orgasm coming up inside of you. You didn’t know how much longer you could do this. Your clit was almost numb with how abused it’d been. Your nipples and tits were sore, and while you couldn’t see it, you knew that your whole body would be covered in bruises and marks tomorrow.

“ Please….hurts… ”

“Come on Princess….” he murmured as his fingers came down against your clit, “ just one more…”

You just whined in response, your hips jerking slowly against his pace. Your body was almost finished, but you knew that you had to give him just one more...one more and he’d finally let you rest.

“.... ..gonna….. gonna …” you panted.

Atsumu grinned down at you, your body was wrecked, your head was lolled to the side with your tongue hanging out as he fucked you hard enough for your tits and stomach to bounce with each thrust.

God, you looked so perfect for him. The way that your curves pressed against his body, the way that your pussy squelched with each thrust due to all of his cum that he’d dumped inside of you, all of it- all of you, was perfect… you were fucking built just for him.

“Me too baby…” he moaned, tossing his head back as he felt his third and probably finally orgasm approaching.

His fingers started playing with your puffy clit even faster making you choke on your tears, a new feeling entirely rising up.

You’d never felt this before, a look of horror suddenly came over your face as you began to feel like you were gonna piss.

“no… ’Tsumu!” you cried out, his pace not stopping at all as he began to feel your walls growing stiff.

He’d read about this before on the internet, seen it in porn, but never did he think that he’d actually be blessed enough to witness it.

“Fuck…” he moaned, his voice breaking as he sped up against your pussy.

“No… ” you gripped his forearms in fear, if you accidentally pissed on your boyfriend, you’d be left with no choice but to break up with him out of pure humiliation.

“ Please stop ‘Tsumu…’m gonna make a mess .”

He groaned at the fat tears rolling down your face. He knew what you were thinking, you’d probably never squirted for anyone before, you were probably surprised and scared. He knew he should reaffirm you, tell you it was okay. But he couldn't help but love the panic mixed with pleasure on your face as you begged him to stop.

“Come on Princess.” he panted, “ come on ….”

His hips were snapping into your at an inhuman speed now, each time his cock head bumped up against your g-spot.

“ You can do it Princess …” he promised, his fingers urging you to let you.

You shook your head, the tears of embarrassment running down your chin as you desperately tried to keep it in. You cried out, you could feel yourself starting to slip.

“ No- Fuck! ‘Tsumu!” you screamed, your body starting to convulse as liquid gushed out of your pussy, soaking Atsumu’s cock as he cummed into you, his eyes almost going crossed as you squirted all over his hips, the clear liquid running down his balls and dripping onto the bathroom floor.

“Fuck….yeah… squirt for me Babe. .” he groaned, riding out his high as you cried and gasped out his name.

He finally slowed his hips, your body completely limp with humiliation beneath him.

“Such a good girl….” he soothed, pushing the sweat-soaked hair out of your face as you continued to bawl.

“ ‘M sorry ‘Tsumu… ” you sobbed, still thinking you pissed all over your boyfriend’s cock.

“Don’t be sorry Princess, you did so good…you squirted so good for me Baby..you made such a good mess for me.”

For some reason, at Atsumu’s soft words, you began to cry even harder. Even as he assured you that you didn’t piss on him, you couldn’t help the tears of exhaustion that kept spilling over your cheeks.

“Are you okay baby?” he asked, guilt eating at his stomach as your crying didn’t cease.

Did he go too hard? Was it too much? Fuck! He couldn’t lose you, what if you didn’t like it? What if you left him?”

“F-felt so good ‘Tsumu….” you cried, finally returning his embrace as you wiped your tears against his defined chest, your soft body squishing against his athletic one as the hand rubbing your back stilled.

“Why are you crying then baby?” he asked gently, his fingers hooking under your chin as you sniffled.

“I dunno…” you whimpered, your eyes glossily staring back up at your boyfriend. Your body was completely blissed out, you could nothing but cry.

“Ok Baby… let’s get you cleaned up,” Atsumu whispered, gently lifting you off of the counter and guiding you to the shower so he could clean you up.

As he washed your plush body, he couldn’t help but admire his work. Every part of you looked absolutely fucked out and he quickly decided that he would die for you as you yawned, leaning yourself against him.

He kept whispering to you about how good you felt, how good you were for him, how he didn’t deserve you. Your body glowed with the soft compliments, a complete opposite of how he’d acted as he fucked you past over-stimulation.

After he finished washing you, he kissed you deeply, his strong arms wrapping around your body.

“Can you walk Baby?” he asked, softly wrapping a fluffy towel around your naked body.

You shook your head, sticking your bottom lip out in a pout.

“That’s okay..” he chuckled, his thumb running over your cheeks as he stared at you lovingly. “I’ll carry you wherever you want to go okay?”

You nodded, willing yourself not to start crying again at his soft words. You wrapped your arms around his neck, jumping a little to help him hoist you as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He walked you into the room, resting you in the bed and pulling the comforter up around you before snuggling into the other side, his body automatically coming up to spoon yours.

“I love you, Princess,” he whispered adoringly, his fingers brushing against your bruised skin.

“Mmmm…love you too..” you hummed, your body so exhausted that you quickly started snoring, making Atsumu grin.

He thought about how lucky he was to have you. He could safely say that he was completely satisfied with how loud you’d been for him, with how nicely you’d let him claim you.

*************

“Fuck…” Bokuto whispered, his back was still pressed against the shower wall. His hand was still wrapped around his softening cock as he stared at the cum washing down the drain.

All he’d wanted to do was grab a quick shower. He never expected what had happened.

His eyes closed as he willed himself not to get hard again as he recalled how your moans sounded through the wall as you cried for Atsumu’s cock.

He felt ashamed for the reaction he’d had to it. Felt ashamed of how hard his cock had gotten. Most of all, he was ashamed that he’d stood there and fucked his fist to the sound of you screaming for your boyfriend.

He sighed, getting out of the shower and toweling off, trying desperately to push the memories of those noises out of his head.

Suddenly his phone buzzed.

‘Hope you liked the show ;)’ - Miya Atsumu

He scowled down at his phone before throwing it back onto the floor. He flopped down into his bed.

He could still hear your voice,

‘Fuck ‘Tsumu! M cumming!.....fuuucckk….’

Yep. He was going to be hard for the next year.

How was he ever going to look you in the face again?

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

*Cackling* Now rank your ot3's!

*long sigh*

SECTION 1:

Yes, there are sections, this is a list of 20 things. I like to be organized. These ones I seek out. I like them. I actively enjoy them on purpose.

1. Roloceit: My BOYS. Are these my 3 favorites? perhaps. You can't prove anything (you sure can, just look at my goddamn Ao3). Something about the dynamics here is just...so good for me? The combination of fluff/angst/multi-talented braincells is wonderful. I need these three to watch a documentary and tear it to absolute pieces. Also they would be so good at...actually having methods of supporting each other??? I love them.

2. Analogince: in the same vein, the SNARK. THE SASS. THE GROUPCHAT THAT WE ALL KNOW EXISTS THAT IS SOO OVERLOADED WITH SALT THAT IT'S A DEHYDRATION RISK. Also healthy communication??? supportive signifs??? good shit

3. Anxcietmus: The Dark Sides™. Again, I think these three just get each other. That means great fluff and great angst possibilities ABOUND and especially when it comes to being a menace in the rest of the mindscape. Yes. Good. Have fun.

4. Intruloceit: Someone please make this nerd take a fucking break for once. The chaos of leading what you THINK is a stuck-up buttoned-up nerd only to feel such an odd mixture of pride and mortal terror at discovering a TRUE mad scientist. Yes. Logan deserves to go ape-shit. Let him.

5. Analoceit: Did someone ask for some amused gay judgement? You got the whole scale here, Distinguished, Functional, and Disaster. They don't need the group chat because they can do it with just a look. Perfect. Wonderful.

6. Intruloxiety: slightly less snark, which is why it's ranked lower, but I don't think it would be any less supportive. Between the three of them I think they'd have a conversation about boundaries right up front and constantly be checking in with each other. Which is good!! Please do this!!

7. Loroyality (am i making up some of these names as I go? yes): The Light Sides™! The reason this is ranked lower is because I think they've got some in-canon struggles that would take some time and effort (from errybody) to sort out before I would consider this relationship healthy, but after that? Forget it. We vomiting sushine and rainbows and our teeth hurt from how sweet they are. I have faith in them.

8. Royaliceit: *sniff sniff* did someone say ANGST??? This is the only one I put up here that I mainly look for to get angst because BOY HOWDY. Especially post-POF? Roman you poor thing why do I project so strongly onto you, my god. This is a MESS and they need to do WORK to FIX IT but it's all about the misunderstanding and the healing and oh my god please someone tell Roman his worth is not based on how well his work is received please. Also if you're like me and you subscribe to the headcanon that the last time Patton and Janus agreed on something it was to stay in the closet as long as possible...*choo choo bitches angst town here we come*

SECTION 2:

These ones I don't actively seek out but you know?? For a headcanon post? They seem pretty chill. Haven't devoted a lot of brainpower to 'em, just think they're neat.

9. Moloceit (my keyboard is so confused you guys): Now THIS. THIS is the obnoxious trio of philosophy majors that ALWAYS hog the good library table. Someone will say ONE GODDAMN thing and they'll be talking about ontology and subjectivity for hours. It's impossible to tell whether or not they're being serious when they do it. As a most-definitely-not-a-philosophy-student, no. I mean, yes but no.

10. Anaroceit: you know those fucking divas that strut into the mall like they own the goddamn place? These bastards. They are the Heathers (except actually decent people) and you will not get between them and their purchases. If you come after one of them the other will overprotective the fuck out of them and rip you to shreds. You might be worried sometimes that they're hurting each other but they do actually talk about their boundaries. solid 7/10.

11. Analogicality: (whoa, we're halfway there...): These three just seem like they'd be super domestic. Not that it wouldn't also be adorable, but just kinda...routine? Virgil doesn't like new shit, Logan likes a schedule, and Patton enjoys doing things together in 'traditions.' Some spice but they're all fairly level-headed so...the most they get is screaming out songs with the windows down (WHOA LIVIN' ON A PRAYER)

12: Intrulogicality: You know those scenarios where you got Person A who runs headlong into crazy bullshit, Person B who likes to pretend they're not as into the crazy bullshit as Person A but is, and Person C who gets dragged into shit? There you go.

13: Anxmoceit: I think once they all sat down and had a conversation they might actually be decent??? But I can't stop seeing Patton and Janus coparenting Virgil so it stays platonic in my head. (listen i don't kinkshame but i am aroace, that does limit me a bit when it comes to this bag of nonsense)

14. Intrumoceit: Again, LONG conversation, but it's better to have one crazy dumbass whom you both love but please stop giving up heart attacks every two seconds bb we can't deal with these palpitations. I think this would require SO much work on Patton's end to make this healthy that I can't see it very clearly.

15. Intrumoxiety: This one I put down here because while Janus isn't the best at being straightforward (or straight) he DOES understand himself enough to actually have a productive conversation when he has to. I think Virgil would be too caught up between the dynamic of Patton and Remus for it to be healthy for him, especially at the beginning. It would end up dumping too much of the conflict resolution into his court and uh...no. No thanks. Do I think they COULD make it work? Yes, of course, but I wouldn't seek it out.

16. Anaroyality: Uhhh yeah they exist. Y'all gotta do some work to establish good boundaries but yeah, I think you could do it. Have a makeup day where everybody just fucks shit UP at a Sephora or an Ulta and try crazy looks on each other. You could do it. I believe in you.

SECTION 3:

These are the ones I will actively avoid, more often than not. If they're not handled carefully--which is not the responsibility of other creators, I take full blame, this is just how I personally interpret them--they can squick me out. The ones with Roman and Remus are down here, and as a disclaimer, this isn't because I view poly relationships where not all parties are dating each other as inherently inferior, not at all. I just think that within a relationship where both Roman and Remus are dating the same person, that has the potential to go REAL bad REAL quick.

17. Intrulogince: Do I want to see Roman and Remus playfully competing to win the favor of our favorite nerd? yes. Do I think it would end up aggravating the rivalry they already had to really bad places? Also yes. Either with Roman backing off and internalizing the idea that he's not good enough or by exploding on both of them. It's a bad time. No. That being said, I have seen things where Logan is just spoiled by incredible things made in the Imagination and those are very sweet. a good time.

18. Intruprinxiety (that looks so weird when it's spelled out, oh my god it sounded so much better in my head): Again, exacerbating a pre-existing rivalry, oh dear me, and this time poor Virgil's caught in the middle? a mess. There is also the potential for them to be childhood friends to lovers which would be very sweet but the overlap with all of their combined histories are...a lot of baggage. Like so much.

19. Intruroceit: The only way I can see this happening is Roman's inadequacy issues and abandonment issues going THROUGH THE FUCKING ROOF and it would force Remus into being a pseudo-therapist for them and Janus your habit of messing with Roman needs to gtfo right the fuck now.

20. Intruroyality: is anyone surprised that this one is my least favorite? Between the squicks I get from Patton as a character, the relationship between Patton and both of the twins in canon, and how much baggage Roman and Remus have...no. Absolutely not. I have horrible memories of some very toxic relationships that I can absolutely see here and no.

*phew* that was a long one. you're welcome.

EDIT: thank you @shinekittenace for names seriously this post is a mess

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

11. The Lovecats a.k.a an irresistible offer, a guy in proper clothes and a dangerous ginger

In the previous chapters: Effie gives a few pictures taken by her to Krisha who promises to show them to Kelly Curtis but Effie rushes away in the middle of the conversation to avert a date crisis between Judy and Jeff . After Mike’s awkward one-night-stand and the embarrassing intermezzo between Judy and Stone in the shower (that might have been seen by someone else too), the bunch is gathering at breakfast time in a bistro near the motel. Their exchange gets interrupted by Eric who has bad news for them.

 „Guys, we have a problem.”

Ugh… if I was a road manager and the band I’m managing had a show tonight and the lead singer had lost his voice due to his uncontrolled yelling, maybe I’d call it a problem. But I’m a lead singer of a band that is supposed to play a show tonight who lost his voice due to his uncontrolled yelling so I just call it an as fucked-up dumpster fire as possible.

I can barely understand the reactions since everyone in the bunch is desperately shouting at us.

“Has Karrie disappeared?”

“Did Suns defeat Sonics? I knew it!”

“Is the Twelfth Amendment coming into effect again?”

“We’re out of weed?”

Yeah, preferences.

“Hey, everyone, calm the fuck down!” Eric tries to talk them down. “It’s about the show tonight. We… we probably have to cancel it.”

“What? Why? No way!” the cacophony goes on and it only stops when Eric shuts them up with a loud whistle using his fingers.

“Should I explain calm or fuck or down?” he asks annoyed. “The thing is… Ed has lost his voice. He’s not even able to speak.”

“But… how?” Stone stares at us with clueless face. Such a smart guy and such a stupid question.

“He obviously forgot it in a public restroom and by the time he went back, it was already gone. Jesus.” Judy rolls her eyes playing with her fork. Thanks Judy, that’s what I was thinking about, now that you’ve translated it into Sarcasm, Stone might understand too.

“Actually, he accidentally flushed it down the toilet. In case you need to know the exact details to process it, Stoney.” Beth supports her with an audacious grin.

“No problem, we send Jeff down in the canal, I’m sure he’ll find it.”

“I’m able to deal with any shit except yours, Stone.” Jeff retorts, getting a snort from Judy as a reward.

“If I was you, I wouldn’t be so proud of that…”

“Seriously, what happened?” Mike cuts the forming exchange off.

“He was complaining about having a sore throat already yesterday evening too… he was working on a few lyrics but he felt tired and fell asleep relatively early and by this morning… nothing, he can only whisper, I’m afraid…”

“NO!!!” Judy interrupts her and blushes in a second since suddenly, all eyes are fixed on her. “I mean he mustn’t whisper, that’s the worst he can do.”

He? Hey, I lost my voice, not my hearing or my mind.

“It kills vocal cords, which can even lead to neck pains, I’m speaking from experience.”

“Really?” Eric frowns in disbelief.

“He has probably laryngitis. I mean, I’m not sure, he should see an otorhinolaryngologist for an exact diagnose but it’s very likely. It’s mostly viral or bacterial but extreme overburdening doesn’t help either… and extreme overburdening is a pretty euphemistic description for what you’re doing every night, sorry Ed but someone has to finally say it.” she addresses me but my only answer is a helpless shrug. I’m sure I do something wrong but I was procrastinating to face my limits until now and… here’s the result.

“And now she’s already a doctor too. And she completed the medical program in one single night, remarkable.”

“Shut up Stone.” Eric interjects not taking his eyes off of Judy.

“And how long is the regeneration period?” Beth asks, digging her face into my shoulder, which makes me reach for her neck instinctively. She rubs her cheek against my back like a lazy cat as she’s enjoying the improvised massage.

“Well, he shouldn’t speak for a few days but singing is another case, maybe one month…” My hand stops.

“What?” Beth screams right into my ear as her head perks up. Okay, so much for my hearing.

“It depends but usually after a laryngitis, you win back your singing voice note by note, beginning from the nether region.”

“Whoa, Camden, you’re getting naughtier and naughtier…”

“Spirits sometimes help…”

“That’s what I’m telling you all the time!” Mike hits the table with his fist.

“… but it’s only symptomatic treatment, if it’s bacterial, antibiotics are the ultimate solution. And… although I definitely do not support anything that kills throat but I know that singers often get a Calcium shot if they have to perform when having voice problems. So... that would maybe help shorten the silence phase.” Judy explains unwillingly.

“So… let’s summarize what you’re suggesting: we bring Ed to an expert, convince the doctor to give him a Calcium shot and swear he won’t sing for a month… and we cancel the show tonight… and then... we’ll see?” Eric looks at Judy for reassurance.

“Kind of… but I have serious doubts if he can let any note out this week. But are you sure the show must be canceled? I mean, what if someone else sang? Stone? You like singing, don’t you?”

Judy, you have a huge luck that I’m not able to ask publicly why you know about that.

“Jesus, no, I’m not a singer.”

“Aren’t you?” she provokes him raising one eyebrow.

“Nah. Plus, I can’t sing while I’m playing the guitar, I’ve already tried it but every time I try sing, I fuck the riffs up.”

“And he cusses every time he talks. He’d be lynched by the crowd in like ten seconds.” Jeff adds. “Anyway, I’m the other one who sings the backup vocals, maybe I…”

“NO WAY!” everybody protests in unison.

“Okay, okay, it was just an idea…”

“A very bad idea. We would end up playing odes about Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, geez…”

Actually, why would it be that bad? He’s like a childhood hero to me. Plus, Stone wouldn’t be a better choice either, our crowd isn’t prepared for a rock cover of The Lumberjack Song.

“No, we have no other choice.”

“Maybe…”

“I SAID NO WHISPERING!” Judy nips my attempt to join the conversation in the bud. I reach in the chest pocket of my shirt because I think this is the right moment to use my latest invention. Beth immediately gets it and jumps in the middle.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, I’m Beth Liebling, your favorite hostess and when I say favorite, I mean it.” she emphasizes the ongoing pun about the meaning of her last name with exaggerated winks. “Many of us have certainly experienced sore throat when swallowing or coughing is extremely painful and speaking seems to be impossible. The lack of communication makes us feel isolated and if we’re surrounded with sarcastic people, unsolved conflicts may result in anger issues.”

“I’m not angry at all, everything’s fine.” Stone smirks.

“But as always, we offer you a solution to tackle these difficulties and to present this incredible product, I ask my handsome partner, Edward for some help.” she pulls me next to herself by the sleeve of my shirt. I put on my dumbest smile and wait for the cue.

“Interaction cards!” she announces with pretended enthusiasm and glances at me. I lift the deck in my hand to eye level and show it around, still with the tooth-flashing fake smile.

“They make possible to maintain basic communication with the simplest messages.”

I present the first two cards with the words “yes” and “no”.

“Give me the “no”, I’ll buy it.” Stone grabs for it. I should have known.

“They also make us capable of expressing our current feelings.”

I spread out the next cards saying “shit”, “damn”, “fuck” and “I love you”.

“Aww. Give me that one!” Mike reaches out for the latter.

“Some of them declare basic axioms…” I wave with the “Pete Townshend is god” card. “No one? No problem, we’ve still got great stuff for our customers: the combined interaction cards!”

I flip through the deck and pick the “Fuck you Bush/republicans/Nazis/racists/homophobic assholes!” card.

“That’s cute, so heartfelt!” Eric presses his hand against his chest and takes it from me with the other one. I keep searching and giggle in advance when I finally pick the “Fuck you Stone!” card.

“Mine!” Judy and Jeff both almost fall out of the booth and then exchange a grin. Although Jeff was the faster, he places the card onto his palm and kneels down in front of her.

“In token of my appreciation, milady…” he offers it to the girl. To my biggest surprise, her first embarrassment evaporates quickly and she plays along.

“I’m always going to wear it over my heart.” she puts it into the chest pocket of her dungaree dress.

“How cheesy.” Stone comments dropping a piece of Emmentaler from his cheese plate into his mouth.

I nudge Beth to show her the card I made for her when she wasn’t looking. When she reads the “I love you, Beth” text on it, she slowly steps to me, laces her arms around my neck and pulls me into a relaxing, soft kiss. I capture her in a bear hug, letting her bury her head into my chest so that I can kiss the top of it and feel the familiar smell of the shampoo she’s used since I met her…

“Booo, the hostess is fucking the stage prop, disgusting…”

“Look, she’s licking the germs out of his mouth, ew…”

I try to ignore the childish remarks of Mike and Stone, luckily, Eric steers the conversation back to more professional questions.

“I guess I have to make a few phone calls, starting with the club, the guys who bought the ticket should receive refund… and I try to get a doctor for Ed, maybe we should try it in Charlotte, I don’t think we could find a specialist here…” he starts thinking loud, getting lost in the current, messy “to do” list he’s keeping in his pocket.

“„Sssooo… since the show has been canceled, I guess we have tons of time for the guitar lesson you asked for.” Jeff changes the topic with a huge grin, without the slightest intention of hiding his joy. And with the definite intention of using every occasion to spend more time alone with her.

“Guitar lesson? From Jeff?” Stone scoffs. “You know he didn’t become a bassist by chance, don’t you?”

“I must admit Stone’s right. There’s a particular reason for it… This bony asshole can’t hold a bass. We tried it, I swear but he ended up with his face in the concrete. If you take a closer look, you can notice that his Les Paul is only a cardboard replica too. He just pretends to play it, actually, it is Scully who plays his parts behind the amps.”

Judy bursts out in a heartfelt laughter, finally, Jeff has figured out that the way to her heart leads through well-played jokes. Possibly at Stone’s expense.

“I guess we could hang out together even tonight…” Jeff recommends with a cautious squint. That’s it, strike the iron while it’s hot…

“Tonight? But what about the show???”

“What show, Stone? We’ve just decided to cancel it…”

“But the supporting act is Tribe After Tribe! You love them, you’ve wanted to see them playing live since Tom Petty gave you their record! I definitely go and watch them!” Stone pouts like a child whose parents are about to call off the family visit to Disneyland.

“Shit… I mean, that’s true, they’re amazing… maybe you could come too…?”

“Nah, I don’t think so, I could finally sleep through the whole night… but we don’t have to do the soundcheck today, we could have the first lesson instead.”

“Hey Camden, you have a lot to learn, no one said you can skip today’s work!”

“I start with turning your volume down…” Judy retorts and turns immediately back to Jeff. “So, what do you say?”

“Sure… I mean, maybe you end up teaching me. But sooner or later, I have to figure out what I’m doing so…”

They both stand up, and as they are walking towards the exit, they keep talking, leaving the sour-faced Stone behind. I can only guess the reason of the change in her behavior… Jeff Ament, you’d better not mess up your chance.

***

„Granny, stop turning your head all the time! I can also hear you when you’re looking straight ahead. Otherwise I mess up your hair!”

“Effie darling, I’m an old woman, I don’t want to be pretty, I just want shorter hair so that I can comb it easier after hair wash.” she answers, of course she can’t help moving her head this time either.

“Granny! What did I just say? Okay, I accept that you don’t care about your look but I don’t lend my name to anything. Plus, if you keep squirming, I might even cut you. Or myself. Geez, I don’t know what happened to your hair after it had turned grey, it’s like barbed wire, maybe I should try it with a machete…” I mutter as I try to straighten her strands with a comb before I start cutting.

“I’ve told you, you can do anything with it, my body is a rusty, old machine, I can’t lean forward in the bath tub or brush it for hours. You could even shave it, I don’t care.”

“Do you really want to enjoy the Seattle rain on your bald scalp? I doubt it. Did you know that dripping ice cold water on the shaved head of prisoners was a popular way of torment in the Middle Ages? And I don’t think Mr. Taylor would like it either.” I refer to her old neighbor with a sly smile.

“Come on, Effie. Peter and I are both basically fossils.” she waves with an embarrassed, short laughter. We’ve been teasing her with him for years but she always reacts with denial, she belongs to the generation of which members think attraction over a certain age is something inappropriate. Or can’t even exist. And if it still does, it’s better to pretend it doesn’t.

“Single fossils!” I point out.

“I know it’s a very fashionable word nowadays but we are both widows, my dear. That’s completely different.” she insists playing with her wedding ring that embraces her ring finger still perfectly. I could stare at her hands for hours, her elegant fingers with strong, even, oval nails, whereas the backs of her hands and her palms are soft and always warm, Mom is convinced that’s the reason why she can prepare the most delicious homemade pastries in the world. The thin, fine, spiderweb-like wrinkles on them are telling the story of a complicated life, every single day adds a newer chapter to it…

“That doesn’t mean you have to live like a recluse, I don’t know why you’re fighting even against the idea.”

“We’ve just put dear Clara in the grave and…”

“Granny, Mrs. Taylor died like… eight years ago???” I whine clipping together a few strands of her.

“To me, it feels like it had happened yesterday.”

“Because with aging, the perception of time is changing completely. It’s scientifically proven. Mr. Taylor is handsome and kind and however much you try to ignore it, he likes you.”

“Sweetie, the head of girls in your age is full of romantic imaginations but…”

“Don’t even try to project it back on me! He trims the hedge in your front yard and peeps from behind the curtain all the time, just to show up by chance whenever you step out of the house! He basically tears the shopping bags out of your hands every time you arrive home from the grocery store!” I confront her with the facts and begin to trim her hair in the meantime.

“Because he’s a gentleman! Our generation was taught how to be polite!” she explains intensely making me grab her head with both hands and turn it back in the right direction.

“Are you trying to say my generation is rude? Anyway, Mr. Taylor is a retired TV mechanic! He could repair that piece of shit old box you’re not willing to replace whenever it gets fucked up.” I play my ultimate argument knowing she has a soft spot for her favorite series. She was mourning after the last episode of Dallas for weeks.

“Effie, you know I don’t like dirty words! Please!”

“Sorry. He could repair that useless device you’re not willing to replace every time it gets fucked up.” I giggle.

“Effie!”

“Granny, just think into it: you shouldn’t make us record the missed episodes and come over if you want to watch them… you don’t like video cassettes anyway and you said you could never learn how to work a video player…” I purr into her ears trying to sound hypnotical.

“It’s rather you who should have a suitor! You’re such a pretty, young, smart girl, I can’t believe you don’t have a boyfriend.”

Oh no. She turned the tables on me. Clever.

“First of all, being single is not a shame, I won’t expire if I don’t get married before I turn 25. I’m just… not interested in anyone right now.”

And by the way, if you’re not studying, not working, and your so-called friends have forgotten about your existence for the reasons above and gave up inviting you at parties and social events, you don’t even have any possible love interest around. Not that I blame them, my high school classmates are scattered everywhere in the country and after I suspended my studies, I kind of slowly drifted away from the college buddies. We hung out a few times after it but I lost track of everything, I understood fewer and fewer inside jokes, I’m not allowed to drink alcohol, which was obviously no fun to them… damn, I can’t even get rid of my waste products without outside help. So at this point, it’s not that easy to meet guys at all. Let alone normal guys who aren’t slackers, heroin addicts and don’t have commitment issues. I mean, bad guys seem to be exciting until you have one. And I’ve had a few one, I always buy their stupid shit and I’m sick of them. Victor is my only friend who still cares and lets me know about must-see shows at RCKNDY but he’s a friend, we’ve never thought about each other with any hint of romantic feelings at that’s okay. To be honest, I don’t even want to be in a relationship only for the sake of it but I miss that little tingle in the chest and the stomach, at least a teeny-tiny, innocent crush wouldn’t hurt…

“I’m sure you have admirers, just no one meets your expectations, maybe you set the bar too high… Ouch!” she lets out a short scream since I manage to pull her hair involuntarily. The “picky girl” card again… this time, I’m not willing to begin a debate with her about that, I’ve done that several times and she just waved me off every single time.

“I think we should rather discuss Judy’s love life, it’s her who‘s surrounded by handsome boys right now.” I change the subject of the conversation, I know I’m mean and if Judy was here, she’d certainly kill me… but she’s not and the end justifies the means.

“I still can’t imagine her in the company of those men.”

Those men. Granny refuses to call the band members anything else. Okay, on sunny days, she refers to them as “those young men”… but Seattle isn’t famous for the frequency of sunny days, as we know.

“They are nice guys, she likes them. And as far as I know, they like her too…” I rather resist the urge to mention Stone’s aversion to her. “Moreover, I heard through the grapevine that one of them liked her more than the others…”

“A suitor? Sweetie, please bring my bag here, now that you’re mentioning that, I want to ask you something.”

I obey, and walk to the armchair to grab it. Like it was so easy.

“Jesus, Granny, are you keeping bricks in your handbag??? It’s a lethal weapon, if you beat someone in the head with it, you can be put in jail…” I shake my head as I put it on her lap.

“Come on, it’s not that heavy. There are a few things in it a woman can need anytime… “ she starts rummaging in the bag and as I peak into it, I can spot a Swiss Army penknife and a small bottle of tear gas spray. I rather don't ask anything. “I know you’ve shown me pictures of those men, magazine articles, posters but you know I forget everything… So I bought something up-to-date so that you can tell me what I have to know about them, especially if it concerns my granddaughter…” she pulls something colorful out of the mess.

“Steel Hammer magazine? Haha, I can’t believe it! You just went to a kiosk and asked for the latest issue of a metal magazine???” I laugh walking back behind her to pick up the threads again.

“Well… I couldn’t remember the band’s name, I just told to the salesman that my grandchild was working with one of the famous rock bands from our town and I wanted to learn more about them. He just laughed and told me this issue was full of Seattle rock bands and I could certainly find in it what I was looking for.” she flips through the pages. “So tell me again the names of those men, please.” she lifts the magazine and I giggle as I look over her head at it.

“Oh, that’s Alice in Chains, they are also popular but… I don’t think you would approve if Judy worked for them.”

“Why? They do drugs, right? I don’t even want to hear more about that.” Thank God. I don’t think I could tell her much about them without causing her a heart attack. “But they must be them!” she puts a picture in front my nose again.

“You’re getting warmer… but… still not hot. That’s Soundgarden, they are good friends with the guys, they’re even meeting them in a few weeks in Texas, I guess they’re playing a couple of shows together. But they are nice guys too, you don’t have to worry. No drugs, no sex. I mean no sex with strangers. Or other bands’ crew members.” I add before she’d make me run background checks and look into their police records.

“And these men?”

“Whoohoo, you’re hot! That’s them, Pearl Jam!”

“They have nice hair! Actually, all these musicians do. And their eyes are clear, I like that. They seem to be honest young men.” Young men. Maybe if I tell enough nice things about them, she’ll even call them “boys”, or even “guys”. ”Who is who?”

“Eddie, Jeff, Stone, Dave and Mike.” I list pointing at each name on its owner.

“And which of them is courting our Judy?” she inquires excitedly.

“I wouldn’t call it courting yet, all I know he’s already asked her out once but I’m still investigating the details, you know how secretive she can be. Anyway, it’s the bassist, Jeff. The second one from left.” I glance over her head again while I collect another strand with the comb and straighten it to see its length.

“He’s very athletic, he looks healthy, that’s good. A strong man. But those earrings and bracelets… does he always wear them?”

I can hear the frown in her voice.

“I guess so. But that doesn’t make him a bad person, body piercings are very fashionable nowadays. Anyway, he’s a Montanan guy, he’s also an artist, he paints I guess. And you see right, he’s a talented athlete, he plays basketball too and he’s an avid skateboarder. It’s not dangerous!” I add quickly since I’m not sure if skateboarding is old enough to be on Granny’s list of approved spare times activities

“His clothing style is weird, though. His chest is almost bare, he couldn’t be cold but then why was he wearing that hat?”

“Hehe, no one knows, he’s just into hats, that’s his trademark.” I shrug.

“I can’t believe Judy likes him. But that serious one with those sad eyes might be her type.”

“Who?” I wrinkle my forehead since I can’t really pair the description with any of them.

“Him. He dresses normally, that’s a nice shirt, no earrings or other weird jewelry. Does he have a tattoo?”

I glance back at the magazine only to see she’s pointing at Stone.

“Hahaha, oh my gosh, no, as far as I know he doesn’t, but if you ask me, he could even be as spotted as a panther, Judy can’t stand him.”

“But he seems to be a nice boy…”

BOY??? Stone?

“Okay, I admit, he looks good and the crew likes him and he’s super talented but he’s an asshole to Judy.”

“Effie!”

“He is! At first he ignored her and then he started acting like a douchebag and…”

“Effie, dear, you know how boys behave in school… they sometimes literally torture the girl they like… maybe he is just immature.”

“No, Granny, this is…”

Luckily, the stupid debate gets interrupted by the ringing of the phone and I jog to pick it up, maybe it’s Judy…

“Hello, Camdens…”

“Hey, Krisha’s here.”

“Oh… hi…”

“So you haven’t been abducted by aliens. You basically ran away from the office last time without any explanation and I’ve been waiting for your call since then… are you okay?”

“I am… I just… didn’t want to seem too desperate or impatient… I mean, managers are busy people, I thought it’d take some time until Kelly gets to watch my pictures…”

To be honest, I was convinced they’d ditch me with some polite lie like “Nice photos but we are looking for something else” or “We are going to call you later”… so I was just procrastinating facing the truth.

“I tied him to his chair and didn’t set him free, I have my methods… which means, I’ve got news for you.” she announces secretively.

“Effie, sweetie… my hair is still wet, would you give me a towel?”

“Just a second, Granny! Look, I’m busy now but could we meet later somewhere in the city?”

“You mean today?”

“Yes… ah, shit, I have an appointment at the hairdresser’s, but maybe after it…”

“I’m flexible, just tell me the place and the date…”

“Okay, it’s…”

***

When I pull down at the address she gave me on the phone, she’s already waiting for me in front of the building. As I lean over the passenger seat to open the door for her, my eyes are involuntarily drawn to the window decorated with kitschy hearts behind her.

“Love Is In The Hair? Seriously???” I frown. “I’d never let my hair be touched by anyone who’s able to make up such a terrible pun.”

“Oh, don’t be influenced by that, the owner is a hopeless, sentimental old woman but the girls working there are real pros!” she shakes her head as she gets in and buckles herself up. “Meg’s got golden hands, she’s the only one who can keep this haystack under control.” she points at her good smelling, fluffy, blonde strands. “I mean, several people have attempted but she’s the only one who’s succeeded without turning me into Dolly Parton.”

“Well, that’s definitely wouldn’t be a fortunate outcome.” I crack up. “But you got a nice perm, truly.”

“Oh, that’s my hair in its natural state. I had only a haircut, that’s all.”

“I can’t believe that! Aw, I’m so envious, I mean look at this mouse tail…” I flick my thin ponytail with one hand, keeping the other one on the steering wheel. “Unfortunately, my hair can’t recover from what I did to it in the ‘80s…”

“Ouch, well, those were tough times... I’m sure Meg could recommend something… you should give her a try!”

“Maybe… I don’t know, somehow I have a strong aversion to beauty salons, that chicken yard vibe freaks me out.”

“Me too! But this place is not like that at all, that’s the other reason why I became their regular client. Meg studied psychology, she always feels without asking if I want to talk or just listen to her or I just want both of us to… you know, just shut up. She usually has good advice for every situation but not in a pushy way… she rather makes you realize what’s the right thing to do… or just points out if you’re about to make a terrible mistake without explicitly saying it.” she chuckles. “I don’t know, it’s like a sixth sense thing, she’s gifted.”

“So she’s a beauty wizard and a guru in one person.” I summarize.

“Haha, exactly. She’s simply a cool chick but for some reason, she has such a bad luck with guys, I don’t know the exact details, only that a problematic guitarist broke her heart.”

“Ha, that invasive species has kinda conquered this town…” I mutter knowingly.

“Speaking of that, do you know anything about Judy and Jeff? I ran away last time since I felt a disaster coming… she wasn’t even aware she’d been asked out… and since then, we’ve barely talked and she ignored the question when I came up with that…”

“Ugh, to be honest, I don’t know, I talked to Eric about work stuff, we’re busily preparing that free open-air show in May…” I stop since I’m not sure if I should go on. “Of course I talked to Stone as well…” I finally decide to do so but I pretend to be distracted by the traffic in the junction to have an excuse for not finishing the sentence.

“I bet he trashed my sister again, didn’t he?” she unfortunately jumps on the topic without hesitation.

“No… not really… I mean, he’s disapproving about anything romantic between them for sure but not because of Judy as a person… he just doesn’t think it’s a healthy thing right now. But he was obscure, I didn’t even understand what he was trying to say, he was babbling something about deflowering and cabal… he’s showing off his vocabulary all the time, even if it makes no sense. Especially when he’s high, maybe that was the case.”

“Deflowering? You mean my sister?” she scoffs and I can’t do anything but shrug since Stoney was truly vague, almost secretive. “The dude’s got obviously a screw loose.” she underlines the statement by circling with her index finger at the temple. “Anyway, why are you turning in that direction, aren’t we going to the management office?”

“I never claimed we’re going there.” I watch the road with a mysterious smile. “Actually, I realized after having called you that I had an errand to run so I thought you could accompany me…”

“By accompanying you mean kidnapping me and holding me hostage in your car?”

“Maybe. Open the glove compartment, I put there something for you.”

“Now you’re scaring me, is it a gun? Whoa.” she startles since after she obeys me, tons of tapes fall onto her lap.

“Ah, I get it. You’re holding me hostage and make me listen to shitty music, what are these? Tapes of Wham! tribute bands or what?” she asks checking the cases.

“Okay, you just gave me a great idea. The tapes weren’t intended for you, they are demos of bands monkeying PJ, we receive a buttload of them every week. Needless to say they all suck, could you do me a favor by listening to them for me? Kelly insists on me checking all of them, I don’t know why, though, we usually send them a polite refusal… but he thinks they deserve a chance. 99 % percent of them are indistinct yelling to worn-out riffs. What about my constitutional rights?”

“Haha, are you serious? I mean, I don’t really have any proper excuse, I have plenty of time and unfortunately, fucked-up kidneys don’t clog ears but…”

“Just kidding, I meant the folded sheets, maybe they are buried deep, just dig for them.”

“Okay, got it” she groans basically putting her head in the glovebox. “What’s that? Mr. Hugh Mility… Mr. Juan Badapple… Jim Rockford... Dr. Hugh Jeego… Guy Jantic… what the hell is this?”

“Well, since the guys are getting huge, fans are lurking at the hotels, they make up impossible lies to get their room numbers, a few of them even tried to bribe the receptionists… so it became obvious they should use codenames…”

“And who is who?”

“You missed the point, should I maybe explain the concept of codenames? What if you start stalking or harassing them?” I tease her and maybe I’m hallucinating but I’d swear I see an amused smile forming in the corner of her mouth. “Anyway, joke aside, they are pretty obvious, just think a little.”

“Wait, the list goes on… these must be the crew members… Elle Koholic, okay, this must be Carrie. Oh my god, I found my sister’s one.” she slaps herself in the forehead.

“Yeah, no offense but she’s got a one-track mind… anyway, we’ve arrived.” I announce steering the car right to the empty site next to the building.

“Are you willing to finally reveal where we are?” she asks stuffing the tapes back into their place.

“Curiosity killed the cat. Okay, I hope not, Stone would kill me.” I laugh at my own joke, fishing out the shopping bag from the backseat. “Come.”

“I don’t understand a word.” she pouts indignantly while we’re entering the building and climbing the stairs in the semi-darkness.

“I enlighten you very soon, I promise, just follow me.” I turn back to her and we fell silent until we reach our destination. “Here.” I point theatrically at the door.

“What’s this? Are you gonna buy drugs here? Or is this sort of a den of gamblers? Or…”

“Jesus, I thought you’re the adventurous one…” I roll my eyes. “Anyway, you mentioned the species of problematic guitarists… where we’re standing is the cave of a specimen from one of the subspecies.”

“…which iiiis…”

“One of the most complex inhabitant of Earth’s fauna: the rhythm guitarist!” I raise my index finger. “It’s very widespread at bars and concert venues, the male ones are inseparable from their favorite delicacy that is beer. The male living here is famous for his trademark, sarcastic remarks that are not without jokes about nether regions. During his mating season – that includes every single day of the year –, he tries to catch the attention of female specimens with the excessive flipping of his magnificent mane and his repetitive, distinctive laughter. He often leaves the location of mating right after the act, his volatile nature…”

“Wait, are you trying to say…” she cuts me off, getting tired of my improvised presentation.

“Yess.”

“No shit!”

“Yes shit. We’re at Stone’s apartment. Okay, it actually belongs to his sister but she moved in with her boyfriend last year. And Stoney got a gentle reminder from his parents that he should finally leave the family nest.”

“Hey, then maybe me and Judy are super uncool since we live with our mom too…” she frowns offended.

“It’s all about the context, first of all: he turned down Chris Cornell when he asked him to be his roommate. I repeat, Chris Cornell.” I explain, as I begin to fumble with the keys.

“What a fool!”

“I mean, I kind of understand him to a point, his parents are the dearest people I know but turning down such an offer when you’re over 20? Time went by and I think his parents just got fed of him tearing the strings at their attic all the time and coming home in the middle of the night every single day. Even if they have always been totally supportive of him, they didn’t freak out even when he announced he didn’t want to go to college… he started working as an espresso guy in a small bakery at Pioneer Square, he was the worst, by the way, I mean I almost puked of the coffee he made… He quitted that job when Mother Love Bone got signed to PolyGram and… you know what happened later. So he kind of stuck at home, indebted.”

We enter the apartment in the meantime and I take a few steps in the living room to turn on the standard lamp.

“But then, not much before the tour started, his sister let him her place over, he’s a low-key guy so…” I shrug. “Now that they became basically rock stars, he’s planning to buy a small house… his dad is an attorney-at-law with acquaintances at real estate firms, that helps a lot.”

“We had to sold our house when… a few years ago.” she sighs. I don’t ask, I guess it has to do something with her father, Karrie mentioned he’d died a few years ago. “This is a pretty nice place, I thought it was messier. No piles of beer cans, no smell of rotten food…” she remarks walking around the living room.

“Despite your impressions, he’s not a caveman, he always jokes referring to himself as an emancipated guy meaning he can and is willing to do all kind of housework. He can be pretty oblivious, though, which sometimes affects the result…” I giggle and open the windows to let in some fresh air. “His brain works in a weird way, he loses everything, all the time and forgets where he put his personal belongings and therefore never finds them again… whereas he’s pretty good at remembering riffs and melodies.”

“So this place is like a black hole. Anyway, why are we here? Wait, are we going to pull pranks on him? Let’s stick pins in the armchairs, smear tooth paste on the door handles and hide dog poop under the doormat…” she suggests with stars in her eyes. Okay, I have to do something against this hatred campaign before these wicked women cast a lethal spell on him.

“As I mentioned, I have a mission. First of all, I have to keep those poor things alive…” I point in the corner.

“Wow, a private jungle!” she exclaims surprised. “Philodendron, ficus and mother-in-law’s tongue! If someone had told me Stone liked indoor plants, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“Actually, he sometimes forgets about their existence too. But they are real survivors, they even made it despite his girlfriend’s interesting watering methods… by the way, he even gave them names: Phil Collins, Biggus Diccus and Robert Plant, I guess I don’t have to explain…” I go on with the guided tour while I go in the kitchen to fill the coffee jug with water.

“At least the guy has a good taste in music.” she shouts. She must have found his record collection and the stereo system, I guess if something, this can soften Effie up.

“Yes, he’s surprisingly omnivorous as for musical genres…” I call back although my voice sounds muffled, since I had to basically crawl into the cupboard at the bottom for the bag of the pet food. “He’s pretty much influenced by everything he hears on the radio. Ouch!!!” I manage to bang my head when I straighten up too early.

“Are you okay?”

“I am… just a household accident…”

I walk back to the bedroom with the small bowl full of dry food only to find her staring amazed at the large star chart on the wall.

“Wow. My sister would love this.” she keeps examining it with dropped jaw, only her lips are moving.

“Well, I’ve always known they have much more in common than they think.” I grin.

“Judy had a pretty long phase when she wanted to be an astronomer… I mean, basically her in her whole childhood. She later found out physics and science weren’t really her thing but she’s still obsessed with space exploration and science fictions…”

“As you can see, Stone isn’t that beer-drinking, douchebag barfly type…” I spread my arms to point out that the walls are almost covered with bookshelves.

“Yeah, as far as I can see, he’s pretty much an intellectual asshole.” she narrows her eyes.

“AND NOW… let’s jump to the second part of my mission.” I kneel down and lift the bedspread. “Your Majesty, your subjects are only waiting for you to begin the audience.” After a few seconds of silence, two reddish paws reach out from under the bed, soon followed by a pink nose. Their owner makes sure there’s nothing dangerous in the room in full alert mode, before she crawls out slowly and rubs her snout against my hand reached out.

“Oh my god! A cat! Was she here during the whole time?” Effie screams surprised, sits down cross legged and invites her to herself making smacking sounds. “Hey sweetie… you’re very shy, aren’t you? Come here…come…”

“Effie, let me introduce you Red. Red, this is Effie. Be cautious… she can behave quite wild, especially with women…”

Despite my fears, she slowly moves towards Effie and sniffs her fingertips. After a few seconds of tense hesitation, she lets herself be caressed with that typical vigilance of cats like she was sending the message “I’m here but if you make a wrong move, you die”.

“What a beautiful fur… and those green eyes…” the girl runs her finger along the red-white spotted back. “She seems to like me…” the girl chuckles.

“One more proof that Stone’s theory was right.”

“What kind of theory?”

“Well… he adopted her not much after the forming of the band… she was just a tiny, fluffy kitten but from the very first moment, she’s acted very weird with the girls around Stone. And I don’t mean girls in general, I’m talking about his female visitors, if you know what I mean… she’s been very hostile to girls he’s dated, she’s basically driven away all the chicks he’s got hooked up with… She’s literally jealous of his love interests.”

“Interesting, I’d rather think Stone is a dog person…”

“He is, his family has always had dogs… but with Red… it was love at first sight. I’ve never seen him being as affectionate to actual girls as to Red. Even his voice softens when he’s talking to or about her… so long story short, Stone was joking that they must have been lovers in a previous life and she had been some red-haired girl who’d stolen his heart.”

“And does she like girls who hate him because they mean no competition for her?” Effie wonders as she follows the cat with her eyes who’s now approaching her bowl and gets lost in the deliciously looking pieces of meat. “It’d be an interesting experiment to introduce her to Judy.”

“Definitely, she’s never met a real female enemy of him. Maybe because girls usually like him…” I shrug.

“And is this poor thing the whole day alone?”

“Ugh, it’s a complicated story. When the guys started touring, the Gossards adopted her. Again. But they have to get rid of her, because they all are allergic to cat fur, it wasn’t that disturbing when Stone was at home too and she basically lived in the attic with him and he was the only one really taking care of her… but when he was away and they had do it for him, they quickly had to look for someone else… and then, she got to Regan, our common old friend. They got on very well with each other but then Regan and his girlfriend adopted a dog and to say they weren’t compatible is an understatement. And then…” I took a big breath “…then came the Amber phase. I don’t know if I’ve already mentioned her, she’s his girlfriend.”

“Ouch.” she hisses. “That must have been tough.”

“It was. Due to the beforementioned circumstances, their relationship was everything but smooth… she never adopted her, she just came over to feed her and all but Red was trying very hard to make her life a living hell. She attacked her, scratched her arms, hooked her nails in her tights and ruined her nicest clothes…” I list and I can’t help smiling as I recall their clashes.

“I can’t believe this cutie pie did things like that. It sounds terrible but… hey, are you laughing???”

“It was a dis… a disaster…” I’m already choking of laughter since in the meantime, Red’s innocent face makes me remember the funniest part of the story. “Once she even… oh no, I can’t…” I try to calm down and put on straight face. “Once this little bitch…” Red turns her head towards me like she felt addressed “yes, I’m talking about you… so this little bastard peed in Amber’s heels.”

“Oh no! Cat pee is the worst, it’s a one-way ticket to the dumpster. I mean only if you don’t set everything that got in contact with it on fire.”

“Well, that happened to the heels in question too. But frankly, I don’t blame Red, I myself have played with the idea of doing the same a few times too.” I shrug and have Effie in stitches.

“So you hate her too…”

“I don’t, she’s not a bad person… but she can be so annoying, man… when you have to admire the umpteenth fashion photo of her posing in different clothes, it’s very difficult to seem to be interested.”

“Uhm… speaking of photos… you said you got news for me… I didn’t want to be too greedy, I mean I really like hanging out with you and I’m not doing it only because I want your help and…” she jabbers blushing.

“Hey, easy. The news are that Kelly loved your photos. And Susan Silver too. And they have a great idea…”

[mertronus]

Secret Mission

Chapter 2

Read it on AO3 or FFN

Oh! M for language.... This is Ron we're talking about.

----

Harry found Ron later that evening looking out over the makeshift pitch at the Burrow deep in thought.  Dinner was over and Ron knew that soon his siblings would begin to head to their homes.  Sundays at the Burrow were a treat, but Mondays meant back to lives and work.  Bill at Gringotts, Harry, Percy, Audrey, and Arthur at the Ministry, Fred and George at their famous joke shop, Katie to school (she was training to become a healer Ron learned earlier that afternoon) and Ginny and Angelina to practice with their team, the Holyhead Harpies.  Ron was chuffed to find out that while he was away, Ginny joined Angelina as starting chasers for the team.

For now, everyone was enjoying the last joyful moments of a relaxed Sunday evening.

As they stood together overlooking the pitch, Harry asked Ron more about the extended mission he was on.

"I can't tell you much yet, not until it's conclusion anyway, but I can say thus far it's been a success.  Almost all the suspects for the case have been caught, and no aurors on my team were too injured."

"You were injured at one point, right?"

"Yeah, but it was a minor injury.  I had to sit out a couple days...no biggie."

Harry nodded.  "Yes the report noted it was extremely minor so I didn't say anything to the family.  Didn't see the point in worrying them unnecessarily."

"Thanks for that."

"Were you leading?" Harry asked.  He always egged Ron on about his leadership skills.  Ron, however, still felt them mediocre at best.

"I was, yeah, for most of it.  Captain Ledwig had the final say for all decisions but he pretty much let me call the shots."

"That's amazing Ron."

"Yeah...I mean, we had help.  Amazing help."  A small wistful smile appeared on his lips and he looked away just enough so Harry wouldn't see it.

"Right," Harry said in a way that told the tall redhead that he wasn't fooled.  "So...staying with the team tonight huh?"

Arse, Ron thought to himself.  "Oh, erm..."

"Where are you really staying?"

Ron blew out his exhale and groaned.  "At the Leaky.  I have a room there for a bit."  Harry opened his mouth to say something but Ron cut him off.  "I just need some space, y'know?  To come back from a mission and stay here is just...I just...well, at least for now - a couple days maybe - "

"Ron," the dark-haired wizard said putting his hand on his shoulder.  "You don't have to explain.  I know."

Panic shot through Ron as he turned to him.  "Y-you know?"

"Yeah, of course you need space.  We see and deal with a lot out on these missions, and I don't even know half of what you dealt with wherever you were in France.  Take a few days and decompress, definitely."  Ron sighed in relief, thankful that his brilliant best mate could also be extremely daft.  "Just don't be a  stranger.  Your mum will want to see plenty of you.  Gin too."  Ron nodded, telling himself he would at the least come to the burrow each day for breakfast or dinner...and not just for the food.  "And feel free to pop by Grimmauld too.  You're always welcome.  You can still apparate right in, that hasn't changed.  And your room is always ready.  Sirius saw to that before he handed it over and I definitely didn't change it."  

A smile grew on Ron's face as he thought about Harry's godfather, who gifted his London home to Harry upon his engagement opting to live in a small flat of his own just a few blocks away.  He was always extremely generous to his best friend's son and once Harry and Ron met on the train to Hogwarts all those years ago, Sirius practically adopted Ron as his second godson much like Harry's parents adopted Ron and Ron's parents adopted Harry.  As Ron didn't officially have a godfather of his own - none of his siblings did to his knowledge - he developed his own special relationship with the eccentric and carefree older man.  He would absolutely have to get to London to see Sirius Black.

After a short silence, Ron finally spoke up.  "Harry?  What if I didn't come back?" he asked softly.

"What?"

"What if I didn't come back?  Or the mission took longer than we thought?  You and Ginny love each other.  Why wait for me?  It's been a year and a half since you proposed."

Harry shrugged.  "I just...I can't picture my wedding day without you there.  Gin feels the same.  We're happy to wait.  Pretty sure we would have had a longer engagement anyway.  But..I don't think we'll be waiting much longer."

"Oh?"  Ron raised an eyebrow turning to Harry.

"Your brothers and I slipped out of the kitchen as the witches we all love started on wedding talk.  From the looks of it, Molly is ready to pull a wedding together very, very soon, in case you get sent off again."  Harry ran his hand through his hair making it stick out on all ends.  "I think I'm getting married Ron.  Will you stand beside me?"

"I wouldn't stand anywhere else mate."

As Harry head down the hill leaving Ron after his promise to follow him in a minute, Ron watched with trepidation.

Guilt.  Complete and all consuming guilt.  "Shit," Ron cursed to himself.  "Bloody fucking fuck."  He rubbed the back of his neck.  "M'sorry Hermione," he said out loud.  "I'm so sorry.  I can't tell them today."  He took a deep breath then started the walk back to his family to bid them goodnight so he could apparate back to the Leaky...back to the bollocking he'd no doubt receive...from his new wife.

----

Hermione Granger-Weasley paced room 14 at the Leaky Cauldron, just on the boundaries of muggle London and Diagon Alley, which she learned was Wizarding London.  Ron should have been back by now.  

She knew that his return to his family would be an all day affair, and truth be told she was excited to explore Diagon Alley a bit on her own.  Being a muggleborn witch, she was not privy to England's wizarding community before her parents moved her to Paris, France shortly before she turned 11.  On her eleventh birthday, she received the news that she was a witch ("That explains so much!", her parents had both exclaimed.) and two letters - one inviting her to study at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and one to study at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.  Her desires to both stay close to her parents - her only family - and to become fluent in French drove her to accept the invitation to Beauxbatons.  She often wondered, however, how different her life would have been had she chosen Hogwarts, and was thrilled to finally get acquainted with London as a witch.

And so, she spent Sunday, her first day in years back in London, busying herself by exploring the shops of Diagon Alley, and was delighted to discover Flourish & Botts.  She spent a better part of the day perusing the wide array of books the store had to offer before finally heading back to the Leaky Cauldron with her purchases for a quiet dinner in the room.  

She expected Ron shortly after dinner, but now it was nearing half nine and he still had not returned.

As she sat up in bed with one of her newest purchases open in front of her, she found herself unable to focus on reading for once.  She closed the book softly and ran her small ink-stained fingers along the books cover.  When she stumbled upon "Hogwarts: A History" in Flourish & Botts, she knew she had to have it.  Having read "L'Histoire Complète de L'Académie de Magie Beauxbatons" (The Complete History of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic) several times during her attendance, she was happy to find a similar book about Hogwarts.  She would be able to learn all she could about the school she turned down...the school Ron attended and talked so much about.

When she told Ron that she was in the house Bellefuille at Beauxbaton and explained what that meant, he told her she very well may have been in Gryffindor with him and his best mate Harry.  "Either that or Ravenclaw," Ron had laughed that evening as they stole away to the back gardens of Le Chateau Cache, which had become their favorite spot to be alone.  "Given your obsession with reading everything under the sun you very well may have been."

Hermione and Ron would have been in the same year.  And if she was sorted into Gryffindor...

Would they have been friends? she wondered.  Unlikely.  I was such a bossy know-it-all as a child.  Ron is so laid-back.

It wasn't until she befriended Luc deBlanc and Isabelle L'Amet that she began to settle and relax.  I would have driven Ron mad if he knew the eleven year old me.  He would have called me a nightmare.

Hermione's thoughts drifted to the first time she met Ronald Weasley, just 15 months ago at the start of their mission just outside of Paris.  

A team of British Aurors had just portkeyed in to a secret location in the French Ministry.  They were met by head of the French aurors, Mathieu Besson and herself.  As an intern for the Office of Magical Law Enforcement in Paris, she was to serve as a translator and guide for the team.  She was instructed to be with them every step of the way and even required special combat & protective training as she would be considered part of the team on the mission.

As the team filed into the conference room where they would meet and debrief, the tallest of them all immediately caught her eye.  Perhaps it was his formidable height, or his blazing red hair.  When he glanced her way from across the room, she thought maybe it was his piercing blue eyes.  And when he smiled at the crude joke of one of his team, she noticed the sweetest lopsided grin.  As he grinned he glanced at her again and she couldn't help notice the way his ears turned the most adorable shade of red.  Her cheeks responded with their own pink tint.

It was more than just his looks for Hermione though.  After all, Hermione was surrounded by very good looking French wizards (and muggles for that matter thanks to her parentage) on a daily basis and, if she was being completely honest, the team of nine or so British aurors included seven wizards who were all quite stunning in their own way.  If she was being honest, however, she never took a considerable notice in men.  She dated extremely sparingly and none of those dates went on to be anything significant...she just was not interested.  But there was something about this one auror...Auror Ronald Weasley, she soon learned he was called.  She also quickly gathered that among the British aurors, he was considered one of the best.

Hermione Granger quite liked the best.

In the coming days she began to work closely with the team.  They were brought in to gather up a gang of French wizards who were once aurors and thus, knew the inner workings of the French Auror Department, as well as the identities and secret identities of those that remained.  That's when the Ministry decided to bring in fresh faces from the outside to get the job done, with their secret weapon being the unknown, quiet, plain-jane intern who knew the inner workings of the French Ministry, the country - both wizarding and muggle - and the language, and would guide the outsiders to their targets.

The British Aurors' Captain, a stocky wizard named Captain Ledwig, seemed to give auror Weasley the reigns for the mission, so Hermione found herself working with him directly, much to her excitement.  After several days the excitement drained from her.

Auror Ronald Weasley was the most insufferable, crude, ill-mannered, insensitive prat Hermione had ever met.

----

I won't keep y'all waiting... Chapter 3 will post tomorrow! How does Ron change Hermione's opinion of him? Thanks for reading 😁

[softboywriting]

At First Sight | Part Three | Werewolf AU | Shawn Mendes

Summary: Things begin to unfold in the community that make you realize that even though life is better at Lunacasa, it’s not perfect. [fluff] [mates] [werewolf au] [half-blood au] [talk of loss of a parent]

Word Count: 3.8k

|Masterlist In Bio|

"Shawn!"

You open your eyes, looking around the bedroom for the source of the yelling. Your body still hurts but not as bad as it had in the middle of the night. Shawn is sprawled out beside you, arm over your waist.

"Shawn! We have a problem!" There is pounding on the door following the yelling. It sounds like Fiona.

Shawn stirs, eyes blinking open and he pushes up off the bed with an annoyed growl. "What?!" He snaps, running a hand over his hair and glaring at the bedroom door. You stare at his bare back that leads right down the curve of his ass as he sits on the edge of the bed across from you. Good gods he's absolutely breathtaking, how did you manage to land a mate so strong?  

Silence answers him from the door and you can see him tense.

"Fiona I swear to every god there is that I will skin you alive." He pushes off the bed, wrapping the top sheet off of it around his lower half as he heads to the door. He pulls it open and Fiona is standing there with a piece of metal in her hand.

"We have a problem." She holds up what looks like a black metal bar from the fence surrounding the community. "I found this while running this morning."

You sit up and try to get a better look but Shawn has stepped over and is blocking most of the doorway.

"Where?" Shawn takes the object from Fiona. "Was there more?"

"It was out by the far end of the community where Nancy lives. A whole section was missing. Looks like it was cut out somehow."

Shawn hands back the object and runs his hand through his hair, tugging at the curls in the back. "Go tell Nancy and Tom to meet me in the conference room, and get someone out there to repair or replace that fence." Shawn closes the door and turns to you.

"What's going on? What was that thing?"

"It was a piece of the metal fence that surrounds the community." He goes to his dresser and starts getting dressed. "Most likely someone has broken in. It's not the first time unfortunately. We'll find them or what they stole soon enough."

"Why would someone want to break in? We're wolves. Who wants to mess with wolves?"  

Shawn sits down beside you and takes your hand in his. "Lunacasa is a really nice community. Right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, it's not usually humans who break in here. See, not all packs and communities have this sort of set up and it's really hard to get permission to have a place like this. My dad fought hard for permits to build this community and we're as big as we're legally allowed to be. There are a lot of wolves who want to live here and a lot of them who resent us for living in such a protected area."

"Oh, I didn't know it was so different. I figured these places were everywhere, but I guess it makes sense if that's why people want in."

Shawn nods. "Yeah. You went to public school in the city right?"

"Mmhmm."

"You weren't treated the best because you looked different?" You nod. "Your werewolf peers weren't treated the best either I guarantee. Unfortunately our kind experiences a lot of oppression in the human run world and places like Lunacasa are a dream for a lot of wolves and a nightmare for humans who don't understand us."

"Humans don't like werewolves? But we look just like them. We're just shapeshifters, I don't understand. What's so bad about us?"

Shawn smiles sadly, rubbing his thumb over your hand in his. "Oh darling. You really have no idea."

"About what?"

"A lot of humans think we're bloodthirsty killers. They think we're born violent, that we're just animals at the end of the day. You're lucky to not have known how people think of us." He cups your face and kisses you sweetly. "I need to go and meet with Nancy and Tom now."

"But..."

"Yes?"

"Am I safe?"

"Yes." Shawn kisses your head. "You're going to be just fine. We'll sort out the broken fence and find out what's going on. It's probably some wolves who applied to live here that we had to turn away. Don't worry about it."

"Okay." You rub your eyes. "I'm going to go back to sleep then."

"Alright. I'll see you in a bit, love." He leans down and kisses you one last time before leaving and you flop back to try and get some more sleep.

______________________

Shawn is in the conference room with Nancy, Fiona and a guy you can only assume is the one named Tom that Shawn mentioned earlier. You peek in the cracked open doors to see what is going on, you're curious, the meeting is taking a long while. Fiona looks over toward you, most likely noticing your presence and you back away from the door.

"Hey."

You jump and turn around to see a guy standing across from you. He's got sandy blonde hair and he looks like he's about eighteen. "Hello?"

"You're Shawn's mate right?"

"Sort of?"

The guy smiles and shakes his head. "It's okay, I know you two are together." He lifts a camera off his chest and taps the top of it. "I took photos at the party last night. You guys were always together."

"O-oh. Yeah. I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Oh! Shit, sorry." He steps forward and holds out his hand. "I'm Connor. You know my mom, Nancy."

You smile and let out a sigh of relief. "You're Koda's brother."

"Yeah." He rolls his eyes. "Koda is my baby brother. He loves to follow me around and bug me all the time. We're fourteen years apart, so we don't have a lot in common, obviously."

"He looks up to you. He thinks you're cool because you have really good hearing?"

Connor laughs and runs his hand over his hair. "He told you that? He's such a dork. I just have normal wolf hearing, he's just weird."

"He's cute. He said he wishes he had ears like mine, and honestly it might be the best compliment I've ever received."

Connor raises his eyebrows. "He's not wrong, they are cool. Actually, when I was going through my photos from the party I couldn't help but notice them."

"Oh. They're that noticeable?"

"No! No no no, not like that. I mean, they're unique and I just noticed them because they aren't like anything I've ever seen before." Connor runs his hand over his hair and tugs. "Fuck, that doesn't sound much better either. I swear I'm not trying to insult you."

"It okay," you laugh, putting your hand out to stop his rambling. "It's seriously okay, I understand what you mean. You took pictures of me and Shawn?"

"A few yeah, and some of the other couples and just general party stuff as well. Do you want to see them?"

"Yeah, that'd be awesome."

Connor grins big. "Okay, I just have to go get my laptop and I'll be back. Are you going to be here? Or should I meet you somewhere?"

"I'll just hang out here?"

"I'll be right back."

Fiona walks out of the conference room a few minutes later while you wait for Connor. She pauses when she sees you sitting on the floor by the doors to the garden. "Are you waiting for Shawn?"

"No. I'm just waiting for someone to show me something."

"Oh. Who?"

"Connor." You look out the window and see him walking down the garden path with a backpack on. "He's gonna show me some pictures of the party last night."

Fiona looks out and turns around quickly. "That's neat, I'm gonna go see how the fence is coming along." She walks away quickly, head down and you raise your eyebrows. That was weird.

Connor pushes open the door and slips in before sitting down next to you. "Okay I got-" he looks around as if he's heard something.

"You okay?"

"Yeah I...was Fiona here?"

"Yeah? She just left to go check on the broken fence."

Connor shakes his head and opens up his laptop. "Oh, okay." He plugs in a flash drive and brings up a folder to show you the pictures. "Alright, they're unedited so bare with me but they're still pretty good shots."

You scoot closer so you're pressed against his side while he shows you photo after photo. He gets to a few of you and Shawn dancing. Particularly there is one with your head rested on his chest, his arms around your lower back and it makes your heart ache. The tenderness, the love that emanates from it is so real, so raw. The next one is a second later and Shawn's kissing the top of your head.

"This one's my favorite." Connor says, pointing at the screen. "I'm going to make it so you're the only two in focus."

"Can I have a copy of it?"

"Like printed?"

"Yeah." You smile softly. "I want to hang it in my room."

"I can do that." Connor grins and starts editing the photo, adjusting the lighting and stuff.

"Thanks."

"No problem," he glances over at you. "You guys are literally the dream."

"I dunno about that."

"You definitely are. I hope to find someone to love like this one day."

"You will." You elbow him gently. "I bet they're closer than you think." Connor smiles at you and shakes his head with a chuckle, focusing on his editing. You lean your head back against the wall and close your eyes while you wait for Shawn to come out of the conference room.

_____________________

"It's probably that mutt's fault."

You look over at the group of people standing by the front doors of store you're standing in. It's a general store that has all sorts of daily essentials. You are looking for a picture frame for the photo from Connor, hoping you won't have to drive into the city to get one.

"I mean, why would anyone break into Lunacasa?"

"Isn't it shady that she shows up and suddenly the alpha is all over her? Now there's been a break in? I think she came from some other pack and she's trying to bring them in."

You step out of the shop and stand beside the group of three women. They look like they're in their late thirties and you're honestly not surprised to hear them talking shit about you. It was only a matter of time before someone did. In a community this large you know that not everyone is going to like you, even if a majority does.  

"You think I have something to do with the break in?" You ask sweetly, smiling at each and everyone one of them. You want to remember their faces, you want to know who they are in case they walk away.

"Who are you?" A tall blonde woman asks nastily.

You take your headband off and reveal your ears. "The mutt."

The three women look shaken up. They have clearly been caught, and by the person who they were talking about no less. The worst part about it is that they don't even recognize your face. They're standing in public ridiculing a stranger based on the knowledge that you're a half blood and nothing more. Disgusting.

"Cat got your tongue?" You ask, raising your phone up and pretending to snap a picture of the three of them, while actually turning on your video to record the conversation.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Taking your picture." You slide your phone back into the pocket or your jacket. "I'm sure the alpha will want to talk to you after I tell him what I overheard."

"You can't prove anything." A brunette with dark tanned skin says, rolling her eyes. "It's your word against ours. You better watch your back little girl."

You cross your arms and shrug. "It may be my word against yours, but who do you think he's going to believe? His mate or some run down soccer moms?"

"Ah! You little-"

"Darling?" Shawn's voice floats out of the shop and you look in through the open door. He walks toward you, paper bag in hand. "Ladies."

"You came out just in time." You smile smugly at the women as Shawn wraps his arm around your shoulders. "These ladies had some theories about the break in they'd like to share with you."

Shawn raises his eyebrows. "You do?"

"N-no?" The brunette says softly, looking to the other women pleadingly for back up.

"Oh no, please tell them how you think it's my fault. How I, the mutt, is breaking fences to let people in."

Shawn's face falls and he looks pissed. "Excuse me?"

"We never-" "That's not what we said!"

You fish your phone out of your pocket and stop the recording. You press play to play it back for Shawn, starting right before you're told to watch your back.

"You're threatening my mate?" Shawn asks darkly, eyes boring holes through each of them. "I suggest you ladies start looking for a new community."

The tall blonde scoffs and flips her hair. "You're serious? Are you a child? Shawn, not everyone is going to love your mate."

"This is not about you loving her or not, it's about you calling her a mutt, blaming her for a security breach and then threatening her if she says anything about what you said." He growls, holding you close. "Your mindset is not welcome in our community. I'll see that Nancy begins your exile paperwork as soon as possible."

"I- you can't!"

"I can, and I just did. Maybe you should think twice about how your words effect people." Shawn turns you with him and starts walking away from the women. You press your face into his shoulder and he kisses your temple. "I'm proud of you."

"Me?"

"Yes." He kisses your head again. "You didn't just let those women walk all over you."

"I-I guess I felt like I could say something because I knew you would be there. I felt confident with you around."

"I'm glad." Shawn passes you the bag and you open it to reveal two picture frames and a couple of candy bars. "I want a copy of that picture too."

"Yeah? It's nice isn't it?"

"It's beautiful. Nancy showed it to me on her phone. And you know I absolutely loved that dress on you."

"Mmhmm, I remember."

Shawn kisses your cheek and then over your ear. "Not as much as I liked taking it off though."

"Shawn!" You flush, smacking his chest gently and he just cackles, pulling you into a hug and spinning you around. He is such a little shit, but so, so sweet.

_____________________

"Did you hear about the fence being broken?"

You look up at your mom across the dining table. It's been almost a week since the break in, or as Shawn calls it, a security breach. You're surprised she's just now asking you about it.

"Uh, yeah. They got the fence fixed and everything."

"I heard it could be another pack trying to overthrow Lunacasa." She moves her salad around in her bowl and sighs sadly. "I thought things would be different here."

"Mom, things are different. Shawn said this has happened before. It's no big deal, no one got hurt."

Your mom looks up and raises her eyebrows. "You're not worried?"

"No. I trust Shawn. He says it's fine."

"Alright. How's things been?"

"Good." You smile as you take your last bite of chicken. "We're going out tonight."

"Oh yeah? Out of the community or?"

"Mmhmm."

Your mom chuckles. "Is it a surprise?"

"Kind of. I know we're not going into the city, so I'm not sure where else we would go but yeah." You glance at your phone on the table beside you and it's lit up with a message from Shawn. "He's on his way."

"Well, be safe. I hope you have fun." Your mom takes your empty salad bowl and her own to the kitchen. "Take your phone please, and wear a jacket."

"I know, Mom." You stand and go to kiss her cheek where she's rinsing the dishes at the sink. "I'll be with Shawn, of course I'll be safe."

"It's a full moon." She gives you a stern look. "You know that means a lot of wolves will be shifting. I'm serious, you be safe out there."

"I promise I will be."

_____________________

"Are you excited?" Shawn asks, lifting your hand up and kissing your knuckles as he turns his Jeep down a dirt road.

"Yes."

"Not scared?"

"No, never." You look out the window as the dense fir trees zip by in the orange glow of the setting sun. "What's it like?"

"Being a wolf?"

"Yeah." You look over and Shawn glances at you with his eyebrows raised. "What does it feel like?"

He turns right at a fork in the road and you have to hold onto the handle over the door for support as he navigates the Jeep over a very bumpy part of the road. "Well, it's itchy." He chuckles. "But once you get past that, it's a really good feeling, like being completely free."

"I'm not sure I can relate."

"Have you ever dreamed of flying?"

"Yeah?"

"Its like that." Shawn slows the Jeep to a stop in front of a small cabin and kills the engine. "Only you don't fly, you run and run and feel like there's nothing else in the world but you and the trees."

"Wow. That sounds really nice."

He leans over and grabs his bag from the back seat. "Have you ever tried shifting?"

"No? I'm a half blood."

"That doesn't mean you can't shift."

You let out a little half laugh. He must be joking. "Shawn, I can't shift."

"Well, I think you might be able to." He opens his door and comes around to open yours. You unbuckle your seatbelt and he helps you out of the Jeep. "Welcome to the cabin."

"It's beautiful." You walk forward and take in the small but well built log cabin. There are rocking chairs on the porch, a big chest for logs, flowers growing all around the lower half of the front porch. You can't wait to see the inside.

Shawn puts his hand on your lower back, walking beside you up the steps to the front door. "You're sure you're not scared?"

"I'm sure." You laugh as he opens the door for you. "I may not have ever seen a wolf before, but it's you. I'm not afraid of you."

The cabin is beautiful, absolutely breathtaking. It's completely renovated, very modern while maintaining the rustic outdoors feel. It's super cozy, soft blankets and warm tones throughout. It's like one of those cabins you see on a TV show or in a home and garden magazine.

"This cannot be real." You just stare in awe. There is a set of stairs that goes to an open loft overhead where you assume the beds must be. "I'm just...I don't have words."

Shawn drops the bags onto a couch, grinning at you lovingly. "It's pretty cool huh?"

"Cool is an understatement."

"My mom designed it."

You're snapped out of your wonderment at the mention of his mom. He's never talked about her, never even mentioned her before. You sort of assumed she was out of the picture entirely. "Your mom?"

"Mmmhmm." He walks toward the small kitchen under the loft. "She designed places like this, created the whole layout of Lunacasa's community building."

"Oh wow, that's incredible. She must be very talented."

Shawn hums. "She was, that's what dad said anyway."

"You didn't know your mom?"

"N-no." He stops wandering around and leans against the stairs. "She...uh," he clears his throat "she passed away when I was born."

"I'm so sorry." You walk up to him and lay your hand on his arm. "I-I didn't know. I'm sorry I brought it up."

"No, no it's okay. You didn't bring it up, I just started talking." He smiles sadly. "But, yeah, she passed away right after giving birth to me. I was barely breathing when I was born, they couldn't figure out what was wrong. Then my mom held me, crying because she thought I wouldn't make it, and the next thing they knew she was dying."

"What do you mean? Was she bleeding too much or something?"

Shawn wipes his face and you realize he's crying. "No, Dad said they have no idea what happened. He thinks she sacrificed herself for me somehow. He always said I was just like her, that he could see her in me, like her spirit lives on in me."

You wrap your arms around him and he gathers you into a tight hug, hand in your hair. He breathes heavily, still crying as he holds you close. "It's okay Shawn, let it out."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be getting so emotional. We're supposed to be having a good time."

"It's alright." You rub his back slowly. "Earlier when you said you think I might be able to shift, why is that?"

Shawn pulls back and wipes his face with the collar of his flannel shirt. "Well you've got wolf ears. So you must have shifted in the womb? That's what the doctors suspect right?"

"Ah, yeah. But I can't shift now?"

"Have you tried?"

"No. I wouldn't even know how."

He takes your hands and leads you over to the couch. "I can teach you, but if you don't want to learn I won't push it."

"I think I'm okay. Maybe the next full moon we can try. I just want to see you."

Shawn pulls you down onto his lap and he holds your sides. "I'm warning you now, I'm a very large wolf."

"Okay. You're a very large human too."

"No, I'm bigger as a wolf. I just don't want to scare you."

"You won't." You cup his face. "I promise I can handle seeing a big wolf when I know it's you."

"If you do get scared I'll shift back."

"I won't."

"Okay, okay." He smiles as you kiss him quickly. "Let's get unpacked so when the moon is up I'm ready to shift. I don't want to have to worry about anything while we're out in the woods."

"Alright." You move to crawl off his lap but he just wraps his arms around you. "What? You wanted to unpack?"

"Maybe just another minute." He presses his face into your shoulder and you play with his hair. This is your favorite way to kill time with him, if he wanted to wait a few minutes to cuddle then you aren't going to stop him.

----------------------

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Thank you for reading. You’re all amazing and so so so supportive. The love I’ve gotten on this fic has been phenomenal. Please don’t hesitate to send me asks or messages or anything about this fic and what you think is gonna happen next, things you like, or just how much you enjoyed it. Thank you so much! - A

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[hollandsmushroom]

What Changed?

Calum Hood x Plus!Size Reader

Summary: Ever since Cal got back from tour you have felt him being distant, less affectionate and all around disinterested in you, so you confront him

Word Count: 5,165 long detailed and specifically picked words

This is something I am really really proud of, it is the longest thing I have ever written and I worked my ASS off on it!!! I hope you enjoy!!!

Reblog Goal: 30 

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Fluff, self image issues, self hate, body dysmorphia???

Calum had been away on tour for around 3 months now and you were in desperate need of him, and not necessarily in a sexual way, you just needed him with you, to hold you and love you and to remind you to not let the hate get to you, because whenever Cal was away the hate would always get much worse or was it just that fact that he wasn’t there to tell you to ignore it, either way it was always targeting your weight. Today was the day, Cal was coming home from tour today and you would finally be able to see him again, to kiss his plump lips and to hold him. His flight was getting in around mid day and you were going to pick him up, you had hardly slept the night before due to how excited you were to see the love of your life again. In preparation for Cal getting home you had gone out and bought a new set of lingerie that looked great on your curves. You had recently been working on loving your body and seeing it as a gift rather than something to hate for existing with a little extra chub here and there. Cal had always assured you that you were beautiful but there had always been the hate that you received, and that told you the exact opposite. 

You had put on your new lingerie set and thrown on some casual clothes over it and you jumped in your car and started your way to the airport, your hands shaking with excitement to see the man that you loved after so long. You arrived at the airport and parked your car in the parking lot, walking to arrivals, looking and looking up at the sign that displayed departures and arrivals, seeing Cal’s flight had just landed meaning that you were actually going to see him, not the pixilated, exhausted and half focused him that you would get during your face time sessions, no, the real thing. 

You stood idly at the exit area of the arrivals, your legs shaking with the anticipation of your reunion. You stood on your tiptoes to see over the heads of the mass of people in front of you, your eyes scanning the crowd of people exiting the doorway, looking for the face that you had missed so much, you saw him before he saw you, his short brown hair hidden underneath his favorite grey beanie, he looked soft and cozy, your favorite way for Cal to look, it always made you want to cuddle him and you hadn’t in so many months, the time having been hard on you because you always loved curling up in him and just existing so you simply couldn’t wait to do that after so long. You stood in front of him, waiting for him to notice you, and you couldn’t tell if he had and was ignoring you, or if he had just not seen you yet. 

“Calum,” you hollered, waving your hand above your head to catch his attention, his eyes landed on you and you could have sworn that the chocolate orbs lit up for half a second before going back to an unamused and exhausted expression, you decided to let it go.

“Cal, baby, I have missed you,” you spoke softly as you opened your arms, waiting for him to gather you in his hold and kiss you like he had never done so before, but he didn’t. He stood pretty still as you wrapped your arms around him, leaning in to press your lips to his and pulling back once you realized that he wasn’t reciprocating the affection that you were doling out. You decided to not question it, thinking that maybe he didn’t want to show affection with paps and fans around, so you settled for linking your hand with his limp one and walking towards the baggage carousel, gathering his luggage and walking back to the car, the whole while wondering what was up with your boyfriend, why he was being so silent, what had happened on tour that lead him to act this way upon his arrival. You decided to let is slide, he was probably exhausted and too out of it to really notice what was going on, and though deep inside you knew something else was wrong you decided to let it go, to move on and make it to tomorrow before bombarding him with questions. 

The car ride home was quiet, nothing but the quiet hum of the radio to fill the tense air between you and Cal. Your hand was placed on the center console, something you always did when you drove because Cal loved to hold your hand, but this time it was just left there against the cool metal of the interior of the car. You were trying so desperately not to let any of this get to you, he had only been back for an hour, you couldn’t take it personally, it was just that whenever Calum got back he was always so affectionate and loving, but now he was distant and cold, and you felt this realization pang in your chest as you looked at him in the passenger seat, pulling into your drive way and unloading his luggage, the two of you worked together, yet in silence, to carry his stuff in. Once the car was unloaded Cal began to make his way upstairs, leaving you in the entry way with the bags. He was being cold and you didn’t know why, making the rational and adult decision to go to bed, you followed after him, waiting until he was done with the bathroom to slip in and remove the lace from your body, not wanting him to see how excited you had been for his return home. 

You pulled back the neatly placed covers of your bed and slipped in, the fabric smooth against your skin as you pulled the blankets over top of you, rolling onto your side and scooting back to cuddle into Calum’s chest, like you usually slept when he was with you, his arm slung around your middle, your back to his chest, but not tonight, because when you backed up you hit his back, not his warm welcoming chest, causing him to groan.

“Go to sleep,” he mumbled in annoyance, and it was those words that did it for you, it wasn’t just exhaustion, there was something else going on, but what was it? Your sleep deprived and anxious brain began to race, all the reasons that Cal would be acting so cold to you, running through your mind at the speed of light, but one seemed to stick more than the others, one that hurt the most, he was grossed out by you. Your body had never been the so called ‘ideal’ body, but Cal had always told you that he thought that was utter bullshit and that you were gorgeous, but the thing with having been told that someone would have to work to love you, and could easily fall out of love with you because of how you looked, is that it leaves scars, deep set insecurities that are awoken by the littlest of things. A tear slipped  down your cheek as theses thought ran through your brain. You fell asleep like that, with red tear stained cheeks and a wet spot on your pillow, and still he didn’t notice and that broke your heart a little more.

You slept restlessly that night, your body apparently expecting Cal to hold you on his return and being discontent with him being so close, yet not holding you. Continuing with the trend of the previous night, your morning was just as bare of affection, awaking, still lacking the embrace of your boyfriends. Your eyes were sore from the tears you had shed hours before, they weren’t very bloodshot, but it was noticeable, yet it went uncommented on by Cal. 

The next two days were the same as the first, every interaction between you and Cal lacking affection or any romantic undertone, he hadn’t touched you since he came and it was all piling up on your emotions, had you gained weight and he was no longer attracted to you, did he just stop loving you, had he cheated on you. All these thoughts frothed up in the forefront of your mind on the third day after his return. You had a mug of tea in your hand as you sat at the breakfast bench, watching Cal as he sat spread legged on the couch with his eyes trained on his phone. You slid from the stool, approaching the couch with tea in hand and plopping down on the side opposite from Cal. 

“Cal?” you spoke his name as if it were some kind of question, the letters felt unfamiliar on your tongue after days of not saying it.

“Mhmm,” he hummed in response, not looking up from his phone.

“Can we talk?” you sat up and scooted towards him.

“I guess, what do you want to talk about?” he groaned, seeming entirely unenthused at the idea of conversing with you. 

“What has been up with you lately?” you asked softly as you stared at him intently, your whole body facing his as you sat sideways and cross legged on the couch. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed, still not meeting your gaze. 

“Thats bullshit and you and I both know it,” you exclaimed harshly, setting your tea down on the coffee table and repositioning yourself on your knees, just barely looking down at him, “You have been off ever since you got home, and for fucks sake I had shit planned out, I had bought myself some new lingerie, I had stayed off of social media to avoid hate so I could have the confidence to wear it, which by the way, is a lot of hate because its always worse when you are on tour! I was so excited, but when you arrived you brushed me off, didn’t hug me or kiss me back, didn’t talk to me, Cal it has been this way since you got back, what the fuck is wrong?” he was silent after your rant, the room stagnant leading you to continue talking, “Did I do something wrong? Did something happen while you were away? Are you no longer attracted to me, did I gain or lose some weight, am I not beautiful to you anymore? Did you cheat? Cal these are the things that my brain jumps to when you don’t communicate!” you spoke, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks as you let out everything that you had been holding in over the past few days. 

“None of that is it, babe,” he turned to face you, his gaze finally pouring into yours, his brown eyes dancing with sadness.

“Then what the fuck is it, Cal, because I am tearing myself down trying to think of it!” you spoke exasperatedly. His eyes dropped from yours to the ground, examining the grain of the hardwood that peeked out from beneath the carpet.

“It’s stupid,” he murmured.

“I bet it’s not if it had you flat out ignoring me for literal days,” 

“It’s the boys,” he stated with no further explanation, making your brows scrunch together in confusion.

“What about the boys, are you guys okay?”

“Yea. the band is fine, its just that they were making fun of me for how excited I was to see you, teasin’ me about how I get so ‘clingy’ when I get back from tour and I guess it got to me, I started thinking about what if I annoyed you when I got back from tour, what if this time it would be to much for me to comeback and you would get fed up and leave,” you felt tears in his eyes as he poured his heart out to you, you wanted nothing more than to hold him, so thats what you did,  scooting closer to him and tucking yourself into his side.

“You could never be to much for me, thats just your anxiety talking, baby,” you hummed, looking at him through your lashes as  you watched a smile break out onto his face at the reassurance and the validation. He looked at you as he slid an arm down your body, grabbing the back of one of your thighs and pulling your onto his lap.

“I hope you know that now that you said that, all I am gonna be doing is lovin’ on ya,” he mumbled, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, but you laid your hands flat on his chest and pushed him back, his eyes shooting open in confusion.

“Good because you have 3 months of being gone and 2 days of ignoring to make up for, so do your worst, baby boy,” his cheeks flushed at the pet name as he returned his lips to their place on yours. His hands running up your thighs, squeezing the dimpled flesh of your ass and pulling you in closer to him.

He pulled away suddenly, his fingers still gripping your arse cheeks through the denim of your jeans, his eyes softening even more so as he looked into yours, hands dragging up your sides, catching on your belt loop before continuing their ascent, the pad of his thumb brushed across your bottom lip as he tilted your head up. 

“Did you really worry about all those things?” his eyes flicked to your lips as you bit down on them softly before back up to your eyes. You nodded your head bashfully in response, embarrassed at your own anxieties. His heart broke at the sight, you having been so worried that he had fallen out of love with you that you had driven yourself up the wall. “How so?” 

“I spent a lot of time in front of the mirror,” you admitted, almost ashamed at that, he knew what that meant but he still had to ask.

“What did you do in front of the mirror?” tucking hair behind your ear as he looked at you lovingly but your head was ducked to avoid his eyes, for fear of seeing the sadness take root when he found out what you did in front of the mirror, though he already knew what that meant.

“Poking and contorting,” you sighed, tears rimming your eyes as you remembered the distaste that you had felt for your own figure when you thought Cal had fallen out of love. Pinching at the extra chub around your tummy, wrapping your arms around yourself to try and hide from it all, from every flaw that you saw, “I thought you didn’t find me attractive anymore, I thought that maybe you realized I really am just fat like everyone of the headlines say,” you spoke softly as tears slipped from your eyes when you attempted to blink them away. Calum’s eyes shot wide at your words, not having taken into consideration all the hate you must have gotten while he was away, how he wasn’t there to hold you when it hit home, how could be have been such a moron, he was too preoccupied with the foolish worry of scaring you away that he didn’t realize you were tearing yourself down in front of him, ever since the day he came home, and it was his fault.

“No,” was all he could manage, inhaling deeply, his hands falling to your hips and pulling your into his chest, “Baby, no, I am sorry I have been such an idiot and didn’t realize what you were going through,” 

“You really were being an idiot, Cal, I love you in every way that there is, I love when you are clingy cause sometimes I need that reminder that I am still wanted,” You spoke as you looked up at him with slightly bleary eyes.

“I could never fall out of love with you, I love every bit of you, especially the ones you are criticized from, your mind drives me crazy and your body has me all kinds of unpure, you are perfect for me, you are it for me, fuck what anyone else says, you are sexy as hell, and one day I am gonna make you see that for yourself,” He spoke every word with such sincerity, leaning in and catching your lips with his when he finished, your lips stayed meshed with his in the simplest of kisses, feeling your way back into one another’s touch. It was simple pecks, one after the other, pulling away for short puffs of breath before delving back into each others lips, his hands remaining on your hips, that was, until the gentle pecks became more heated, his mouth opening as yours did as well, tongues dancing against each others as he slowly pushed you down till your back met the couch. Your tummy pressed against Cal’s as he hovered over top of you, causing you to squirm, reminding you of the distaste you held for that area of your body, Cal’s hands held you still, pulling back from your kiss swollen lips and looking you in the eyes.

“Stop movin’, I can’t love on you when you’re squirmin’,” he spoke, a smile on his face as he did so, a smile that you had missed so much over the months that he was gone. 

“But my stomach, its pressing against yours,” you sighed in what felt like defeat. 

“Yes, and its amazing,” he spoke, finger tips slipping underneath the fabric of your shirt, tracing over your skin as his lips pressed back to yours. His hands were making there way up to your breasts, slipping underneath the cup and palming at your boobs, pinching and tugging on your nipples as he bit your lip gently, earning a groan from you. “You like that, huh? Is my love just as touch starved as I am,” you nodded your head eagerly, as you arched your back into his hands. He had worked your shirt up till it was above you breasts, tapping your arm to signal to lift them over your head so he could remove it from your body entirely, as soon as he did, you wrapped you arms around your stomach, trying to hide it from his view, but he sat back on his knees, silently peeling your arms from your body before dipping down and placing kisses from the bottom of your tummy all the way up to your lips, biting down on your bottom lip and pulling away. 

His hand slipped underneath your back, skillfully unclasping your bra and dragging the straps down your shoulders letting your breasts fall free. 

“Oh, how I have missed these,” he groaned, ducking his head down and wrapping his kiss swollen lips around the nub of your nipple, sucking on the sensitive bud as he massaged your other breast, he did this for around a minute before switching, your body jolting as he began to work again on your already sensitive nipples. A slight pant of Fuck exited your swollen lips as he did this.

“We should take this to our room before I get to carried away on the couch,” he whispered as he pulled back from your chest. 

“Cal, you like fucking on the couch,” you mumbled as you watched him sit back and stand up. 

“Y/n, I am not gonna fuck you,” he spoke, his words making you utterly confused, was he gonna leave you like this, high and not really dry, more like dripping wet for him, “I am gonna fucking worship you,” he bent down and pulled you up so that you were standing as well, your breasts hanging low as you stood bare chested in front of him, you crossed your arms over your boobs and the movement caught Cal’s eye.

“I will let it slide for now, but there will be no more of this,” he gestured to your hands covering your breasts, “when we reach the bedroom,” grin on his face that sent your stomach into flurries of butterflies as to what was about to happen. He took your hand and began to walk down the hallway, pushing open the bedroom door before spinning around. Once again capturing your lips in his as his hands ran up and down your sides squishing the rolls on your hips as he held you close to him, walking backwards to the bed, turning you around as he went, the back of your knees hit the edge of your bed, causing them to unlock and fall back onto the bed, your breast falling to the side as Calum hovered over you, his chest to your sternum as his lips remained on yours. His fingers laced with yours as he pinned your hands to the bed on either side of your head as his hips slowly ground into yours, you felt his hard on through his pants as he rubbed against your clothed core. Slowly he began to kiss away from your lips, working down your jaw until he met the soft spot where your jaw met your neck, sucking on the flesh lightly before continuing his kisses down your neck. He placed two light pecks on your nipples, but not spending much time on them due to his earlier assault. 

You groaned as he neared the hem of your pants, knowing what was to happen as soon as he slipped your pants off. His slipped his fingers into the front of your pants, tugging them down passed your hips, drawing each leg from its pant leg as he did so. Once each leg was free he traced his fingers up each leg, the chubby flesh giving way beneath the light pressure of his hand. He pushed your thighs apart revealing your pantie clothed core that was usually hidden by your thighs that met in the middle, though it had always been something you were insecure about Calum always assured you that he loved it when your thighs wrapped around his head as his tongue curled deep inside of your core. 

Your eyes were clamped shut as you felt lips on your legs, sucking as he made his way closer and closer to your core, placing a soft kiss to your clothed heat, a gasp escaping your puffy lips but it quickly turned into a sigh as he began to kiss your other thigh. He chuckled to himself as he teased you.

“Cal, please,” you whimpered, unable to keep going, your panties already had a wet spot on them from your arousal soaking through. 

“What do you need, baby?,” he asked though he already knew exactly what you wanted.

“You,” you moaned.

“What. About. Me. Do. You. Want,” Each word was punctuated with a kiss to your core, his nose nudging your clit through your underpants. Your hands shooting down to grip at his hair, the feeling all to much on your over sensitive heat.

“Fuck, Calum, all of you, please, I need you,” you whimpered.

“You got it, my love,” he bit down on the fabric of your panties, pulling back and dragging the fabric down your legs, leaving you bare and dripping in front of him. “Fuck baby, you’re so goddamn pretty,” he groaned, swiping his fingers through your heat, coating them in your arousal and bringing them to his lips, sucking them clean. “Fuck, I almost forgot how good you taste,” he moaned, “C’mere baby,” he mumbled as he chewed on his bottom lip, admiring the way that you chest rose and fell, how your breasts moved with your panting breath, he had missed this view, and god did he regret ever letting your doubt how fucking much he loved you and your body. He grabbed your calves, pulling you to the edge of the bed, your ass barely on the mattress as he held you up with your legs thrown over his shoulders, your heat at eye level with him, “Fuck, baby, you are so damn beautiful,” he mumbled, not giving you a chance to respond he leaned in, placing gentle kisses on your folds before sliding two fingers through them to part the flesh, spreading them into a v-shape to get better access to your clit. He was tender and loving and it was driving you mad, you wanted him, his tongue, his lips, his teeth, fuck you wanted it all. He stuck out his tongue and licked through your folds, his eyes on your face the whole time, the look of pleasure on your face enough to encourage him to continue, he wrapped his lips around your clit and began to suck, his tongue slipping out and tracing circles around the bundle of nerves. 

“Oh fuck, that-that feels good,” you moaned, your hips involuntarily moving against Cal’s face. 

“Mmm, you like that baby?” he asked rhetorically, knowing by the expression on your face kist how much you were enjoying this. His fingers circled around your entrance as he stayed sucking on your clit. He dipped one finger into your heat, feeling your muscles contract around his digit in response to the feeling of part of him inside you, a feeling that had sadly become foreign to you in his absence. Slowly he curled his finger deep inside of you, pulling out and adding another, repeating the same motion he had with the first, thrusting them in and out of you as his lips stayed on your clit. He felt the contractions of your walls around his fingers become more frequent, enjoying the feeling.

“You close, baby?” he asked against your core, the vibrations adding even more stimulation, pulling you to the edge, but not being what pushed you over, what did that was a thrust of his fingers that touched the spot that lived behind your pubic bone, one that was guaranteed to make your legs shake and your head to throw back in ecstacy. 

“Cal, Cal, oh fuck Cal,” you cried as your legs shook, tightening around his head as he continued licking and curling his fingers deep inside of you. He continued these motions till he was sure you had ridden out your high. 

Pushing your thighs apart he pulled back, watching as you peeled your eyes open from their clamped shut position from your orgasm. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows, you watched him as he stood from his place between your legs, a bulge evident in his pants. Your reached out and grabbed the tent in his pants, outlining his hard cock through the taught fabric.

“What got you this hard?” you smirked up at Calum through your lashes, dragging his sweat pants down his hips and taking his boxers with them, his cock springing free and standing upright against his still clothed torso. You tugged on the hem of his shirt, signaling for him to remove it. Taking your hint he pulled the shirt over his head leaving him stark naked in front of you. Reaching out you wrapped your hand around his cock, thumbing over his tip in a circular motion, spreading pre-cum around his painfully hard cock. 

“Baby, you need to stop,” he groaned, his eyes clamping shut.

“Hmm, why should I?” you didn’t stop your motions. 

“Because,” he said, snapping out of it, grabbing your wrist and pushing you down, “I want the first time I cum to be inside of you, not on your hand,” he chuckled, kissing your lips as he grabbed the base of his cock, running the tips through your sopping folds as he continued to ooze pre-cum, your previous orgasm mixing with his juices. 

“You ready baby?” he asked as he lined himself up at your entrance. Giving a quick nod in response, he slowly pushed into you. Your walls stretching at his size as it had been so long since you had had his cock buried inside of you. He stilled his hips after the initial thrust into you, letting you adjust to him as to not hurt you.

“M’ready baby,” you mumbled once you had gotten used to the stretch, letting him know that it was okay to start moving, which he did, thrusting into you with force, his cock reaching places inside of you that it never had before. 

His head was in the crook of your neck, his thrust powerful and slow as to make sure he felt the drag of your walls around him and that you felt every inch and vein of his throbbing cock. His lips brushed over your skin as he began to mumble everything he loved about you, one sweet nothing per powerful thrust of his cock. Reminders that it was you who he loved and that he loved every bit of you, your laugh, how your boobs jiggled when he pushed into you, how your thighs felt around his head, how he loved tracing your stretch marks because it reminded him of how much you have grown. Each compliment and each thrust pulling you both to the brink of your orgasms as you dragged your nails down his back, your legs wrapping around his torso.

“Come on baby, cum with me,” he groaned into your neck, sliding his hand down your waist and in-between your bodies, slipping his thumb between your folds and rubbing slow circles against your clit, each one in a slight upward motion to expose the nerves of your clit from underneath your hood. 

“Yea, yea, Cal I am cumming, Cal oh fuck,” your back arched into his chest as he pulled his head out of your neck and kissing you on your lips. 

“I am gonna cum,” he mumbled against your lips as he felt you release your juices around his cock, the pulsating rhythm of your muscles around him causing him to release his load deep inside of you. He collapsed against your chest breathless after the both of you came. You stayed this way until he went soft inside of you, that was when he pulled out of you and flopped onto the bed next to you.

“I love you, and I am so sorry I ever made you doubt that,” he hummed, tracing the stretch marks on your skin, “Every inch of you is perfect and I could never fall out of love with you, I just got worried I would be too much for you,” you rolled over in his arms, looking him dead in the eye and cupping his cheek.

“The same goes for you, you are perfect and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, and especially don’t hold it in and let me freak out,” you giggled, drifting your eyelids shut as you drew your face closer to his, pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss.

Reblog Goal: 30(please surpass this though)

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[calamity-bean]

the angry prince of goofs

I’ve been thinking about Ziggy Sobotka, which was probably my first mistake, and especially about one little detail that’s demonstrated repeatedly but not really explored in depth: Ziggy is good with technology. 

Better than most of the characters in his orbit, at any rate; he understands computers, understands the internet, has to explain digital cameras and search engines to Nick, who still seems confused. And while, even for 2003, I wouldn’t claim he’s a technical genius, this detail stands out to me partly because it’s one area in which he’s expressly shown to be more capable than his cousin — typically the far more competent of the pair — and partly because he tends to get written off, both in-universe and out, as, well... an idiot. A stupid guy who does stupid things simply because he’s stupid, with no greater character depth or complexity than that.

And that... kinda irks me! Look, I get why Ziggy’s not exactly a fan favorite. He’s not cool. He’s not a badass. He’s immature and abrasive and makes a lot of frustrating decisions, and I get why so many viewers find that annoying, I really do. But although he can certainly be a dumbass, I’m honestly not convinced that he’s dumb, and I think it does a disservice to the writing of the season and to James Ransone’s performance (easily among his best work, imo, out of the roles I’ve seen him in) to boil Zig down to just a clueless annoyance with no regard for why he acts the way he does or his value to the overall narrative.

So I’ve been thinking about Ziggy Sobotka, and types of intelligence, and finding one’s place in the world, and how Ziggy’s character arc relates to The Wire’s overarching theme of a changing city at the dawn of the new millennium.

Twice, over the course of the season, Ziggy���s mentioned in connection with college.

The first time is in 2.06, as Frank chews him out about literally burning money at the bar — definitely one of those moments that baffles and enrages viewers, cause oh my GOD, Zig, Nick goes to all that trouble for you, and then you burn a hundred dollar bill? What the heck, man. But I love this scene with Frank. It’s Ziggy at his most subdued and collected; it’s one of maybe two substantial conversations between father and son all season; and it reveals that Ziggy is capable of being far more observant than he often seems. Frank, frustrated with the lack of employment available for Ziggy, vents, “Maybe if I’d have listened to your mother, cause she’s the one always talking about you should do the community college, like your brother.” Why would Frank let one son continue his education, but not the other? Well, I have to read between the lines here, but I don’t think it’s outlandish to guess that it’s because Ziggy is — or was supposed to be — Frank’s heir. We know he’s Frank’s firstborn, and we know that for Frank, working on the docks is more than an occupation; it’s a cherished family legacy going back generations and a huge point of pride. Ziggy was probably always earmarked to follow in his father’s footsteps, and he probably always knew it. “You wanna know what I remember?” he says, and describes the education he did receive: a life spent paying careful attention to his father’s world. “Everything. Everything.” College just was not a necessary part of the life planned for him.

But there’s absolutely no future on the docks for Ziggy, and by this point, father and son both know it. It’s a rapidly dying profession with scarce shifts available for L-series juniors, so maybe it’s no surprise Zig puts a lot more effort into being a thief and drug dealer than he does into being a checker. Unfortunately, despite seeming fairly adept in logical-mathematical intelligence (technical knowledge, facts/figures, coming up with plans), Ziggy fumbles in all these pursuits because of one type of intelligence that he definitely does lack: interpersonal/social skills — i.e., the ability to read a room and to play well with others. He constantly annoys people, never realizes he’s being tricked until it’s too late, and lets emotion get the better of him, leading him to be irresponsible and impulsive and seek instant gratification. This is, again, in contrast to Nick, who is much less tech savvy than Zig but far more personable and reliable. People like Nick. They trust Nick. Even Frank seems to have a closer relationship with his nephew than with his own son.

And this feeds into a critical difference between Nick and Ziggy. Nick, with Aimee and Ashley to support, is primarily motivated by a need for money; Ziggy, on the other hand, cares less and less about money as the season progresses and is primarily motivated by a desire for something Nick already has: respect. More broadly, Zig craves the validation of others, whether that validation comes to him as respect or approval or even just attention. This, more than immaturity and definitely more than a simple lack of intelligence, is what drives his behavior, including his most reckless or seemingly inexplicable acts. In some circumstances, it inspires him to act like a tough guy; in others, it manifests in childish clownery like whipping out Pretty Boy or waltzing around with a seeing-eye duck, as though he were a comedian playing to a crowd. It’s why he wastes his money on showy status symbols, like Princess and a $2,000 coat, or on buying rounds for the bar. And of course, it manifests in trying to show up his father, who seems to have plenty of time and money for all the other stevedores and yet, by his own admission, pays scant attention to his own son except when Zig screws up... which, needless to say, Zig has a bit of a chip on his shoulder about.

The irony, of course, is that the harder Ziggy tries to impress people, the less it works. His attempts to act tough get him trounced. The other stevedores are happy to let him buy drinks and play class clown, but they are very much laughing at him rather than with him, and the same guys who egg him on and flatter him always turn right around and scoff at what a fool he is after it blows up in his face. His biggest attempt to prove himself is the car heist... which actually goes off without a hitch! Like I said, Zig’s not bad at logistical planning; he comes up with a clever scheme and carries it out successfully. It should’ve been a triumph for him — proving that he could handle himself, that he didn’t need Nick or Frank looking out for him and deserved to be treated like a valid player in the game. But Glekas, like everyone else, saw Ziggy as easy to take advantage of and too weak to effectively retaliate. If it were earlier in the season, he’d have been right, just like every other time Zig wound up tricked and humiliated. Unfortunately for everyone involved, though, by that point, Ziggy — impulsive, hotblooded Ziggy — was “tired of being the punchline to every joke.”

The Wire: Truth Be Told (which I haven’t gotten to read beyond previews) calls Ziggy the “angry prince of goofs.” I think that, more than anything, Ziggy is someone who keeps trying on different costumes and never finds one that fits. He was supposed to carry on the Sobotka stevedore legacy, but the profession is dying, and even if it weren’t, Nick is far more an heir apparent to Frank than Ziggy is. So he tries to be a tough guy, but isn’t; tries to be the sort of cool, funny guy people like and admire, but can’t; tries to prove himself as a player, but makes mistake after mistake until he screws up so horribly that there’s no coming back from it. When Frank tells him that what he did to Glekas and the store clerk isn’t him, Ziggy replies incredulously, “It ain’t?” — because it is him, he did that! But he’s not suited to being a killer, either; he immediately falls apart with horror and remorse. So what is he? Who is he? Was there anything he could have succeeded at, any way he could’ve made better choices than he did?

In 2.10, shortly after Ziggy’s arrest, we meet Priscilla Katlow — the same girl listed on the fake paternity papers Zig gets pranked with in 2.07. In the earlier episode, Nick implies that Prissy is, to be crass, kind of the neighborhood bicycle, making it sound like she was nothing more to Zig than a one-night stand. I have a lot of feelings about the fact that it turns out she’s actually a childhood friend who’s visibly in tears over Ziggy’s situation when she finds Nick grieving on the playground of their old school. They’re maybe the only two characters we see who seem to not only care about Ziggy but genuinely like him, and they reminisce about a time, years ago, when he was supposed to buy them all some SoCo and Pikesville Rye. Instead, he bought Boone’s Farm — because, he claimed, “that’s what the college kids drank.” Then, while drinking it on that same playground, he shouted, “College kids ain’t shit!” And I know I’m really galaxy-braining here, really reading a lot into just a few lines, but I can’t help but wonder, like… This seems to have taken place toward the end of high school, since Prissy was driving her mom’s car and Ziggy could pull off a fake ID. Ziggy probably already knew that he was bound for the docks right after graduation, if he wasn’t working there already; Frank wasn’t even entertaining Zig’s mother’s wish that they send him to college instead. And I wonder if, to some extent, Zig resented that? Or resented not having a choice? Because this anecdote implies a mixture of wanting to emulate those college kids (drinking what he thinks they drink) while simultaneously deriding them — perhaps because he knew that he couldn’t be one, no matter whether or not he wanted to, and therefore had to act like the entire concept was beneath him.

I don’t know whether Zig would’ve done better in college anyway. I think that, contrary to popular opinion, he did have his own areas of intelligence and competence, but despite being in some ways the more “book smart” of the Sobotka cousins (Ziggy’s technical knowledge vs. Nick’s common sense), maybe he’d have been too immature to put in the work for school, too lazy or too proud to try. But I just wonder if he might’ve had a better chance at life that way, both in terms of staying out of trouble and of possibly finding a field that would’ve better rewarded his skill-set. Insofar as The Wire in general is about the changing face of Baltimore and how the shifting infrastructure of the city impacts the individuals within it (particularly the economically marginalized), and insofar as season 2 specifically is about the death of American industry and of the traditional blue-collar working class, Ziggy is an exploration of someone who fell through the cracks of that shift and, in that respect, was sort of doomed to failure from the beginning. James Ransone has described him as “very castrated” in terms of his power and potential for social mobility, the game being rigged against working-class people like him even with the advantages of being a white male. Ziggy’s brother, armed with a college education, might fare better in the 21st-century workforce... But even if Zig hadn’t ended up in prison, he probably wouldn’t have lasted much longer in the family business anyway. Johnny Fifty, a more senior checker, is homeless by season 5, and unemployment is the implied fate of nearly all longshoremen in the near future.

And honestly? Although I really like Ziggy, I appreciate that he’s a failure. I think one of the reasons I do feel so deeply for him is that the narrative never rewards his errors or glorifies his misdeeds. If it did, he’d risk coming off as one of those edgy, disenfranchised white guy antihero types, and I doubt I’d have found that nearly as sympathetic or interesting. By the standards of The Wire, Zig’s relatively small-time in terms of how much damage he causes and pretty notable for how extremely he regrets what harm he does do, but that still doesn’t excuse his actions, and the narrative doesn’t pretend that it should. Nor does it pretend that he’s not also worthy of our interest and pathos anyway.

Ziggy Sobotka is not cool. He’s not a badass. He’s not any of the things he tried to be during the season, and he’ll probably never get a chance, now, to be anything other than a murderer locked up for life. And I know he wasn’t entitled to any fate other than the one he earned for himself, but I wish he’d been able to find a better path.

[vipers-hat]

All for Grant. >:3c

1) How do they respond to having a song stuck in their head? Does that happen to them often? “Oh God, not that one again” then begrudgingly play it til its out of his head. 

2) How do they feel about confronting their friends when issues arise? He’ll only confront them if the situation turns absolutely dire/Grant thinks the friendship is on the brink of disintegrating. He’ll try to keep his own feelings close to his chest if he thinks it’ll lead to a confrontation. 

3) When speaking to themselves in their mind, how do they refer to themselves? “You” and a buncha self-deprecating or self-preserving adjectives. 

4) Do they enjoy wearing socks/stockings when they aren’t wearing shoes? Not really. Socks get annoying after a while. 

5) Do they have any unappealing habits (ex: picking their nose, hawking loogies)? Does nearly nonstop self-hate count?

6) How do they cope with losing a game? Shrug it off and move on

7) How do they cope with losing an argument? Same as the last answer

8) How do they cope with losing a friend? Fuck him up entirely. Losing one if they part ways after a fight is right up there with losing his friends in that skirmish, so a lot of anger/grief goes internal and he either shuts down or turns the blame on himself. 

9) How do they cope with losing a lover? Not as upset about losing a friend, but close. It takes him a while to decide he’s even worthy of love, so it’s an outlook of “they’re better off without me.” 

10) Do they enjoy sitting on countertops? I wouldn’t say “enjoy” but he does if the place he’s in is cramped and the space allows for it. 

11) How expressive is their face? Are they easy to read? Not very expressive/he usually keeps a neutral face, but he expresses himself a lot via expressions, so when he does react to something, a little goes a long way. 

12) How do they deal with experiencing physical pain?  He’s got a high pain threshold, so he basically just rolls with it. 

13) Are they easily insulted? Not at all

14) Would they prefer to act or react? Depends on the situation. In general, react, if there’s an emergency or someone is in danger, then definitely act first. 

15) How would they respond to performing on stage? The only way to get him up on a stage would be if you had to administer medical attention on a flat surface while he was unconscious. Can’t respond to being up there if you go out of your way to never get on a stage. 

16) Would they ever wear perfume or cologne? When? What would the scent be? He’s not a cologne guy in the least. 

17) Could their personality or interests be considered “flighty?” Do they change their mind/interests often? Not at all. He’s got a small handful of interests that never really change/suit him just fine, so he’s happy with them. 

18) Do they daydream? Of what? All of the “what if”s if his life hadn’t gone to shit. 

19) What is the most inappropriate thing they have ever done in public? Decked a guy in passing for poking fun at an injured homeless vet. It was an emotional day for him to begin with, and it’s not ‘inappropriate’ per se, but he’s still not entirely thrilled he did something that escalated that quickly. 

20) What was their favorite toy as a child? Little He-Man figures that his uncles got him. 

21) What was their favorite way to play as a child (ex: playing pretend, playing games with rules like tag,)? Playing pretend, though usually it was basically only half a game, because he’d pretend to be a rancher/cowboy in the Old West while helping out at his uncles’ farm. 

22) How do the sneeze (ex: loudly, quietly, openly, into their elbow, hold the sneeze in)? Tries to be as quiet as possible, into his arm 

23) When engaged in an irritating conversation, how to they conduct themselves? Lots of smiling and nodding. 

24) What words make them cringe? “Purpose” , “square” (in a ‘town square’ sense), “guilt”

25) How do they feel in large crowds? Fairly comfortable, though the soldier in him is constantly noting how many exits are around/what have you in case of an emergency where he has to get people out. 

26) Would they ever spend an afternoon in a library? What section would they spend the most time in? He probably wouldn’t, but if he had to, probably any place with the comfiest chairs. 

27) Do they find it difficult to try new foods? Not at all, he’s willing to try new things right off the bat. 

28) If a friend asked them to taste something and it turned out to be unpleasant, how would they handle it? Not let them see him struggle with it, keep his face/voice as pleasant as possible. He’d rather die than hurt their feelings. And he’d wait a few minutes/at least a couple of it’s a quick cooking process and make ‘harmless suggestions’ to try and improve the dish - but deliver the suggestions so blase so it doesn’t seem like he’s actively correcting them and they think it’s mostly their personal change, ie: “Oh, that could use... I don’t know, little something for an extra little kick” “Hmm. Oh, I could add more sugar, even out some of the bitterness!” “Perfect!” 

29) Do they wear underwear? 100% of the time, yes

30) Can they pee in front of other people? Only people he’s close to/has known for years. 

31) What story gave them nightmares as a child? When his parents talked about getting promotions and the like - which meant less time for him, so he’d dream about them leaving him somewhere/forgetting him/being all alone etc. 

32) How would they respond to being handed an infant? Absolutely petrified. He would hate it, fear that he’s tainting the kid and try to hand them off to someone else the first chance they got. He’d definitely have to have someone right there next to him to reassure him that he’s being really good with them. Which is a crime because most babies usually immediately love him. 

33) How would they respond to being asked to watch over a child for an afternoon? “Uuuuhhh is there.... someone... else? More qualified?” 

34) Do they enjoy climbing trees? No. Doesn’t really see the point. 

35) In which of their own skill sets do they have the most confidence? Why? Threat assessment while referring to people, because it’s what he was good at in the Army. 

36) Do they enjoy receiving compliments? How do they respond to it? Laugh it off and be super dismissive about it. “Thanks, but not really.” 

37) How often are they the one to initiate physical contact? Not very often. He’s got to be in a rare affectionate mood to initiate. If someone else initiates he’d be happy to go along with it, though.

38) Do they prefer salty or sweet things? Sweet

39) Do they get the urge to jump from high places? ... ... You all know the angsty direction I could take this which is ABSOLUTELY true, but for now I’ll say no and be lying through my teeth. 

40) Have they every written a dirty letter and actually sent it? Not at all. Dirty communication of any kind isn’t his forte. 

41) How would they describe their love life?  “Non-existent and loving it” (John or Matthew walk by) “... ... Okay so that was an outright lie and I’m happy.” 

42) How would they describe their sex life? “Not bad” - he borders on ace so it doesn’t happen much, which he’s absolutely fine with. 

43) Do they hide objects? What and where? He doesn’t hide any objects. He figures he hides enough of his personal life, why add more things to the list? 

44) What are their reasons for getting up in the morning (outside of achieving their main goal)? Again there’s a very heavy, very true, very angsty answer that I could go with, but for now - he doesn’t want to disappoint and/or worry Nic, John or Matthew, so he’ll get up for them, then genuinely enjoy the day just because he gets to spend time with them. 

45) Who is their greatest confidant? Who confides in them? Nic. She was the first one in years to not pry into his life with annoying, over-asked questions. She didn’t constantly give him pitying looks either. She treated him like a regular person and let him come to her with details about his life, so she earned his trust and friendship, and that gives her confidant status. And it’s mutual for that reason. 

46) What is something they’ve always wanted to do, but know they shouldn’t? Tell off his parents for being shitty people. He could, but there’s already been so much damage between them and done to himself he’s afraid he’d rip apart what shreds of a relationship they have left. 

47) Is there someone whose laugh makes them laugh as well? Nic again, John on occasion, Whitehorse, Matthew

48) How festive are they on holidays? Depends on who he’s with. If he’s alone, he’ll be vaguely festive. Put him with Nic, or whichever boyfriend he has depending on the Universe, or his family he does have a good relationship with: “Hell yeah, give me that ugly sweater, Hell yeah I’ll help you with the ham, Hell yeah I’ll play Santa for the kids.” 

49) How would they respond to their ears ringing for an extended period of time? Would drive him absolutely bonkers and he’ll try any trick in the book to make it stop. 

50) How likely is it that they would be the first to point out a full moon or a beautiful sunset? He wouldn’t be the first to point it out but he’d be the first to notice it. 

[yoshimickster]

RWBY Volume 6 Episode “Alone in the Woods” Micksterecap-THINGS HAPPEN FINALLY!

Hey everybody hoping you had a good week, mine’s had some bumps but I’m still dancin’ so WHATEVS-lets get to Micksterecap!

OUR EPISODE STARTS OUT-

-with Ruby thinking about reenacting her favorite scene from “An American Tail”, moon and everything-BUT-

2:05 -CAN’T due to Bumblebee angst. Look at Weiss in the middle there, no WAY she doesn’t know she’ a buffer between the two of them. Girl just wants to be warm, why does she also have to be in between passive aggressive romance drama?

Its sad times like this when a girl JUST needs a stable adult to talk to, so she GOES to Qrow-

-aaaaaaaaaaand he’s drinking...super. Way to keep it together, one of only 2 stable adults. He then tells her that he’s okay and that he’ll wake everyone up in the morning because he’s the STABLE adult he is!

A CUT TO-Maria telling Oscar about the late man of the house Bartleby, and how the farming community was going through a BIT of tough times, which I’m SURE he didn’t try to solve by using the dark arts...so sure.

Ruby than tells everyone they gotta go to sleep as they gotta get out of this rejected Evil Dead setting ASAP, which I’m sure Qrow will DEFINITELY be awake to wake up everbod-

4:13 Oooooooooooooooooooooh Qrooooooooooooooow...you got a problem man. That’s an ENTIRELY different bottle of booze. AND-just when you think his drinking problem couldn’t be even MORE of a problem-

-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH she woke up before him and saw him in this state. We’re getting real here folks, we’re tackling alcoholism, WE’RE DOING IT FOLKS!

In a FIT of anger-

-Ruby SMASHES that shit-

-WAKING-his drunk ass up-

-making him INSTANTLY realize he broke a promise due to his drinking...we are getting DANGEROUSLY close to very special episode territory here folks.

Ruby than gives him a sweet hug telling him he could talk to her and Yang about stuff, but like many people with a problem Qrow brushes it off...uuuuuuuuuuuuuh...HAMMERS! Sorry...trying to make a joke here but its just...SUCH an angst fest!

5:36 Everyone else is awake, hell Weiss even welded a hitchemup to Bumblebee(the bike not the ship) with her dust magic so the cart will attach to it! When Weiss learned welding I do NOT know but I’m glad she did!

EITHER WAY everything goes out fine without ANY proble-

-aaaaaaaaaand Qrow’s Misfortune pops the tire (Ruby, HIDE THE BOOZE).

This single deflated tired sparks a chain reaction of mental anguish, where everyone is practically giving up on the mission, Yang even tells Ruby she should just throw the Jinn lamp down the well ALSO-

7:43 These three just...STARE at Ruby until she drops it in the well...like weird sleepy zombies. Ruby attempts to toss that sucker down the well-

-while ALSO sporting a sleepy zombie demeanor like everyone else which I’m SO SURE won’t mean anything later-BUT THEN-

“Hey kid...you like balloons?”

Ruby than drops the lamp, LOGICALLY freaks out about it ALL WHILE-

-these...three sleepy bitches don’t give a SHIT! If you can ‘t tell by now, some CLEAR devil magic is being had here.

Ruby somehow being the ONLY person to not be sleepified, gets her team to join her in getting the magical lamp that the bad guy wants that is STILL a freakin priority! And I’m sure Qrow, being a mature man of body and mind will FIGHT BACK the curse holding them-

Qrow: Everyone do whatever, I’m gonna drink away my feelings.

Ooooooooooooooh right, depression.

9:29 Team RWBY jumps down the well without receiving fall damage, in what is CLEARLY Killer Croc’s level in Batman Arkham Asylum. Get the Poison Ivy spores and then GET OUT OF THERE! The four than search for the lamp-ALL WHILE-

Maria continues to read Bartelby’s diary which I’m sure will have NOOOOOOOOOOOOO relevance at all...absolutely none.

After slightly more emo than usual Blake points out their scroll’s flashlights are useless when they’re looking for a glowing lamp of infinite glowing-

-BAM-they finds that shit, and I’m sure NOTHING bad will happen when they go look for it, not Salem’s crew, not White Fang-bangers, not nightmare Grimm that suck away your will to care about anything creating utter and total apath-

-ooooooooooooooh crap, RUN OLD WOMAN! RUN AND HELP THOSE FOUR TEENAGERS WHO AREN’T USED TO THE SOUL CRUSHING NOTHINGNESS!

OH SWEET JESUS-they’re all bendy and moaning, and GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE! They even freak out Ruby-

-BUT thankfully-

-THAT was enough to wake them up from their case of the SERIOUS mondays. TERROR-the greatest alarm clock of all! Ruby THEN introduces them to the monsters of the week-

-DAMMIT-I wish I could get a better picture of how unsettling they all are, like freaky inky skeletons. Ruby then gives the FIRST volley-

11:12

-WHICH does nothing! That’s what you get for forgetting those super cross-bullets from the character short Ruby...and RWBY in general, what the hell happened to those things? Its even worse when the Apathy uses-EMO SHRIEK-

And its SUPER effective! THANKFULLY THOUGH-

OLD LADY MARIA APPEARS to save the day...by...encouraging them to run! Hey, helping’s helping, I’m not picky.

Maria: LET’S GO LESBIANS, LET’S GO!

Team RWBYM then runs ALL throughout the catacombs, running into more and more of these Grimm zombie fucks and JUST when they get to the exit-

-AND they hit em with another depression wave, they make Blue Diamond look like Holly Blue!

12:29 That don’d stop Maria, the little Yoda that could from trying to open the door-BUT-to no avail! Strong will power has its limits. ALSO-Blake has the most...HORRIFYING reaction to the Apathy’s power-

Blake:...its fine.

While she just LIES down, complacent in the absolute nothingness the Apathy gave them, just CREEPY!

Things are just NOT looking good folks, the music keeps getting creepier, the Grimm keep getting closer, and the PROM is tomorrow! But RIGHT before one of the skeledudes try to Freddy Kruger Blake-

Ruby: NO-not my sister’s almost girlfriend!

WOO-silver eyes-STUN THOSE LITTLE BITCHES!

Things seem good for like THREE seconds, Yang rushes to the door to bash it open BUT-

-they blast them with YET ANOTHER emo wave-RIGHT before Yang could get to the door.

Yang: NO-I can’t reach one of my two almost girlfriends!

Don’t lie, some of you were thinking shippy thoughts with that shot, and you DISGUST ME!

13:54 Once again its up to RWBY Grandma Katara to SAVE the day!

Maria: Ruby, what color are your eyes?

By...asking questions about eye color apparently! Also her goggles don’t look THAT distorted, I’m amazed she hasn’t guessed their silver.

Maria than gives her the ULTIMATE pep-talk, Ruby gets up and REVEALS-

-SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE HA GRIMM DISINTEGRATION POWERS! AWESOME! H-wait...did Ozpin KNOW about how Silver Eye powers WORKED? Cos if he did...wwwwwwwwwwwhy didn’t he get Ruby a tutor? Because that is one BAD ASS super power!

Either way it was an attack SO awesome-

-that it fixed Maria’s eyes! HUZZAH!

Yang bashes the exit’s door, REVEALING IT LEADS TO-

15:22 -THE HOUSE...uh, yeah where else would it lead? I’m just saying EVERYONE here is surprised, including Weiss and Ruby who saw the door LAST episode. Man, intense magical apathy must do TERRORS on the memory-WHICH-is actually true for those for depression. They ALSO see-

DRUNKLE QROW-who has been ABSOLUTELY useless this ENTIRE episode due to the Apathy amplifying his depression. Seriously, I want to point out he DOES look worse in this episode than others, most times he was a functional drunk, this time he went full off the wagon.

Everybody decides to logically leave this hellish house of hell-housery-RIGHT BEFORE THE ANIMATORS-

15:37 Give us SHIP BAIT! GLORIOUS GLORIOUS SHIP BAIT!

Either way, Weiss who is absolutely DONE with being scared and apathetic does the ONLY logical thing one can do in this situation-

-SET SOME BITCHES ON FIRE! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH-their gonna toast up NICE with all that wood and alcohol there!

After pushing a belligerent Drunkle Qrow who EVENTUALLY notices the death monsters-

16:26 See that look? THAT is a combo look of both breaking from a plus 10 apathy enchantment AND instant sobriety!

Either way, everyone gets on the cart attached to Bumblebee and they get OUT OF THERE-

...rather...smoothly I gotta say! I mean what is that, 25 miles an hour? Bumblebee has a GOOD amount of horsepower for a motorcycle, wander why Yang had so much trouble trudging it through the snow earlier.

Everybody than says sorry for ever saying they’d want to quit the debatably futile mission of stopping an immortal witch, Maria gives final backstory on the apathy inducing monsters they fought being rounded up there by dumb-ass Bartleby who just didn’t want to pay Hunstmen and thought putting his friends and family into a state of constant apathy was a good idea, bla bla bla-TELL US WHAT WE ALL READY KNOW WOMAN!

Ruby: Ms Calavera, how do you know so much about the Grimm, and in the tunnels you know exactly what to say to make my eyes do that...how?

Maria: Well, isn’t it obvious girl...I had silver eyes!

BAM-a creepy as hell horror episode, more examples of Qrow’s drinking being a LEGIT problem, and SECRETS REVEALED in Maria being a Silver-eyes! DAMN what a good episode, hell the Apathy are almost as creepy as the Nuckaleave, and I LOVES the Nuckaleave!

Either way, fun episode, if you want to support my Patreon or Kofi just ask or message me, SEE YA NEXT WEEK ON MICKSTERECAPS!

[suit-lady]

Wait for Me (Part One)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You and Tom become close friends, but you start to fall in love with him.

Warnings: Swearing bc it’s me, you WILL be dissatisfied with where I left this, just being honest.

Word Count: 1777

A/N: Hello! This is a series I’m going to start, and don’t worry, I already have the entire thing planned out. No, that doesn’t mean that I know how many chapters the full thing will have. Either five or six probably. Unless I really draw stuff out. We shall see. But I just... I really like where this ended?? Like it just seems natural to stop it here... But there’s almost no romancing yet. Soz

Your hands trembled as you clung to the script you’d been given. As the packet was only a few pages, you switched hands often, wiping your free hand on your trousers, trying not to destroy the papers you knew you’d have to return once you’d said your lines. You took a deep breath. This wasn’t the first time you’d auditioned for anything; you could do this.

“Y/N, your acting partner is going to be Tom Holland. You’re in the same year; maybe you know each other?”

“Yeah, of course,” you said, nodding to the acting director and your longtime friend, Alice.

Great. Sure, you’d met Tom, and he was nice, and you were a fine actor, but come on. This was the guy that had gone to the BRIT School, the guy who starred in Billy Elliot, the guy from The Impossible that was nearly nominated for an Academy Award. Swallowing the lump that had started forming in your throat, you made your way over to him. You stuck your hand out to him in greeting, and he took it.

“Would you like to go over these, or do you wanna just wing it?” you asked, skipping the greeting.

“We can read through them once, I guess,” he responded with a smile.

After exchanging some weird lines about a crazy mother and some casserole, you sat silently next to each other. He was busily texting someone you couldn’t care less about, and you’d pulled out your maths homework that was due at the end of the week. Until your names were called, not a single word was exchanged. He seemed like a decent acting partner, you had to admit.

“Tom Holland, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), center stage please!”

You set your work down mid-derivative and wiped your hands on your trousers again before grabbing your script and following Tom onstage. No matter how many times you performed, auditions always made you nervous. You could never put your finger on why. After flashing a smile to Alice, you began reading your lines.

Although neither of you had put much effort into the initial read-through, the performance on stage was electric, the two characters so alive that Alice was applauding you both before Tom finished the final like. “Bravo,” she said after you bowed together, “as if I am surprised.”

“Oh, please, Alice,” you and Tom said at the same time, causing you both to laugh very awkwardly.

“You’re both free to go. Get out of here.” Alice shooed you both offstage with a smile.

You gathered up your homework and put it back into your bag. As you slid the straps onto your shoulders, you noticed that Tom had waited for you. You raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged. You shrugged back at him, and, together, you made your way out of the community theater. On the way to Tom’s car, you made light conversation, and you decided that acting with him wasn’t going to be so bad. You were afraid that he’d be stuck up about acting, being a former Billy and all, but he was actually incredibly down to earth. After dropping him off at his car, you walked home, as you lived close enough to the community theater to enjoy the late-October afternoon.

The next evening, Alice called you to tell you that you’d been casted as the lead opposite Tom.

-

You and Tom gave each other so much shit during rehearsals, as you were very fast to warm up to each other. After all, you were on stage together the majority of every rehearsal, as the pair of you had nearly two thousand lines to memorize put together. It was a competition to see who could go off book first (Tom) and who could get a scene perfect with no reprimands from Alice first (you). About a week after Tom went off book (you were a fucking day too late—there was just that one scene that you couldn’t stop jumbling the words), you earned the “(Y/N), that was wonderful! Deliver your lines like that every time from now on!” while Tom received a “Now, sweetheart, I told you not to…” You couldn’t keep the smug grin off your face, even when you were walking him out to his car later.

“So, like, can we hang out now?” he asked you out of the blue.

“What?”

“Are we friends? Have we had enough group interaction that we can hang out?”

You were completely taken aback by his question. “Why, yeah, I’d say so.”

He smiled widely at you. “Great! When d’you wanna hang out then?”

Shrugging, you said, “Well, I was gonna bake cookies tonight for a friend, and you can come help me if you want.”

“I would love to!” His smile only grew brighter.

After that, you spent many evenings after practice at the other’s homes, growing ever closer.

-

One evening, it was very snowy, and you’d already planned on staying over at Tom’s. He’d invited you for a movie night, and there had been some sort of unspoken agreement that you were invited to stay over afterwards. Snuggled up in all the extra blankets Tom had found around the house, you watched a few of your personal favorites as well as a few of Tom’s. Before either of you knew it, it was nearly three in the morning, and you were passing yawns back and forth like it was a game of catch.

“I guess it’s about time for bed, aye?” Tom covered his mouth with both hands to stifle another yawn.

Stretching, you replied, “Yeah, guess so.”

“So practice is at ten tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I was gonna set an alarm for nine.” You reached for your phone and clicked the home button, only for nothing to show up. “Oh fuck, it’s died.”

Tom hopped up. “Not to worry; I’m sure we have extra chargers around here somewhere.”

You rifled through your bag, cursing yourself for forgetting one of the most important things to pack for an overnight stay. For goodness’ sake, you’d remembered your own toothpaste, but you’d forgotten your fucking charger next to your bed. Nice going, (Y/N). Giving up, you flopped back down on the couch, listening to Tom shuffle around his room, muttering expletives just loud enough for you to hear. He came back eventually, his mouth contorted in a yikes face.

“Sam, that little fucker, took my extra one I had. I know it was him because he’s the only one who knows where I hid it. And he and Harry are off at their mate’s for the night, so I have no idea where any extras are.”

You rose to pat his shoulder. “It’s okay, really.”

“Well, sure, but we both have to be up early. I dunno about you, but I’m not a morning person, so I’m not great at waking people up or being woken up.”

Chuckling, you said, “Yeah, I’m the same way.”

“We could both use my phone? And sleep in here?” He shrugged, telling you he didn’t mind.

“I mean, we could… But there’s one couch.”

“No big deal! I’ll take the floor.”

He grabbed a little more than half the blankets and threw them on the floor before cocooning up in them. Frowning a little, you laid down on the couch and snuggled up in the blankets, watching Tom get comfortable. He got up after a bit, coming back with—you div—his charger. Before he could lie back down, you peeped up.

“Hey, uh, Tom.” Your voice came out much smaller than usual.

“What’s up?”

“The couch is pretty damn big, y’know.”

Tom’s short laugh seemed loud in comparison to your whispers. “So?”

“Don’t you think you’d be more comfortable…sleeping on the couch?”

“You mean, with you?”

You felt your face get hot incredibly fast. “Y-yeah. Y’know, it’s just a suggestion.”

“You don’t think that’d be weird?”

“Not if you don’t make it weird, you weirdo.”

Tom laughed again, but it was much closer this time. Gently, he laid down on top of you, then sandwiched himself between you and the couch. You both wriggled around until the blankets were nice and comfortable. Nice and warm, you snuggled into the blankets and—as you were very suddenly aware—into Tom. You held your breath, but he didn’t say anything about the fact that you two were basically spooning each other, so you kept your mouth shut as well.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Tom whispered awkwardly. “Is this okay?”

He very slowly, very carefully, laid his arm across your body, which you were sure was much more comfortable for him given the way you were lying. Trying to steady your heart rate, you assured him that it was fine. You focused more on keeping your breathing steady than actually trying to go to sleep, and you felt very tired when the alarm went off. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you were nearly positive that you hadn’t gotten much at all.

After that night, however, sleepovers were common. He stayed over at yours more often that you stayed at his because you lived in an apartment with a single roommate and he lived with his whole family. The first night he stayed over, though, you made it clear that sleeping over couldn’t be at all awkward ever. Then, neither of you had a problem snuggling up to the other in your bed.

-

One night—you really couldn’t remember when it was, Tom had come over after a rehearsal just to hang out with you and your roommate. The plan had been to work on a puzzle, but your roommate came back from work very frustrated, so it just turned into a night of chatting among the three of you. Hours upon hours passed, and you lost track of how many cups of tea you made. Before long, you were cuddled up to Tom (mostly because he was warm), and you couldn’t keep your eyes open. You fell asleep on his chest to the sound of his heartbeat. When he noticed you were sleeping, he bid your roommate goodnight and carried you off to your room.

“He’s a good one, that Holland,” your roommate told you the next morning after he’d left. “Don’t let that one go if you can help it.”

You brushed the comment off. “Oh, please, it’s not like that. He’s cute, but we’re friends.”

“Well, the blush on your face says otherwise.”

You didn’t know it then, but, when you looked back, you always pinned that night as the night you fell in love with him. Even though your brain hadn’t known it then, your heart was sure.

[notsugarandspice]

Not Here (Chapter 4)

Summary: Richard Tozier was living a rather ordinary life with his wife and child when something happened in the middle of the night, awakening something in him that was nowhere close to fear.

Pairings: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Warnings: Teen and Up Audiences, Mature Language

Alien! Eddie, Dad! Richie, Science Fiction, Mystery

Note: Read the rest on ao3.

Day 10: The alien meets Timmy.

Richie doesn’t know how to feel about the changes in his life. All he knows is that everything is suddenly… better? He wakes up extra early to tickle Timmy out of bed, cook him chocolate chip pancakes, and drive him to school. Richie picks out his clothes the night before, laying them down on the chair, and reads his son a story every night before he drifts off, smiling at the imagery of purple dinosaurs. Richie doesn’t talk to Rachel almost at all, and she seems more than content - everything is just as she likes it to be. She is unbothered, wakes up after Timmy goes to school and spends the entire day shopping or pampering. Richie doesn’t have the heart to tell Timmy this is not how a mother should behave.

E-D is a constant presence in his life. Every lunch break he returns home, quickly makes himself a sandwich and sits with the alien in the attic. Eddie shows him more clips of its world - the most beautiful, picturesque place in existence. With every touch of this wonderful creature, Richie feels like he’s becoming a better man, a better dad, and a better human being. He smiles at everyone, goes grocery shopping twice a week, and makes an effort to spend more time with his son. He finally voluntarily speaks to his co-workers, especially Ben. His childhood friend has been concerned over the toxic atmosphere in their household but figured it’s not his place to talk. They’re going through plastic-wear inventory when Hanscom finally decides to speak up.

“Rich?”

Richie looks up at him from the clipboard where he’s doing the count of their losses.

“I know it’s not my place to talk-“ Ben stops when he sees Richie roll his eyes.

“Not this again, Haystack.” He starts mouthing numbers again.

“Look, I love Timmy. I really, really do. I think you and Rachel should get a divorce.” Ben walks up a little closer, looking up at Richie with sympathetic dark greens.

Richie sighs in defeat. “Why didn’t I marry someone as sweet as you, Benny boy?”

Ben blushes and walks back to the shelf. “Maybe because you didn’t get me knocked up?”

“Ooooh, Haystack gets off a good one, ladies and gents!”

They continue the count for a while, the store long closed, but as the hours pass, Richie begins to worry that it might not be the best idea to leave his son alone with Rachel.

“Hey, let’s continue tomorrow. I kind of want to check on Timmy.” Ben nods and gets up from the floor where he was pulling out the boxes to confirm the stock.

“By the way, where do you disappear for lunch all the time?”

Richie stops dead in his tracks and tries to busy himself with stacking the papers on his desk. “Uuuh, just home. Rach doesn’t really do anything, and I need to come back to do the dishes sometimes.”

Ben grabs his messenger bag and a book from the desk on the other side of the office. As owner and manager, they decided to have adjacent space. Richie hates to be alone anyway, and Ben is a great companion to gossip with.

“What, every day?” Ben laughs earnestly. “And I thought I ate too much.” Hanscom walks back to check that all the lights in the store are off.

“What can I say, Timothy is a growing lad,” says Richie in a British accent, earning another loud guffaw from his best friend.

He makes a mental note to go to the bar with Ben one of these days. Maybe when I don’t have an extraterrestrial living in my attic. But the thought only makes him melancholy.

Richie switches on the alarm, and they quickly make their way out. They wave each other goodbye in the parking lot, get into the cars, roll down the windows and back up at the same time. It’s one of Richie’s favorite routines of the day.

Richie unlocks the door and instantly tenses at how quiet it is. Nobody is downstairs, and he can’t hear any commotion in the rest of the house. He quickly throws his brown leather messenger bag on the dining chair and makes his way up the stairs. Richie peaks into Timmy’s room - it’s not time to sleep yet, but it’s late enough that he usually just plays toys in his room. His son isn’t there. Richie walks to Rachel’s bedroom and knocks hard, knowing that it will be locked. It’s always locked.

After rapping his knuckles on the door for almost two minutes he finally gives up, putting the ear to the dark wooden door. Richie can hear Rachel’s croaky voice coming from the bathroom and the sounds of splashing water. He knows she’s drinking because she always drinks when she takes a bath. Fucking woman lives in a bathtub. He irritably punches the door with the tip of his shoe and strolls up another flight of stairs leading to the attic. Richie can feel his heart jackhammering against the ribs, and he doesn’t even want to think of possibilities that might unravel themselves as he gets to the top.

And, just like he suspected, his son is in the attic, actually floating below the ceiling with the alien, giggling and swirling in the air. Richie feels a wave of nausea overcome him from the overprotective feelings he has for Timmy and he runs up to stand right below him. His hands are shaking, and he can’t get a word out - he’s also terrified of scaring either one of them, so he just stands there as leverage for several seconds. When Timmy does another swirl, and his face is pointed down, he finally notices Richie.

“Daddy!” His tiny finger is pointing at Richie’s horror-stricken face.

The alien first smiles at the intruder but upon seeing Richie’s expression loses some of the glow, and its hands stop moving. It slowly gestures towards Timmy’s body and guides the small boy down, making him float right in front of Richie’s face. Richie instantly wraps his arms around his son, breathing in the scent of bubblegum shampoo. Timmy instinctively positions himself on his father’s hip. Richie can feel his eyes burning with tears a little, and he knows he’s overreacting, knows that the alien didn’t do anything wrong - that Rachel is at fault here. But he can’t help but feel that he needs to break this situation down somehow. For both his and his son’s sake.

“Buddy, what are you doing here?” Richie pulls his son back a little to look at his small beaming face.

“Mommy left when I asked her to play the railroad, and I was bored. I found him.” Timmy points his finger at the alien that just floats below the window, looking intently at the interaction between the two.

“You can’t tell your mom about Eddie, okay?”

Timmy furrows his brows in confusion. “Eddie? He told me he’s E-D… um…”

Richie smiles for the first time since he got into the house. “That’s its real name. But don’t you like Eddie more?”

Timmy looks up and grins at the alien who smiles back in return, some of the glow returning to the body. “Sure.”

“Buddy, you have to promise me you won’t tell mom about this.” Richie looks pointedly at his son and pokes him in the side to pay attention.

Timmy giggles and looks at his dad. “Why can’t mommy know?”

Shit. “Because Eddie is my guest, not your mother’s. She doesn’t need to know, okay?”

His son takes some time to answer, but he gives Richie a small smile after a while. “Okay, daddy.”

Richie beams and kisses Timmy’s cheek, making his son giggle. There’s something warm and happy stirring in Richie’s chest, and he feels happy. Content. He finally looks up to connect eyes with E-D. The alien seems hesitant at first but then a spark of gold appears in its eyes, and it descends, planting its feet on the wooden floor next to the pair.

“I’m sorry,” says E-D, the warm electric sound filling an otherwise empty space.

Richie’s lost in his thoughts for a while, thinking whether he needs to warn the alien not to communicate with his son. But Timmy is looking at him with pure fascination, and Eddie seems to be harmless, so he decides against reprimanding.

“You have nothing to feel sorry for. Timmy likes you.” Richie smiles and the alien mirrors his action.

“I like Timmy.” Eddie touches a hand to Timmy’s bare foot, making the small boy laugh. “I like Richie.” E-D touches the other hand to Richie’s shoulder, and he can feel the heat through two layers of fabric.

But the look that the alien gives him is different than one his son received - it’s pointed and secretive. It seems like it’s holding the secrets of the universe in those large eyes. Richie feels his entire body cover in goosebumps.

His son extends a hand, and the alien touches its fingers to the small palm, and Timmy instantly pulls it back, laughing. “Hot!” 

The two other join in on the laugh and Richie’s eyes get glued to the gold dancing below the alien’s black orbs. Their eyes connect in some giddy attraction that Richie can confidently say he’s never felt before. He walks a little closer and wraps another arm around the alien. He knows how odd this entire situation is, but he can’t find within himself to care. The alien is friendly, doesn’t hurt his kid, and makes his body feel like Jell-O in the best possible way. He squeezes all three of them together, but he can’t help a creeping fear wrap around his throat, making his heartbeat speed up. But what now?

[letsbitchyfestcollection]

You were a sixteen year-old high school student in Oklahoma when you wrote The Outsiders. Where did you get the idea for the story? I was actually fifteen when I first began it. It was the year I was sixteen and a junior in high school that I did the majority of the work (that year I made a D in creative writing). One day a friend of mine was walking home from school and these "nice" kids jumped out of a car and beat him up because they didn't like his being a greaser. This made me mad and I just went home and started pounding out a story about this boy who was beaten up while he was walking home from the movies--the beginning of The Outsiders. I was just something to let off steam. I didn't have any grand design. I just sat down and started writing it. I look back and I think it was totally written in my subconscious or something. S.E Hinton considering that nice kids usually not go around beating people up in real life so either your so called freind must of done samething that pissed of these so called nice kids and they attcaked your freind usually nice decent children don't just go around beating strangers up there must be more to this story about your freind being attcaked. Did you even witness this attcak or did you hear it as gossip around high school so without you being a witness to the events you don't know if your freind hasn't embellished facts maybe do same research before you strat writing a novel instead of just running of with your emotions. So was there a real-life Ponyboy? A real Johnny? Ponyboy's gang was inspired by a true-life gang, the members of which were very dear to me. Later, all the gang members I hung out with were sure they were in the book--but they aren't. I guess it's because these characters are really kind of universal without losing their individuality. Firstly a real greaser gangs wouldn't allow a girl to hang with them unless they were part of the gang themselves but maybe you got inspired by real greaser gangs just by observing them around the community so you base your charcters on real gresers but no of these real greasers are in the book so basically you as a writer could have made shit up and do you really thing real greasers would have been impressed with the way you were writing about them being cry babies and hugging one another and being melodramatic they properly laughed at you for writing them like this did you show your so called greasers freinds your writing i bet you didn't. How did you turn that inspiration for a story into such memorable characters? When I write, an interesting transformation takes place. I go from thinking about my narrator to being him. A lot of Ponyboy's thoughts are my thoughts. He's probably the closest I've come to putting myself into a character. He has a lot of freedom, true-blue friends, people he loves and who love him; the things that are important to him are the things that are important to me. I think Ponyboy and Soda and Darry come out better than the rest of them because they have their love for one another. So basically what your saying is that ponyboy is a self insert of yourself so you basically created a mary sue with your lead character well tell us samething we don't know boys are usually will have farmore freedom becouse it socially expectable unlike us girls who have to be protected from the world and we don't have as much freedom I should now I have an older brother who had way more free then me becouse he's 16 years old them myself and i was so caged in most of the time the backyard was my playground becouse it was safer then the park so you basically self inserted what you value instead of inserting samething diffrent in ponyboy like valuesin justice/freedom/honesty/intrgrity/ freedom of speech etc these far better values for teens to work towrads then I have amazing freinds sametimes your so called frinds are that amazing and can be increibly toxic. What were you like as a teenager? Were you a Greaser; a Soc? I was a tomboy--I played football, my close friends were guys. Fortunately, I was born without the need-to-belong gene, the gene that says you have to be in a little group to feel secure. I never wanted to be classified as anything, nor did I ever join anything for fear of losing my individuality. I didn't even realize that these guys, who were my good friends, were greasers until one day we were walking down the street and some guys came and yelled, "Greaser!" It's funny to look back at people you've know your whole life, to suddenly see them as everyone else sees them, with their slicked-back hair and cigarettes hanging out of their mouths and their black leather jackets, and respond, "My God, they're hoods." You knew them and they're not hoods, but they just look like hoods. I had friends on the rich side of town, too, and saw that they had their share of problems, also. so basically you were a loner and anti social and didn't want to get invloved in after school activities maybe becouse you didn't have any freinds. Nobody is born with a gene for belonging it the way your socalized within society/family/school etc didn't your mum drag you out of the bedroom and tell you you were going to be part of the family and you even said in an interview that your mother was abusive towards you maybe becouse you were anti social. And bullcrap you didn't know they were greasers. Did you really have freinds on the rich side of town even though you were a loner. I can tell you being at school with children who are assholes and i had toput up with there shit 5 days a week was enough i didn't want to hang out with these children after school as well or on the weekend or during school break either which was rather peaceful. How did you pursue getting The Outsiders published? When I wrote it I hadn't thought of getting it published. But at school one day I mentioned to a friend that I wrote, and her mother happened to write children's books. I gave her a copy of The Outsiders, and this woman showed it to a friend who had a New York agent. The agent liked it and sold it to the second publisher who read it. She has been my agent ever since. I received the contract from the publisher on graduation day! Well it seems like the novel didn't see an editor that why same of it doesn't sound beliverable and not providing any consequnces with your charcters it doesn't work like this in the real world. Firstly Ponyboy spiting at another person in same states it considered assult on a person then david drowning ponyboy he wouldn't have been charged under the law this is how stupid johnny is instead off holding bob off with the swith he had and try and get david to let pony go johnny had enough criminal motive enough to go after bob after bob attcaked him 4 months earlier if he had lived that would have been enough to convict the kid on murder instead of manslaughter becouse there is enough intent to cause injury or death. dally harbouring futatives running away from the law hrassing girls he would have been charged along with them and ponyboy wouldn't have gone to a boys home he would have been charged and been put in prison instead teenagers who have wagged school have been placed in jail man i wish authors who want to write about real life issues would go watch reasl documetries about teens in prison and see what they did to land up in there it doesn't take a lot to get into trouble and fuck your life up. What made you want to become a writer? The major influence on my writing has been my reading. When I was young, I read everything, including cereal boxes and coffee labels. Reading taught me sentence structure, paragraphing, how to build a chapter. Strangely enough, it never taught me spelling. I have always loved to write, almost as much as I love to read. I began goofing around with a typewriter when I was about twelve. I've always written about things that interest me, so my first years of writing (grades three through ten), I wrote about cowboys and horses. I wanted to be a cowboy and have a horse. Writing is easy for me because I never begain to write unless I have something to say. I'm a character writer. Some writers are plot writers...I have to begin with people. I always knew my characters, exactly what they look like, their birthdays, what they like for breakfast. It doesn't matter if these things appear in the book. I still have to know. I get ideas for characters from real people, but overall they are fictional; my characters exist only in my head. What books and authors inspire and influence you? Well, as an adult, I can pick out a lot of authors who have influenced me. My favorite authors are Jane Austen, Mary Renault, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Shirley Jackson. My favorite books are The Haunting of Hill House, Fire from Heaven, Emma, and Tender Is the Night. I like Kurt Vonnegut Jr.'s novels, but not his short stories, and the other way around for J.D. Salinger. But people want to know your childhood influences, and I'll have to say just books in general. I loved to read, and as soon as I learned how I was reading everything I could get my hands on. I was a horse nut, and Peanuts the Pony was the first book I ever checked out of the library. I still remember that book. The act of reading was so pleasurable for me. For an introverted kid, it's a means of communication, because you interact with the author even if you aren't sitting there conversing with her. Why do you use your initials instead of your full name? My publisher was afraid that the reviewers would assume a girl couldn't write a book like The Outsiders. Later, when my books became popular, I found I liked the privacy of having a "public" name and a private one, so it has worked out fine. Why didn;t you just go with your name becouse people are assumping a male wrote this but they read the novel and they can tell that a chick wrote it instead I was reading sweet valley high and baby sitters club way before the outsiders and these novels were flying of the selve with teens becouse they could relate to them. When it was first published, the realism of The Outsiders shocked a lot of reviewers, but readers embraced the book. Did that surprise you? No, I was pleased that people were shocked when The Outsiders came out. One of my reasons for writing it was that I wanted something realistic to be written about teenagers. At that time realistic teenage fiction didn't exist. If you didn't want to read Mary Jane Goes to the Prom and you were through with horse books, there was nothing to read. I just wanted to write something that dealt with what I saw kids really doing. Why do you think the book has remained so popular through the years? Every teenager feels that adults have no idea what's going on. That's exactly the way I felt when I wrote The Outsiders. Even today, the concept of the in-group and the out-group remains the same. The kids say, "Okay, this is like the Preppies and the Punks," or whatever they call themselves. The uniforms change, and the names of the groups change, but kids really grasp how similar their situations are to Ponyboy's. Some portions were quoted from "The Outsiders Conference & Readers Meet Author" from University of Utah's Top of the News, November 1968; "S.E. Hinton:On Writing and Tex" in Notes from Delacorte Press, Winter 1979/Spring 1980; "S.E. Hinton on Becoming a Writer" from teachers@random; "The Insider Outsider" in Interview, July 1999; and "Autobiographical Sketch" from the Educational Paperback Association. Powered by

[mermaidsirennikita]

February 2018 Book Roundup

I’d that this was a pretty diverse month for me in terms of reading.  Sure, there was plenty of my traditional fantasy in there, but I also went through a biography, some contemporary YA, a historical fiction novel about Eleanor Roosevelt, alt-history, and some very silly (but very enjoyable) contemporary romance.  My favorite book of the month was probably Purple Hearts, the conclusion of Michael Grant’s Front Lines trilogy--but I’d be lying if I said that one of those romance novels didn’t rival it.  Unfortunately, my least favorite book was that aforementioned Eleanor Roosevelt book.  But hey, I tried it.

Purple Hearts by Michael Grant.  4/5.  The final book in Grant’s Front Lines/Soldier Girls trilogy, Purple Hearts sees Silver Star recipients Rio, Rainy, and Frangie return to the European front in World War II.  Rio is battle-hardened and growing increasingly fearful--not of what she faces at war, but how she, a girl very good at soldiering, will adjust to life afterwards.  Rainy is undercover and subjected to horrors that have a deeply personal ring as she deals with the guilt of surviving, killing, and becoming even colder than she already was.  Frangie is struggling with her faith, saving many as a medic but losing more--in ways that she wouldn’t have imagined.  This series--a take on World War II with the premise that girls were allowed to enlist and be drafted in America--really was way better and far more realistic than it had a right to be.  There were clumsy moments, largely because Grant is (I assume) a guy trying to be as inclusive as possible.  But you know--even when certain scenes came off as a bit awkward, I appreciated the diversity.  And the fact is that you have different reasons to bond with each of our leads, and the people they care about.  I’ll always have a soft spot for Rio most of all, because she embodies that “naive innocent turned into a battle-hardened killer” character type I love so much.  But Frangie goes through so fucking much in this book (they all do, but Frangie seemed like such an optimist at first) and even Rainy, the heroine I had the most difficulty connecting with, finally opens up and becomes a fully-realized character.  “Purple Hearts” struck me as the most brutal book in the trilogy, and there are a lot of horrific scenes throughout.  But it was ultimately very satisfying, and a great end to the series.

Empress of the East by Leslie Peirce.  4/5.  Hurrem Sultan, also known as Roxelana, was the first woman in centuries to legally wed an Ottoman sultan, thus becoming an essential empress.  However, like any concubine, she began life as a slave before catching the eye of Suleyman the Magnificent and beginning one of history’s greatest love affairs--that would result in six children and a fundamental change in Ottoman politics.  Peirce has to make a lot of assumptions when writing this book--little is known about Hurrem, referred to by the name Roxelana in this biography.  But she sticks to accuracy whenever possible, and none of her assumptions are all that out there to me.  I’d call this more popular than academic history, but if you’re looking to get into the history of Hurrem and the Ottoman Empire, I think it’s a great start.

Shadowsong by S. Jae-Jones.  4/5.  Six months after leaving her husband, the Goblin King, behind in the Underground, Liesl is attempting to make something out of her life.  Yet her brother Josef, a gifted musician, hasn’t responded to any of her letters and she finds herself unable to compose.  After receiving a proposal from a mysterious benefactor, Liesl goes to further her career in Vienna, only to realize that the boundaries between our world and the Goblin King’s are deteriorating at an alarming rate, and something is seriously wrong with her brother.  Liesl must return to the Underground to figure out what’s going on--but can she do so without losing her sanity?  This book... is a lot.  It’s beautifully written, incredibly dark at points, and takes a pretty bold turn.  Liesl’s story in “Wintersong” was really of self-discovery and sexual awakening, whereas here the story revolves--fairy stuff aside--around her mental condition and her relationship with Josef.  Along with a bit of Goblin King backstory for good measure.  And for the most part, I’d say it’s successful.  Yes, there were points where I was like “honestly Liesl should probably do something rather than thinking about how bad shit is” but... “Wintersong” wasn’t a very plot-driven book either, so I can’t say that I felt that plot was meant to be a priority in the sequel.  It’s all sort of delightfully eerie and morally ambiguous, holdovers from “Wintersong”. But it was missing the Goblin King.  Again, I feel that this book was very ambitious and super interesting and enjoyable, but it was missing something that made me absolutely adore “Wintersong”.  And I’m not ashamed to admit that that something was the Goblin King and all the emo sex he had with Liesl.  There were definitely points where I almost felt like Jones was trying to push back against the fact that most of the praise surrounding “Wintersong” was around how hot her male “hero” (................ ish) was, but I’ve got to say that that story did seem a bit more effortless to read.  Basically, I wouldn’t change the plot of “Shadowsong”, I think it’s a really good book and followup, but I would add more Goblin King and I’m not ashamed to admit it.  Still, I really loved it and was overall satisfied with the book.

Immortal Reign by Morgan Rhodes.  4/5.  I’m not going to bother on a summary for this because it’s the conclusion to a 6 (?) book series that is all very convoluted.  Essentially, Immortal Reign takes all of the characters we’ve followed and concludes their stories in the expected ways, and while I wouldn’t say that the Falling Kingdoms series is good, exactly... it does what it came here to do.  It’s a very trope-y Game of Thrones for teens type thing with a feisty princess and a brooding dark prince at the center taking up the actual plot (which involves some elemental gods or whatever) with their arranged marriage angsty sexual tension shenanigans and honestly?  It’s fun.  All’s well that ends well.

Anatomy of a Scandal by Sarah Vaughan.  2/5.  Sophie, a cossetted politician’s wife, is shocked when her husband James revealed that he had an affair with a young employee.  James is charismatic and prominent, and though Sophie can believe that the affair happened, she doesn’t believe what comes next--the reveal that James allegedly raped the woman he was sleeping with.  Kate, an experienced lawyer, is ready to prosecute James, completely convinced of his guilt.  But which woman is right?  I honestly debated doing one or two stars here, and I think I went with two because I get what the author is going for.  But like... here’s the thing.  We know which woman is right.  We know from the start, especially after James’s perspective is introduced (side note: the way the POVs were handled seemed wonky).  I’m all about the issue of rape being handled in fiction, especially when we’re talking about charismatic politicians.  It’s very relevant.  But the thing is that there is room for doubt in some cases; a very, very small amount, sure.  However, there’s a reason why trials happen in rape cases.  (Unfortunately, those trials often don’t end as they should, but that’s another issue.)  There should have been doubt in a book that touted itself as a thriller, but all I got was preachiness and a “twist” that... did not... impress me.  Kate’s perspective was incredibly holier than thou--so even though I agreed with her beliefs, I felt like I was being *told* how to feel rather than convinced through the story or writing.  Like, obviously I should agree with everything Kate says.  Obviously.  Also, the writing just wasn’t great--slow and strange at times.  The descriptions of people were weird.  Like, way to take your novel about a feminist issue and describe the evil defense attorney in a way that is suggestive of her weight--she’s described as a “weighty” woman who “plumps” herself down.  Which... whatever.  Good idea, downright unintelligent and uninspired execution that probably would have been more interesting if we focused solely on Sophie’s point of view.

White Houses by Amy Bloom.  2/5.  Lorena Hickock tells the story of her decades-long love affair with first lady Eleanor Roosevelt.  Though American history has never been my jam, I was intrigued because the existence of Eleanor’s affair with “Hick” is debated to this day, despite a lot of evidence towards the fact that Eleanor was a) interested in women and b) in love with Hick, and vice versa.  And this should have been so interesting.  Not only is there the inherent interest factor of a first lady having an affair--and with another woman in the early twentieth century, at that--but Eleanor was a multi-dimensional, controversial woman married to a controversial man (who had plenty of affairs of his own).  But Amy Bloom’s writing style and characterization of Hick (who had a horrific childhood that was handled... I don’t know, rather coldly, by the writing style) just sucked the life out of everything.  I won’t say that there weren’t some pretty moments and I feel like the approach to depicting a long relationship was good, but this was too boring.

Let’s Talk About Love by Claire Kann.  3/5.  Alice has recently suffered yet another bad breakup--and the reason why her girlfriend dumped her is especially painful.  Biromantic and asexual, Alice struggles to communicate to her partners how she feels, and how her romantic attraction to them doesn’t mean that she experiences sexual attraction.  Right after proclaiming that she’s done with dating, Alice meets the handsome, kind Takumi, and is immediately head over heels.  But does she dare tell him about her feelings--and her sexuality?  This book was definitely hard for me to rate, because in all honesty...  I didn’t really like it.  I didn’t really hate it, either.  It was fine.  The representation is so important that I feel like I can’t not recommend it--Alice is black, biromantic, and asexual.  That’s huge.  I don’t know if the author is asexual or not--I know she’s black--so I can’t speak to how the book handles asexuality (another reason why I wasn’t sure how to rate it) but I did appreciate that race wasn’t ignored in the book.  The thing is that while Takumi was very cute, much of the book felt more like a Tumblr spiel than a story.  Alice has a right to have her feelings hurt by the fact that her girlfriend doesn’t want to be with her; but I also felt like the girlfriend was a bit demonized for wanting to feel sexually desired, and the fact is that... that’s okay.  Alice’s friends seem to say the right things a bit too often, especially considering how little the average person knows about asexuality.  Alice herself annoyed the shit out of me, for reasons that had nothing to do with her sexuality--she was just so fucking cutesy, and in all honesty I had a hard time believing that a girl her age thought the way she did.  It also felt as if that fed into the perception of ace people as these fairy-like unicorn types who love all things soft and cute, which...  I don’t know.  Maybe an ace person would read this and say otherwise.  I’m not ace, so I have no idea. Basically: good idea, not so sure about the execution, great rep.  Important, but perhaps a little too After School Special for me.

The Girl in the Tower by Katherine Arden.  3/5.  Following the events of The Bear and the Nightingale, Vasya is left with two choices: marry, or join a convent.  Spirited--and still being mentored on some level by the frost demon Morozko--Vasya is quickly gains the esteem of the Prince of Moscow after a battle with bandits.  But that leaves her disguising her gender, an d in more danger than ever before.  I remember liking The Bear and the Nightingale--but I’m not sure that it left a huge impression on me, because I felt like I was going into this book blind.  I remember the characters--it’s a big cast--but I wasn’t excited about anything but Vasya and Morozko.  I don’t know, it all came off as a bit slow to me.  Beautifully written and interesting, but slow.  I plan on giving it another shot at some point.

From Lukov with Love by Mariana Zapata.  4/5.  At twenty-six, Jasmine is past her prime as a figure skater, and her pairs partner’s abrupt departure has caused her to miss a season.  She should be thrilled to be asked to partner last-minute with Ivan Lukov, the current world champion--but Ivan is also her best friend’s older brother, and her arch nemesis since she was a teenager.  He’s arrogant and stuck-up; she’s got a chip on her shoulder.  It’s a romance novel.  We know what’s going to happen.  But this was one of the most fun love/hate romance novels I’ve read in a while.  Honestly, there’s nothing INCREDIBLY deep going on here--the stakes are relatively low, there aren’t any major obstacles or even a last minute shocking reveal~.  Ivan and Jasmine really just need to stop being assholes to each other and fucking skate.  Also, make out.  But it’s such a fun book.  Like, the writing is nothing spectacular--there’s some repetition and awkward descriptions--but the leads’ chemistry keeps it together and I pretty much wolfed the book down.

The Wall of Winnipeg and Me by Mariana Zapata.  3/5.  For two years, Vanessa has been the long-suffering personal, assistant of football star Aiden Graves, who acts as if she doesn’t exist.  Fed up with being taken for granted, Vanessa quits--only to have Aiden show up on her doorstep, asking her to marry him.  A Canadian, Aiden is in danger of having his visa expire, and the easiest way for him to stay in the U.S.--the only way he’ll accept--is through marriage, and Vanessa is the best potential (fake) wife.  After Aiden promises to pay off her student loans and buy her a house, she agrees--but can she keep her real feelings at bay?  Another cheesy but charming romance from Zapata, but this one I found a good bit less compelling.  It was likable, sure, but I didn’t feel the chemistry between Aiden and Vanessa on the same level that I did Ivan and Jasmine’s in the above book.  For that matter, while Aiden wasn’t as nasty to Vanessa as Ivan was to Jasmine--well, Jasmine dished it as well as she took it.  Vanessa, on the other hand, was just a doormat as Aiden had her wash his sheets, cook for him, basically handle everything an adult should handle... while acting like she didn’t exist.  It certainly diminished Aiden’s appeal, though I didn’t hate him.  Again, it was fun, but not nearly as good as From Lukov with Love.

[brightandunique]

Boku no Hero Academia Fiction Recommendation Master Post

I have decided my new favorite anime and its fandom deserves some appreciation. Every work I recommend are - in my personal opinion - beautiful and I want everyone to read them. If you see your work up here that’s cause I loved it to the moon and back! I welcome suggestions too!  

♥ - ultimate fav

★ - they do the do

(★) - implied sexual activities

ロ - unfinished

■ - finished

✿ - multi chapters

TodoDeku (Todoroki x Midoriya)

count your blessings, not your flaws by PitViperOfDoom  ♥ ■  

Sumary:  Midoriya Izuku has never been asked out, confessed to, or flirted with, except as a joke.

drink my thoughts by celestialfics  ■

Summary:  [02:13 AM] todoroki: Are you awake?

Gradations by Haurvatat  ★■ ✿

Summary:  U.A.'s Heroics Division's Class A was graduating. Moving on. Never coming back. And Izuku is going to be left behind, solidly trapped in a prison of his own making. There might be a few things that could make it more bearable, though.

it could be worse by bigspoonnoya  ♥ ■

Summary:  Todoroki is bad at presents, and worse at confessions.

It must be the heat by Sleeves  ■

Summary:  I wrote some silly fluff for Izuku's birthday. Happy bday, little hero egg!

Nerves of Ice by furihatachlookie  ♥ ■

Summary: Todoroki felt his own breath drop in temperature as the nerves settled in, steam rising with each steady exhale. He continued to stare, as if expecting the same to happen to Midoriya when he caught a whiff of cool mint as the boy spoke, face inches from his. In which Midoriya has a better grasp on the changes happening in Todoroki than Todoroki himself.

one string, fit for a bow by furihatachlookie  ♥ ■

Summary: There was no magical moment that played a part in Midoriya's realization that he liked Todoroki. The thin red string that greeted him every time he looked down at his hand was an obvious factor, yes, but it wasn't love at first sight either. It sorta just... happened over time.

project cupid by amoxicillings  ロ ✿

Summary:  In which Todoroki Shouto is trying to ask Midoriya out and the whole class is in on it.

Riddles in the Heart by PitViperOfDoom  ♥ ■ ✿

Summary: The law is clear: whoever correctly answers three riddles will marry the prince, while all who fail are to be executed. The people live in fear as more challengers try and fail, and the throne grows bloodier with every passing year. But a young prince, nameless and in exile from his home, believes there may be more to this brutal challenge than meets the eye. Of course, there's only one way to find out: ring the gong, and take the trial.

Summer Starts by PitViperOfDoom  ■ ✿

Summary:  It's been judged safe to send the students of UA home to their families for the first three weeks of summer, much to the relief of everyone whose name isn't Todoroki Shouto. Luckily, Midoriya has a solution for him, and Midoriya Inko has a lot of love to give.

Note: Part 6 of Send Endeavor to the Shadow Realm series. First part: Spring Cleaning

waterlogged (red blue, green) by lein  ■

Summary: Izuku has never been one to curse but the only way to describe himself as his mother hugs him goodbye that morning, is royally fucked.He’s really, truly glad no one in their class has a mind-reading quirk because from the minute his feet touched warm sand, his mind has been screaming in tune to the same famous classical overtures Tenya listens to when they study together. Occasionally, the music pauses just long enough for his brain to point out observations about Shouto that make Izuku want to stick his head under the waves and just breathe in.

prince & prince by Authorless  ♥ ★ ロ ✿

Summary:  Note to self: don't accidentally fall in love with a prince who's in an arranged marriage keeping your kingdoms from declaring war against each other. Especially when you're spying on him as his manservant.

Note: Part 1 of the kings & queens of promise series.

saltwater room by reapers  ■ ✿

Summary: It starts —like all ideas that inevitably lead to one’s downfall do— with something akin to this: Midoriya Izuku. Midoriya Izuku and a five-story house by the beach, completely devoid of any entry-fee --save for the one where Todoroki has to pretend to be Deku’s boyfriend. All-in-all though, not an awful price to pay for the vacation of their dreams, right? Right?

how would you feel by celestialfics  ♥ ■ ✿

Summary:  It’s Wednesday morning when Izuku’s mother texts him to remind him about his cousin’s wedding coming up the following weekend, and it’s Wednesday evening, when Izuku’s back in his room after classes and has time to call her, that she tells him she can’t go to the wedding with him.

One of “Those” by Ultimatum  ■

Summary: Todoroki and Midoriya are pro heroes. They're also dating.These two aspects clash when they're outed to the entire world as Japan's first officially gay heroes.

a burger and extra salty fries by SportsAnimeRuinedMyLife (KnightOfRage)  ■ 

Summary: In his third year at UA, Todoroki Shouto works in a burger place, catches on fire and falls in love. Only two of those things are on purpose. Or...Todoroki Shouto's exciting adventures in customer service.

Note: First part of the extra-salty/twitter-verse series! The next TodoDeku part of the series: get in loser, we’re going heroing

How to Be a Hero by Hummus King  ♥ ロ ✿

Summary:  Shouto Todoroki is a cold Pro Hero who never uses his fire side. He refuses to be like his father, Endeavor, but every day it seems like he's becoming more like him. Shouto meets up with Izuku Midoriya, a quirkless Pro Hero counselor and discovers that his power is his own. Also... he might be falling in love with his counselor. // AU where Deku never received One for All and became a quirk counselor instead!

that is just the way by celestialfics  ■

Summary: Shouto has his first sleepover.

the end of the world as you know it (and what comes after) by jambell  ■

Summary:  In the wake of All Might’s death, Izuku grieves. (Post-Graduation/Future Fic)

demolition lovers: beginnings by TMOTC  ロ ✿

Summary: It was a mistake, Shouto thinks, to fall in love with a hero. (Or the one where Todoroki is a Quirkless school nurse and Hero Deku’s longsuffering boyfriend.)

Note: Part 1 of the demolition lovers series.

KiriBaku (Kirishima x Bakugou) 

2am Knows All Secrets by Sarahhaley  ♥ (★) ロ ✿

Summary: … It wasn’t that he was annoyed. Okay, maybe he was a little annoyed, but that was just the lack of sleep talking. Because a certain explosive punk thought it was a good idea to test the flammability of his sheets at 2 in the morning. Every single morning. (In which Bakugou's quirk wakes Kirishima up, and Kirishima gets way too invested in his bro's well-being.)

a heart swelled to bursting by eggstasy  ★ ■ ✿

Summary:  The summer training camp of Bakugou's second year at UA descends upon him with all the untamed fury of- well, himself, honestly.

Communicate With Your Body by xX_KUUHAKU_Xx  ♥ ★ ロ ✿

Summary: "Hey! Wake up you piece of shit! Are you alive?!" The man winces and scrunches his face in pain but Bakugou continued to hold him in place. Good, he's alive- Piercing red eyes flutter open and gaze lazily straight at Bakugou's face and Bakugou feels his heart skip a beat. Oh, Fuck- AKA merman! Kirishima au

downhill by eggstasy  ■

Summary: Bakugou sleeping in the common areas like it’s no big deal seems to give everyone else permission to be just as bizarre, and little by little Kirishima starts learning things about his classmates he never knew.  

Love, Buried in the Ice by Tukson  ロ ✿

Summary:  Bakugou Katsuki and Kirishima Eijirou are paired together for a winter survival assignment! It's inevitable that the two clash, but neither of them could have predicted an accident at the height of their tension. Trapped in the wilderness at the mercy of the environment, how will the two cope with finding help and mending what was broken?

parted, and never parted by Authorless  ■

Summary:  Before going into battle, it’s only proper to make an offering to the god of war. But Kirishima’s run out of things to give. AKA God of War! Bakugou au

yes, you say you’d like to by Authorless  ♥ (★) ■

Summary: “You’re a popsicle biter, you fucking animal,” Bakugou says. “You’re not?” Kirishima says around a mouthful of ice cream. “No,” Bakugou says. “I prefer my teeth unfrozen, thanks.” He wraps his mouth around the popsicle and Kirishima realizes his mistake very, very quickly.

don’t count on me to let you know when by newamsterdam  ★■

Summary:  Kirishima has always made things easy for Bakugou. But that doesn't mean that Bakugou's gotten any better at these things, even after all of these years.

come @ me bro by SportsAnimeRuinedMyLife (KnightOfRage)  ■

Summary: Bakugou works at a convenience store, flirts like a loser, blows up nineteen aprons, gets a hashtag trending for all the wrong reasons and maybe manages to make a friend. Or...being Bakugou Katsuki is suffering.

Note: Part two of the extra-salty/twitter-verse series

it’s pouring out here by shizuumi151  ■

Summary: With phone, money, and keys in his pocket, Kirishima wandered around the city for an age. With his legs on auto-pilot his mind wandered too. To the new movie that peppered the streets in posters and trailers, a new move he wanted to practise for another basketball play, wondering about how the current arcs for his favourite manga would turn out in the next issue of Jump. And, of course, he thought about how many of those things he could see and do with Bakugou.

The Beauty of a Beast by starofjems   ロ ✿

Summary: Once upon a time a lonely beast lived in a manor deep in the forest. He dreamed of the day his true love appeared to break his curse... When a beauty finally appears in his life, it is not quite as he imagined. For who could have thought a beauty would be more of a beast. Or the beauty and the beast AU nobody asked for but here it is.

[utopianparadoxist]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dirk Strider.

See you again soon, everyone. 

Until then, Keep Rising.