#ill be honest I think this is a big part of why I’m fading out of furubawritercord atm

[red-elric]

I miss talking to ppl about fanfics we're all writing at the same time :(

[ships4you]

flames & deception {zuko}

Request: Heyoo!! Can I request a zuko x reader where Zuko and y/n get into a fight, and Zuko accidentally burns y/n? But instead of y/n getting mad at Zuko, y/n forgives him, kinda like the scene where Zuko and Iroh reunite? Ty!! ❤️❤️❤️(It can be either headcanon, imagine, whatever you’re the most comfortable with!) (*´ω｀*)

Pairing: Zuko x Earth Kingdom!Reader

Prompt: After setting Appa free Zuko has a nasty fever that leaves him sick in bed for days on end. While the reader is watching over a sleeping Zuko he has a nightmare, causing him to accidentally hurt the reader.

I’m such a sucker for againsty Zuko😻

“You know I saw a wanted poster for the blue spirit the other day.”

Lee ignored your comment, continuing to pace around his apartment above Mushi’s tea shop.

“You do know what that means, right? If someone spots you they’ll send guards after you. Or even worse; the Dai Li.”

You’ve been dating Lee for about two months now. Even though you didn’t know much about his past, he seemed to be very open and comfortable with you. A couple weeks into the relationship he told you about his evening excursions as the ‘Blue Spirit’. It never bothered you, but after climbing through your window one night all bloody and cut up from a fight, you couldn’t help but worry about your boyfriend.

“Do you hear what I’m saying?!” you raised your voice, annoyed at his I-could-care-less attitude. “Yes.” he responded dryly, slipping his swords into its sheath. You sighed and marched up to him, placing your hands on his chest. “Lee…” you said rubbing your thumbs in circles against his black skin-tight suit, “I just want you to be safe… Please, isn’t there another way?” you reached up to brush his hair out of his face. Before you could reach the black locks he grabbed your wrist tightly.

“You wouldn’t understand.” He lowered your wrist back down to your side, “I have to do this.”

This made you furious. “Oh of course!” you seethed through your teeth, “Of course I wouldn’t understand! You know not everything can be fixed with this little ‘hero’ act you have going on. Am I just not supposed to worry about you anymore?!” you yelled at him.

“Yes (y/n)! You don’t know me! You don’t know the things I’ve been through, the shitty things I have done. Hell, the shitty things I am going to do! You only care because you think I am this wounded, helpless creature, but guess what? I’m. Not. I’ve been on my own for years now and I don’t need you telling what I can and can’t do. When will you get it. I. Don’t. Need. You.”

He was now merely inches away from your face, eyes filled with fire. You weren’t sure when exactly the lump in your throat appeared, but you could feel soft, subtle tears sting against your cheeks. “Well. The next time you’re covered in cuts and bleeding out, don’t come to me.” you said before walking out, slamming the door behind you.

***

Three days after your big fight you received a letter in the mail.

Dearest (y/n),

I am afraid Lee has fallen extremely ill. He has been under my constant care for days, yet cannot seem to break his fever. I know my nephew hurt you, he often speaks out of fear— lashing out at those closest to him. I sincerely apologize on his behalf.

I need to go across town to fetch medicine to hopefully help his temperature go down. Would you be willing to come and sit with him for an hour or two? You are more than welcome to decline. Either way please come by the shop for a cup of tea soon. Seeing your beautiful smile warms my heart.

With all my love,

Mushi

As angry as you were, you knew how much he loved his nephew. You could not stand to break his heart. So, the next day you swallowed your pride and walked into the tea shop with your head held high.

He greeted you with open arms, as if nothing had happened. “He has been asleep for days,” Mushi explained leading you up the stairs to the apartment. “He just needs someone near to refill his water and keep a damp cloth a top his head. He will occasionally become restless in his sleep and thrash around a bit,” he said with sad eyes, “I will be back as soon as possible. Thank you (y/n). Your act of kindness is a gift from the spirits.” Resting your palm against his arm you said, “Mushi, you know I would do anything for you.” He smiled gratefully, bowing before leaving the room.

He looked so peaceful for the first few minutes, despite the small beads of sweat you noticed dripping down his face and chest. You made sure to switch out the damp rag with a new, cool one and refilled the bucket with fresh water. As you were putting the bucket down you noticed a worried expression stretch across his face. Before you knew it he began writhing back and forth, “Lee?” you knelt down and reached out to wake him up.

Before you could reach him, he quickly sat up and hurled his arm in your direction. You quickly jumped out of the way, and that’s when you noticed it. Fire ripping past your body. Your body was far enough, but you left hand that had come up to instinctively block your face was grazed by a stray flame. You yelped and squatted down to the floor, cradling your hand.

“(y/n)?”

You opened your hand, a slash across your palm already fading into a bright red.

“(y/n)… Please tell me I didn’t do that.” His eyes began filling up with tears.

His eyes were fearful. Terrified of what he had just done. Then the pain started to hit you. Panicking you ran to the bathroom, latching the door behind you. Your mind racing as you submerged your hand underneath the cool faucet.

Lee was a firebender.

He pounded on the door, “(y/n) please let me help you”

Was he a spy?

“Shit! I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me.” his voice cracked. It was obvious to tell he was crying.

No. Not a spy. Then why was a firebender in Ba Sing Se?

“don’t-hate-me, dont-hate-me, please just- fuck! I can’t lose you. I need you.”

“Is your name even Lee?” you felt your mouth move before you could think.

You heard him exhale through the sliding door. “No.”

You turned off the faucet, waiting for his explanation. “My name isn’t Lee. My real name is Zuko… Prince Zuko. My father- he. He is the Firelord. Two years ago he he burnt my face for speaking out against him.” he paused, “I was banished from the Fire Nation after that… My Uncle, Iroh and I have been on the run since I was 14. We came to Ba Sing Se to start over.”

You slid the door open. You were terrified to ask, but your heart needed to hear his answer “Have these last two months been one big lie? Is this… Us-” He stood in front of you eyes red from crying, his hair still damp with sweat. “No.” He said sternly, “Not you. Never with you.” His chest heaved as he spoke, “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I pushed you away. I am so sorry. I don’t deserve you.” he swiped his hand down his face, “I lied to you. I was stupid to let myself forget who I am, the kind of person I am. Being around you just made me feel… Normal. I was lost and confused and I used you. You have every right to hate me.”

“Zuko.” your lips testing the sound of his name. “I could never hate you.”

He sighed heavily. He walked up to you wrapping his arms around your middle, tucking his head into your neck. You curled your arms around his shoulders, embracing his head with your hand, stroking your fingers through his hair. You could feel his breath quicken, his tears damp against your clothes, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you.” your body tensed, “Please don’t leave me.” his voice whispered, muffled against your skin. Sliding your hands to his neck, you lifted his head from his chin. “I’m not going anywhere.” you reassured, hands now cupping the sides of his face, brushing the tears with your thumbs. “I love you too.”

He immediately pulled you into him, latching onto your lips. His hand slid up the length of your back, pressing your chest against his. You tilted your head downwards, resting your forehead against his. As he pulled away your hands fell to his chest. “Can I just say…” you sighed. He glance at you through his lashes, tightening his grip on your hip. “Yes. Anything.”

“I like your real name so much better than Lee.” you couldn’t help but giggle. He groaned throwing his head back, “Ugh, yea. My Uncle gave it to my as a joke. I got him back by calling him Mushi though.” You both shared a quick laugh.

“Yea I have to be honest, I had to hold myself back from moaning your name all those times. Lee is such an un-sexy name.” you joked, hooking your hands behind his back. He rolled his eyes jokingly, “I just told you I am the crowned Prince of the Fire Nation and that is what you take from it?!” You smiled giddily, “Mhmm, yup.”

“You are ridiculous.” He said before kissing you lightly. “Come on, I used to burn myself while training as a kid. I know a recipe to help it heal.” he said leading you to the kitchen.

***

Let me know if you guys want a part two, maybe a prequel or just more of this Earth Kingdom!Reader plot-line to carry throughout the storyline of the show. Maybe them reuniting on the outer walls with Iroh and the white Lotus or after the war is finished. Hope you guys liked this one <3

Tag List: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon​

[nonclassyparty]

ur really good at breaking hearts aren’t you ;-;

the series was so good, def a recommend. THE WAY YOU PORTRAYED EACH RELATIONSHIP WAS TOP NOTCH CUS LIKE THE WRITING WAS CHEFS KISS

ranting time :D

even if yunho apologized, i won’t forgive him for literally rebounding w y/n. like, your first LOVE??? a REBOUND??? WTF MAN. that’s fucked up, and i’m not taking any apologies cus that’s just not right. although at first they were like my otp for this series, that little illusion of a fantasy faded away so quickly after the rebound sex.

next up is yeosang. first of all, although he was a fuckboy, my bby didn’t get enough appearances throughout the story ;-;. i really wanted to see how he contributed to y/n throughout her life, but tbh he just seemed like a good fuck to her and she just left him cus y/n just didn’t want to become attached, which is understandable, but still, no mentions of yeo further on in the story??? :(

HONGJOONG. MY BOY. caught up in the classic at the grocery store. ILL GIVE YOU THE LOVE YOU NEED BBY ;-; honestly i felt bad cus of what he went through, and i felt like he genuinely liked y/n, but was a bit of a pussy to actually tell her, since it seemed like a fling if you think abt it. uk, going on a trip w friends, hooking up, developing some sort of an affectionate relationship only to come back and realize it was just a trip where it all happened. if hongjoong made a move, then i feel like they would’ve been a cute couple, since y/n did show some mixed signals at that time tbh.

seonghwa, you may be my ultimate bias, but never have i ever hated you so much in a fanfiction. AND AUTHOR I CANT BELIEVE YOU MADE ME HATE ON THE PARK SEONGHWA. ofc, that rich boy aura is what i mainly hated, but the fact that he went so shallow to degrade her like that?? man wtf. who r u to think that she’s just some basic bitch. maybe if you were genuinely interested and wanted to get to know her better, then you would’ve acc fuckin done things that she likes. she obviously said she doesn’t like the parties, so wHY TF R U FORCING HER TO GO. IN THAT MEANTIME YOU COULD LIKE WATCH HER FAVOURITE MOVIE TOGETHER OR SUCH IDK CUDDLE AND BE A COUPLE. But NOOOOOOOO MY FRIENDS THIS MY FRIENDS THAT 🙃. like man shut the actual fuck up cus i don’t give a flying fuck abt your rich snobby friends. but at least she got humbled so ig thanks for that…🤷‍♀️

WOOYOUNG. my GOD wooyoung. another otp, and i STILL stand by that. wooyoung did not deserve that, and ik you all agree. he gave her all she wanted, and so did she to him. and i get that the past events that happened to her might’ve made her paranoid. but i feel like the more mature thing to have done was like talk it out w him. she could’ve just told him that she feels like she’s boring to him or smth idk. remember y’all, the most important thing in a relationship is COMMUNICATION. if she actually VOICED OUT what she felt, then wooyoung would’ve definitely been a sweetheart and helped her out with her worries, and i feel like he would’ve been the best husband to her. but, life goes on, and i’m happy that he found another girl after y/n broke up with him. still salty abt it though >:(

choi jongho. definition: deeeefinitely a parasite in this series. don’t get me wrong, i love him sm, but like using y/n for grades n shit? (ignoring the fact that i’m lowkey forgetting what happened in the part). seokjin, my man, if i were in this story, i would’ve kissed you so many times. this man killed it, and i love how even the fuckin therapist couldn’t take y/n’s ‘but he’s my friend’ bullshit. so what? he’s your friend? fuck that shit i’d drop him the moment i realized he’s using me for notes. right then and there.

if i were to be honest, my toxic trait is loving someone too much to even have the strength to leave them, and if i were in y/n’s position, i would’ve stayed with mingi. which i know, is such a BIG red flag flying around IN MY FACE. mingi was such a sweetheart, and truly actually loved y/n, but the fact that he still went behind her back for NINE FUCKING MONTHS to FUCK HIS EX??? that’s a bit…ugh. moving on…

i would never rant abt choi san in this series, so i’m gonna praise him. but like imagine, the man who offered your first crush a blunt would be the very man you marry and have kids with. i find that so funny and sweet. i had a feeling from the beginning of the story that san would somehow play a major role in this series, and when he encouraged y/n to confess to yunho, i had a bit of a hunch, since he did seem a bit more playful and like kinda weird from then. when he yelled at jongho for talking shit abt y/n, i knew right then and there, yep he’s the one. he’s the one that y/n will marry.

but anyways in conclusion, i’m convinced that if y/n went lesbian, then this bullshit wouldn’t have happened. /j

woah, this message was a read thank you for the ranting time, i loved reading it but the part with san being the guy who offered her first crush a blunt ending up the guy she marries made me bust out in laughter bc i completely forgot about that 😭 😭

[jitterbugjive]

Something I wish more people would understand is how unhealthy and misguided I was in my early 20s. I came out of a life of mental and sexual abuse, for a bit I had a much older boyfriend than me that I didn’t realize until fairly recently was grooming me since I was 14. I was a hyper sexual teenager due to the exposure I had in childhood and I sought people out constantly to ERP with, even adults, without really thinking anything was wrong with that. I had an old friend who started running away from home to look for random adult men to sleep with so my understanding and feelings towards that kind of situation got all twisted and confused and I didn’t know how to help my friend. I had another friend who was pulled in to a 3 way by another minor and an adult, and the other minor was also the sort who actively looked for adult men who would be sick enough to sleep with her. And my best friend had a sister who was also exhibiting this behavior despite my friends’ many protests, because their mom didn’t give a single fuck about anything. I had an older babysitter, by older I mean in his 60s, who would bring up conversations about sex with me and show me porn on TV from when  I was 10-13. I was dealing with unchecked PTSD which made me overly reactive, prone to fits of anger and anxiety.

My point is, back then I didn’t have any kind of professional help or anywhere I could go for answers on things I didn’t understand or had a limited understanding of. When I ask the question ‘what do you do if a kid is seeking out adult sexual attention’ it’s not because I’m trying to blame kids for this, it’s because it scares me when kids are unknowingly, maybe even knowingly, exposing themselves to danger for whatever screwed up reason they may have. And no one wants to talk about that kind of situation, so I couldn’t find any answers. I couldn’t find an appropriate way to process my feelings on the matter, my understanding of it, the way I viewed it, I couldn’t find what the correct way to feel or deal with it was. Again, because no one wants to talk about it. With my naivety and personal experience, I at first held resentment towards kids like that, because I remember being put in danger because of them or they put my friends in danger, and those kids seemed very sure of their choices even when they were perfectly aware it was wrong. One of them I knew, even as an adult, didn’t ever think anything was wrong with what they did, they didn’t come with that regret you hear most people talking about. I regret the way I’ve reacted to these situations and I regret the way I phrased things when I was trying to come to terms with this issue that I’d been honestly traumatized by.

Another thing I didn’t understand in my early 20s was appropriate boundaries, because I wasn’t given appropriate boundaries as a kid I only knew one big basic thing: Don’t do anything sexually explicit with minors.

And when it came to RP, I thought that meant PG13 content was okay. I thought if there was a fade to black, or a time skip, or an implication, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. Now, there are literally only 2 instances I can think of where there was any sort of implication of sexual acts between characters with a minor, I still made sure nothing explicit was shown or explored and I was of the impression that I was just letting the other person have fun because that’s what they were in to. And that was a mistake. Not as big of a mistake as it could have been, mind you, but I’d never cross that line. I thought I had a good line drawn in the sand but I didn’t really understand where it was supposed to be. Because if we’re gonna be honest here, looking back I know now even romantic fluff RP between an adult and a minor isn’t okay, even if it’s through characters and not as ourselves.

I know now how much of an emotional impact RP can have on a person, considering most of my romantic relationships started with RP. When you have a character you deeply connect to interacting with someone else’s character, it’s really easy to start mistaking your character’s feelings for your own. You could believe because your characters get along so well that maybe the two of you can get along romantically too. I’m not saying that RP shouldn’t lead to romance, but that it can easily blind a person from how their RP partner really is. So it’s dangerous to RP with kids like this. I should know, my abusive ex that groomed me until I turned 18 in order to date me certainly had me convinced we were meant for each other just because our characters clicked and my character happened to be a representation of myself.

Something I’m really ashamed to admit as well is a serious misjudgement on my part, where for some reason I assumed bodily fluids weren’t NSFW. Probably because I’ve seen people get away with censoring out naughty bits but leaving the spunk in an image, or just drawing the character with spunk on them or something. Point is, people were getting away with it not being flagged as porn, and my dumb brain was like ‘okay so it’s not that bad’. I need to make something clear here, I don’t entirely remember what happened or why it happened, but it’s true that Bedeviled Derpy had a post that showed spunk in 2 of the images and it was drawn from some sketches of mine by a teenager. I don’t believe I would have requested such a thing, I certainly didn’t script it to say ‘draw spunk here’, in fact the sketches don’t show any indication of a mess anywhere. I just remember being given the finished images with the spunk being added, and I was dumb enough to think “oh yeah this is totally okay for a SFW blog” and my brain didn’t even register like ‘hello yes a child drew this maybe ask them to remove the spunk also spunk isn’t sfw or child friendly in any way shape or form’

Some people, maybe only a handful, or more, I don’t know, but some people have this assumption that my mindset in all of this was like “Hahaha I’m taking advantage of a minor” and that’s just... not it?

I’m a colossal dumbass, I admit that, and I was really irresponsible, but it was NOT because I had any intentions on preying on a child. I just don’t do that.

The things I said and did, I did out of ignorance, and most of the bad stuff people talk about me saying was from 5+ years ago, before I got any help, before I had anyone to walk me through these incredibly complex emotions and opinions that were ingrained in my head since childhood.

I just wish that people could see I had no malice or ill intent, I wish people could realize they’re way overthinking my actions and taking things a lot more personally than they were ever meant to be. Maybe if they could see this for what it is rather than assuming I’m a villain who purposefully did everything wrong, they could learn to move on in a healthy way.

I understand I did a lot of harm and there’s no undoing that.

But I do NOT deserve to be accused of pedophilia. Pedophilia has literally ruined my life and my perception of the world. I’m a victim too, and just because I became an adult doesn’t mean I suddenly know right from wrong. That’s not how becoming an adult works. You’re allowed to make mistakes as an adult, being an adult doesn’t mean you won’t make mistakes any more. Yes it’s easier to say to someone ‘you were just a kid, it was a mistake, you didn’t know any better’, but adults have a hard time knowing ‘any better’ too. We’re always growing and learning and I’d like to think people are smart enough to see that I have grown in to a better person.

I hope people can find it in their hearts to forgive me, but I fear some people are too far gone down the rabbit hole of being convinced that everything was on purpose and from malice, that I’m some evil mastermind who thrives on manipulation and taking advantage of kids. I’ve only ever associated with 2 minors since becoming an adult and I have no intention of associating with any more that aren’t directly connected to my family or my friends.

Anyone who actually knows me would know I have a 0 tolerance for IRL pedophilia, when I found out a member of one of my groups was showing nudes to minors he was immediately kicked out and I kept tabs on the situation to make sure he’d be caught by police. When a member in my server was exposed for ERP and orbiting with a minor, I kicked him out too.

I worry about kids to a point that it’s part of my PTSD, I have anxiety attacks just worrying about how a kid might be getting harmed, the last thing I want to do is bring harm to them.

And I did cause harm, I didn’t know that was what I was doing, but I did, because I wasn’t mature enough to understand how to interact with kids as an adult. And again, I’m just incredibly sorry things had to even come to this. I’m not lying when I say I think about this every single day, and sometimes spiral in to really bad anxiety because of it. It affects me heavily.

I want to move on.

And I want the people affected to move on too.

Because dwelling on this isn’t going to do anyone any good.

[crystalas]

Medical Muddles

Medical muddles

More of the Demon Bull Divorce AU, another one shot wherein Tang gets a phone call from a panicked Mei about an exploded truck and Red Son needing the hospital. Red Son blurts out a few secrets in the process…

also send me prompts if you want more of the Demon Bull Divorce

 Tang was sitting in his study at the university when he got the call from Mei, from what he managed to decipher from Mei’s panicked ramblings is that he needed to get to the garage and fast. Red Son and Mei had been working on the Noodle Truck while Pigsy and MK were at a Food Hygiene training course [she mentions something about installing a nitro and Tang made a note to tell Pigsy before he drove it again.] She had gotten a phone call from her dad and left the garage to answer it, luckily, she had managed to turn a corner when there was a massive explosion that shook the building besides her. She had found the truck’s fiery remains, a decimated garage and Red Son slumped against the far wall.

To be fair at this moment during the call Tang wasn’t that worried. He had seen Red Son take a jet bike to the face and only be temporarily stunned, heck he had seen on live TV the fire demon being ejected from a high speeding racing car onto the road and walk it off! Blunt force trauma was nothing the demon couldn’t handle. But Mei quickly swept away that peace of mind when she continued to tell him how Red Son had been impaled through the shoulder to the wall by a large piece of shrapnel. He told her to keep calm and wait for him and by no means call an ambulance!

By the time Tang had gotten there Mei was freaking out, she hadn’t mentioned the blood! It was splattered all around garage wall and the guilty piece of metal laid on the floor coated in it. Red Son was passed out and Mei was clinging to him trying to put pressure on the wound.

“Mei what happened? You know better than to remove objects from wounds like that!” Tang cried as he rushed over.

“It wasn’t me!” she squeaked as he checked him over “I was keeping him conscious when he just muttered something how he needed to get on with clearing this up and just yanked it out!”

Tang checked him over, he had cuts and scratches all over and the smaller ones where quickly healing, it was big ones that he was worried about. Red Son may have demonic healing abilities but even he could bleed out it seems.

“Help me get him into the car, we need to get him to Sandy’s” Tang declared as he tied the fabric Mei had been using tighter onto Red Son’s shoulder, the demon muttered something incoherent as they dragged him to Tang’s small city car.

“Hang on…Sandy’s?!” Mei asked “We need to get him to a hospital!”

“Trust me a hospital would only complicate things!” Tang declared as he drove off with Mei in the back with Red Son keeping him steady as Tang drove like a mad man through the streets, “He’s a demon remember? They don’t do well with purified water and saline would be the first thing they try and pump into him, not to mention blood types, physiology and all sort of other complications.”

Tang couldn’t help but remember the time Pigsy had cut himself badly while in the kitchen; if he remembered right Pigsy was trying to show off his vegetable dicing skills and it had gone very wrong with a deep gash on his hand. Tang had rushed him to A&E only for the nurse on duty to give him a look and told him that the veterinary clinic was two blocks away. This was twenty years ago mind you but it still put a bad taste in his mouth when he thought about it.

They got to Sandy who Mei had been called on the way there, he was ready and waiting for his patient when they skidded to a halt on the peer. Sandy wasted no time quickly tending to red Son’s wounds and applying medical balms and applying bandages and gauzes, giving Red Son a small cup of syrupy tea to help with the pain. Mei hovered close by and watched how Sandy worked with practised ease.

“Don’t worry Mei Red Son will be fine, he just needed a little help this time that’s all” Sandy declared once he was done “He’ll be up and about in…”

Red Son stirred and sat up groggily.

“Well right about now it seems” Sandy amended, Red Son looked around blearily before smiling at Tang and waving weakly.

“Heeeey Mr Tang…” he slurred “why do you smell like beetles and gold? And why does that make me hungry?”

“Red Son, how are you feeling?” Tang asked and sat in front of him who wobbled slightly as he tried to focus on the scholar before giving a happy smile.

“It’s so weird that you smell like that…oh hey Mr Tang, I feel fiiiiine!”

“Sandy? Is this normal?” Mei inquired looking at the gentle blue giant, he coughed nervously.

“I may have given him a bit too much pain relief…” he muttered.

“Dragon Horse girl!” Red Son cried happily and beckoned her over, “Great you’re here we need to get moving!” Red Son struggled to get up but failed due to his injuries.

“Red you need to keep still” Mei said gently as Tang pushed him back into the bed.

“No, no, no, no I need to get back to work on the truck!” Red Son declared “Pigsy can’t know I messed up; we need to fix it before he gets back!”

All three exchanged a look of disbelief, Red Son was pale and clearly not thinking straight. Mei knelt down in front of Red Son’s bedside so she could look him in the eye.

“Red the truck is totally trashed” she said slowly as if she was talking to a small child “there’s nothing we can do right now so why don’t you just rest for now…”

“Trashed? That means I need to work quicker!” he stated and wiggled out of bed but his legs gave out before he could even take a step and Mei caught him before he could collapse on the floor. “Maybe I could find a transmutation spell! I mean if noodle boy can do it with a stick I can do it with fire magic, Com’on dragon horse girl I need to get moving!”

“Red you nearly bled out, you need to rest!” she tried again but Red Son shook his head and was becoming distressed. Mei helped him back onto the bed but he just curled up gripping his hair with his good hand.

“I’m trying so hard this time!” he whimpered “I’m trying so hard and I’m still screwing up!”

“Red…”

“I can’t afford to mess up this time!” he cried out tears now pricking his eyes, “I have no where else to go! I don’t want to stop playing pretend!”

That last bit got the three’s attention and Tang could see Mei bristle angrily as she grabbed Red by the unharmed hand to get his attention.

“What do you mean ‘play pretend’?” she demanded, “This better not be some long con you and your parents cooked up to get us to lower our guard!”

“I wanna keep pretending that you guys like having me around” Red Son whimpered “I like it when you guys listen to me and pretend that I’m doing a good job…I know it’s only a matter time before you guys get sick of me and want me gone…I…I just don’t want that to end…I don’t want to go back to feeling alone and despised all the time…” at this Red Son broke down into tears. Mei’s suspicious anger dwindled away as she tried to console the now sobbing demon boy.

Tang glanced at Sandy who gestured at his kitchen, he gave a nod and Sandy went to go make some sleepy time tea. Tang was angrier at himself than anything now, he had hoped his experience with helping MK through his issues would have given him a sort of template to help Red Son through his. He had assumed that because Red Son hadn’t been showing any ill signs like MK had when helping him deal with his family and abandonment issues that Red Son was coping with it all. That clearly wasn’t the case and he now realised where he had made a very foolish mistake on his part.

MK had only a few years to build up his emotional walls and learn how to put on a façade, Red Son had centuries to work on his. After all it had taken him and Pigsy weeks to notice how much Red Son was reluctant to go home or the faded bruises.  

Sandy came back with the tea and handed it to Tang to give to Red Son so not to crowd the already upset boy, the poor demon looked up at him forlornly as he approached.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered “Please don’t hate me…”

“I don’t hate you Red Son, none of us do” he said tenderly as he gave him the tea to drink “I’m more upset by the fact it’s taken nothing short of you loosing a couple of pints of blood and being off your head on pain killers for you to be emotionally honest with us.”

“I’m sorry…I’ll try not to mess up anymore…” Red Son mumbled.

“Just drink this and try to rest, ok? We’ll talk more when you wake up.” Tang exclaimed Red Son downed the tea before flopping back onto the bed, his eyes fluttered shut and soon he was asleep.

 Red woke up slowly his shoulder hurting like a bitch along with other body parts. Red Son and pain were old acquaintances at this point so he took note of what might need attention as he tried to move his aching limbs; he attempted to recollect what happened.

He was working on the Noodle Truck; Mei was there he remembered that because they were discussing the logistics of installing a nitro into the truck. He was doing some routine maintenance while checking where improvements could be made when Mei got a phone call, he had begun to check the oil levels when he heard her answer the call.

“Hey dad! How’s things?”

That innocent question struck a chord in Red Son that made his heart clenched painfully and then he did something he hadn’t done in what seemed like centuries…he lost control of his powers. Before he could even think about it flames licked up around his body and normally that wouldn’t have been issue had he not been currently working near flammable liquids.

There was an explosion and he remembered being thrown against a wall from the blast, aching agony erupted down his spine followed by several sharp pains across his body the biggest one in his shoulder. His ears were ringing as he saw Mei rush up to him calling to him through what felt like walls of cotton wool. He saw the truck…oh god what a mess he needed to fix that before Pigsy saw it…he tried to get up and only then saw the large chunk of metal pinning him to the wall.

Mei tried to fight him as he grabbed the metal and tore it out, by the gods that hurt but he needed to get moving, there was work to be done and besides this wasn’t the first time he had done this. However, when he tried to cauterize the wound shut Mei was putting her hands over it with her jacket and getting in the way. He didn’t want to burn her by accident but she wouldn’t let go of him… he didn’t remember what happened after that because things got very fuzzy very quickly.

His last thoughts before he blacked out was that he needed to remember to grab a mop there was messy puddles splattered all over the place…

He finally opened his eyes and looked around and saw Pigsy sitting next to his bed, wait how did he get here? Oh crap Pigsy was here! He hadn’t fixed the truck!

Pigsy glanced down at him and noticed he was awake, Red Son felt his gaze burn into his skull.

“How you feeling?” the pig man asked gruffily “Heard you got hurt badly”

“I’m fine!” Red Son blurted “I’ll be up and moving in no time, don’t you worry demons heal fast…” he sat up and tried to move he wobbled but stayed up straight. “I’ll get back to work now okay?”

“Sit back down!” Pigsy barked and Red Son looked at him annoyed to be ordered around but saw that look of displeasure and sat back down. Cold dread now filled Red Son’s chest, he hadn’t fixed the truck he had left a huge mess and Pigsy was obviously mad at him. But if he was going to get punished then he was going to at least face it like the demon prince he was.

“My apologies, as soon as I am able I will repair the…” he started but Pigsy just glared at him even more angrily.

“You seriously think I’m worried about the truck?!” he snapped “Tang told me what happened! You had been skewered and nearly bled to death!”

“Oh…” Red Son stuttered.

“Don’t worry about the truck, MK has trashed and reassembled that thing so many times I’ve lost count.” he explained,

“So…you’re not mad?” Red Son ventured softly.

“Listen Red, I’m more upset about the fact that you are more concerned about a freaking hunk of junk than your own health!” he explained.

“So, I can stay?” came the quiet reply.

“You thought I was gonna chuck you out because of this? Red if I did that MK would have been out on his butt several times over!” Pigsy explained “What matters is that you’re ok, you really scared us there”

“You’re really not mad at me?” Red Son asked again, the idea that he wasn’t getting punished for this wasn’t quite sinking in yet.

“No, I’m not mad and I’m not going to kick you out or punish you or whatever else messed up thing you got cooked up in your head!” Pigsy declared “What we will be doing is talking about this idea you got that your place in this family is based solely on what work you can do, cos it ain’t! you’re a good kid Red you don’t need to keep proving your value, you need to be able to see that we care despite what you can or can’t do…”

Red Son was looking down at his fists that clench and unclenched at the blankets on the bed. Pigsy was worried for a second that none of that had sunk in and if anything he might have made things worse somehow until he heard a hoarse whisper.

“You said…This family…” Red Son repeated so quietly “I have a place in this family? You really want me around?”

“Yes!” he sighed happily and put his hand on Red Son’s arm. “Yes we do!”

[weneedglitter]

I went through @sunsetcurvecuddles ‘s whole touch-starved willie tag right before class and then wrote this instead of taking notes. Come get y’all soft willex content

read on AO3 here

The thing about being in a bad situation for a long time is that your body and mind go into survival mode. You learn what you can ask for, what you can expect, and cut down to only the most crucial systems. If you go without for long enough, you start to forget anything else was even an option.

The thing about leaving a bad situation is that it doesn’t take long for the unconscious parts of you to notice you’re safe and start making demands.

Willie never wanted for anything with Caleb. He had his skateboard, he had a place to live, he had plenty to eat. Sure, maybe he was a little lonely for companions his own age, but there were tons of people at the club willing to indulge his chatter. Caleb wasn’t the warmest person ever, but he was far from cruel to Willie.

It wasn’t until the mess with Julie’s band had opened Willie’s eyes to the lengths Caleb was willing to go to get what he wanted that Willie realized that “a little lonely” wasn’t the most appropriate term for his time at the club. The few days he spent with Alex shone brighter than the sun in his memory, and every day beside them became inky and lightless in contrast.

But Willie’s not there anymore. He’s still reeling from the knowledge that Alex came back for him, refused to leave him behind after the role, however well-meaning, that Willie had played in bringing the boys to Caleb.

Now every day has Alex, has Luke and Reggie and Flynn and the Molinas. They’re loud and gentle and indecorous and always take the time to make sure Willie’s comfortable.

They also give affection so freely Willie almost doesn’t recognize it for what it is. With Caleb, touching was a direction. If his hand landed on your shoulder, it meant you weren’t where you were supposed to be.

In retrospect, it makes sense why watching Julie drop an absent-minded kiss on Reggie’s temple in thanks for his help with her homework smacks Willie with a wave of yearning so intense he has to escape to the studio.

It doesn’t make sense, Willie thinks, sitting perched on the back of the couch. His new friends are a tactile bunch; it’s inescapable. He knows they’ve been giving him space to settle in, but they’ve welcomed him in with very literal open arms. He’s not starved for the high-fives and hand-holds and hugs they all give out like it’s as easy as breathing.

But he can’t stop replaying the tender press of Julie’s lips to Reggie’s hairline. He remembers the hug Alex gave him on the street the day of the Orpheum show and wraps his arms tightly around himself, trying to recall exactly how it felt.

Like the memory summoned him, Willie hears footsteps on the stone outside, and Alex slips through the door. Willie notes dazedly how at home he looks here.

Alex’s brow is furrowed. “Reg and Julie said you ran out in a hurry, is everything okay?”

“You know it, hot dog. Better now, though.” Willie’s voice doesn’t sound like he’s expecting, misses breezy by a mile and lands closer to desperate. He suddenly becomes aware that every muscle in his body is tense.

Alex raises both eyebrows. “Yeah, I buy that. What’s going on with you?”

Willie shrugs helplessly, or tries to. He’s still tense. “I guess I’m just realizing some stuff.”

“About… the club?” Alex asks, walking a little closer with his hands deep in his pockets. Willie nods, the out-loud acknowledgement that something’s wrong at all making the feeling stronger.

Alex steps up to sit on the back of the couch next to him, the same way the two of them sat on the bench the first day they met. Willie feels sick with how much he wants to lean into his side, rest his head on Alex’s shoulder, but he just wraps his arms tighter around himself. He feels like a coiled spring, muscles taut and ready to – to what? He doesn’t know. He wishes he could relax. His neck aches. He curls in on himself, pulling at the tight knots along his shoulderblades.

Alex moves to sling an arm around Willie, the way he does with the boys, the way Willie’s seen Reggie and Luke do more times than he can count, but Willie’s body registers the motion before his brain does and reacts without his permission. It’s not a flinch, just his muscles ratcheting impossibly tighter, but Alex still clocks it and freezes with his hand halfway through the space between them. His gaze is too intense, too searching, and Willie has to look away, tracing the floorboards with his eyes instead.

Alex slowly lowers his hand so it rests on the couch right beside Willie’s hip. If he moved his pinky an inch, it would make contact with the rough material of Willie’s shorts.

It’s not new. It’s not exciting. Alex is a very physical person, though Willie suspects it’s learned rather than natural. Willie has never been an exception to that rule; he can’t count how many times Alex has wrapped a hand around his arm to get his attention or bumped their knees together in silent communication.

It’s not new, and it’s not exciting, so it doesn’t make sense that Alex’s hand resting next to him has his blood rushing in his ears. He feels unsteady.

“What’s going on?” Alex repeats. Willie can’t seem to open his mouth to explain, but he doesn’t know what he would say even if he could. He doesn’t know what’s going on. “Shit, are you okay?”

Willie doesn’t want to say no, because he doesn’t know what’s wrong, doesn’t know why he’s not okay, but Alex must pick up on the tiniest shake of his head because he hops down from the back of the couch to plant one foot on the ground and the other knee on the cushions. His concern is growing. Willie turns his head to watch him move, stomach churning as he gets farther away but unable to reach for him. “Can I touch you?”

Willie nods vigorously before he can even think about it. Alex grips Willie’s upper arms, just above the elbow, and Willie shudders. His knees, which he didn’t realize were locked, go weak, and he slides uncontrolled down to the couch. Alex guides him to rest more securely on the cushions and sits next to him again, a little distance between them. Something in Willie aches.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asks. “And don’t try to say it’s nothing, it obviously isn’t.”

“Um,” Willie says. He doesn’t want Alex to think he’s ignoring him, but it feels like there’s big blank spaces in the part of his brain where words go. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Alex replies. He’s too far away, Willie thinks. It would be easy to reach out. Alex would wrap him up without hesitation. Willie doesn’t move.

“Fortunately, Julie has a checklist for this kind of thing, because she’s a queen,” Alex continues. Willie’s pretty sure he would laugh at that, usually, so he huffs out a breath between dry lips. Alex leans closer again; the motion makes Willie realize his gaze has drifted away from Alex’s face again, fixated on the faded screenprint on his tshirt instead. Willie tries to drag his eyes up, but only makes it as far as Alex’s cheekbone.

“Okay,” Alex mutters. “Are you hungry?” Willie shakes his head. “Thirsty? No, okay. Tired?” He’s definitely a little tired, but that’s not the problem. “Cold?”

Now that Alex says it, his skin feels uncomfortably prickly, like he could start shivering despite the warmth of the air and both arms still clamped around his middle. “Yeah, I think that’s it. I’m too cold.” His voice comes out remarkably steady for how shaky he feels.

“Alright!” Alex says, cheered to have an answer he can take action with. “See, you gotta take care of yourself.” Willie knows Alex is better when there’s a problem with a solution right in front of him, something he can busy his hands with and see results. He looks around the room and locates a pair of blankets, snatching them up from the armchair. He puts one aside and drapes the second around Willie, leaving one arm across Willie’s shoulders. The proximity is dizzying.

“Better?” Alex asks, leaving one arm across Willie’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” Willie gasps, like it was punched from him. Alex’s arm feels searingly hot even through the blanket and Willie’s shirt, his skin sensitive like the start of a fever. Maybe he really is getting sick. “Yeah, that’s better.”

It doesn’t feel better. It feels more, somehow.

Alex sees his ill-disguised discomfort and frowns, starting to pull away and give him space again. Willie almost sobs. A tiny noise escapes anyway, and Alex freezes for a second time. Then he slowly slides his arm back around Willie’s shoulders.

Willie is still so tense, it doesn’t surprise him when he starts trembling, minute shivers all over his body.

Alex wraps his other arm around Willie in a sideways hug. Willie’s teeth start chattering. “Wow,” Alex says, almost admiring, “You’re just all fucked up, huh?”

That makes Willie actually laugh a little. “I think you might be onto something there, hot dog.” He’s starting to feel lightheaded; there’s so much input, so many conflicting signals. He’s almost nauseous with how badly he wants to just slump into Alex’s embrace, let it be easy, leech off his body heat, but his muscles are wound taut on a winch outside of his control and everywhere Alex touches him it’s borderline painful.

He doesn’t know why this is happening. He doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t want Alex to leave.

Like the universe is reading his thoughts, trying to find the one clear desire he can form just to yank it away, Alex starts to pull back and climb off the couch. Willie makes a tiny aborted movement to reach out and hold on. Alex still picks up on it, though.

“Hey, I’m just gonna move us around, okay? Just trust me.”

“Of course,” Willie says, too honest through his chattering teeth.

Alex takes the blanket and directs Willie to lie down on his side, spine flush with the back of the couch. He drapes the first blanket over Willie’s legs, tucking him in industriously, then squeezes onto the couch next to him and spreads the second blanket over both of them.

He shifts around so he’s lying fully on his side, facing Willie, pressed together all along their fronts. Willie’s eyes are level with his collarbone. Willie can feel the heat coming off him, the little puffs of his breath against the top of his head. He thinks he’d be dizzy if he wasn’t lying down. With the couch and the blanket and Alex in front of him, taking up his whole field of view, he feels surrounded, held on all sides. It’s so warm. He’s still shivering, muscles still tightly drawn, but the warmth of the safe little cave Alex has made is soaking in.

Alex slips an arm over his side, hand resting on the bare skin of Willie’s lower back where his shirt is riding up. Willie’s whole body trembles involuntarily; it feels impossibly warm, like it should be burning him, like when Alex pulls his hand away it’ll leave a mark, whirls of his fingerprints left behind on Willie’s skin.

“Is this okay?” Alex whispers. Willie nods, not trusting himself to speak with the way his breath catches on each inhale. “Stop me if it’s too much, yeah? Just tap me or something.” Alex slides his hand further around Willie’s back, under his shirt, calluses rough against his skin. He pulls Willie in so they’re pressed even closer together.

Alex’s hand spans wide over his spine, sweeping softly up and down. “It’s okay.”

That’s what does it; the tension releases like a snapping rubber band and Willie melts into Alex’s touch, locked muscles relaxing to send him slumping into Alex’s chest. His knees bend and tangle with Alex’s, forehead resting against his sternum. Alex ducks his chin to press his lips against the top of Willie’s head. “There you go.”

Willie’s breath shudders, caught between his mouth and the thin material of Alex’s tshirt. He squeezes his eyes shut. His throat feels tight, tears stinging at his eyes.

“Is this helping?” Alex asks, always checking in.

“Uh-huh,” Willie chokes out.

Alex hums and keeps lightly rubbing Willie’s back until his breathing evens out a little. Then he says, tone thoughtful, “When I figured out I was gay, I stopped touching the guys for two months.”

Willie looks up in surprise. Alex continues, “Yeah, I know, seems impossible. I just stopped initiating anything, pulled away any time Reggie or Luke were doing their thing, and eventually they stopped trying.” He laughs a little. “It was actually Bobby who talked to me about it. He said I was making Reggie think he did something wrong and I had to either cut it out or have a real good excuse.”

“What did you do?”

“Went back to the studio and sat on them.” The image makes Willie laugh. “I think they figured it out though, cause when I came out the year after I couldn’t get them off me for a week.”

Willie nods. That sounds about right. “What’s the moral of this story?”

Alex taps at his back chastisingly. “Don’t let it get this bad again, okay? You can always ask. I would do anything for you.” The mirror of Willie’s own words makes tears prickle at his eyes again, and he nods.

“Wasn’t on purpose,” Willie tries to explain. “I didn’t get any – any contact at the club, but you’re all so touchy, it should be more than enough.”

“Your tank’s empty,” Alex says. “You’ve been running on fumes for a long time, and we’re still operating at ‘be normal around the new person’ levels. You need what you need, and I can – we can give that to you.”

Alex moves his hand to run even farther up Willie’s back, finding the base of his neck with his arm still pressed hot along his spine. It’s an awkward angle but he gently digs his knuckles into the abused muscles. Willie groans. “Oh my god.”

“God,” Alex echoes. “Seriously, why didn’t you say anything? How long have you been feeling like this?”

“I don’t know,” Willie repeats, truthfully. “I think… I’ve been all fucked up for so long I didn’t even notice anymore.”

Alex moves his knuckles in a steady circle. Willie’s eyes roll up in his head. “Hhholy shit.”

Alex laughs, brushing little strands of Willie’s hair aside with his fingertips. “Willie, can I wash your hair later?”

Just the idea knocks the breath right out of him. “I might actually die.”

Alex laughs, shaking Willie with how tightly they’re pressed together. “That’s all it takes, huh.”

“You know I’m a rulebreaker. I couldn’t stand a conventional death. Here lies Willie, his boyfriend played with his hair and his soul left his mortal body.”

Alex’s hand stills. “Boyfriend?”

Willie tenses for all of a second before Alex digs his thumb back into the base of Willie’s neck and he goes limp again. “I mean – I kind of thought – if you want –”

Alex cuts him off before he can work himself up. “Chill out, you sound like me.” There’s a weird note to his voice, and Willie is startled to realize that Alex is nervous. “Boyfriend, though. I’m, yeah, I’d like that.”

“You’re into that?” Willie asks, nearly teasing.

“I’m into you,” Alex says, and Willie has to press his face into the space between Alex’s body and the couch to hide his smile.

The thing about leaving a bad situation is that you start realizing just how much you’ve been missing out on. Willie, cocooned in Alex’s arms, is learning that the thing about landing in a great situation is that you don’t have to miss out anymore.

[anotherimaginethatblog]

Family Gatherings

Meet the parents.

Pairing: Kenny x reader

Warnings: small mention of something cheeky ... maybe more in part 2

Summary: you finally make the trip to meet Kenny’s family.

so i finally found the time to sit and write a little and this ended up being a lil longer than expected bit ive enjoyed writing this one, probably be a part two (possibly 3) so let me know what you think x 

hope you like it 

You were nervous, you had been since the day Kenny booked your airline ticket to Winnipeg so you could finally meet his family. You had heard all the stories about them, and they sounded lovely, but you were still, naturally nervous. Constant thoughts had flown through your head since the day you packed, what if they didn’t like you? Didn’t approve of you? you took another sip of your drink hoping the soothing flavour would relax you.

An hour later the pilot informed the plane full of weary passengers that the flight would be making its late arrival at the airport shortly, you began to gather your things up and pack them back into your designer backpack Kenny had bought you as a gift but couldn’t help thinking you’d made a mistake by bringing it, what if they thought you were showing off? Too gaudy? “breathe” you told yourself “it’ll be fine, they’ll love you” you said trying to boost your self-confidence.

“sorry mam, but would you mind stowing your bag? Were going to land soon that’s all” asked the kind stewardess who had given you that extra miniature off the drinks trolly earlier, probably due to the anxiety she saw on your face after striking up a conversation about why you’d be visiting Winnipeg in November.

“sure, sorry” you smiled back.

 Finally, After the stress of the queue at passport control, your bag coming off the plane last and trying to find your way out of the baggage hall altogether you were here. You grabbed your phone out of your bag to see a text from Kenny already, “waiting in the arrivals hall, ring me when your out” it read. You dialled his number and he picked up immediately, so quick he must have been waiting for you thought. “finally, you here yet?” he laughed.

“yeah, just got through, been a nightmare” you replied, “where you at?” you asked him.

“just at the coffee shop with my dad, well wait here for you. You’ll see it if you walk to the end”.

“okay babes see you in a sec” you replied before hanging up, instantly feeling nervous. His dad. You were going to meet his dad for the first time in an airport after hours of travel. Fantastic.

You saw Kenny straight away, those two-tone curls where recognisable anywhere. He looked relaxed and rested whilst he sat chatting to his dad unbeknown to you about how nervous he was for you to see his home and family. “what if she thinks I’m a huge loser once she’s seen I’m just a weird kid from Canada?” he asked his dad. His anxiety spiking in anticipation.

“she won’t, she sounds a great girl and clearly likes you so stop worrying.” His dad replied smiling at his son.

So deep in conversation they hadn’t seen you approach, “hey ken” you said, smiling from ear to ear at finally being reunited.

“babe, you look amazing, I missed you so much” said Kenny, words spilling out with a huge smile in his face as he looked you up and down, clearly appreciating the effort you had made. “this is my dad, (y/n)” he said stepping to the side to introduce the older gentleman who looked very much like his son.

“hi, I’m (y/n), I’m so happy to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you Kenny always talks about you” you replied any nerves melting away at how normal and nice he seemed, internally laughing at why you were so nervous in the first place.

“nice to meet you too, we’ve heard everything about you I’m so glad you managed to make it out. Big freeze on the way” he said. “let’s get home, before it’s too dark and your mother kills us for being late.” He laughed.

Kenny grabbed your bags and you both followed to the car as soon as you left the terminal you regretted your choice of coat. The leather jacket though warm was not enough to keep your heat against the cold Canadian weather “I told you to get a good coat (y/n)” said Kenny shaking his head at you.

“okay, I just thought you where exaggerating” you replied shivering.

“your so cute, its not far to walk” he said.

After realising Kenny’s definition of short walk was not the same as yours you reached the car and were incredibly grateful when his dad opened it for you so you could jump straight in. “thankyou” you told him while he cranked the heat up for you.

“no problem, its not a far drive either so well have you home and warm in a little while” he told you smiling at your lack of appreciation for the Canada winters.

 After a 40-minute drive you were at Kenny’s childhood home, it was just what you had imagined after hearing all of the stories from him about living in the suburbs as a kid. It was your classic suburban home with a lawn out front and a porch to sit on. It was actually really cute, you where excited to see inside. Kenny’s dad got out and left you two to make your way in, all of a sudden you where back to the nervous girl on the plane with the millions of questions about whether you where enough flooding your brain. All of a sudden Kenny planted his lips on yours and you snapped out of whatever you where thinking of immediately “they’re gonna love you, because I love you” he said. It was like he could read your mind and you kissed him back, you’d missed him so much in the time you’d been apart and if it wasn’t for being in his dads car outside his parents house you’d have climbed over and had him right there in the car. The moment was perfect for it … but the location was severely lacking. “we better get in the house before my mom sends my dad back out to get us” he smirked pulling away, clearly thinking the same thoughts you had been a few minutes prior.

“okay” you smiled back “lets go”.

 Once inside the house you felt relaxed all of a sudden, it felt like a home and all the stress you had had about the visit faded away. You took your coat and shoes off and followed Kenny into the kitchen where a beautiful blonde lady stood at the counter. “Tyson, and this must be (y/n). your so pretty” she said patting her son on the shoulder in an approving manor.

“thanks mom, I’m glas you two finally get to spend some time together. It’ll be nice to have the family all under one roof again.” He replied, with his mum giving you the once over.

“I’m so glad you’ve finally brought us a girl home, I thought you’d never setlle down to be honest” she said teasing her only son.

“mom” he said laughing back “I’m gonna take our stuff up, my room yeah?” he asked

“mhmm, and (y/n) across the hall” she said trying to gauge her sons reaction.

“your joking, I’m a grown man mom” said Kenny laughing trying to cover for the fact he’d been wanting to get you into bed since he’d seen you in the airport in those skin tight pants he loved so much.

“Its fine” you interjected not wanting to upset Kenny’s mum and to stop a fight over a room before you’d even settled in. “its fine, I totally respect that. We respect that don’t we ken” you said looking at him with pleading eyes to drop it.

“fine, its fine” he said turning to walk upstairs leaving His mum feeling guilty, though she would never admit it. Honestly she had no problem with the two of you sharing a room but who wants to hear the inevitable through thin walls on the first weekend of meeting your sons possible future wife.

“thankyou” she mouthed quietly to you smiling at how gracious and kind you had been at trying to avoid an awkward situation on your first meeting. You smiled back and followed Kenny upstairs to your room for the next few days. It was a gorgeous guest room, you dropped your bags off and crossed the hall to see Kenny in his childhood room. It was painted blue and like you expected there where wrestling and hockey pictures and posters all over the walls. “cute,” you said smiling at him

“its changed a little but not much” he said smiling back “my mom painted but put all my pictures back up” he laughed.

“that’s sweet, she probably wanted it to be the same for when you got back” you said.

“not that I ever got the chance much” Kenny sadly replied.

“she understood why though” you mentioned reassuringly with your arm on his back.

“you know, I never thought id get a hot girl in my room” he said laughing

“you still wont” you said getting up to go downstairs “come on lets go hang out” you laughed Kenny following reluctantly.

 you spent the rest of the evening chilling out in the kitchen, drinking wine with his mum while him and his dad watched sports on tv. “I’m glad I got to meet you” his mum said to you smiling

“me too, I’m so glad to finally meet everyone and happy for Kenny to spend some family time at home, he’s always on the road I’ve told him he needs to make more of an effort” his mum appreciating your words.

“yeah but he’s busy doing what he loves, I would never tear him away from that” she said laughing at him and his dad.

A few hours later it was time to head to bed, his mum and dad had called it a night a few hours earlier but you and Kenny had stayed up to chill and watch a little tv together. “I’m heading up babe” you said pecking him on the cheek

“okay babe me too then” he said getting up to turn everything off  before following you upstairs

You waited for him at the top of the stairs, pulling him into a hug “guess ill see you in the morning” you teased

“unless you wanna sneak over in a little bit” he teased

“Kenny … no, I don’t want to disrespect your mom” you said back shrugging.

“okay okay, can I at least get a hand job in the bathroom” he laughed  

“goodnight Kenny” you said turning to walk away.

After completing your evening routine you settled down for the night, it was hard to drift off knowing your man was just over the hall, who you had been dying to touch since before the last time you had said goodbye all those weeks ago. Eventually your eyes began to feel heavy and just as you where settling in for the night your phone began to buzz, straight away you knew who it was. – im lonely- it read, you rolled your eyes, it was gonna be along night.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Club Takamagahara (Part 1) Z

This is probably going to be the hardest to shove the MC into to be honest. But I think my premise is good, but let me know what you think!

MC sat on the edge of a mossy cliff that was covered in scrubby, grey grass. Rocks were patched with bright orange lichen that were splashed on like paint. The sea was blue with fresh melt water from the ice caps that defrosted, a pale blue that didn’t quite reflect the sky. You learned that it was the minerals from the earth that gave the sea this unique color. The breeze caressed your dark hair and drew it across your face.

You’re back in Black Swan Bay in midsummer. You feel that it should be night, but like the winter months were dark with the sun never rising, in summer, the sun never set and the sky was always bright. Most people would never understand how a place like this could be so familiar when for them it was like living on an alien planet, but for you, even though the sky was always brilliant in the summer, you could tell the time of day by the level of light in the sky, a technique acquired by someone who grew up with exposure to an eternal day.

You’re not alone. Boots crunched in the pea gravel and approached. They were black, and lined with fur and half covered with a long, black fur lined coat worn by a young man a few years younger than you. He sat down, stretching one leg in front of him and resting one arm on his knee.

He had dark hair like you, but his eyes were a bright gold in his pale face. You always thought they were beautiful eyes, but now you understood what they meant. He had dragon blood flowing in his veins. He turned to look at you.

You remembered him being reclusive, not talking to you much unless it was to exchange witty banter. He was relaxed, always smiling cryptically, never bothered by the nurses or the rules, but never really getting into any trouble either. He knew your name when you met despite never having met you before. He reached up and brushed your hair back with one gloved hand to tuck it behind your ear.

Your expression goes deadpan. “I’m not dead, am I, Z.”

The golden eyed boy’s expression reflects surprise and then breaks into a hearty laugh. He covers his face with one hand while you watch him try to get control of himself, a warm feeling spreading in your chest that teases a smile out of you. 

Z finally stopped laughing and sighed wistfully, looking out over the ocean. “I missed you.”

He turned to you again with a look that was affectionate but calculating, like he was holding in a secret but barely. “No, you’re not dead.”

Your smile fades and you turn back to the ocean. “Why not?”

Z reached to one side of him and lifted a thick book in black leather. On the cover, a golden cross was embossed on it, but the cross didn’t look like a crucifix. Instead, it appeared to be on fire, with the flames appearing to be like a dragon’s wings. Z lifted the golden ribbon that marked a spot near the beginning.

He read from the book, his voice rose over the wind and the crashing waves. “And in very deed for this cause have I raised thee up, for to show in thee my power…”

“You’re doing this?” 

Z clapped the book shut and it vanished in a haze of golden dust. “I can’t explain everything. The pieces are not in place yet and it won’t make any sense to you. You won’t understand until the very end. That said, I can’t do everything. You had a very close call. So I wanted to warn you not to be too reckless.”

You sit up straight. “You’re alive? Where are you, Z?”

“I am alive but… Like I said, you won’t understand. Just be more careful. Alright?” He’s staring at you seriously. Back in Black Swan Bay, most people ignored his existence, but you felt he was calling you, drawing you to him for some unknown reason. At times, he would just appear next to you, like he was following you around like a ghost. And now you feel lost in those eyes once again in this strange dream world.

“Okay. I promise.”

“Promises are meaningless.” He shook his head. “Just do it.”

You nod again. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“One more, hurry.”

“Why me of all people? Why not Renata or Vera? Or Anton or...”

“Because you were the strongest … second to Renata.” The world started to go dark, like a curtain was falling over the sea, the rocks and the grass. The wind grew still and you felt a bit stuffy and tired. Soon all you could see were those golden eyes.

“And well… you make me laugh.”

You relax into the darkness and for a moment your mind goes blank. But then your mind revives again. “...was that a Roger Rabbit reference?”

“Dammit, MC! Wake up!” He says in a harsh whisper.

Your eyes open wide. Lu Mingfei - not Z - is leaning over your head, appearing upside down in your view, arms on either side of your face. You blink wearily. “Mingfei?” Your voice is hoarse coming out a dry and scratchy throat. 

He puts one finger to your lips. “Shhh… You’ve got to stay quiet. No one knows you’re here!” He’s wearing very fancy clothes, the type of suits you see in photos of weddings and official events from magazines that depict life in Moscow. A black suit, a button down shirt with a stiff collar. Diamond studded earrings were in his ears. His hair was swept back and gelled. "If you keep moaning like that you'll get discovered! The walls are very thin and if you’re discovered we’ll be in BIG trouble!" Lu Mingfei was indeed keeping his whisper very quiet.

You’re surrounded by walls on all sides of you, made of dark wood paneling and covered by shelving from floor to ceiling. Your bed takes up the rest of the space. In fact, Mingfei is leaning over you like this because he can’t squeeze his legs between the narrow space between the bed and those shelves. As you look up at him, you can’t help but notice Mingfei’s resemblance to Z. Perhaps if Z had grown older and been able to eat more, he would have grown as tall as Mingfei.

You examine the curve of his eyes and the lift of his nose and squint. You didn’t notice this before because Mingfei does look different, he talks differently, and he acts differently. He doesn’t give off Z’s mysterious, mischievous, and dangerous aura. Z always looked like he had something up his sleeve. It could be good or bad and you didn’t know until you had it in your hand. The way he talked made you want to know however.

Lu Mingfei always looked fearful, reactionary and caught off guard. If Z was the prankster, Lu Mingfei was the pranked. So it was no wonder that you never noticed the physical similarities between someone so different until you woke up from one face to another face.

He sighed, hanging his head. When he looked up again, deep concern was reflected in his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re alright. I seriously thought you were a goner.. If we hadn’t been picked up and taken somewhere they had a nice kit, you probably would have died out there on the street.”

He lifted your hand. A clear IV tube was running from it to a bag of fluid hanging from a hook nailed into one of the shelves. “Where am I?”

“I.. '' Lu Mingfei’s lips pulled down and he looked ill. “Ugh. It’s better you see for yourself. I don't even know how to begin.”

“Caesar?”

“Oh, he’s fine. And so is Senpai. I’m the one suffering here!” He whispered, casting his eyes to one side bitterly. 

He held a clean cloth to your hand, and removed the IV and bandaged it. “I’ll give you the rundown of the situation because we’re seriously up a creek. The Hydras are labeling us as dangerous foreign terrorists, gangsters, and everything else under the sun. They’re running the news to look out for us 24/7. If we show our faces anywhere we are absolutely doomed. They have the whole country after us. We can’t use any credit cards, we’ve lost contact with the college and as soon as we try to get into contact with them, Kaguya is on us like a ton of bricks.”

Ton of bricks. The phrase reminds you of the fact that you managed to get a bootleg copy of “Who Framed Roger Rabbit'' and watched it over and over on a TV hidden in a shed. If you could get your chores done quickly, you could watch the movie there without being noticed. “Mingfei… have you ever seen ‘Who Framed Roger Rabbit?’ Do you like it?”

“What? Are you feverish?” He put one hand to your forehead. “Please try to focus! This is important! None of us can touch the network because we’re traceable. Except you!”

“Me?”

“Yes. You’re the only one of us with zero internet presence. You’ve never had so much as an email. Almost all the information on you is held by EVA and not even Kaguya can breach her system so you’re more likely to be able to log in and find some way to contact the College without getting caught, so we need you to stay safe. Got it?”

“Yes, Senpai. I understand.” You nod. Z’s warning to you in a dream seemed even more relevant now. He was protecting you by some form of mystic way, but the danger now was so great that even he had to warn you to be careful. 

Mingfei stared at your deferential response in shock. “Are you sure you’re alright? I expected you to sneer at me.”

“It’s just… you remind me of someone else just now.” You whisper, you lower your eyes. “I’m sorry if I made trouble with you. I had to do it. I’m glad you’re okay. I’m glad everyone’s okay.”

Mingfei took a deep breath. “We’re all grateful for you too, MC. So don’t worry about anything. Senpai told the boss about what you did in the Trieste. He owes you twice now. There’s no way he’d rat you out in the reports. You’re fine with everyone, okay?”

“Even Zihang?”

“Zihang doesn’t take anything personal.”

There’s a stiff knock on a door beyond the closet. “Little Sakura! You’re needed on the floor!”

Mingfei turned around, his voice squeaking loudly. “Coming!”  He turned back to you. “Okay, can you walk?”

He helped you up out of bed. You were wearing a thin nightgown and your feet were a bit wobbly but you could stand on your own. 

“Good, Caesar prepped some clothes for you, but I suggest you stay down here for now. I have to go back to work.”

“Work?”

More knocking. “Little Sakura?”

“Why are they calling you that?” You whisper. 

Lu Mingfei growled low. “Why is my life so terrible all the time? I don’t know!” He returned his eyes to you. “Stay here okay? The Boss will be back once his shift is over.”

He hurried out of the closet. You notice he’s wearing some sort of shiny loafers. The type worn without socks. 

You hear a sliding door open and then shut and then the murmur of a television. Once you were sure everything was quiet, save the very muffled beat of music somewhere above the ceiling, you venture out. 

You peer out from the closet into what looked like a bathroom with wood paneled walls and a tiled floor. Three barrels with metal bottoms were suspended over wood fired stoves. A shower was in one corner. The TV in the other corner was on, likely to mask any noise you might have made while you were unconscious. A woman was sitting behind a desk, speaking Japanese, dressed in smart business attire. It looked like a newsreel of the destruction of Chizuru -- the wrecked streets, the firetrucks and the body bags. 

You start to think maybe you overdid things a bit. Your eyes scan over the date. You’ve been out cold for 3 whole days.

On top of the TV was a small comb that looked to be made of real ivory and adorned with a blue jeweled flower. Underneath was an envelope with your name on it. Inside the envelope was a note. “I hope the offer of lessons over sake still stands.”

You smile. Of course it did.

Hanging behind the TV was another cheongsam, this time, silver and blue with embroidery of flowers. There’s also fishnet stockings and a pair of blue heels. You take the dress off the rack and step into the shower. Once you were dressed you listened hard to the sounds outside the hall and heard footsteps. 

Another knock. And there’s a shouted warning before the door slides open. A short old woman is holding a mop and walks by you as you press yourself to the wall. She’s pulling a pile of logs on a cart. Her ears are stuffed with earbuds and she’s so focused on her work that she walks right by you on the way to the rack where the wood for the stove is held. 

Heart racing, you dash out the door.

Outside is a European style promenade, completely different decor, but with the same level of luxury. The floor was covered with golden teak wood. The walls were covered with paintings of naked young people drawing water from a well. The ceiling hung with crystal chandeliers, one after another.

“Wow.” You whisper.

At the end of the corridor was an elevator with wooden doors inlaid with swirling bronze motifs of ferns. You’re supposed to stay put, but so much for that! You probably couldn’t be seen out in the hall! You pressed the only button available on the elevator - Up - and school your face cool to pretend you belong there.

Already a story is in your head, you’re an heiress to a fabulous estate. You’re orphaned at a young age and just gained your freedom to escape your stuffy household! As the elevator rises, the sound of the bassline of the music gets stronger and stronger.

Your mind is still writing your backstory when the wooden doors part and you’re hit by the bass line full force. The heat from hundreds of bouncing and gyrating bodies rushes into the elevator. Right in front of you, a man is holding up a flute of that golden sparkling liquor - Champagne. His shirt has puffy sleeves and open to reveal dark curly hairs on his muscular chest. He’s surrounded by three women in colorful half masks who are climbing on him, grabbing his hands to get at the champagne. They were all wearing skin tight, sleeveless, low cut dresses and dangerously high stiletto heels that made your demure blue cheongsam look like a formal maid’s outfit in comparison.

“Ladies! Ladies! One at a time!” He’s shouting with a brilliant smile. One of the girls bares her teeth as if she were trying to bite him and you move away.

A crowd of people, women outnumbering men 10 to 1, were all dancing in front of a brightly lit stage that was smoking with dry-ice that poured over the edge.

The elevator doors start to close and you slip out, looking for Lu Mingfei - that is, Little Sakura. Everywhere is more of the same. There’s a circular couch where drunk women were reclining over another man while holding out money for passing waiters who seem to know what it meant. They took the cash from their delicate painted fingers and passed them another bottle of liquor in exchange. All of the women turned, shook and then uncorked the bottle, spraying the Champagne in the air! It all fell in a shower while they laughed and squealed with glee!

You take a breath. You were going to stand out like a sore thumb unless you did something right now. The beat of the music was jarring your rib cage but people were bouncing to it while shouting on the stage. “Ukyo! Ukyo! Ukyo!”

You had no idea what Ukyo meant so you do the same all the while looking for any sign of Mingfei in this scene and realizing he might not even be on this floor.

“Who wants glitter?!” Someone shouts next to you. A man with a bowl of silver glitter holds it up while people stuff money in his low cut shirt and press their hands into the bowl to turn around and smash it into the sweaty chest of another man, leaving their marks on him. Your mind makes a leap to a story you heard about human and animal sacrifices in Satanism and wondering if that was what was going to happen next.

You also realize you don’t have any money. Your voice is trained by terrible punishment to be quiet so you can only let out a weak little “Woo..” and “Yay… Ukyou” while your eyes search the crowd.

What happened next was that the music suddenly ended and the sound of a Asian music, something you might hear played in a period drama, replaced it. Rather than being subdued, the crowd flooded the quiet with screams so loud your ears rattled and you had to fight to keep your hands from covering them and stand out as an outsider. 

The curtain opened and there stood a lone figure on the stage. The lights all went out, leaving a single spotlight descending to illuminate him. He’s in a white cloak with flowy sleeves, with a blue hakama and long hair that covers half his face. Cherry blossoms blow from an unseen fan, fluttering his sleeves in the wind.

[kaminobiwan]

in sickness and health

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x jedi!reader

summary: Confined to a day in bed, Obi-Wan is enlisted to keep you company. Featuring mild spoonfeeding I make no apologies

a/n: First off, THANK YOU FOR 300 FOLLOWERS! WOW oh my goodness that happened so fast. I’m still working through the prompts from my 175/200 follower celebration (of which this is a part of), and I can’t wait to figure out a way to celebrate this milestone as well! I’m so grateful to all of the support and love I’ve gotten so far; your kindness and readership means the world to me, and I’m so glad to share my stories with you :-) Without any further ado, here is the return of Padawan!Obi....and if you’d like to join his fanclub, might I direct you to my co-president @highlycommendable lovely dove

Before I forget, taglist masterlist all that shite. Enjoy my bubs

On his way back to the dormitories after an early morning meditation session, Obi-Wan hears arguing.

Though it’s not uncommon to hear discord in the wing of the temple where the Padawans make their residence, it isn’t the usual ruckus of Quin and Kit wrestling, or Shaak Ti demanding to know who had taken her Akul-tooth headdress again.

This time, it’s the voice of a Master filling the halls, berating his student with fond persistence.

“Padawan, my word is final.” Obi-Wan turns the corner as Plo Koon raises a talon at a figure huddled in blankets in the doorway. “You are too ill to travel.”

“But I’m almost better! And Shaak’s told me so much about the Togruta, and I want to see how big of an Akul she’s killed!” He recognizes the protests coming from your distinct yet muddled voice, and his vision confirms his guess as you come into sight, fabric draping across your body like a spirit. “I promise I’m fine, Master, please!”

Despite his mouth being completely covered by his breathing mask, Obi-Wan can almost detect the makings of a smile across the Jedi’s features. “The healers were adamant, my student. You’re to rest one more day. Perhaps, instead of stories of Akul, you can detail our sightings of the neebray mantas to your peers. I assure you, they are much bigger than any Akul you hope to see.” Abruptly, he turns to Obi-Wan in a way that makes him think the Master had sensed his presence long before he’d approached. “Padawan Kenobi, if you’re not terribly occupied, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Obi-Wan comes to a stop in front of the pair of you, your eyes dragging to his frame after shooting a disgruntled glance at your Master. “Master Koon?”

“I’m set to depart for Shili within the hour, and unfortunately, this one,” he gestures a robe-covered hand towards you, “is recovering from a mild case of Balmorra Flu and will be unable to accompany me. I would appreciate it immensely if you’d monitor my student to ensure that she does, in fact, fulfill her last day of bed rest.” Obi-Wan notices as you bristle at the notion of being babysat like a child, but says nothing as Plo continues. “The healers have been kind enough to deliver medicine and food. You’d need only to stay within the room.” Before Obi-Wan can reply that he’d have to seek the approval of his own Master, Koon finishes for him. “I’d be happy to request an excuse from the rest of your duties, but if I’m being quite honest, I’m aware that most of your training for the day has already been completed.”

Obi-Wan schools his own features in haste from revealing how impressed he is. Though, he really shouldn’t be surprised. Plo Koon was legendary amongst the younger generations for both his intuition and skill with a lightsaber. Still, he pauses.

“There’s no cause for worry, young one, she’s not contagious any longer. The sickness is in its last stages.” The Kel Dor assures him, somewhat humorously, but that’s not why Obi-Wan is hesitating.

He’s nervous — he’s never spent much time alone with you. It’s not that you’re unlikable, or intimidating — okay, maybe you are a little — but actually, you’re quite popular with the rest of his crèchemates. He’s only had the opportunity to spend time with you in the midst of his other friends, and the times you have had conversations by yourselves, he gets an uncomfortable twist in his stomach that he’s not sure he likes.

But Obi-Wan is a good Padawan. Trying to be, at least. And Master Koon is close friends with Qui-Gon.

“Certainly, Master.” He gives a slight bow at the middle of his waist. “I would gladly be of service.”

The Jedi nods at him gracefully, and bids a soft farewell to you as he departs the conversation and the dormitory wing. You mutter a goodbye of your own moments after, followed by what Obi-Wan thinks is a variation of be safe. Then, you turn haughtily into your bedroom, retreating with your nose high in the air. He follows with a smirk of amusement.

“Sorry you’ve been sidelined.” He offers, as you face plant dramatically onto the bed. You bounce head-first into the pillows, and he can feel the irritation radiating off of you. “I know it that goes.”

You lift your body enough to place your chin in your hands, and regard him with a softening quirk. “It’s okay. I was just excited to get out on a mission again after my last one got cut short. This wretched flu.”

You flop onto your back, but Obi-Wan can sense your resentment quickly fading as you pull up the sheets to your chest. He notes that you already seem to be complying with your Master’s orders, grateful at the thought of not having to force you into bed. Another thought passes through his head, reminding him of the specific name Plo Koon had mentioned earlier.

“Balmorra flu? Weren’t you on Dantooine?”

“We were. Unfortunately, the illness is not limited to the planet for which it is named. But how it made its way to Dantooine, the middle of nowhere, I’ve no idea.” You sniff harshly. “It’s a shame, too. I wanted to take some time to admire the grasslands, but Master Koon wanted to get us back to the temple before I got worse.” The pout on your face morphs into a far-off look, and while you’re daydreaming, he takes the time to admire you. “It was majestic, Obi-Wan, the rolling plains, the rivers — you’d have loved it, I think.”

To himself, he smiles warmly. Here you are, sinuses stuffed to the brim and wallowing in the discomfort of sickness, yet you still found it within yourself to think of him. He can see why you’d been spoken so highly of by the others before he’d had the courage to befriend you.

You had a good heart.

“I know what you mean.” He presents you with a new tissue as you toss a used one into the wastebasket by your bed, and you watch him speak intently. “Once, on a mission to Alderaan, my Master told me he’d save time to hike one of the mountains if we finished early. A meditation retreat, of sorts. We did, but just as we were prepared to go, I came down with nerf-pox. A youngling sneezed on me in the middle of the assignment.” Disdain paints his appearance, and you cough out a laugh at him behind your fist as you reach for something off your bedside table, where a steaming bowl and cup of water sits.

“To the experiences that disease took from us,” you raise the cup in the air as if you’re making a toast, and although he’s not holding one of his own, he mimes the action with a grin. “Here’s to hoping we’ll get to do them someday.”

As you raise the drink to your mouth, Obi-Wan can’t help but notice the way it trembles in your hand. Eyes narrowing, he takes in the slight shake of your arm. “You’re quite weak,” he moves closer to take the cup from you and set it back on the table. “I think I should feed you.”

Your eyebrows knit in defiance, but he’s already holding the bowl of soup, stirring the spoon in its depths. Immediately, his nose wrinkles in distaste.

“This smells horrible.”

You sigh in agreement, leaning your head back against the pillows. “Rootleaf stew. Master Yoda’s personal recipe.” As he lifts the utensil to your still-moving mouth, you add, “Thankfully, it doesn’t taste as bad as it stinks.”

He snickers quietly as you drink the liquid down with a small noise of disgust. Your face seems to relax after a minute, however, and he hopes the warm broth is soothing your throat. He offers you a bit more, but this time, you stare straight at him as your lips close around the spoon, and his wrist falters when you peer at him from beneath your lashes.

Soup dribbles down your chin and neck as you squeal in surprise, the heat of it making you jerk back. Obi-Wan drops the bowl onto the table as he frantically snatches up tissues to offer you between panicked apologies, not trusting himself to dab the droplets on your skin away himself.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry, I —” he stammers as you clean up what you can, blinking at him in amused surprise. You don’t look angry at him, but stars, does he feel bad. “Ah, I didn’t mean to. So much for helping you.” From the shoulders up, he burns bright with remorse, but you shake your head amusedly with bright eyes.

“It’s okay. I probably would have done the same to myself. You were right, I am too weak to carry anything.”

Sheepishly, Obi-Wan picks up the stew again, but places it in his lap for a moment as he waits for his body to stop freaking out, for lack of a better term. It’s good timing, too, because you promptly break into a hacking fit, coughing violently as he winces in his seat. After you blow your nose loudly, you seem to notice his expression, because you suddenly turn self-consciously away from him.

“I’m sorry, too. I can’t imagine I’m a pretty sight to see as of right now.”

He disagrees. Surprisingly, your physical state hasn’t been too affected. And even in spite of your slightly ruffled exterior, you’re still exuding the same liveliness that he can’t help but find attractive. In his mindlessness, Obi-Wan’s mouth acts before his brain as he responds. “I think you’re always pretty.”

You both freeze, eyes meeting in shocked gazes as he attempts to backtrack. “I — I mean, you’re a pretty sight to see —” Nope, that’s worse, kill me, Maker, kill me now —

“Obi — it’s okay,” you cut him off from embarrassing himself further, though your own voice is shrill. “I appreciate the compliment.”

His face flushes again, this time at the nickname more than his stupidity. He stares resolutely into the swirling broth as he fiddles with the spoon, and deafening silence fills the air between you as you both look anywhere but each other. Soon enough, though, you’re brave enough to break the quiet. With an even braver comment of your own.

“You know, you’re not too bad-looking either,” he peers at you cautiously, and your eyes are kind, offering comfort. He breathes out a long sigh, but manages a weak smile in return.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and you nod at him easily. He’s jealous of the way you’re expressive, yet so effortlessly at ease in any scenario — someday, he swears, he’ll nail down his composure. He’ll be in complete control of his every emotion and have the coolest demeanor of all the Jedi.

Just, not today.

Obi-Wan forces himself to steel the muscles in his arms as he brings another spoonful of soup to your waiting mouth, and exhales in relief when he successfully avoids causing another mess. Unfortunately, it seems that you’re intent on making one, because as soon as you swallow, you’ve got another remark that you deliver all too casually for Obi-Wan’s liking.

“In fact, I’d say you’re the prettiest Padawan in the Order.”

He spills the entire bowl across your sheets.

[sadselfhelp]

Who I Am, And Why I Created This Blog.

TRIGGER WARNINGS - Mental Illness, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Violence, Drug Overdose, Suicide, Psychotic Breaks. 

Take a walk with me, let me show you around the mind of The Sad Hatter.

There's a lot going on in my head right now, and I feel like I'm on the precipice of something. I'm standing on a cliff's edge and I'm either going to plummet or I'm going to fly. It's been building inside me for a long time, and I can't contain it anymore. So here it is, here's me laid bare, because I need to say this, I need to put it into words. I need to purge it all. To try and make sense of all of this shit in my brain, I think it's time I organize it. I don't know where to begin, but I guess I start at the beginning and make use of the ability to edit.

Before you read this, please be aware of the trigger warnings. And please understand that this is the most honest and open I have been, I really am stripped bare in this piece of writing. It’s not at all pretty, and am I not guiltless in parts. This may well alter whatever opinion you have of me. 

I guess the beginning is birth, right? But I don't want to rehash all that trauma, so let me speed through it. Twenty-Eight years ago I was born, violently. I'm serious, I ripped my way out of the womb, and tore that thing apart. I guess I can sort of understand why my mother couldn't love me after that was my first act, collapsing her womb. So let me speedrun this part of the story. Mum didn't want me, gave me to my dad who raised me as a single parent with the help of his parents, until he met my stepmother. Shockingly, she didn't want me either, but because she couldn't get rid of me she decided to physical and psychological torture was the next best thing. 

When I was eleven years old I snapped and didn't want to put up with it anymore, so I wrote a goodbye note and then snuck into the medicine cabinet and took a bunch of pills. Spoiler alert, I didn't die. I did however end up in a children's home, cue more abuse, little bit of bullying and sexual assault etc.... I snapped again, but instead of turning my anger inwards, I became an absolute bastard. Ok, I still turned it inwards a bit, I had a lot of anger, and now I have a few hundred scars to prove it. But, it turns out that violence can beget violence, and I acted out in every possible way. Racked up a horrifying rap sheet, assault, vandalism, arson, and finally... GBH. I was supposed to get put in a secure unit (child prison – Scottish Edition) but I was always able to talk myself out of trouble. 

See, I was this tiny little white girl with big sad eyes and a hell of a sob story, even at the bottom of the food chain I still had privilege. So instead of getting locked up, I just got sent to a different home. And here's the really messed up part, this home was better. The staff were nicer, and nobody hurt me. My behavior literally changed overnight. I went from being charged by the police on a weekly basis, to never getting so much as a pocket money sanction. I will never excuse my actions, nor condone them, but after years of guilt I finally realized that the bad things I did were in retaliation to a bad situation, and though I wasn’t acting like a good person, I’m not a bad person, just a messed up one. 

I still refused to go to school though, because though I didn't yet know it at the time, I had severe social anxiety. I was smart, a little too smart to be honest, and I found myself thriving with a private tutor. When the time came to sit my exams, someone fucked up, and despite having record breaking test scores on the pre-exams, I never actually got to sit my standard grades (think SAT's – Scottish Edition). I'm still bitter about that. So by this point in the story, I'm 16, and legally an adult, too old for a children's home. I got turfed to a hostel, and the next few parts of the story are pretty fuzzy to me. 

This is where my mental health really started to deteriorate. I bounced between homeless hostels and B&B's for a year or so, until I got a my first flat/apartment. By that point, I was utterly fucked in the head. I was blacking out frequently, for anywhere between a couple of minutes to three days. I would come back to myself in sometimes compromising positions, and once there was blood. A lot of blood, splashed all over the walls. Then there was the time I suddenly found myself standing in the kitchen, about to plunge a knife into my own chest.

Nobody ever did tell me what the hell that was about. Or maybe they did and I just... forgot? But because I was extremely suicidal, a doctor finally decided to do something, and the police and the paramedics came to my door to take me to the psychiatric hospital. I spent ten months there while I cycled through various anti-psychotics and anti-depressants, and was 'rehabilitated into society'. The second I was out, I made the worst decision I have ever made in my life. If I can give you one piece of advice, one lesson to take from my shitshow of a life, it's this: Don't move hundreds of miles away to be with the guy you met online while you were having a psychotic break.

I've never really thought of myself as a victim, but I guess I'm the only one who saw it that way. Ben, that was his name, Ben was a monster, and I didn't know it until it was too late. He never hit me, never lifted a hand to me, he never had to. He could put a knife in my hand and make me hurt myself for his entertainment. I had told him everything, so he knew exactly how to break me down, how to make me want to bleed. He locked me in a house and used me up. And when I had enough, and tried to break free of him, he would just tell the police I was mentally ill and they would smile sympathetically and give me back to him.

But then my dad had a breakdown. My dad, who when he found out what my stepmother was doing to me, buried his head in the sand and packed my little suitcase for me. I hadn't spoken to him in a while until he reached out from the same psychiatric ward I had not long vacated. He had cracked under the realization that I had never lied about her, and the guilt broke him apart. I could have hated him, if it had happened a few years earlier then I would have. But I had experienced enough of the world to learn a few things, like how easily it is to fuck up, and that no matter how strong you are, you aren't immune to monsters. The truth was he was as much a victim of her evil as I was. She had manipulated him, played with his head, used his insecurities against him. So I helped him through his issues, the way I wished someone had helped me. That doesn't really make me a good person, it just makes me human.

But my dad got better, and found his footing. And when he did, he realized something wasn't right with me, and I told him the truth about Ben. My dad had left me to suffer at the hands of an abuser once before, and he wasn't going to allow it to happen again. He came and got me, and he took me home. He moved me in with him, gave me his bed and slept on the couch. After a couple of months, he helped me get my own place.

And that's the happy ending, right? All the trauma was over, I was safe, that's where the story should end. Right? I bet you're not naive enough to believe that, but I sure as hell was. I thought I would recover and that everything would be ok. I thought that with safety, there would come the chance to heal. I thought my wounds would scab over, and I would have my scars but at least I would be able to move without bleeding out. But that's not how trauma works. I had two decades worth of trauma, abuse, and hell.

I just... faded. I didn't crack, I didn't crumble, I didn't break, I just stopped. For five years I sat in one room of my home, drowning inside myself. Last year I got handed a lifeline, and now I live somewhere better. I'm not really allowed to live independently so I actually live in kind of retirement village of all places. I have my own house, but it's got intercoms and emergency cords everywhere, I get checked on daily by on on-site worker. And I'm trying to get better, I really am. It's just not that easy.

There's more to the whole story that I maybe should have put in, like the fact that my mother was a drug addict when she was pregnant with me, and that may have been the reason some of my organs didn't properly form and/or formed wrong. My lung split in half when I was a baby, and parts of my stomach are missing. Or that my mother is full on batshit insane. I could have had a perfect childhood and I still would have been mentally ill. Hell, I was seeing psychologists at five years old. Take my sketchy genetics, add twenty years of severe traumas, and well... I'm a little fucked up. Because a lot of medical conditions use acronyms, my full list of diagnosis looks like I'm collecting the fucking alphabet.

I have Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), and Agoraphobia. I also have a Pulmonary Sequestration, Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia, the stomach and lung issues. Immune Hemolytic Anemia, I'm basically allergic to my own blood. Plus, ya know, my liver recently decided to just fucking nope out, the pissy lil bitch is failing. I also may or may not have cancer, I don't know because I pussied out of the tests. At this point I am a walking, decaying corpse that is held together by glitter glue and bitterness.

So... why exactly am I writing this? And why am I even considering posting this? I mean, my problems aren't as bad as some other people's. We've all got shit to deal with, especially in 2020. The whole world is falling apart, so what right do I have to sit here pouting and pouring my problems out? Well, for a start, I guess this is my blog, I can post whatever, and it's up to everyone else if they read it.

So here it is, you have the backstory, so here's what it's all been leading up to.

I'm struggling. Like, really struggling. I'm stuck on this cliff, and I want off, any way I can. Whether I fall or fly, I just want free. I can't live like this anymore, because I can't breathe.

The fucking agonizing duality of being socially anxious and too easily overstimulated, and yet feeling fucking empty inside if you're not surrounded by action and noise. The world is too noisy for my brain, but my brain is too noisy for the world. I get antsy if I'm not doing at least a thousand different tasks, but I get overwhelmed if I try to do anything at all. It leads to short bursts of mania, followed by weeks of depression. But underneath all of that, under all the dramatic showboating, and the dark humor, under all the bravado... I'm really just sad.

Years ago, when I first came up with the moniker "The Sad Hatter", I said it was because I may be mad, but my madness was born of sadness. I'm just sad. I carry it with me where my heart should be. So I named myself Sad, and I put on the hat, and I wore my sadness like armor, turned it into an act, and made a spectacle of it. "I'm The Sad Hatter, and I'm mentally ill but that's alright, I'm going to be just fine!" I told you all I had my issues, and I'll come close to opening up about how bad those issues are, I'll give little chunks of information at intermittent intervals, and then two hours later I'll act like it never happened. I'll admit I was close to killing myself, and then two days later I'll post dog photo's and act like I'm all better.

I'm writing this because I'm sad. And tomorrow, I'll act like I'm not. But when I waver again, I'll come back here and I'll open up again. And along the way, maybe you're reading this and realizing you aren't alone in feeling overwhelmed. Maybe you're realizing you're not the only one who isn't healing neatly and in a timely manner. Maybe you're reading this and gaining some insight into the struggles someone you care about is facing. Maybe my opening up is can help somebody else, I really hope so, but I know it's helping one person. It's helping me.

This blog, it's about living with myself. It's about living with The Sad Hatter.

[goldeneyedgirl]

TwiFicMas20 Christmas Eve: All These Broken Things

... Is it really the end of FicMas if I haven’t posted something from All These Broken Things? I think not. The first sections can be found here and here. This is the fic where Alice travelled with James and doesn’t meet the Cullens until that baseball game. 

It's very strange finally being with the family she was always destined to be with, when she thought she had lost them so long ago.

She finds great satisfaction just watching them - Emmett yelling at the sports on the television; Edward perched at the piano, Rosalie working on her cars. She hovers, like a little ghost, folded into corners and against doorframes, vanishing the second they might acknowledge her.

Esme seems to like her company, as she goes about day-to-day things, chatting away to the silent girl with the enormous, sad black eyes, who trails after her like a stray.

She stays away from Carlisle, trying to avoid the moment he declares her to be cast out, too far gone for them to redeem.

And she stays away from Jasper, because it hurts too much. She doesn't tell Jasper what she knows, what they were meant to be to one another. The past is gone, and she has been broken into too many pieces. He watches her like a hawk, and without words, she knows he will be the one to destroy her if she steps out of line. His hands will crack her limbs apart and he will not flinch or feel any loss.

She wonders if she should tell him that if he was the to destroy her, she would not fight it. She would part in his hands like a paper doll, and hold no ill will to him for such an act.

Sometimes, she lets herself remember the old visions, the ones where they were everything to one another. Only when Edward's away, though; she doesn't like him rifling around in her head. No one deserves being forced to see some of those things.

And it hurts, a raw wound in her heart, that she was meant for something else, for happiness and peace and love, instead of what she was dealt in life. One of her greatest unanswered questions is why? What unforgivable thing did she do in her forgotten human past that earned such a punishment?

Then she remembers what she has done at James’ side for so many decades, at the faces and the screams and the suffering, and somehow she lived her crimes and her penance at the same time.

So she continues to pretend she doesn’t notice that Edward keeps Bella away from the house; that Emmett or Jasper hover in the background as she trails after Esme, as she watches Rose. That she can only go hunting when Jasper and Emmett can go along too; the ones strong enough and fast enough to restrain her.

When Edward does bring Bella back to the house at Esme’s insistence, she sits on the opposite side of the room, and listens to the conversation, keeping still and silent.

When Carlisle arrives home from work, she focuses on the magazine or book she has found, pretending to be absorbed by the glossy pictures, still and silent, to not notice as he studies her with patience she isn’t sure is genuine.

When Jasper joins Emmett for something noisy and angry on the television, their gazes occasionally sliding towards her, she is frozen in place, her gaze out the window.

She’s played this game before. Be good and quiet and still. The blow will come, eventually, but at least she can prepare herself for it, brace herself for the inevitable fall. They don’t trust her.

She doesn’t trust her, either.

Six.

They settle into a sort of routine.

She’s allowed to hunt with Esme and Rosalie now, though she’s careful to keep her distance, to trek a little further into the forest, to reassure them. She usually waits until they call her back.

She is always carefully supervised during their hunts, and finally, finally, the cracks James left across her nose and cheeks have finally faded away. They hunt too often for her, and when she forces herself to finish the animal, she vomits everywhere. She says nothing, but she feels safer a little hungry, her eyes black rather than a strange gold-orange.

Edward lets her sit beside him when he plays the piano, tells her about each of the pieces of music. He tries to teach her once, attempts to guide her hands into position, but she panics and jerks away, and he doesn’t offer again.

Emmett is nice to her. He seems to understand not to come up behind her without warning, not to touch. Sometimes she perches on the end of the couch and watches the television with him. She doesn’t stay very long, but he always gives her a big smile when she leaves, as if he’s had a wonderful time.

She doesn’t understand Emmett, but she thinks she could like him.

Rosalie can’t seem to decide whom she dislikes more – her or Bella - and she’s sure that Rose is going to get whiplash from changing her mind about both of them so many times. But Rose addresses her and is reasonably civil, mostly out of some kind of misguided caution that she is some kind of threat, and that is some kind of progress.

She and Bella have few words to say to each other. ‘Sorry I helped someone attempt to torture and exsanguinate you’ isn’t something she can work out how to say out-loud and have it sound genuine. Mostly because the truth is closer to, ‘I’m sorry you found yourself in this situation, but I don’t regret my choices. The consequences for me would have been much, much worse than you can ever comprehend. Your fragile mortality would have spared you of the worst of it. I’d make the same decision one hundred times in a row without a second thought.’

She’s certain that would upset everyone.

Bella seems rather reluctant to spent time in her presence, and she does wonder if that’s because she’s the side of the coin that isn’t beauty-wealth-love. She’s the side of suffering, of pain and of misery, murder and regret. Bella wants perfection, wants the glamour and magic of the Cullens, and none of the honest truth of being a vampire.

But it’s probably the murder attempt.

Then there are things that haven’t changed since she arrived. She’s not allowed to be alone, or to leave the house aside from hunting – even then, she has to be accompanied.

But every single day, James is still gone and she is still here. And there will never be a time when that knowledge is not sweet.

//

Her wardrobe is limited - a few old t shirts that once belonged to Esme and are too big, her worn jeans and the filthy, stained cardigan that she had when they found her. Her thin knees have long since torn through her pants, and the cardigan's sleeves are frayed and holey, but she is clean and free.

And then she is deemed in control enough to go shopping. Esme approaches her with the idea, with glossy magazines and gentle suggestions. It is an idea that has even intrigues Rosalie enough for her to join them.

They clearly still think she is a risk, though, because it is a family outing, with looks of such boredom and long-suffering on the faces of the male Cullens when it is decided, that she laughs softly behind her hand.

The building they take her to is huge and full of people. It is like a blow to the face, of blood and scent, and she visibly recoils from it at first, unsure and on edge. And they are patient, escorting her in, with encouraging words.

Eventually, though, they show her the clothes and the sight of the racks is enough to distract her from the heady scent. It is overwhelming, the colours and fabrics and styles, and she simply stares, with Emmett laughing at her stunned expression.

Esme is so kind, guiding her gently through the racks, telling her to choose anything she likes. She is careful, though, picking new jeans, a new cardigan, soft and clean and sunshine yellow. Esme helps her pick shoes out - the first pair she's had in decades. Soft brown winter boots, black sneakers, gold and black flats that make her feel like a princess. At her childlike delight with her fancy shoes, Esme buys her a black sundress with ties at the back and bows on the straps, that will bare her arms and triangles of flesh on her back.

Underwear is a strange concept. It's nothing that she has ever bothered with before. She is useless in the wake of so many choices, and let's Esme and Rosalie choose what she needs, dress her like a doll, whilst she amuses herself with how clearly uncomfortable both Jasper and Edward are in such a department.

She almost feels pretty – even desirable - in the plain cotton that make her skinny frame look almost womanly. She’s too embarrassed to even try on the satin and lace sets Rosalie has chosen. They aren’t for girls like her – girls that wear those things are more than she will ever be – prettier, sweeter, bolder. They are too much, and when she refuses, she doesn’t understand the look Rosalie and Esme exchange, Rosalie looking sly and Esme with an expression of warning.

Afterwards, they look for other things. The books hold little interest for her, as do the endless electronics. She doesn’t mean to wander off, but a demonstration by the art supplies store catches her eye, and she stands a little away from the crowd, watching the man draw. It is Esme and Jasper who find her, both looking alarmed, but she pretends she doesn’t see them, her gaze focused on the pencil that so carefully makes its way across the page.

“Alice,” Esme is at her side. “You scared us.” Her smile is bright, but her eyes worried – what would the Cullens do if she attacked in a place like this, with so many eyes? She doesn’t get to ponder that thought much longer, as Jasper’s hand closes over her shoulder and she is guided away.

For the rest of the afternoon, Jasper is her ominous shadow, as she dutifully trails after them.

She doesn't have her own room, but she doesn’t truly need one. Until now, she hasn’t had any possessions to store, and she doesn’t require the privacy a mated couple does. But, she has found she likes the attic. Full of things that need repairs or to be stored, it is a mad tea party of furniture and items.

There’s an old grey chair is missing a leg, and has an ugly stain that not even Esme could draw out that she likes. She folds herself into it, and she feels safe in that little corner, with the narrow window that overlooks the forest and spills in afternoon light. There's an old dresser up there, too, so that's where she arranges her new things, carefully folding and smoothing them into each drawer, precisely and lovingly.

Rosalie brings her some cosmetics and half a glass bottle of perfume – the bottle is shaped like an egg and etched with tiny flowers and curlicues and it is so delicate and beautiful, she is frightened to hold it. Rosalie watches as she sprays the scent into the air, the delighted look at the scent of flowers. She is nervous at Rosalie’s gesture, but grateful. Grateful enough that she allows Rosalie to cut the matted ends of her hair off into a neat, shorter style.

It makes her look more delicate, younger, maybe sweeter, she thinks as she strokes the strands in the mirror. And less like a roving maniac, at least according to the shiny-haired Rosalie, who watches her with satisfaction in her eyes.

She should be offended, but there’s this tiny hope that maybe, just maybe, Rosalie is turning her into something new. Something good and better.

Something like a sister.

//

It’s Esme’s idea to invite Bella around the evening of her birthday. Just a family gathering, with a few simple gifts. Everyone sort of agrees, and try to work out what to give the sullen girl.

She manages a portrait of Bella and Edward seated together at the piano that Esme gushes over, and has framed.

There have been some hints, from Carlisle and Edward that she will have to attend school eventually. She doesn’t understand that, but is just waiting for them all to graduate. They’ll leave when they’ve graduated and she won’t have to worry about school again.

She arranges peonies on the piano for Bella, upon Esme’s request, and is reminded of her old, fragmented vision of blood and glass. But nothing comes to her; the future is clear and her mind has decided to play tricks on her again.

Or perhaps her mind is the best part of her, the gentle warning she ignored becoming obvious as soon as Bella’s finger slips against the wrapping paper. Jasper’s eyes blacken as soon as Bella’s flesh parts and the blood beads, and suddenly he is lunging. She sees it in an instant, Bella’s crumpled body in his grip and Edward’s howls and the house of the Cullens irreversibly fallen. She sees an endless parade of James’ victims, broken and dead in Bella’s blank eyes.

She sees the horror and the guilt in Jasper’s eyes, sees the vastness of Mexico and the rise of a monster born of regret and impulse.

It is over before he even moves, decision made, and she has to stop this.

The shriek startles them all, coming from her mouth as she darts in front of him.

In another life, the flavour of her desperation and fear would be enough for him to pause, to grasp wildly at his resistance. Instead, he throws her aside, her body crashing through the front windows in a rain of wood and glass, leaving an imprint of her body in the flowerbed outside.

She picks herself up out of the flower bed as Emmett and Rosalie drag Jasper bodily from the house, Esme close behind them. Their eyes are all pitch black; a harmless paper cut did not cause this reaction.

“She cut open her arm,” is Emmett’s grim explanation as Jasper’s struggles slow, his eyes firmly on the door of the house.

“It was an accident,” Esme adds, shame in every line of her stance.

“Alice seemed to know,” Rosalie murmurs, her eyes still on Jasper.

She will never understand Rosalie, why she always needs to assign blame, to identify the victim and the antagonist. She ignores the statement, even as they all swing to look at her, as she examines her shoulder. Jasper didn’t hit her hard enough for cracks to form, but it doesn’t look like it’s properly aligned.

When she does look up again, she can see it in all their eyes – did she let this happen on purpose? Does she hold some ugly vendetta against poor, sweet Bella?

She did help James …

She’s surprised – she thought it would be Edward that came after her, later, to criticise and punish her for the limitations on her faulty gift. He still might – he hasn’t decided properly, too focused on patching up Bella.

But it’s Jasper, wrenching out of Rosalie and Emmett’s grasp, with murder in his eyes and the target on her.

He doesn’t yell, but his words are poisonous, nasty and accusing. She flinches, Esme gasps and even Emmett tries to get him to stop. Some of them, she knows, aren’t meant for her. They are frustration, humiliation and disappointment directed at himself, at his own weakness.

But when she instinctively backs away, and he grabs her wrist, and she lets out a tiny cry of fear; it is Rosalie who comes to her rescue, who snarls and yells and pries his iron grip from her.

“I don’t care how pissed you are, you don’t touch her like that.”

The words seem to echo, and Carlisle, Edward and Bella are watching from the front door.

Her apology is stammered, weak in the sudden silence, her insistence that she didn’t know sounding bewildered and feeble as she darts away, into the forest to pick glass and wood out of her hair and wonder just how many other warnings she’s missed.

//

[flipflap-flipflap]

[Alright take-two on this damn post.  First one got eaten by post editor right as I was ready to post.  You see how long this is?  Save to drafts, kids.]

I’m here to shove a manga on you: Ookami Shounen Wa Kyou Mo Uso O Kasaneru (The Boy Who Cried Wolf Also Told a Lie Today).  It’s a gender bending romance.  Despite how awful that probably sounds, it’s actually really fucking good and I do not say that lightly. 

(No spoilers, this is all in the first chapter)  A high school boy insecure about his intimidating face, Itsuki, has fallen for a shy loner girl, Tokujira, who does not seem specifically phased by his naturally scary face.  So he takes a risk and confesses, but she turns him down brutally.  Itsuki goes to his sister to lament his insecurities about his face, which he (more or less correctly) attributes as why he can’t make connections.  To give him a new perspective on his appearance, his sister (trans btw) gives him a makeover while he’s sleeping and then kicks him to the curb of her salon - fully crossdressed.  On his way home, Itsuki (♀) ends up bumping into Tokujira, and she mistakes him for a boyish girl.  Under this misunderstanding, she asks "her” for a favor...

She has androphobia, and she has it bad.  So much so she can’t even look at men without snapping violently or becoming physically ill.  And Itsuki (♀) is just boyish enough to trigger her, but not enough to lock her down.  So she asks for “her” help, to see if she can desensitize herself to her phobia. Itsuki’s in a bind for a couple obvious reasons, not the least being the guilt of deceiving Tokujira. But nonetheless, he genuinely wants to help her.  So, he decides to continue crossdressing, diving into a lie that he soon finds he has no easy exit from.

I really recommend this manga.  I cannot say that enough times.  It is phenomenal, shattering tropes left and right in fun and interesting ways.  Do yourself a favor and give this manga a try.

Personal feelings and meta analysis below the cut.  It’s, uh, ungodly long, and will get very spoilery.  But I will flag spoilers.  And there will be pretty pictures?

(Also, no, I did not go into this planning to compare a manga about crossdressing to the abolitionist writings of Frederick Douglass, but reality deserves to be a bit absurd sometimes.)

Before you think I’m getting spoilery, with the intro I gave or anything I don’t mark as spoilers, I’m really not.  Everything outside of spoilers is right on the package at the start.  It sounds like I’m spoiling late-game stuff, right?  That’s something that was really fantastic to me: this manga doesn’t spoon feed you.  There’s no arcs of pure silent angst, even at the lowest point in the story. These kids are smart, they think and intuit on the spot, and they share what they’re feeling with each other like good friends do.  Like that next panel down there with Itsuki introspecting about his confidence level while crossdressing?  That’s from the first chapter!  These kids are smart.  And god damn that is so nice to see.

There was a lot I liked about this manga, but at the top is how compelling the protagonist and his internal conflict are.  Right from the first chapter he’s already wracked with guilt about what he’s about to do: deceive this girl by pretending to be a safe space.  But Tokujira told Itsuki (♀) she hopes to one day be able to fall in love, and Itsuki wants to ensure she can have that - even if it’s not him that gets to confess to her.  He’s fully aware of exactly how fucked up what he’s doing is, and is appropriately beating himself up over it in a really realistic way.  But although the guilt never fades, it slowly gains company in happiness. He enjoys this new, fragile life he has constructed around the two precious new friends he's made as a girl.

It was probably easy to gloss over in the synopsis, but arguably the biggest part of Itsuki (♂)’s conflict is his complex about his face.  He looks dangerous, and because of that he is afraid to even lift his head or smile in front of others.  But as Itsuki (♀), he smiles and laughs without fear.  It becomes immediately clear to him on the first day that he's a more confident person while crossdressing.  Happier in a way he can't be as a man.

Botan is easily my favorite character in the series.  She’s introduced early on, as Tokujira’s first and only friend before Itsuki (♀).  At the start she’s a dangerous third wheel, a serious threat to Itsuki’s ability to keep up his lie.  And though the situation is (thankfully) defused rather quickly, she becomes a massive source of internal conflict for Itsuki. Nonetheless, she becomes a dear friend for both Itsuki ♂ and ♀. She’s just so...*chef’s kiss*

^This face is the repository of all my love and affection.

Mark my words, this is the first and I assume last time I will ever say this: love triangle good. You know it’s inevitable in a romance genre piece, but this manga approaches the trope in a new and compelling way. [Spoiler] Needless to say, it’s between Itsuki, Tokujira, and Botan.  But...there’s two Itsukis involved, ♂ and ♀, and in the center of it all is this lie. His lie stops being about him: it's about not hurting these two girls he cares so much about. [/Spoiler]

On a more personal note, I saw so much of myself in Itsuki’s older sister, Ibuki.  She runs a salon, catering especially to crossdressers and transwomen.  She’s a self-described “Youthling”, an alien from the planet Youth, obsessed with observing the exciting and turbulent lives of the youths of earth.  For more or less for the same reasons most of us do: transpeople don’t tend to get the youths we want, if we allow ourselves to experience youth at all. So it’s nice to be able to enjoy it vicariously, through this younger generation that is able to more fearlessly pursue the lives we couldn't. 

^Incidentally, one of my favorite interactions in the manga.

Despite getting Itsuki into this crossdressing mess, she’s someone he can always return to and confide in, and get good, helpful advice from.  Her whole philosophy is to give young people agency to explore their identities and find themselves, and though she tells Itsuki the road he's taking is dangerous as soon as she learns what he's doing, she'll always support him however she can.

That, I feel, is what separates her from other, more creepy/pedophilic enabler types, like Sawako from K-On! or Lucoa from Dragon Maid. It’s a refreshingly honest and respectful portrayal of a quirky adult just trying to be a good older sister.

The last thing I want to say, and I’m not going to even mark this as a spoiler because of course it’s going to happen and if you can’t predict that then you’re not my problem, is that Itsuki of course eventually has to drop his lie.  All I’ll say about it is that it is probably going to live in my head for years. Everything about it, the lead up, the execution, the fallout, and the recovery, are all so masterfully crafted for maximum emotional impact.

That’s all I want to say exclusively about my personal feelings.  On to analysis.  There will be a lot more contextual spoilers here that, even without reading the parts I’ve specially blocked off will probably leak through.  Read at your own risk, but I would recommend revisiting after you have finished the manga.

One thing I really want to talk about is language.  That’s right, I’m going to compare a crossdressing manga to The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, the autobiography of a freed slave turned abolitionist. Douglass talks about a concept that has remained imprinted on my mind ever since I first read it: how and why slaves struggled to comprehend the concept of freedom.  This wasn’t anything to do with fear or “racial inferiority” like pro-slavers would argue, but rather with a lack of vocabulary.  They have all of these feelings and things they know to be true, but lack the words to make meaningful sense of them.  For Douglass specifically, his life completely changed when he learned the word “abolition.”  It was like a floodgate burst, as he was suddenly able to put meaning to feeling, create context from chaos.

And that’s right, we see that happen in a big way, with Tokujira.  This should be an obvious development, but as it happens late in the manga I will mark it [Spoiler].  As Tokujira and Itsuki (♀) practice things like talking, eye contact, holding hands, etc., Tokujira naturally starts to fall for Itsuki (♀).  But she doesn’t understand that.  An important part of her character is that, growing up, she focused on expanding her vocabulary as much as humanly possible in the hopes of being able to better articulate herself.  So words are very important to her.  It’s not until she sees a work of lesbian fiction on display that she finally realizes that’s the word she’s looking for.  The floodgate bursts, and all of her emotions suddenly make sense.  She realizes she loves Itsuki (♀). [/Spoiler]

And I think that is a vital and underexplored concept when discussing LGBT youth, especially in countries where even knowledge of these concepts is taboo.  The reason so many LGBT youth struggle with their identities, especially trans youth, is because we do not have the vocabulary to conceptualize our feelings.  I am always excited to see this concept play out, especially in this context.  It’s such an important thing that needs to be addressed more broadly.

Moving on, I want to talk about historical context of the genre as it relates to what the author did here.  Notably, I want to talk about a specific trope rampant in Japanese queer fiction, specifically early lesbian fiction: the idea that queerdom is a meaningless, youthful phase that children will naturally and inevitably grow out of.  It’s problematic for obvious reasons.

[HELLA HELLA SPOILERS]  My kneejerk reaction to the ending of this manga was that the author fell into this trope.  In the end, Itsuki comes to the conclusion that he does not need to crossdress.  So again, kneejerk.  But...it really wasn’t like that.  He never had any dysphoria; crossdressing was always just a necessity of his circumstance.  Nonetheless he learned to analyze and value his experience crossdressing as a woman, and because of that grew as a man.  And as part of his journey to understand his identity we, through him, see why some people crossdress.  Along with his example, we see why his sister, a bona fide post-op transsexual, has made it a permanent change to her life.  Likewise, we see Miyama, who crossdresses purely for the gender euphoria, but has no (stated) interest in going all the way.  These are all presented as valid and meaningful. [/Spoiler]

Crossdressing, and gender nonconformity in general, is portrayed not as some one-dimensional fetish like cultural taboo would depict it to be, but rather a meaningful exercise for exploring and critically analyzing your own identity.  For some, yes, it’s a phase, but an importantly transformative one when done right.  While for others, it is a gateway to a new way of experiencing and enjoying life.  Or, it’s fun just for the pragmatic reasons...

I honestly cannot recommend this manga enough.  Tragically, I cannot imagine it ever getting an official english translation, so you’ll have to settle for a  scanlation like the one I linked in the title up top (and here, again).  It’s a really good translation, though the site is predictably sketchy.  Warning for lots of NSFW ads.

Read it, and then come talk to me about it!!!  There is basically zero fan community and I need to fangirl with someone!

[bondsmagii]

Regarding what was lying in mom's bed three months after she had passed.

ARCHIVIST

Statement of Bonnie Jennings, regarding a discovery made in her mother’s bed three months after her mother’s death. Original statement given May 18, 2009. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

Mum and I… we weren’t close. That’s probably an understatement. I suppose the correct word for it is that we were estranged, but that’s always seemed far too gentle for my liking. If I’m being honest, Mum and I hated one another. I know you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but my mother was a difficult woman to get along with. She drove everybody away in the end, but not even in the tragic, oh, she can’t help it kind of way. No, she knew exactly what she was doing. She revelled in it, I think. Well, I know she did. I’m not sure what she got out of it, but she liked to… to hurt people, I guess. She got a kick out of it. She was never quick about it, never in-your-face, because that wasn’t fun for her. She was so insidious. She would draw it out, let it take its time, ensure you never had enough to directly confront her about it. She never had a kind word for anyone or anything, and especially not for me. You know, I absolutely hate it, because whenever I mention that my mother and I didn’t talk much people always assume it’s because of well, you know. Somebody like that, you don’t expect them to be accepting of these kinds of things, do you? They always assume I had the classic story of coming out and being booting into the street, but no. That’s just a tragic story that gets parcelled up and delivered out as sad little stories meant to tell everyone how brave we are, and how much we endure, and it always ends with a reconciliation or with us getting back on our feet, stronger for it. Really, that’s not what happens most often. Of course it still does, and I’m not denying that, but I think people need to talk more about the more subtle kind of dismissal we might face. When I told Mum I was trans, all she said was “alright”. That’s it. Just the one word. She didn’t want to know anything more about it, she didn’t want to ask what it meant. She was completely disinterested, but not even in the way that some parents might be – struggling to deal with the fact that they’ve lost a child or whatever crap they come out with. I’m charitable about it – I know it is a shock. I have a lot of trans friends with good relationships with their parents who reported that their parents did need some time just to get used to the idea, but I think that’s normal. When somebody has an idea of you and you tell them they’re wrong, and that you were never that person, it’s a shock. But Mum was so self-centred, so absorbed in her own existence, that she really didn’t care about anything or anyone else. It didn’t matter that her son was actually her daughter. It didn’t centre on her, so who cares? It was infuriating, because on the surface she looked like a model mother. She began using the correct name and pronouns immediately and didn’t slip up once. She advised me on clothing and hair and makeup and gave me beauty tips. She looked so supportive, but really it was just her controlling criticism repackaged. I think, in a sick way, she loved having a daughter. Now she was the expert, as the older woman, and she could boss me around and condescend to me even more. It was an absolute nightmare, but I’m not here to talk smack about my mum – even though I could quite happily do so all day. No, this is about what happened after she was dead and gone. You hear that? Dead. She’s dead, and she’s still causing me problems.

I hadn’t spoken to Mum for over a year when she passed. She never even told me she was sick. None of my business, I guess. It was just Mum and me growing up, and there was no extended family. As I said, Mum drove everyone away in the end. There was absolutely nobody there at all, and that’s why her body rotted in her house for months before anyone found her. She died in the winter, and it was so cold her body basically froze  – she never left the heating on a timer, always turned it on manually so she could have more control over the cost. It wasn’t until the weather started getting warmer that neighbours noticed all the flies on the window, realised they hadn’t seen Mum for a while. They called the police, the police broke in, and they found the putrid mess that used to be my mother. Pretty messed up, right? Somehow I was still her emergency contact, because I guess there was nobody else, and so the police called me and broke the news and I was shocked but not really that upset. I mean, that sounds bad, but she’s been dead to me for some time, you know? Really it was sort of nice to know she was actually dead, because grieving for a living person – especially a person you never really had – is a very complicated business. Now she was dead, I thought I could finally just close that chapter. Of course it’s never that easy.

As her next of kin, I was responsible for her… estate, I suppose. That sounds so grand considering it was just a small semi-detached in rural Lincolnshire, but little though it was, it was mine. She never made a will, as I found out when I expressed surprise she’d left me anything at all. She hadn’t actually bothered, so by default it had all gone to me. I was living in Peterborough at the time, and Mum’s house was only in Spalding, so we didn’t live that far apart at all. It didn’t take long for my then-boyfriend and I to get in the car and head down there to see what all we needed to do. I wasn’t interested in keeping the house for myself, because why would I want it? Not to mention Henry and I had been considering buying a place together – later, when he proposed to me, he confessed he had been planning to pop the question that weekend but then they had to go and find my mother’s corpse, which was kind of funny in a morbid way – so we figured if we could sell the place it might be good money to put towards our own first house. Of course, there was the small matter of trying to sell a house where somebody had died, but I figured it wouldn’t be that hard. It wasn’t a brutal murder or anything like that. If we could clean the place up nicely, I didn’t think it would matter too much.

Well, they hadn’t exactly told us how bad it was going to be. Did you know that the family are in charge of cleaning up a house after a death? I didn’t. I thought that would be something that would be covered, you know? By who I’m not sure, but I didn’t think it would be down to family members to scrub up blood and worse from the carpets or the walls or whatever. I at least thought the police would warn us, and maybe it just slipped their mind, but whatever happened or didn’t happen ended up with Henry and I walking into that house not knowing what to expect at all.

We soon got the idea. The stench was abysmal, even just walking up the garden path. Of course, the body itself had been taken care of, but a body that’s been laying in the house for three months leaves behind a lot of evidence, even if it did spend most of that time mostly frozen. Mum’s bedroom was just… it was a nightmare. Words cannot describe the stretch. Sweet and sticky and sickly; you can taste it more than you can smell it. Cloying. That’s the word that came to my mind. I always thought it was a stupid word, but in that moment I understood exactly what it meant. Cloying. I could feel it in my throat and in my nose, thick and viscous, like having a cold and needing to cough up phlegm. Thank God I hadn’t had anything to eat or I would have thrown up. Poor Henry wasn’t so lucky – though he just about made it to the bathroom. I suppose I’m just morbidly curious, because despite the stench I walked right in there, holding my cardigan over my nose. The covers were pulled right back from the bed and there was this incredible stain on the mattress, almost like a bruise in the way it faded into different colours and shades. Sort of like a bruise meeting a patch of rusted iron, black and deep red and dark purple and then lighter shades of brown and grey, all in the vague outline of a prone body at the darkest parts, spreading out like some messed up halo as it grew lighter. It was absolutely vile, but fascinating in its own way. At the very least, she had done us the favour of dying in the bed rather than on the floor, because the carpet would have been a lost cause. With this, I reckoned we could throw out the bed and everything on it, air the room out, and it would be good as new.

I needed a little fresh air myself, so I opened the windows wide and then went to see if Henry was alright. He was still retching pretty badly, so I snooped around the spare room a bit – nothing much to see, if I’m honest – and then decided to wait for him in the back garden, where I’d be able to take advantage of the breeze. I was sure I could smell that heavy stench clinging to my hair, and do you know for weeks afterwards I still thought I could smell it? It doesn’t come out, no matter how much you wash it. Anyway, I obviously glanced into Mum’s room on my way out, and immediately I saw something was wrong. The covers were all back on her bed.

Now, I know for a fact they weren’t there before, because I saw the big stain on the mattress. Now the covers were back in place, not tucked in or even overly neat, but definitely covering the bed and tossed around like somebody was curled up under them, asleep. Strangely I didn’t feel scared or even very confused. I kind of… stood there for a moment, wondering how I was seeing what I was seeing, and then quite quickly I just accepted that I was seeing it and there was nothing I could do about that, so I decided to check it out. It’s not something I would ordinarily do, I don’t think – I’m curious, but I’m not touch a bed covered in decomposing body juices curious – but for some reason I just walked in there and pulled back the covers. One fluid movement, like a mother trying to get her teenager up for school. I just yanked it back from the top, near the pillows, and then I finally felt the horror that should have come much sooner.

It was… maggots, obviously. They were everywhere, writhing around in a huge pile, twisting their way over the stain and out of the bedsheets and even crawling up my arm, where I was still holding the covers. I screamed and shook my arm frantically, sending maggots flying in all directions, and immediately they began making their way back to the mass on the bed. It was like there was some kind of gravitational pull dragging them back to that pile of wriggling, twitching creatures, and as I watched I became convinced there was some kind of method to their movements. They were arranging themselves, forming into a shape, and I only dragged my eyes away when Henry appeared in the doorway, looking alarmed. I realised then that I’d screamed, and I tried to play it down – in that moment I wasn’t overly surprised, now I’d had a second to think about it, because yeah, of course there are maggots. They like dead bodies, right? I guessed that after the body was removed there were probably a ton of them in the mattress itself that had wriggled up in search of food, though thinking about it again, I didn’t recall seeing any holes in the cover sheet or anything. I tried to calm down, but something drew my eyes back to the maggots – I think it was the way Henry was just staring at the bed, horrified in a way I’ve never seen before – and I saw that the maggots had… how do I even describe this?

They had sat up. They were sitting, and they were in the vague shape of a person. I could see a head, shoulders, the arms limply by the sides. There was a torso that joined on to the bend of hips and legs stretched out in front, over the bed, the feet disappearing into the covers that were still left. I could see the slight rise in the covers where the feet were. The maggots were still moving around, so the shape was constantly shifting, but I could distinctly see details beginning to emerge. Hair. The sunken pits where eyes should be. A gaping mouth that was opening and closing, a black void behind it, as though the figure was trying to say something. And it was. I could hear this strange voice, like an exhale of air, a voice that was barely there at all – but I knew it was saying my name. Bonnie. Bonnie. I could hear it as clearly as anything. In that moment, it was the loudest thing in the room.

I stumbled backwards, but it was as far as I could go. I was frozen, even as I watched the figure swing itself out of bed and get to unsteady feet. It stumbled towards me like a drunk, wheezing deep in its throat, and I thought it sounded like a laugh. I’m not even saying that with hindsight – it was laughing at me. It was my mother’s laugh, and in that moment I knew she was doing this. I mean, I don’t know if she was, because how could she? But in that moment I thought I knew she was doing it, anyway, and I was so angry at her. I was so damn mad at her, for dying in such a horrible way and leaving me with the mess, for all the stuff she’d pulled on me growing up, for every single thing she had done to me, the big things and the petty things, and now this! She couldn’t even die properly, she had to come back and terrify me and traumatise me and ruin everything! I screamed again, but this time it was just pure, animalistic rage – I’ve never heard myself make such a sound. I looked around and I saw the chair sitting in front of the mirror and I picked it up by the back and chucked it into the air, catching it by the back legs and swinging it at the maggot figure with everything I had. I don’t even know what good I thought it would do, because it was just maggots, but the figure disintegrated around the torso and the maggots scattered to the floor. The figure half-collapsed, just a pair of legs wobbling towards me, and I let out this manic laugh before I saw the maggots were already regrouping. Finally I gathered some of my senses and I turned for the door, yelling at Henry to run. He didn’t need telling twice. We both sprinted down the hall and I think we both jumped clean down the entire set of stairs – or it at least felt like that. We ran out into the street and I pulled my cardigan off and started jumping on it, because I was sure I could feel all those maggots crawling on me. Henry finally grabbed me and pulled me away, and we got into the car and drove off. Left the cardigan right there on the street.

We didn’t really discuss what had happened. I hired a cleaning company that specialised in that kind of clean-up, and they never reported any problems. The house was cleaned up good as new, aired out, all Mum’s stuff either sold or thrown away. Eventually the house sold too, even if it did take a little longer than I’d like. Henry and I got married, managed to buy our first house, and while we’ve mentioned it vaguely a few times we’ve still not really talked about it. I think we both probably mutually agreed that we must have been seeing things, and to be honest I let myself believe that for a while. I mean, there’s no way, right? But recently it’s just been bugging me, and I’ve been dreaming about it. It’s just been on my mind, and I can’t pretend that I didn’t see what I saw any longer. I don’t know if this will be of any use to you, or even if it’s the kind of thing that you go in for, but I thought I would write it down nevertheless. I do feel a little better now, weirdly. I thought reliving it all would make me feel worse, but I’m not going to complain.

ARCHIVIST

Statement ends.

Well. That certainly makes me wish I hadn’t eaten lunch before recording. It all seems mostly standard up until the sentient maggot hivemind, and if it had just been Mrs Jennings present I would say it’s possible she might have been mistaken. It’s a fairly specific thing to see, but given the circumstances and the inherent revulsion most people experience when seeing that many maggots at once, I wouldn’t be entirely surprised if the stress of the situation resulted in Mrs Jennings believing she saw something unusual. There is, however, one more thing included with this statement – a brief affirmation from Mr Jennings, which, while he chose not to go into detail, does affirm that everything in Mrs Jennings’ statement is true to what he himself witnessed. Of course, he wasn’t present with his wife for the entirety of the time period the statement covers, but he was there at the most important part. One person having such a highly specific hallucination would be a stretch, but two people experiencing the exact same highly specific hallucination is even less likely.

Tim contacted the current residents of the house that used to belong to Mrs Jennings’ mother, but they reported nothing at all unusual in the time they had been living there. They were aware of the fact a death had occurred in the house – just as well, really, as Tim was quite happy to tell them about it – but didn’t seem overly bothered. In fact, Tim reported that they seemed almost disappointed that the house hadn’t come with a resident ghost, though looking at Mrs Jennings’ description of her mother, I’m not entirely sure that’s the kind of ghost they would want to have to house share with.

Tim also managed to get in contact with John Atchieson, owner and operator of Atchieson Cleaning Solutions, a company based in Peterborough that, alongside general domestic and commercial cleaning jobs, also specialises in cleaning up biohazardous materials – crime scenes, accident scenes, natural deaths. The case of Mrs Jennings’ mother was found in their records, and Mr Atchieson could remember nothing unusual about it. In a rare stroke of luck, the employee assigned to oversee the clean up at the house was Mr Atchieson’s son, also named John; Mr Atchieson Senior was able to contact him and ask if he remembered anything specific from the site himself, but apparently there was nothing remarkable about the job at all – just a standard decomposition job, hauling away the hazardous materials and cleaning the room with heavy chemicals to try to get rid of the smell. Mr Atchieson Junior helped remove the mattress himself, and reported no maggots of any kind.

Given the lack of physical evidence I would like to claim that there is no basis to this statement, but considering the fact there are two witnesses and this wouldn’t be the first time that a being apparently made of some kind of larvae or insect has been observed wandering about, I’m more inclined to worry about where Mrs Jennings’ mother may have gone, if she was no longer in her bedroom.

End recording.

[tree0frog]

memory maze runner x fem reader part two

masterlist

it had been three years since ably was sent up to the maze followed by newt and Minho and so on and on. the diaries had still not been found the new greenie for this month was chuck a small boy around 12-13 and was most likely the youngest in the glade he wasn't really doing much so he was just wondering around the woods when he notices something sticking up from the ground chuck being himself and brode out of his mind went over to the weird thing and pulled it out of of the ground it was a bag he wanted to see what was inside but couldn't open it he knew newt out be able to help him since he was meant to be helping him in the garden.

chucks pov

the bag was old and looked like it had been there for a while I tried to open it but it was tide too tightly I knew newt could mabey help me so I made my way back to the tall blond boy I hadn't had time to get to know each other but I was still happy for the few I did know once I made my way back to knew he looked at me confused "what you go there greenie "he asked "I'm not sure it was lying in the dirt beside a tree I wanted to look in it but I can't seem to open it"newt laughed "so you want to see if I can open your bloody bag for ya "I looked away rubbing the back of my neck newt took the bag from the theme and opened it everything seemed to be I'm pretty good condition "I have no clue what these are but tonight well show ably alright" newt Spock handing the bad back to me "ok"

time skip

it was later that night at dinner when chuck decided to bring the bad up he knew he wasn't meant to just go up to their leader like that but who the fuck cared not him anyway well Mebay a little but no one needs to know that now do they "ably "the boy said nervously "hey greenie you ok"the boy looked up from his food as well as some of the other keepers at the table "ah e ya I just found this and I wasn't sure what to do with it" Chuck glands at newt the back at alby and handed him the bag the older boy just looked between the two boys but takes they bag anyway.

after dinner newt minho and alby decide to go throw the bag "do you think it will have anything use full in it"?minho asked "probably not it most likely been left by the craters" newt stated as ably started to take the items out of the bag there were 4 book some 8 folded paper a silver band they looked at them one by one until newt Spock up "whos y/n" he looked up at the other two in the room the dairy he had to pick up seemed to be the oldest "are you going to open it"minho asked crossing his arms "ill get to that "the boy laughed the book was filled to the bring of different piced of paper newt started to read the first page.

day one

well hi, I would tell you my name but I don't remember that I'm not sure why though for now ill call myself greenie I don't know why buts let go with it for the now cool. well first of all I woke up in the mettel box thing that took me too long to get out of when I awoke here I'm not sure what ill call it but I don't think ill be leaving any time soon I'm surrounded by four big walls they aren't open but I can hear things moving inside of them oh ya and for some reason, there are animals in the box as well I'm not too sure what's that all about if you wondering why I'm writing this down it is because I for one want to remember this and two if I ever leave this place I can have something to look back on.

I want to say it's about midday or so well once I manage to get out of the box and get everything out as well I were who ever sent me here won't be too happy when I find that if I ever do I just spent today walking about this place it's really big and I seem to be the only one here the people that sent me up here gave some a hammock witch was nice of I guess so I set that up I really hope they send someone else up soon I'm lonely and fuck here.

there's these weird gree bug with that have W.IC.K.E.D. on them I tried to touch one it never went very well I think it will be nice here there's not much to do now but tomorrow ill find something to do it's late now I think, to be honest, I don't know what time it is but the light is fading to em I guess this is a good night

greenie

newt finished reading the three boys look up at each other with a shocked look on their face "should I read more"neat asked the other two just nodded

day 2

well today has been fun I get my name back it's y/n it is weird and I'm not sure if it suits me but at least I have a name to call myself now I started a farm and started to male some bits and bobs around this place I still need a name for it I started to work on making a kitchen like think to keep all of the food I have in I was give some cand food as well as granola bards and bread so that's what iv been eating and im happy to say it went well the walls opened up today I think this is some form of a maze im not sure yet the box hast came back yet im waiting to see how long till it comes up.

it's very hot here but it's nice I just hope it doesn't rain any time soon I found out most of the things here have the word wicked on the still not sure what that means  but you know what shuck that oh ya I also forgot to menschen I made up of new words shuck means such greenie means newbie klunk means shit that's all iv got, for now, I think ill like it here

y/n

"alby when you came up here what was all here, "minho asked still looking shocked "well there was the map room the home shuck the kitchen a smaller farm and the slaughterhouse and a small med bay as well" they all looked at each other "so you telling me that this y/n was here before you built this place and the left leaving their stuff here, "newt asked looked at there leader "look I know as much as you do, "alby said "hey why don't we just go to shucking sleep and come back to this in the morning "minha yawned.

minho had given the runners the day off and alby had called all of the keepers for a gathering about this y/n person "so if your wondering why you all here its because chuck found this yesterday and we wanted to see if we could find any use full info in it so take a piece of paper and get looking all right "alby was followed by mumbles and grows him newt minho and gally had one book each and the others had the pice of paper that had their fallen out of a book or was just there.

about an hour had passed and no one had found anything till gally Spock up "hey I found something "well don't just stand there read it out"alby ordered

day 163

well good even to whoever is reading this today has been a shucking great one I keep having these dreams about a boy called newt and whoever he is they keep saying were twins I don't understand what going on with my head mabey im just going crazy right iv been here alone for so long right

not the point of today I finished mapping out the full maze I the maze opens in bits so one part will open then the next a different one but I don't think it has anything to do with the maze I think it has something to do with the maps and grievers that's what im calling them anywhere there big creatures that have tried to kill me there easy to kill once you get the change of it, oh ya and the box came up again with more things I wish they would send someone else up here im border welp good night

y/n

gally look up to see all eyes on him "newt have you ever heard the name y/n before this "newt shook his head sighing he hadn't before "and what does she if she mean about its not the maze its the maps and grievers "minho asked "I'm not sure but there are somewhat maps they aren't very clear though "frypan stated

they were about to continue when the box alarm went off

[sckyie]

angel | daichi sawamura

word count: 1.2k

genre: guardian angel au, angst??????

pronouns used: gender neutral

a/n: im not good with genres but ill write a part two if people ask for it

✎...

Everyone knows about guardian angels, a spirit who watches you to keep you safe. The angel who watches you life day in and day out. Regardless of religious, there is always someone watching over you to protect you. There was always the rule up above where you could never reveal yourself to your person. But was there ever a rule where you couldn't fall in love with them?

Daichi Sawamura was your person. He was easy to protect, as a cop he didn't have many near death experiences. Except when he almost dropped stock box on top of him, other than that he was safe. You watched him everyday and remembered his routine.

In the morning, he'd wake up to shower then get dressed for work. He makes his coffee then he heads off the station. Daichi starts his shift then at lunch he gets food from the cafe nearby. After work, he calls Sugawara on his way home. At home he either watches TV or reads before going to sleep.

You always wondered what would've happened if he saw you. Today was no different from his normal routine, except his call to Sugawara.

"Hey Dai, I have a question."

"What's up?"

"Do you believe in guardian angels?"

"Huh? That stuff is nonsense. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, someone on the news who almost died claimed they saw an angel saving them."

"It's probably some lunatic. Guardian angels aren't real. It's just science, people just want to believe what they want."

This hurt quite a bit. Hearing the one person you fell for not believe in you. Honestly it wasn't news to you, many people didn't believe in guardian angels too. You were just a myth to him.

Daily reports were a common thing with guardian angels. You'd report the usual, no casualties but another guardian angel noticed something off with you.

"Your wings are grey, is everything alright?" She asked.

"Oh nothing," You sighed.

"He doesn't believe in you, huh?" She replied. "It's alright."

"I wish I could be with him. Be next to him, I love him but- It doesn't seem right, like it's forbidden," You say.

"You don't know that, remember the legend?" She says. "An angel traded his duties to be with his person. I'm not sure what he gave up to be with her but if you ask the big man maybe you could be with him."

"I don't think I want to," You said gloomy. "I'll see you soon, I'd rather sulk alone."

Returning to Daichi, you noticed he was researching something. 'Guardian angel sightings' was in the search bar. Your heart fluttered as you watched him read different articles. "There's a way to see your guardian angel?" He scoffed. "Well, guardian angel, where are you? Show me that this isn't just some hoax."

"I can't," You whispered. "I can't show you I'm real."

"If you can't, show me some sign or something," Daichi joked.

An idea popped up in your mind. You seat yourself beside him and typed into the search bar, 'I'm as real as it gets.' Daichi panicked and nearly dropped his laptop. You worried you scared him off but instead he opened a document. "Type here," He stuttered.

"Do you believe in me now?"

"Wh- how are you real?"

"I can't answer that, I was just created and given this job to protect you."

"Why can't I see you?"

"It's forbidden."

"Really? Wow, how do I know that you're not a ghost?"

"How do you want me to prove it?"

"What's something only a guardian angel could do? What's something only you'd know about me?"

"You nearly killed youself in your work storage room, you tried to put a box away and it almost fell on you. Thankfully I stopped it."

"That was you? Wow, I thought I was just lucky."

"I..."

"Why'd you stop typing?"

The looming figure above you caused you to stop. "Say goodbye to him." The figure says.

"Hello? Did you leave?" Daichi pulled the laptop close to him.

"I have to go," You typed. You slowly moved away from him and turned to the figure next to you.

"You know the rules, you can't let them see you," The figure said. "You aren't even allowed to show them you're around. You might have to be reassigned ."

You remained quiet as you were being scolded. Your wings turned a darker grey. It was known if your that if the color of your wings turned black that you'd disappear. "Your wings," They pointed out. "I'm reassigning you a person."

"I'd rather disappear than lose Sawamura," You say.

"Wherever you went, angel, I'm glad to know someone is watching over me," Daichi says. You made him smile, but your wings only got darker.

"You love him don't you?" The figure says. You nodded.

"It's not allowed," You sighed.

"Do you want to be with him?" They ask. You perked up as those words were said.

"How can I?" You ask.

"You may reveal yourself to him now for 24 hours, but once I bring you into the real world, I'll erase any memories you have of him after today. He'll have to be the one to find you," They say. "Would you like to?"

You nodded and the figure gestured towards you to stand in front of Daichi. A bright light began to appear, catching his attention. You began to fade in and Daichi stood up to approach the light. You take a step down and were able to see him up close. The light fades and his hand was reaching out to you.

"Daichi?" You whispered. His hand touched your shoulder but almost immediately retreats.

"You're here- I thought it was forbidden?" He says.

"It's complicated- I'm only here for 24 hours," You explain. "Then I won't remember you." You mumbled the last part.

"Well, if you're here for the next 24 hours, I'll call in to talk to you. I'm sorry I didn't believe you're real," He says. "If I'm being honest, I thought you'd have wings."

"Oh," You fluttered your wings for them to appear.

"They're almost black? Why is that?" He asks.

"Oh, they turn black if I begin to lose hope, if they turn completely black, I.. I cease to exist," You sighed.

"So you've been with me since I was a baby?" He asks.

"Technically when you were born, I was too," You explained.

"Do you have a name?"

"Y/n," You smile. "Do you have a pen?"

Daichi dug through a drawer and hands you a marker. You take his hand and write your name. The rest of the day he asked you about any near death experiences he's had and how guardian angels work.

He stayed up all night just talked to you up until, thirty minutes left. You sighed and thanked him for making your night. "Look for me yea?" You felt your eyes water. "I don't have much time left."

Twenty minutes.

"What do you mean you won't remember me?" He asks.

Ten minutes.

"I promise to find you, I won't stop looking for you," Daichi held your hands.

One minute.

"I'll make sure you're with me," He wiped away your tears.

Thirty seconds.

You cupped his cheeks and leaned in to kiss him. He held your waist as his lips pressed against yours.

Ten seconds.

You pulled away but you already felt yourself fade away. "I love you," You whispered.

"Don't leave," He says, but you were already gone.

✎...

[365days365movies]

March 7, 2021: Onward (2020) (Part One)

Finding Nemo.

That’s my favorite Pixar film. Real talk, no arguments, and today’s movie? NOT dethroning it. This movie is so hard-wired into my brain, that the second I typed the words of the title, the theme song ran through my head, where it lives rent-free. It will be a cold day when I don’t find an excuse to shout “NEMOOOO!!!! I HAVE TO FIND MY SON!!” at any opportune moment. I will never stop swimming. Whenever I catch a Chinchou or Lanturn in a Pokémon game, I name it “Goodfeeling’sgone”.

SHARK BAIT OOH HA HA

YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE DEPTHS OF MY LOVE FOR THIS MOVIE.

...Ahem. So, yeah, I love FInding Nemo. For the record, the sequel ain’t bad. And also for the record, there’s only one Pixar movie that I consider to be bad, and it’s the one you’d think. You know, the one about ageism. The one where somebody dies by torture? The bad spy movie?

...the second one about cars?

Which means, YES. I DON’T THINK The Good Dinosaur IS THAT BAD! Not exactly good, but its gorgeous, and just kinda boring, not outright terrible. That Styracosaurus, though...that dude is great.

Anyway, off of Pixar for a sec, huh? What about fantasy? I’m a big tabletop RPG nerd, and I’m currently the GM for a Pathfinder campaign, a Pokémon RPG, and a Mutants and Masterminds game, while also playing in a Pathfinder game as well. Yeah, I’m a busy dewd. But what I’m saying is, this movie should be preaching to the choir for me. I’m a Pixar lover who plays RPGs. I’m ready for this. I’m ready for CGI Bright. Which is another way of saying, I’m ready for a version of Bright that doesn’t suck.

So, why haven’t I seen it until now? I mean...COVID-19. This film got FUCKED. But, no matter! It’s on Disney Plus, I’ve got Disney Plus, so let’s get this baby STARTED! Let’s get updated on some Pixar! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

OK, immediately digging the soundtrack over the Disney logo as we jump in here! Very ethereal, very fantasy, very LotR, I LIKE it, I LIKE it! And then...long ago, the world was full of wonder!

We get a view of the world of olde, with magic and many mystical, mythical creatures living together and adventuring. However, as magic wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to use, it eventually gave way to technology, fading away in a world now very similar to ours.

Basically, it’s about the same as our world, except for a few different races, and the fact that dragons are basically dogs, and unicorns are basically raccoons, which is fuckin’ fantastic.

We enter the home of teenage elf Ian Lightfoot (Tom Holland) and introverted now-16-year-old who lives with his mother, Laurel (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) and his older brother Barley (Chris Pratt). Barley’s a tabletop RPG nerd who’s also a fan of the magical past. Said obsessions cause a strain on his relationship with Ian, and with that of his mother’s boyfriend, centaur policeman Colt Bronco (Mel Rodriguez).

After a discussion about Barley’s recent attempt to protect an old magical monument from destruction, he accidentally damages the sweatshirt that Ian is wearing, which was owned by their late father, Wilder. Ian rushes out, flustered, despite Barley’s attempts to bond with him. Well, looks like we have a sense of the plot for this one.

On his way to school, Barley stops to get some food when he meets Gaxton (Wilmer Valderrama), an old college friend of his father’s. From Gaxton, he learns things about his father that he never knew, like that he was bold and standout. From there, Barely pledges to try and be more self-confident, like his father.

Whiiiiiiich, doesn’t exactly work once he gets to school. He fails to stand-up to a jerky guy at school, he fails in his driving class, and he fails to ask other high school kids to his birthday party. But to be fair, Barley helps a bit with that last one when he shows up with Guinevere, his busted-ass van with a unicorn painted on the side. Which is supposed to be uncool...but I kinda dig it, not gonna lie.

After that, Ian completely flubs the invitation bit, confusing the people he was talking to, and disappointing himself in the process. He gets a ride home with Barley, and goes home to talk to a tape recording of his dad. Which is...beautifully sad, and somehow very easy to identify with. So, yeah, it’s gonna be that kind of Pixar movie.

Ian talks to his mom about his father at his age, asking if he was ever unsure. She says yes, but couples this with a surprise: a gift from his late father, who died of a terminal illness shortly after Ian’s birth. The gift is for both Ian and Barley, and was meant to be opened when they were both over 16.

She gets it from the attic, and they unwrap it, where it’s revealed to be a wizard’s staff. Which is weird, because Wilder was an accountant. In a pocket of the wrapping cloth, there’s a letter written by Wilder with the narration from the beginning of the film (that “Long ago” bit).

Also included is a spell, written by Wilder so that he could see who his sons grew up to be. This “Visitation Spell” would appear to be a way to bring Wilder back for 24 hours. Barley, being the magic-lover that he is, tries multiple times to cast the spell with the staff, but fails to do so, much to his and Ian’s great disappointment.

However, when Ian tries to read the spell out of curiosity later, the staff begins to react, and the spell begins to work. Barley comes in as this is happening, and the spell works...halfway. It starts to fail, and Barley offers to help, but Ian pulls the staff away, and the spell stops as the Phoenix crystal inside it shatters.

Looks like another bust, but it’s not a complete failure. And if you’ve seen literally any trailer for this movie, you know what happens.

Although it’s just his legs and feet, it’s still Wilden Lightfoot (Kyle Bornheimer...technically). The boys decide to try and complete the spell, but need another Phoenix Gem to do so. According to Barley’s “historically accurate” TTRPG, Quests of Lore, they will be able to find one by accepting a quest from the place where all quests start: the Manticore’s Tavern. And so, the quest begins!

The brothers and their half-dad board Guinevere and drive to the Manticore’s Tavern. On the way, Barley convinces Ian to practice some spells from the games rulebook, but they don’t work because Ian’s not invoking his passion (or his “heart’s fire”, as Barley calls it). Meanwhile, Laurel figures out where they’re headed, but doesn’t know exactly why...yet.

After the journey, they make it to the Manticore’s Tavern, which is now essentially a themed Chuck E. Cheese’s restaurant, owned and managed by Corey (Octavia Spencer), a very overworked manticore. Which is pretty great, not gonna lie.

They try to get the actual map to the Phoenix’s Gem from her in order to conjure their Dad, but she no longer sends adventurers on dangerous quests, mostly because she doesn’t want to get sued by any injured adventurers. When Ian argues with her about this, she IMMEDIATELY DIVES INTO AN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS/MID LIFE CRISIS!

It’s, uh...it’s kind of amazing. Having completely lost it at this point, she basically tears down the entire building with her bare hands and fire-breath. Unfortunately, the map to the Phoenix Gem is burnt in the process of Corey’s literal meltdown. However, as Wilden’s about to be crushed by a couple of falling beams, Ian taps into his heart’s fire.

Nice. They get out of there, and head out for the Gem, using a child’s placemat replica of the real map to make their way to a place called Raven’s Point. However, rather than just follow the goddamn map, Barley decides to go on much more dangerous road known as the “Path of Peril”, once again following the “call of adventure” and his gut.

Which...yeah, Barley’s not really considering the reality of this whole situation, which fits his personality. He’s a dreamer, despite the rational and reasonable solution in front of him. And, in case you weren’t sure, I’m pretty sure that isn’t a good thing.

Ian points out the correct point that what actually matters is that they send enough time with their father, and they do indeed take the straightforward path. Good! Barley listened to Ian’s suggestion after all. However, they hit another snag when the car breaks down, completely out of gas. Problem.

Meanwhile, Laurel makes her way to the Manticore’s place, only to find it on fire! She meets Corey, who tells her that she’s met her boys, and told them about everything...except the curse. Also, there’s a curse. Laurel, who is the best movie Mom ever, tricks a policeman interviewing Corey to diverting his attention away from her, and smuggles her into her car to help find (and maybe rescue) her sons. 

Stuck off the freeway without gas, a desperate Ian asks Barley if there are any spells that can get them more gas. They concoct a plan involving a shrinking and growing spell, but that immediately goes wrong as Barley tries to instruct Ian, only frustrating him further, and causing him to fumble the spell and hit Barley with it, making him tiny. 

They decide to head to a gas station, where a group of pixie bikers has just arrived. This backfires when Barley, lacking basically any common sense, ends up insulting the biker leader, Dewdrop (Grey Griffin) and her ancestors. Nice one, Barley. As they escape from the pissed off pixies, the tiny Barley is unable to drive, forcing the driver’s anxiety-riddled Ian to drive, overcoming his fears from earlier by force, being chased by the pixies all the way. It’s a pretty good sequence, to be honest.

Well, they escape the Pixies...but not the cops. And I think that’ll be a good place to pick up in the next part! See you there!