#kept my frames bc who has money for new frames and I also like my frames so

[derelictheretic]

eye test done I am not going blind huzzah

[havethetouch]

Gen Life Update (a bit ranty tho)

Figured I write a thingie because I noticed some time has passed me by again because stuff got hectic and ehh the radio silence was not intended but might hold for a bit.

Here is the thing - back in November 2022 my best friend and I had some talks about the future, we are roommates, she has a boyfriend who wants to move in together and our lease will end this year and well.. we put a maybe on moving out in general or extending the lease for a year back then, mainly because such a talk was a bit scary and weird.

For context, we both moved out at age 19 from our family homes and moved in together because were we life living alone is not feasible it is too expensive (and it has only gotten worse since) so we have been cohabitating for over 10 years now and such a big change is just... damn.

Anyway fast forward to the beginning of the year were we got back to that talk and decided yeah, moving out it is we do not like the flat much we hate our landlord because he is a piece of shit but we also have no energy nor want to find a new flat that is kinda affordable (almost impossible) and meets our standards because we are in our 30s now and are not willing to go back to living in a small flat like we used to before this one we have right now (even more impossible these days we pay too much for too little space already)

Now we are suddenly at "fuck this we goin!" because roughly two weeks ago our landlord decided to send a formal letter to inform us that we should pay him more money by the beginning of March. Which: fuck off. Pissed off is a cute way to describe how I regarded this shitty piece of paper from a piece of shit person :) So we went from "maybe" to "we gonna write a formal termination letter today weeehhh~"

What our landlord don't know is that in our first year of living here and noticing that he is difficult (example - one off the electrical outlets is broken, has apparently been broken for a while, this is a wee bit not good and he basically gave us a formal warning that this is our problem we should pay to fix that which is legally not true and just bs but I kept the letter so if he wants to fuck us over I have proof that he was aware of the issue and did not care There were other issues with the flat too like heating did not work at first, a window mechanism broke in winter and every time we called to have this fixed he dragged his feet, screamed a bit at us and was a lil bitch about it. For the record, I fixed the window myself after training myself on youtube videos and other stuff to identify the problem and then get creative with fixing that because a part was simply broken in the metal frame which would have meant to replace the whole window mechanism and he would not have paid that shit so I had to made do so my roommate would not freeze in the night bc her window was not closing properly (fuck this man so much eyyyy))

Anyway so we noticed he was a prissy bitch which probably was fueled by the fact that he is both rich and a lawyer and therefore two people he clocked as young as stupid clearly can't outwit his greatness and be too difficult because clearly we would not fight him or whatever. Jokes on him, we joined the tenant union in our first year of his bs and dutifully paid our fees to have help on standby when things get even more dicey. So things are dicey now and I know he will probably try to fight us tooth and nail to keep as much of the security deposit as possible and make things hard he is just this kind of a douchebag. But since we are members of this union we have a right to a lawyer from them at no additional cost (which is a perk you reach after 1 year of memebership god bless them) and they are already alerted of the situation and will help us not only combat his rent increase demand (which he technically can do but he did not do it the legal way and so we have grounds to refuse atm, also hitting us well into February with a sudden "this new price at the beginning of the next month" is also not quite legal either soooo) And yeah so we prepare ourselves for a big blow up on our landlords part because he is deeply allergic to people who do not cower and know their rights. So we are down to "moving out? Nah, exit strategies are planned over here now". My bestie will move out in two weeks we currently pack her stuff and dismantle her furniture and I will not stay here for long either. We will have to adhere to the notice period of our termination but hey maybe he just throws up his hands and terminates from his end to make the time shorter so he can get new folks in asap. It will be fun to deny him prominent viewing spots for new prospective tenants simply bc I work from home and have meetings and can't reasonably be expected to be disturbed by viewings and also can not be expected to vacate the premises bc work. I mean I will fuck off from here asap too I am done with the flat, the landlord and if I'm honest, I'm kinda really tired of the city too. Don't get me wrong i love Vienna with all my hart but there is also lots of bs that happened in this city and I am so ready for just getting outta here and go rural.

As for a more positive note to end this on (kind of) I will be moving into my forever home (possibly). We had some deaths in the family in the last four years and some of you know one of them was my dad. he left me this house and while i have still some reservations to call it my own, I am ready to start my life there and make it my own. Still have to go through some stuff because a lot of the stuff from our dead relatives ended up in the house because we had nowhere else to put it than there so we have to make some room to store my stuff at least and then I can slowly work on the rest. I am still kinda apprehensive about a lot of stuff because there are just many ghosts in this house and it will be hard but it also probably will be freeing and good and I want to tend to my garden and despair on the possibilities on so much space like the house is big, I am used to live out of one room and now soon will have two extra rooms to do as I please with and this is wild to me. all of this is kinda wild to me because I never had much money and with how expensive everything is in the city never had much opportunity to put money aside in the first place I was unemployed for a while some years ago i am used to surviving on little and worked myself into somewhat comfortable as i am currently. Moving into this house will be a game changer because it is paid off. This will absolutely change my life in so many ways, many many good ways. I have rich people dreams on renovating the bathroom because I would love to have a bathtub and it doesn't sound as crazy anymore to think along these lines. Wild. But first I have to pay off some debts and my teeth and then watch me go willllld I guess xd It also is a bit bittersweet bc like I said, my best friend and I (we met at 15 and have been inseparable since then) have been living together for so long and I personally have never lived on my own ever in my life and this is kinda exciting but spooky and I look forward to it but also stress out already over all the stuff I have to think about ahead and plan but ehhh for the first time in 4 years I am actually looking forward to the future and feel tentatively hopeful and this is also kinda heavy because it's been a while since I did that, the last 4 years were just a bit too hard to look past the next day or even beyond that. But now I look at my plans for just 2023 and I'm like "fuck yeah, screw surviving I'm ready for thriving" So... Imma be a bit more busy in the next days than I had expected due to vacating my flat as fast as possible and I hate moving but i love the idea of this being the final time so bear with me I work on art still in my downtimes when I need some cleansing but yehhh bit busy. Wee bit busy but finally busy with better things. Hopeful things. Life stuff, you know?

Love ya~

[firebirdsdaughter]

So…

… I think part of Neal���s problem is that even when he’s not on a con, he acts like he is.

For ex. rewatching Honour Among Thieves and I genuinely don’t think he planned it—or if he was supposed to have planned it, no one told Matt Bomer, which would kinda defeat the purpose. My rationale being that even though no one is watching him, he reacts in genuine surprise to how fast the FBI shows up at the end. Also he had no reason to hide the plan from Mozzie, who would support it, and instead we only see him brooding about the theft—although one could argue that that’s bc of the show’s habit of only showing selective scenes to hide the whole plan, yaddyada…

But I just don’t think he was planning that far ahead. I think he was genuinely upset and stressed about the blackmail and upset at the idea of going behind Peter’s back that he didn’t think that far ahead.

But I also can’t blame Peter for thinking he might have—bc honestly what he should have done, even after she framed him, was just tell Peter. Explain that Abigail was blackmailing him into the job, and hell, they might’ve even helped and made it a bonafide sting. But he doesn’t. Bc Neal doesn’t tell people things outside of emergency circumstances, and it seems to be a habit he can’t break. The fact that he kept this from Peter obviously makes Peter suspicious, bc it makes it seem like Neal planned it. But he didn’t. He defaulted to ‘fixing’ it himself, yet another habit he can’t seem to kick, the not relying on people.

I love the show, and this ep was actually well done on both sides, but at times I do agree that they try to force drama between Neal and Peter a little. I appreciated reading an interview by one of the show runners noting that they were struggling w/ that, which I think become visible a few times bc, to paraphrase ‘why are you still being a jerk to this guy who has done so much for you?’ Matt Bomer makes Neal likeable even in some of his more obnoxious moments (usually when they start going on about how wonderful being a thief is and I’m like… kinda sucks from here, but okay?), but there are occasions were I feel like Neal behaves suspiciously and then gets upset that Peter suspects him of something (not you s3, you and your character development are wonderful and I’m glad you’re here), or Peter gets made to be a bit overly nasty just to cause drama.

Honestly, my memories of the later seasons are kinda blurry, esp towards the end, but from what I’ve seen from other people, they are on good terms at the end, and the whole finale actually isn’t Neal running away to ‘live the high crime life’ again (like I originally thought, hence why I hadn’t really watched it) and is more along the lines of guerrilla witness protection? Bc faking your death and fleeing the city bc you’re trying to protect the people you love from a violent gang is one thing, but ‘waaaaahhh I wanna go back to stealing and using people and only caring about money’ is… Another. If it’s the former, I actually love that, bc it’d show how he’d changed from the start of the show to really start valuing people, whereas the second one just feels like ‘lol conman cool guys.’ Also makes the whole storage container thing (which I do know about) more of a promise of return than a farewell, bc I really dislike the latter.

I don’t care about Neal who only wants adrenaline rushes and money and lying to people bc it’s fun. I care about Neal who is intelligent and maybe a bit vain, impulsive and well meaning, faster talker, quirky, loves his adoptive parents and really needs to meet his new baby brother.

Like if you’re never gonna show me big Neal holding baby Neal, at least let me pretend it could happen eventually.

[maccreadysimp]

breaking down this anti-ian article bc it bothers me ( from the child of a bipolar mother and a male teen with same sex attraction ) while also providing valid reasons ian sucks ( from someone who likes ian )

ive had this drafted for a while so i dont think i cover anything from season 11

tw for i^cest and r^pe

he was with a married man

in this point it points out that he was with kash and he continued his relationship with kash even after linda put cameras in the store

“Ian didn't seem to care about how wrong his affair with Kash was or how much it could hurt Kash's wife Linda, whom he saw at the store regularly. “

that is a quote from that part.

ian gallagher was fifteen in season one, kash was an older man who bought him gifts and payed attention to ian ,, that was not on ian , none of that was ian fault because he was a child

ian wasnt open with lip

“ Ian didn't tell Lip about his preferences and forced Lip to figure it out on his own. Lip was instantly accepting of his brother's truth and even offered to help him figure out any confusion he might be harboring, so it's really strange that Ian wasn't just upfront with his closest confidant from the start.”

no , lip wasnt forced to figure it out on his own and he also wasn’t instantly accepting.

in this point it mentions that ‘they’re extremely close ( bestfriends and brothers ) so its strange ian didnt tell him’

like point 1 , ian is a fifteen year old boy, growing up on the southside , and thoughout the show it has mentioned multiple times that the southside isnt that accepting

back to lip -- lip wasnt accepting, sure he was fine but ‘helping your younger brother figure it out’ by having a (female) classmate give him a blowjob isnt helping

he secretly dated his best friends brother

“Most friends have an unspoken rule about not dating each other's siblings, but Ian broke this rule by secretly entering into a relationship with Mandy's closeted brother Mickey.”

the only thing i have to say about this is , he was still with kash and mickey was a boy in his age group who was gay , growing up in the southside ian probably thought he was the token gay so of course hes going to chase after mickey

he stood by as kash attacked mickey

“Ian didn't do anything to stop Kash from shooting his new lover, and didn't even tell the police about his boss' over-the-top display of jealous action so proper justice could be served.”

okay. because two men he had fallen for had gotten into a fight, there was a gun involved and he panicked, in the end after mickey got shot he went to him

now to address the quote, he didnt say anything to the police because he probably knew that that would bring shame onto kash and his family, along with mickey and his family who are very homophobic

oh yeah and it was like 2011 and cops suck and THEY LIVE ON THE SOUTHSIDE

he and lip tried framing terry milkovich

oh the homophobic and racist dad of his boyfriend and bestfriend who tried to kill him and r*ped his daughter ?

yeah , shit man , that was real bad they shouldn’t have done that /s

he dated jimmy-steves married father

“Ian didn't bother telling Jimmy the truth about his father and didn't end his relationship with Lloyd upon finding out that he had a secret wife and family, either.”

at this point ian is probably sixteen but that doesnt matter bc i wont even address that

he met him at a club and then used his relationship with ned to make mickey jealous which was one of the reasons he kept seeing him, he didnt tell jimmy-steve about the relationship or his father bc he shouldnt find out from him he should find out from his father , again like kash, ned was an older man who payed attention to ian and ned later did develop feelings feelings for ian

he stole lips identity to enlist in the army

he enlisted because he didnt know what to do with himself, its implied/stated that the army timeline was the start of his bipolar

“While impersonating Lip, Ian had tried to steal a helicopter and then proceeded to go AWOL.”

this is because of the bipolar he suffers from, it is referenced later in the series after he gets back and hes manic

ian refused to accept being bipolar

of course he didnt accept it, it is made very clear that his family thinks lowly of monica so of course if hes the lucky duck to get what his siblings demonize her for, of course he’ll not want to be it

“He refused to take medications that could alter his personality or mood.”

okay. this is why im making this whole post, this goes along with part 15 ( or so idk ) ,,

my mother , my dear mother, who is bipolar and doesnt take her meds because they are mood altering , my mom doesnt take med because she told me once that they make her feel like shit, she told me that a little after i was born she started taking them but realized she felt nothing, she felt nothing for my dad or for i ( making her numb )

she told me anti deppresents dont help either because when shes on them and manic it pushes her past productive and into angry

my dad told me that when my mom was on bi polar medication she would seem angry most of the time

he wasnt faitful to mickey

“Ian's bipolar disorder made him very reckless and impulsive and led him to be unfaithful.”

lets break that down.

ians. bipolar. disorder.

this plot point i actually didnt like, mainly bc ian never addresses it so ill give the article a point. but then i take away 2 because they have more of a problem with his bipolar messing with him rather than the fact he never apologized and they never worked it out

ian stole yevgeny

before i start quoting i should mention because his boyfriend, who has supported and helped him is suddenly telling him he needs help, he was helping raise yev so he’ll see yev as his own

“Ian failed to recognize just how crazy he was acting...”

cuting you off right there , he was in a bipolar state, he wasnt ‘crazy’ and isnt ‘crazy’

he cant even keep count of his number of partners

just slutshaming i see

he helped throw frank off a bridge

“His relationship with Frank was understandably never the same after that, as Frank struggled to get over this act of betrayal and cruelty.”

‘was never the same after that’ frank never liked ian, ian was probably his least favorite and that point is very apparent

also , it wasnt just ian , his siblings and his boyfriend caleb

he left a healthy relationship to be with mickey

he fell in love with mickey at 15 , mickey was a comfort and always someone to fall back on, when mickey was taken away and no longer in the picture his heart still obviously was with mickey and when mickey came back he didnt know what to do

he told mickey he had a boyfriend but because mickey has been such a constant in his life he finally has back of course he couldnt resist

he liked trevor, i could tell he did but trevor wasnt the one he watched get r^ped by a russian prostitute, he wasnt the one ian was secretly dating bc it would be a death wish other wise, he wasnt the one there when ian was manic or depressive ( at the start )

he tried blackmailing an old client for money

“Instead of raising the money in an honest manner, Ian chose to visit an old client from his time working at the Fairy Tail and blackmail him into funding the shelter.”

because he felt indebted to trevor and wanted to make it up to him, it would have taken longer to do it in ‘an honest manner’ when his sister would have gotten it instead, he knew how much gay youths like he once was needed a safe place

“He grew up wanting to be nothing like his father, but this whole money-making scheme was straight out of the Frank playbook”

because thats all he knows, he grew up with that ‘playbook’ so of course hes going to take a page out of it, he is nothing like frank , franks money making schemes are selfish and for his own greed while ian wanted the money to help build a safe space for lgbt youth

he let fame inflate his ego

of course he did, hes a southside kid who was destined to fail

also it is very apparent that during the gay jesus era he went off his medication which didnt help

“Before long, he just completely forgot about his ex and focused solely on being a deity”

as much as yes, he did let it mess with his head, he was trying to still help lgbt youth and was going against anti gay churchs , in the end it didnt work out for him because he was off his meds and went over board

he stopped taking his meds

see previous point and ‘ian refused to accept being bipolar’

he actually wanted to stay in prison

because he was doing good in there

ian was helping others and was spreading awareness about lgbt with in the prison , and as him and jail scenes go , we can see people were listening to him and he was trying to make it safe sane and consensual

he let down his army of followers

“Ian admitted that most of his actions were completely irrational and the mere results of his bipolar disorder.”

he didnt want to, we can see this, because he knew he would let down everyone, his family were the only ones to ever ground him and they knew it would be the best option for his own mental health

during the gallavich wedding we can see that a lot of his supporters still have his back because they must know how hard it was for him to put all of that success on something he can’t control

he constantly wasted his potential

this is actually the only point in this article i actually agree with , so only 1/20 i agree with

his relationship with mickey wasn’t actually great

“Mickey spent the first several years of their relationship denying his feelings for Ian.”

he was raised by a homophobic and racist father who he knew would react the way he did when terry had caught the two that one day

“Even after he finally embraced his true self, Ian's bipolar disorder kept them from becoming truly happy together.”

yes but mickey was there for him the entire time and helped him through it, he told him he loved him which was really big for him and did his best to care for him

“They couldn't seem to remain faithful to each other for more than a few weeks.”

back to the point about ians bipolar but for mickey he wanted monogamy , now that scene in s11 may say otherwise but it is very clear that he wants a monogamous relationship with ian and ian ( after getting help ) wants one too, and in the later seasons they are monogamous

“When Mickey asked Ian to run away to Mexico with him, Ian refused.”

he wanted to, it’s obvious, but ian has his family and didnt want to abandon them again, i think part of him knew he would see mickey again because they always find eachother, he gave mickey all of his money and wanted mickey to have a good life

“Their relationship was simply never healthy.”

no it wasnt, but thats why the ship is great in its own way, the gay closet kid raised by a homophobic man is obviously going to have a lot of baggage , and ian who is bipolar and struggling with himself will also have a lot of baggage , but in the end they love eachother and that really shows in season five and season seven specifically

that is all lol ,,, this is long sorry

now, i am not a ian apologist , i love ian but hes a dumbass sometimes

actual valid reasons ian sucks

genuinely believes frank is worse than terry

yes frank was definitely abusive but terry is definitely worse ,,

mentally/physically/sexually abusive , the whole nine yards

terry hired a prostitute to r^pe his son , threatened to kill him and ian on multiple occasions , r^ped his daughter who ended up pregnant and is actively racist

frank on the other hand will make gay jokes but in the end doesnt give enough of a shit , he has attacked his children on multiple occasions but not to the brutality that terry has ( this isnt me excusing it )

sorry ian , terry is worse

never apologized

he never apologized for all the shit he put mickey and his family through, never apologized to mickey for cheating on him , never apologized for all the manic and depressive episodes mickey endured with him

never apologized for walking away when he couldn’t handle it, in hall of shame mickey actually acknowledges this saying ‘its youre whole MO’

debbies sexuality

he has constantly made statements saying debbie isnt gay and that bothers me because , why does it care ? as a gay man and as a gay man who soent time with a lot of lgbt youth wouldnt he support his sister even if shes just ‘experimenting’?

in the recent season he doesnt seem to care and doesn’t say anything but it still bothers me

mickey only getting like 80% of his heart

okay look , i get what ian means when he says this , everyones hes been with has made him who he is but fucking hell dude ,, shut up , thats your husband , thats the love of your life you shouldnt be saying shit like that , especially to him

and then this man had the audacity to say mickey probably feels the same about past flings when he knows that ian is the only one hes probably ever been with/serious about

obviously there is probably more but those are the main ones that come to mind

—

before anyone brings up the trans or bi thing im going to explain my thought process for him

like ive probably mentioned multiple times he grew up southside and obviously only ever grew up with lgb and not t ,, trevor did inform him a lot and ian became supre accepting of everyone,, sexual preference isnt transphobic but i do think he approached the matter badly

now the bi thing , legit all i think is that he doesnt hate bisexual people its just that the man he really liked slept with a woman and never expressed any heterosexual attraction so it probably just suprised him and pissed him off because caleb did cheat on ian

—

if you read this far HOLY SHIT THANKS LOL ,, im not adding things that i think are pro about ian this was just me breaking down that article and giving my two cents :)

feel free to message me and talk to me or send me articles like this about any other character/relationship and i will totally break that one down too lol

thanks for letting me rant

[newhologram]

I've been doing some thinking and realizing just how far back this all goes. Those of you who know me and my family IRL may have a hard time believing the emotional abuse and gaslighting because whenever you've met them, they seemed fine. They may have even bragged about me to you which made you think that they thought very highly of me. They also may have neglected to inform you that I have been disabled by chronic illness the past 10 years (many of my other family members had no idea until they spoke to me personally. It's... really fucking weird? To just not tell anyone that your offspring is in bed all day in horrible pain and constantly at the doctor/ER?). Unfortunately this is also part of the gaslighting, putting on a persona of parental perfection so that no one believes me when I try to talk about it. Instead people, even within my family, make excuses for the abuse and say that I should just be grateful. Behind closed doors it's always been very different. In the event that me processing this in private spaces gets out to them (which WILL endanger me): This isn't about *~exposing~* or *~revenge~* or *~punishment~*, it's about putting the pieces together and saying, yeah, I'm right to finally put my foot down about the way I have been treated. This is my experience. This is my trauma. I'm finally claiming that after a lifetime of being told that these experiences and my pain around them are apparently "not real" (gaslighting). By talking about this, I am not victimizing myself, but empowering myself. Because none of this treatment was ever my fault. None of it was ever deserved. And none of this is to be blamed on my "response" to abuse. I hope that by talking about this I can paint a picture of the dynamic and inspire investigation into the health of your own family dynamics too. "But they're family" is literally what enables this kind of abuse to continue. And I'm done. My health and survival is more important than upholding a toxic family system. They're learning that the hard way, finally. I don't think my family members are bad people. I truly do love and care for them. They have some amazing qualities. They love animals and they've come a long way to now being LGBTQ+ allies even if they don't always use the right words. But they have a lot of flaws that most likely come from their own trauma... But these aren't just self-contained flaws. Because I am the one who will be undoing the damage for the rest of my life. I don't know if they will ever go to therapy themselves, but I certainly won't be waiting around for them to work on themselves if it means I'm going to continue to be mistreated and re-traumatized. - It's always been this way but things definitely got worse in my home when I became disabled (possibly bc it triggered insecurities in them?). Both parents ignored me to my face all my life. I'd say or ask something, and there'd be no response most of the time. If I said, "hey, I'm talking to you, that's rude" they would blow up at me about "WHAT. WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY. I HAVE THINGS ON MY MIND OKAY I HAVE MY OWN LIFE". This happened even when I was a literal child. I grew up believing that nothing I had to say was worth hearing and that if they ignored me that it was because I was unimportant and annoying. But if I ignore them or take too long to respond because I'm thinking, they scold me me about being rude, that they are my parents and I need to respect them. My emotions and pain have been invalidated since I was a child too. I would get picked up from afterschool care, or my bully's house, and of course I'd be crying from enduring a day of bullying. I would say, "I didn't do anything to them, it's not fair." And my dad's response was always, "WELL GUESS WHAT LIFE'S NOT FAIR. WAIT UNTIL YOU'RE AN ADULT IN THE REAL WORLD." He has continued to say this to me on a regular basis whenever I am struggling, either with work, friends, relationships, a death, or my chronic illnesses. I wonder why he has never considered my world to be real? Why is my reality not real to him? What

makes that even more painful is that I was still sent day after day to the school where I was bullied, to afterschool care with my bullies, and to my bullies' homes. No matter how much I was always crying when they picked me up, they just kept sending me back. And then a few of my dad's girlfriend's had children who bullied me too. I literally could never escape it. If it wasn't that, his response to me crying about something would be, "YOU HAVE NOTHING TO CRY ABOUT. YOU'RE LIVING THE LIFE OF LUXURY HERE, YOU DON'T PAY RENT! JUST WAIT UNTIL YOU'RE OUT THERE HAVING REAL PROBLEMS!" Again, he said this to me when I was a 24 year old who was suddenly in the span of a year so disabled that I could barely work. I was scared for my future, because I had taken the time to educate myself about my illnesses, and I knew that things were going to be hard for me. What I needed was support, not "tough love" and emotional invalidation. I was also scared of the situation I am in now. I was scared that I was going to be too sick to afford to move out and that by age 30 I would still be stuck at home with a parent who did not see my reality, my pain, as real. I am living that and it's not fun. Whenever I tried to talk to him about this invalidation, it just turned into a fight, because he refuses to admit the things that he said, and says things like "That's a You Problem" which he has said since I was a child in response to him hurting my feelings. I have always thought it was worth the effort to communicate to my loved ones this sort of issue, because that's what I was taught at school. If there's an issue, you talk about it. But my family doesn't believe that I guess. - When I first got sick, I was throwing up a lot. It had built up over several years since I was 19 but then after I was officially diagnosed with my Big 4 (colitis/fibro/ME/narcolepsy) I started having really dangerous vomiting attacks. The first attack I had lasted 6 days. I lost 12lbs. I overheard my dad complaining on the phone to a friend that I was keeping him up all night throwing up. I felt so bad for bothering him, I had learned to value his comfort over mine. But after the third day of nonstop vomiting, I told my dad I needed to go to the ER, that something was wrong. He sighed and rolled his eyes and said I didn't need to go. He was so annoyed with me for being sick. I was completely pale. I hadn't eaten anything. I could barely keep water down. I argued but he wouldn't listen. I went back to throwing up, at this point just dry-heaving. A while later I said, "I'm taking myself to the ER." I grabbed my car keys and my dad stopped me. He said, "That's ridiculous, you aren't driving yourself to the ER, I'll do it." But he still wouldn't take me for some reason. I don't know if he just didn't want to pay the copay or what. But I was literally trapped. I tried to fight it and said, "If you're going to take me, then take me. If not, let me take myself." I kept throwing up for three more days before he finally agreed to take me. The ER was packed so I ended up going to urgent care, where the nurse scolded me. She said I really should've gone to the ER after the third day of vomiting. She said that if I had gone a 7th day I could have collapsed. I didn't know how to tell her that I had tried. She asked where my family was and I said my dad had to go to work so he had just dropped me off. She had tears in her eyes and she held my hand. She said, "he should be here with you." THAT is how sick I was. That year, I went to the ER three more times. Each time I would be sobbing and ashamed of myself just for bothering my dad and for him having to pay the copay since I was too sick to earn the money myself. Again, that's how little I had learned to value myself and my health. By my birthday that year, I was suicidal from this shame. A few months later, in the new year, I started having vomiting attacks again. My dad stood over me while I was hunched over the toilet gagging and he said something I will never be able to forget, "You need to snap out of it

because I can't go through this again." He was the victim of my illness. He was the victim of my pain. This year was when my dad told me that he and his gf had been "talking" and that they had decided it was "time for me to be independent". He said they'd even help me find an apartment. I cried and said, "Dad, I'm sick. I've been so sick the past year. How am I supposed to afford even splitting rent with a roommate when I'm in bed in a neckbrace all day long?" and his response was, "But your dad needs his bachelor pad." I couldn't even identify what I was feeling. I was so shocked. Did he really think having the apartment to himself so he could have girls over was more important? But he was always telling me that I was the most important person in his life. I was so confused.

He gave me a time frame to move out and I was terrified. I thought my life was over. But most of all, I thought, "it's not fair to my dad that I'm sick." I thought so little of myself and my pain because that is what I learned as a kid. I blamed myself for not being "strong enough" to power through these debilitating illnesses. I blamed myself for my dad's money troubles. I literally could not live with myself knowing that my dad had to support me. I was so ashamed that I learned to vomit quietly so that he wouldn't notice. I was in a constant state of suicidality for several years after this. And it's no wonder, because year after year my dad has barged into my room to harass me about "it's time to be a Real Adult! It's time for you to Contribute to the household! You need to Make Money! I'm HEMORRHAGING money supporting you! I'm having to use my savings!" and because I was too sick to do this, I felt like a complete failure who did not deserve to live. I was self-harming constantly because I hated myself for "doing this" to my father. He had convinced me that I was the villain. I would start freaking out about money, forcing myself to work even if it meant vomiting literally on set (and almost being sent home bc of it, but I insisted I was fine to work). But I still couldn't make enough to afford my medical expenses. So I would shame-spiral and be suicidal again and then suddenly the story would change. My dad did a complete 180 and said, "Why are you even worried about money? We're doing fine. Even if I didn't have to support you, it wouldn't make that big of a difference in the money that I spend on this household. Don't worry about it." And then as soon as bills were due, he was back to telling me that I needed to make money. Back to saying we spent too much money on food despite me not eating that much. Back to refusing to try shopping somewhere cheaper when I suggested ways to save money. When I brought this up to my therapist back then, she said, "He's giving you mixed messages. Maybe you should bring this up to him so he realizes he's doing it." But when I did bring it up, of course my dad denied doing this and called me ungrateful even as I worked two jobs. When I eventually got a third job (fucking up my health more) to pay off my medical debt, my dad patted my back and told me how proud he was. When I told my therapist that he denied it, she suggested I bring him in so she could help us communicate. When I asked him to come with me to therapy, he got angry and said, "I am NOT going to therapy with you, that is ridiculous." But even with those 3 jobs it still wasn't enough and I was constantly being pulled between "YOU HAVE TO MAKE MONEY RIGHT NOW END OF THE WORLD" and "uhh why are you even worried about money, you need to work your mindset..." When bugged about money I would ask, "What else do you want me to do? I'm working 3 jobs. I'm not hiding money from you. I'm sending you everything that is leftover after I pay my own bills. I've even been buying a lot of my own food, I've been living off ramen and cans of ravioli." And he never had an answer except "just make more money." -- Now to the dynamic I'm currently living in. My dad moved his gf and her dog in without talking to me about it to see if it was going to impact my health. She was only supposed to stay here for maybe 4-5 days while she figured out a new home situation. But when I asked my dad about it in the days leading up to her arrival, suddenly the answer was "oh, she's staying indefinitely." I had no say in it. But we had a talk about what I needed to make this work. I said to my dad that the most important thing was that I have some scheduled quiet time. If I'm recording content or editing audio, I'm going to need quiet that morning so I can get my work done. If I'm resting, I need there to not be shouting or slamming doors happening in the house. He assured me that this was fine and that it'd all be easy for the three of us. The first weekend she was moved in, I let my dad know that I was editing audio that morning and needed

some quiet. He was cheerful and said, "No problem!" I thought wow, this is different. This is nice! This is going to be great for my productivity and health. As soon as I started editing, his gf was blasting music in the kitchen (right next to my room) and they were both laughing and talking loudly just a few steps away from my door. I thought, okay, we talked about this. But I'll just power through. When I was done, I went to my dad and said in a calm manner, "Hey, so this morning I let you know ahead of time that I was editing audio but there was still a ton of music and stuff in the kitchen, so it made it take a lot longer for me." His eyes immediately went dark. He put on an angry parent voice and said, "Okay, I am about to pop. I have enough going on without worrying about making too much noise for you." I said, calmly still, "We talked about this, though, and you assured me it wasn't a problem that I needed this quiet time for editing. So I'm not sure what to do. I'm just letting you know that there was still loud music right next to my room even though we had talked about it." He responded, "Then you need to be more specific because I don't know what you're doing in there." I corrected, "But I told you this morning that I was going to be editing audio and you said it was no problem to have some quiet in the kitchen while I did so." He got more aggressive, "No, you need to be more specific." Again, "I was specific. I told you the time frame that I was going to be editing audio in. You said you understood. I don't know what else to do to fix this other than by openly communicating to you about it." I started crying because--I mean, uhh?? This is gaslighting. I couldn't believe that mere hours after I had specifically told my dad that I was editing audio and that he had assured me it was no problem to have some quiet, that he was accusing me of not telling him what I needed, and that he had not agreed to it or something. Like wtf. He got nastier and blamed me for his stress. But me crying triggered his guilt so he tried to soothe himself by hugging me like he does and I pulled away. I tried to emphasize to him that I'm not just making content for fun. I'm literally trying to make money and contribute to the household like he has told me I need to do for the past 8 years. And when he disrupts my editing process, it just makes it take longer, and it makes it harder for me to earn extra money. His gf was also super rude to me when I tried to be friendly and have a conversation with her. I was telling her about how great it felt to have my sister initiate a conversation about my gender identity and she interrupted me (like she does constantly) to say, "YOU KNOW YOUR SISTER DOESN'T ACTUALLY GIVE A SHIT, RIGHT?" (wtf...) After this, I didn't speak to them for three days. I was feeling the urge to self-harm that whole weekend and all I could do was stay in bed crying after that. I knew if I spoke to them I would just get triggered so I was protecting myself. My dad felt guilty and tried to talk to me in my room. I tried to explain how triggering this whole situation is for me and he said he would do anything to make it easier for me. I had told him what I needed but that he had gaslighted me about it. - This next and last part is going to illustrate the priorities in this household. A few years ago, I started having problems with hives. I spent almost a whole year having very painful breakouts all over my body. It kept me up all night and caused me so much discomfort during the day. I kept telling my dad about it (no response, or annoyed responses), I went to the doctor several times about it (useless ointments), and suffered month after month. I tried so many things, I thought maybe it was bugs, spiders, etc. My asthma was also acting up and I remembered that an ex-neighbor had been suspicious of mold because of their health issues getting better the second they moved out. They had told me back then that we should test for mold. I brought it up to my dad that I had been suffering from this for

long enough and that we should do something about it (mold also makes fibromyalgia and ME way worse). He angrily snapped, "What do you want me to do about it?" I suggested we ask the landlord to mold test the apartment. He refused bc he doesn't like to bother the landlord. I said that I would just order a mold kit myself and he said, "No, let me do it, I'll pick the right one." But he wouldn't even after I kept reminding him. Even after I sent him links to mold kits that we could order. After I got rid of my mattress, my hives got a lot better but I still have issues every now and then. For years I have just lived with this because I couldn't get him to even care about the fact that I was spotted with these big pink hives. When his gf moved in, we had a random rainy day, which seems to have activated the mold. His gf got one tiny little hive and the sniffles. She said to him once, "Hey, I think you have mold in this house." Want to guess what happened after that? You're right. He immediately ordered several mold test kits. I said to my therapist, "How am I supposed to feel about that? Is it really unreasonable, am I really in the wrong to feel hurt by that?" My therapist said, "I mean, I would feel completely invalidated and like I didn't matter." This isn't the first time empathy has been withheld from me obviously (above examples during my flare ups), but sometimes even when it's right in front of him he just can't bring himself to care for some reason. One time a big piece of glass was in my thumb. I said, "Ahhh, glass, help! Glass!" He was eating snacks in the kitchen and just glanced at me, didn't move or say anything. I realized he wasn't going to help, so shaking and bleeding, I managed to pull the glass out with tweezers very painfully. It bled so much and I stood over the sink trying to stop it. My dad just kept eating his snacks, not asking if I was okay or anything, he didn't even look at me. After 5 minutes I still couldn't get the blood to stop and asked my dad if he could help, maybe get me some gauze. He put food in his mouth and sighed, "Just put pressure on it" and walked away. It feels like he's just disgusted with me. I know that he does love me and that he's trying the best he can with all of his mental/emotional/personality flaws but he thinks that just because he puts a roof over my head that he can treat me however he wants and not work on his issues, that it's my fault for being hurt. He thinks that his issues are all on me to learn to endure and it's not right. I know that he resents me for getting in the way of him having a relationship because that's the only message I have gotten since childhood, with every woman he's brought into my home. But in the end his relationships always fall apart because the woman ends up realizing, and stating to him, that he is "emotionally absent". And every time, I comfort my dad through the break up. When he has tried to blame his ex I said once to him that therapy can really help him with his emotional issues and relationships. But he refuses, so. That's on him. But I refuse to believe that I am in the wrong here for saying enough is enough. But he's going to keep trying to make me believe that the problem is just me and my feelings, not his behavior. Nope. Boundary is up. I just have to keep to myself and do what I need to do to stay safe until I can move out. Because I guarantee you he's going to realize he doesn't get enough validation from his gf and then come running back to me as always and then be angry that I'm still holding my boundary strong. I know that this will hurt less as I get distance from it, but I don't like the idea of my pain being my fault when I grew up with this toxic stuff. I'm working so hard to make it hurt less but I can't heal if it keeps happening, so all I can do is back away from what is hurting me instead of being surprised when I'm hurt again. THAT is on me 100%. Hopefully he doesn't grab my desk and slam it against the wall again like in 2014 when I first tried to set this boundary. And of course when he

"apologized" he accused me of "punishing him" by not spending time with him. Jee-zus, dude. Get therapy. I can't be the only one in this family bearing this weight and working on my shit.

[h2bakugou]

okay yes hi, 1st of all, you’re my fav! 2nd, I have an awesome request so here goes! So in the dorms Koda had a bunny in his room right? So like what if the reader had a cat in their dorm, and it escapes! then Kirishima (the reader’s crush) finds it, and brings it back to their room (bc he wants to hold it) and then he offers to help take care of it w/ them and in the process he develops feelings, and maybe at the end they adopt a kitten together so the other has a fwiend🥺👉🏻👈🏻

a/n: hi!! tysm hun <3! gahh this is so cuteee i haven't written a lot for kiri so i apologize if he seems ooc

summary: a flash of orange and white fur stops kirishima in the common room. he notices your cat has escaped and decides to return it to you.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk / Milo - your cat’s name (or pick a name! you decide!!)

warnings: swearing, fluff

wordcount: 1.2k

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It was nearing curfew for most students, though that never stopped some people from staying up. Kirishima was fixing to head to bed but he stopped when he saw a flash of orange and white dart across the common room.

At first, he just thought he was seeing something until he heard a faint ‘meow’ come from under one of the sofas.

“Could it be a stray?” Kirishima questioned, carefully approaching. He bent down and peeked under the couch, the realization hitting him.

“Milo! What are you doing out here bud?” Kirishima spoke to the cat, familiar with his crush’s pet.

Milo squeezed out from under the couch and jumped into Kirishima’s arms, purring as he laid against Kiri’s chest.

“Let’s get you back to (Y/n).” Kirishima patted Milo on his head, a smile on his lips as he watched the cat seemingly smile back at him.

It didn’t take long for Kirishima to return to your dorm room, Milo curled up and now fast asleep in his arms.

Careful not to wake the sleeping kitty, Kirishima knocked on your dorm door.

You rose from your position of looking under your bed for your furry friend, hoping that he was done throwing his tantrum and would come out from wherever he was hiding.

You pulled back the door and immediately felt your heart skip a beat. Not only was Milo found, but Kirishima was holding him, and Milo was sound asleep in his arms. How cute. 

“I think he might’ve got loose, I found him in the commons.” Kirishima chuckled quietly. Your cheeks turned red, whether from embarrassment of fluster, you were unsure.

“Thank you. I had to throw away his favorite toy because it got broken, and he wasn’t exactly happy about it.” You say softly, admiring the sleeping kitty in Kirishima’s arms.

“You can bring him inside, set him down wherever, he’ll sleep on almost anything.” You giggle, taking a seat on your bed, you let out a sigh and finally let yourself relax.

“I take it you were looking for him.” Kirishima points out how your room is a little disheveled.

“He’s a good cat, he just doesn’t always want to stay in my room. I love him a lot, but I can’t just have him running around the commons, especially if someone has an allergy-”

“I could help you take care of him!” Kirishima chimes in. You lift your head and smile.

“You would do that for me?” You question softly. Kirishima cheeks begin to match the shade of crimson he used to dye his hair.

“Y-Yeah! That’s like totally manly! Cats are awesome!” Kirishima shoots you his usual toothy grin and joins you on your bed. He looks around your room and an idea pops into his head.

“We could get him a cat tree! Something he could climb and exercise in so maybe he wouldn’t need to leave the room!” Kirishima suggested, pointing to a bland corner in your room. 

“That’s an amazing idea! Thank you so much!” You hug Kirishima, wrapping your arms around him tightly as he does the same.

You can feel your face heating up again, your heart beat quickening. You pull away, but you hesitate. You stare into Kirishima’s eyes, just a little longer before you fully pull away.

You’d admired Kirishima the day he walked into class. He was strong, but humble in a way. He was funny, and smart, and he knew how to be there for his friends. He was also insanely cute.

Kirishima was thinking just like you. His mind was racing with the things he liked about you. Your smile, to the way your hair framed your face. Everything about you was beautiful to Kirishima.

“Well it’s getting late, I don’t want you to not get enough sleep-”

“Y-Yeah. I’ll come up with something for the cat tree! Get some good sleep!” Kirishima stands and waves, before striding over to your door and leaving.

“Goodnight.” You whisper back, feeling a little sad that he couldn’t stay longer.

You glance over at Milo who is now awake and staring at you with an evil glint in his eyes.

“I can see you judging me.”

Milo didn’t reply. You hadn’t expected him too. He just kept on staring.

“Are you the master of talking to boys? Cute boys? I didn’t think so mister.” You stick your tongue out at Milo and snuggle up under your covers.

Milo stretches and finds his way over to your bed, resting on your stomach as you slept.

- - -

Over the next few days, Kirishima had helped you find a good cat tree, and with what you had been saving up money-wise, you were able to buy a nice cat tree.

Assembling it was quite fun. And that was an adventure in it of itself.

“Kiri! I don’t think it goes there.” You laugh, holding a spare part of the tree in your hand as Kirishima tightens a bolt on the cat tree.

“What? It looks right.” Kirishima takes a step backs and stares at the creation. It definitely didn’t look like the box.

“Okay maybe it doesn’t go there.” Kirishima chuckles and takes the piece off.

After finally assembling the cat tree, you and Kirishima were worn out. But Milo was having the time of his life. You rested your head on Kirishima’s chest, a happy sigh leaving past your lips.

“I think he likes it.” You whisper to Kirishima.

If Milo could talk, he would’ve said the same about Kirishima, whose cheeks were a bright shade of pink, a goofy smile on his lips as his fingers played with the ends of your hair.

“Yeah.” Kirishima spoke. You turned your head to look up at him and bit your bottom lip.

You were so close to him, you were laying on him. His lips looked so kissable. The amount of times you’d almost kissed each other was far too many and it was now or-

Kirishima pressed his lips to yours, no longer wanting to waste any time thinking about kissing you. He wanted to kiss you. For real.

It brought you out of your thoughts and you melted into the kiss. It was sweet, and genuine. It was a soft kiss from someone you’d fallen in love with. And Kirishima could say the same.

He pulled away and his bright smile returned.

“Sorry I-”

“Please don’t apologize. It was nice.” You reassure him. You place a quick peck on his lips just to solidify your statement.

- - -

A week after your kiss, you’d shared exactly six more kisses after that. And you were pretty sure Kirishima was going to ask you out soon, or you hoped he would.

It was almost seven at night, and there was a knocking at your door.

“Coming!” You yelled, coming to the door. You opened it and saw Kirishima, his back turned to you.

“Hey is everything okay?” You asked, your hand going to touch his shoulder.

"Surprise!” Kirishima smiled and turned around, a kitten in his hands. You smiled and admired the little ball of fluff in his hands. Kirishima handed the kitten over to you gently.

“Now Milo has a friend!” Kirishima and you walked back into your room and took a seat on the floor.

“Oh and, I got you this.”

Kirishima pulled you into a kiss, a hand resting under your chin. You blushed and kissed him back, not expecting him to be so forward.

“Will you go out with me?”

“Yes!”

Not only was Milo happy to have a new friends, but you and Kirishima were both happy that you had each other now.

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masterlist

[luvargas]

     i think i just saw LUCILA “ LU ” VARGAS ride by on a golf cart . at least i think it was her . after all , CREDIT IN THE STRAIGHT WORLD BY HOLE was blasting on the transistor radio . maybe she was on her way to work , i hear she’s a PERSONAL TRAINER . but she totally could have been on her way to SNEAK IN A SMOKE AT THE GARDEN . guess we’ll never know . you’ll definitely know its her when you see LOOSE AND TANGLED HAND WRAPS , BUTTON BADGES ON VEGAN LEATHER ,  AND HEAR THE SHRILL SOUND OF BICKERING around the country club . let’s just hope she stays off the green after hours or else the sprinklers will get her !

( new muse, messy thoughts, u get the gist. pls know the views of this chara do not reflect my own. the name’s katya, 21, she/her pronouns & im ready 2 party. feel free to hmu wnvr or drop a like to plot n ill com 2 u ! x — oh n pls be a pal n read this quick disclaimer. tysm ! )

BASICS

24 years old

15 april 1997

5′1″ or 1.55m tall

bisexual cis woman, she/her

aries sun, aqua moon, and aqua rising

love languages : quality time & acts of service

BIO POINTS

kid o’ divorce, lived w her ma in chicago til she was 6 then w her dad in highlands til 14 then back to her ma ! 

def a daddys gorl. so used to her white pop’s leniency that livin w her strict latina ma durin her teen yrs was So Not Her Vibe ergo * cue her rebel grrrl phase *

did not finish hs ! left senior yr 2 to go w her “ radically progressive ” college bf to [ insert dev country. ] they broke up after a few mos but she kept at that life for a couple more yrs

seen some places. lived in new countries. done some shit. some good, some sus, but all generally well-intentioned. tis a whole thing but u get the gist, nywy !

lu’s back in da usa by 21. rel w the ma is strained but the pa is chill w stuff, they kept in touch. he said shell get her college fund if she gets her ged so she does !

her dad is v active n stuff so shes just always been v sporty w him. lu turnin 23 w zilch plans worried him so he implored her to get certified as a personal trainer ! n when she did, he called in a few favors w a pal he knows et voilà ! ur hired.

LU AT WORK

shes been workin at the country club fr a little over a yr now. most her clients are influencer-type gals n they luv her bc shes can take rlly cute pics n stuff for content. lu sorta likes some of em n she fakes the rest for the bread. u can bet she clowns all em richies behind their back   

unless she got clients, catch her runnin’ about the club n minglin’ w the other workers. does it annoy mngmt ? yes. n she luvs that. but bc her soon-2-b-karen clients luv her n wont stand for her bein booted, she can milk that impunity

actually knows her shit n lowkey rlly enjoys the work. she picked back up the boxing n tae kwon do she did when she was younger plus she was always in the track team at school. v healthy lifestyle save for her smokin vice n the party moments

PERSONALITY 

passionate ! has lotsa opinions. helluva a drama queen, bit of a loud mouth, argumentative n stubborn but her heart’s in the right place, albeit a lil misguided. comes w the whole activist bit, bitin her tongue just aint it. highkey makes everythin political n smtms gotta realize .,.,. it just aint that deep chief. some say shes needlessly defiant, but maybe thats a in the beholder typa thing ? fingers crossed 4 lu’s sake

fun, fun, fun ! can be real naggy but shes no buzzkill. wannabe anarchist-slash-mutineer who wants 2 stick it 2 the man ! get rowdy go crazy

fight, fight, fight ! goin back to the first bit, she talks big. esp w like ,, men n the whites lol. she can actually walk her threats tho she isnt actually violent. w arguments, she likes to start em but finishin is ... ruff.  also any dare, she wont back down in either doin it or arguin why doin it wld be smth-ist. shes not the sharpest tool ok rip lu

loyal legend ! fr her friends n buds, shell turn a blind eye. pals r the only exception ! truly ride or die n will do errthng 4 em. v much a believer in the power of community n ppl needin ppl or wtvr, yk, all that stuff. shes mouthy but like, she helps ppl 

here’s a brief blurb n a more coherent look into lu as a character

TIDBITS

lu can understand spanish but hers is a bit broken, tis her secret shame shhh

she doesn’t believe in the institution. any institution. u name it, shes got beef

pls dont fact check her she cant hear u

probs lowkey thinks shes better than u bc shes vegan

prefers 2 be called “ lu ” n ny1 who insists on lucila is dead 2 her 

comments abt her not lookin like a pt w her height n frame will result in an earful n a dramatic outburst. it aint worth it chief

watches lotsa sports w her pops. mostly indiv ones. mma, boxing, tennis, track, etc

dont ask me abt her principles n politics, i cant explain em either. v inconsistent n just messy at this point tbh but here’s a lil attempt ig

she drives a 2018 prius n lives in a p nice 1br apt outside the club

her mom’s middle class n her dad is almost upper-middle class. he isnt a member of the club but, like ,,, he cld be if he wanted to lol. he spoils her sm while she hasnt rlly Spoken to her mom besides civility, rip they both stubborn, tis a vargas thing

she is v much in a comfy position money-wise n dsnt hav much Need to hustle but sis does hav a couple of organizations she regularly sends some dough to so thats nice ig

she went fr grassroots activist to a veteran twitter/tumblr/reddit/wtvr ranter n a change.org gofundme petition regular. is it burnout ? is she ok ? honestly who knows

WANTED CONNECTIONS / TAKEN CONNECTIONS

found family ! pals n squad wanted. y’all gotta hav patience or ear plugs to power thru her self-indulgent mini-rants but shell luv ya back tenfold !

carpool buds ? cld be a pal ! or maybe yall had a lil argument or small beef but lu still drives ym bc her pride ? said mother earth first even tho the tension n silly drama is funny 

homies to smoochies ! just sum nsa makin out. cld be pals, cld be flirty, idk, but if u wanna kiss her shes probs ok w that

smoke bud ! just sum1 thats her go-to 2 smoke w on her breaks. knows not to call her out on how its not healthy fr a trainer yada yada she knows ok. let her live

an ex ? idk yet shes not rlly datey but thats out there

crushes ! this bitch hot but does she know how to flirt ? not rlly. watch her fumble

debate club ! aka sum1 she bickers w relentlessly. its valid, sum1 fite her. r u a worker or a club member ? either works. its a whole club bc she can have tons, lu can be hella annoying n testy

clients ! self-explanatory. do they get along tho ? lets find out ! 

( im officially braindead now but if y’all got more ideas or think theres smth lu wld fit just lmk !!! down 4 wtvr, wld luv 2 hash it out w yall <3 ) 

[ladyanput]

ClassSalt where Jagged does another interview in the bakery and with permission he gets to film in Mari's room. The class are watching it live, still think they're kinda friends with Mari. Surprise surprise there's no pics of them hanging only of Mari's designs, Luka, Kagami, and Felix and when asked by Jagged Mari just smirks in a way they know they fucked up and she says "the class I was in at Dupont aren't friends." and bam they're outed in public bc she's out as MDC so everyone knows it them

The class was buzzing with excitement, all gathered at Alya's place as they watched the TV. The newest designer, MDC, had become the biggest hit in Paris amongst teens and adults alike. Whoever they were, MDC just seemed to know exactly what people were looking for.

Many of the students in Miss Bustier's class wore the anonymous designer's designs, more so lately as Lila had revealed to them that she was actually best friends with the designer! She had been the source of inspiration for the Miraculous themed hoodies that were recently released.

"I can't believe we're finally gonna see who MDC is! I bet he's really handsome!" Sabrina giggled, squirming eagerly in her seat.

"Do you think he'd design us some dresses for graduation?" Rose piped up, a hopeful sparkle in her eyes. Graduation from lycée was just around the corner, many looking forward to finally be free from school forever.

"I'm sure he will, Lila will put in a good word for us." Alya grinned, her phone out, all ready to write updates on her blog about this suspenseful reveal.

The class watched in bated breath as the show's intro song played, then a pretty reporter appeared on screen. Estelle Desrosiers smiled brightly at the camera, sitting in a chair, in a very familiar room.

A familiar pink room."

"Hello Paris! This is Estelle Desrosiers, here in the room of the famous MDC and her head model!" Estelle spoked brightly, her green eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. The camera panned over to a couple sitting on a couch, and the class flinched when they heard Alya drop her phone.

"Marinette...?" She whispered out, the blood slowly draining from her face.

"That's right, Paris, the beautiful Marinette Dupain-Cheng is the one who has taken the world by storm! At the age of eighteen, she is the youngest designer to have grown to such heights!" At Estelle's words, Marinette blushed, but kept her bright smile, her hand gripping Adrien's as the camera focused on them.

"Now, Marinette, how did you manage to find the time to start this brand of yours? You're still in high school, after all." Estelle was practically bouncing in her seat as she spoke.

"Let me tell you, Estelle, it wasn't easy." A soft chuckle left Marinette as she sat up a bit more in her seat. "You see, my time was always taken up by being class president, planning parties for friends, or making those friends special outfits for dances. If my life was still like that, I still probably wouldn't have this brand going."

"What do you mean?" Estelle tilted her head slightly, looking cartoonishly confused, playing it up for the camera.

"Most of my friends tossed me aside when something new and shiny came along." Marinette's smile strained slightly, but a supportive side hug from Adrien emboldened her. "And with them ignoring me, I found myself with more free time. And Adrien here let me stay at his apartment to get the big projects done, the ones I didn't want any unsavory people to steal."

"Apartment?" Nino whispered in surprise, his brows rising in shock. "Since when does the dude have an apartment?"

"He got one a year ago." Juleka chimed in, drawing the class's gaze to her. She flinched and quickly lowered her gaze. "From what Luka told me, Adrien made money from modeling for Marinette, so he put it in a bank account his father couldn't access."

"It probably also helped that my lovely princess did commissions for a lot of family celebrities." Adrien spoke up, planting a soft kiss on Marinette's cheek. Then his sharp gaze met the camera's and his grin grew sly. "Such as Jagged Stone, Clara Nightengale, Prince Ali... She knows them all personally. Hell, she has Jagged Stone on speed dial."

As Estelle and the couple kept talking, the camera panned around Marinette's room, showing off the designer's very pink work space, with her mannequins, her sewing machine, her walls plastered with designs and sketches of possible projects.

"Wasn't... Wasn't there more on Marinette's walls?" Kim swallowed thickly as a lump formed in his throat.

Alya could only stare, realizing Kim was right. All of the pictures of Adrien was gone, so was the massive schedule, the wall of pictures of Marinette and her class. They were all gone, no trace of them seen anywhere. Not even a framed photo on her computer desk. M

It was then Alya realized she hadn't bee in that bedroom in years, not since Lila became her best friend.

The class listened in stunned silence as Marinette and Adrien went on about how they pulled this off, with the help of a few friends, how Adrien managed to get free from his abusive father (that no doubt going to greatly damage the Agreste fashion brand), and how they ended up dating.

"To be honest with you." Adrien got a bit of a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "I probably wouldn't be dating Marinette right now if I didn't grow a spine. Because of a new girl in our class, everyone kinda ganged up on her, and I watched from the sidelines like a coward. But I had a long talk with a close friend and he made me see the error of my ways."

"This class of yours, did they see the error of their ways as well?" Estelle frowned, raising a delicate brow.

Marinette smiled at the camera, a smile that the entire class felt was the swinging of the axe.

"Not in the least. But oh well, thanks to them, I got to where I am today. And I'm much more careful with who I trust."

[medicifm]

*  not  me  actually  writing  an  intro  the  night  before  like  i  always  mean  to  😳  hennyway  hey  biddies  ,  i'm  chloe  ,  im  in  the  snowy  part  of  pst  ,  &  i  use  she / her  pns  .  i’ve  been  . . . . . . .  scouring  the  tags  for  an  rp  like  this  so  im  so  excited  to  bring  this  newish  muse  of  mine  here  !   im  here to  do  the  honours  of  introducing  my  himbo - on - the outside , manipulative - shit - on - the - inside  . . .  oscar  🤡

(  twenty  three , cis  man , he / him  ) ✉ ― hey  babes , have  you  met  OSCAR  MEDICI ?  they’re  working  here  as  THE  HEAD  CHEF  AT  LORENZO’S ,  a  few  villas  down  from  where  you’re  staying  .  you  might  hear  them  singing  ALRIGHTY  APHRODITE  BY  PEACH  PIT  playing  from  their  villa  ,  it’s  their  favourite  song  .  yes  ,  they  hear  that  they  look  like  JACK  GILINSKY  a  lot  ,  actually  -  it’s  really  uncanny  .  their  friends  back  home  in  SYDNEY , AUSTRALIA  say  that  if  they  were  on  a  tv  show  ,  their  trope  would  be  THE  WOLF  IN  SHEEP’S  CLOTHING  ,  how  funny  is  that  ? ✎ chloe , 22 , she/her , pst

𝐢  .

pinterest  |  wanted  plots  |  

𝐢𝐢  .

name  :  oscar  gabriel  medici

age  :  twenty  three

dob  /  sign  :  december  4th  ,  1997  /  sagittarius  sun  ,  leo  moon  ,  libra  rising 

pob  :  sydney , australia

gender / pronouns  :  cis  man  &  he / him / his

career :  head  chef  at  lorenzo’s  ,  full - time  heathen  ,  professional  disappointment  for  mothers  everywhere  .

drinking / drugs / smoking :  yes / more  often  than  he’d  admit / never .  

religion  :  jewish  background  ,  currently  non - practicing .

physical  :  jack  gilinsky  fc ,  dark  brown / black  longish  curls  (  reference  )  ,  dark  brown  eyes  ,  canon  jack  g’s  tattoos  ,  no  piercings  ,  6′2″  ,  175  lbs  ,  lean  but  strong  .  tattoos  a  la  canon!jack  ,  pearly  white  smile  that  he  may  . . .  or  may  not  . . .   use  crest  3D  white  strips  weekly  to  maintain  .  lots  of  burns  &  scars  from  kitchen  mishaps  on  his  hands  &  arms  .

traits  :  hard - working  ,  flighty  ,  intelligent  ,  hedonistic  ,  charismatic  ,  intense  ,  volatile  ,  

other  :  speaks  weird  french  (  aussie  accent  tings  )  ,  tans  easily  but  wears  sunscreen  nonetheless  ,  works  hard  parties  harder  ,  can’t  read  a  lick  of  french  but  spends  a  lot  of  his  free  time  with  a  coffee  &  a  new  paperback  ,  has  a  bit  of  an  internal  vendetta  against  rich  people  (  for  no  real  reason  ,  he  just  doesn’t  like  most  of  them  )  ,  has  ins  with  a  bunch  the  local  farmers  &  visits  them  weekly  ,  pretends  he  isn’t  lowkey  addicted  to  nicotine  administered  via  a  puff  bar  ,  liquor  of  preference  is  tequila  or  red  wine  ,  drives  a  lil  vespa  around  town  for  the  gag  of  it  (  loves  seeing  it  haphazardly  parked  amongst  a  bunch  of  luxury  cars  )  ,  

character  inspo  :  jess  mariano  (  gilmore  girls  )  , gordon  ramsey  🤡 ,  patrick verona ( 10 things i hate about you ) , ferris bueller ( ferris bueller’s day off ) , han solo ( star wars ) .

𝐢𝐢𝐢  .

oscar’s  arrival  was  as  unwanted  to  his  parents  as  could  be  :  a  father  whose  tendencies  leaned  towards  alcoholism  &  abusing  whoever  was  in  arms  reach  ,  a  mother  whose  life  was  more  or  less  spent  at  the  nursing  home  she  worked  as  a  nurse  at  ,  evading  home  .  he  became  a  self - inflicted  loner  ,  preferring  to  do  literally  the  exact  opposite  of  what  was  expected  or  wanted  from  him  .  he  had  a  few  friends  he  ran  with  ,  but  watching  them  all  go  off  &  study  or  prepare  for  university  solidified  in  oscar’s  mind  that  the  non - traditional  route  was  for  him  .  growing  up  by  the  water  ,  oscar  always  felt  more  drawn  to  skip  school  &  head  to  the  beach  than  he  did  obeying  his  parents  wishes  .   

one  of  his  solaces  was  his  grandfather  ,  gabriel  ,  who  owned  an  italian  restaurant  in  a  beach  town  north  of  sydney  .  whenever  the  weather  was bad  &  oscar  felt  like  ditching  class  ,  he’d  head  over  to  his  nono’s  restaurant  where  his  ass  would  be  put  to  work  as  soon  as  he  set  eyes  on  the  restaurant  .  it  was  tough  work  ,  but  challenging  in  a  way  that  fanned  the  flames  in  oscar’s  heart  ,  rather  than  dimming  them  .  by  the  time  he was  a  teenager  he  was  working  in  the  restaurant  everyday  after  school  , an  agreement  between  him  &  his  grandfather  framed  on  the  back  wall  that  stated  that  as  long  as  oscar  kept  from  flunking  out  ,  he  was  allowed  to  spend  as  little  or  as  much  time  in  the  kitchen  as  he  pleased .  

his  absolute  defiance  of  anything  traditional  &  following  the  rules  made  him  unpopular  with  adults  ,  but  lowkey  cool  with  the  girls  .  by  the  time  he  was  sixteen  ,  he  was  losing  his  focus  on  the  restaurant  &  his  grades  &  spending  more  &  more  time  chasing  after  girls  .  his  nono  tried  to  get oscar  to  come  back  &  focus  ,  but  as  always  ,  anything  he’s  asked  to  do  quickly  becomes  the  thing  he’s  running  from  the  most  .

tw  :  death  ,  cancer  .  around  his  eighteenth  birthday  ,  his  grandfather  suddenly  fell  ill  with  a  rare  form  of  cancer  that  took  his  life  six  weeks  after  diagnosis  ,  which  rocked  oscar’s  world  .  he  felt  overwhelming  guilt  that  he  hadn’t  spent  more  time  with  his  grandfather  ,  which  manifested  itself  as  oscar  dropping  out  of  school  a  year  shy  of  graduation  to  commit  himself  fully  to  perfecting  his  grandfather’s  techniques  ,  learning  all  of  his  recipes  (  read  :  pouring  over  dozens  of  handwritten  cookbooks )  in  some  failed  attempt  to  get  back  some  time  with  him  .  oscar  hadn’t  been  close  with  his  parents  in  years  ,  more  or  less  seeing  them  as  wardens  of  a  prison  he  wanted  nothing  to  do  with  .  his  grandfather’s  will  left  him  the  deed  to  the  restaurant  ,  with  an  ask  that  oscar  would  promise  to  act  on  whatever  he  felt  called  towards  ,  rather  than  doing  what  others  expected  of  him  .  to  be  candid  ,  this  whole  situation  crushed  him  .

eventually  ,  he  decided  he’d  had  enough  of  the  stifling  community  he’d  grown  up  in  .  he  sold  the  restaurant  to  one  of  the  regulars  ,  a  wealthy  man  who  he’d  come  to  acknowledge  as  somewhat  of  an  uncle  ;  a  safe  pair  of  hands  who  would  treat  his grandfather’s  legacy  with  as  much  passion  &  respect  as  oscar  himself  would  .  so  he  packed  a  bag  ,  texted  his  mom  that  he  was  going  traveling  ,  &  got  on  a  flight  that  evening  .  he  traveled  all  around  -  first  through  central  america  ,  then  through  europe  ,  throughout  asia  &  africa  ,  &  spent  a  few  months  driving  a  van  across  the  continental  united  states  &  canada  for  fun  . 

eventually  ,  he  started  getting  low - ish  on  money  ,  &  decided  to  settle  in  one  of  his  favourite  places  he’d  visited  :  southern  france  .  he  arrived  in  early  2018  ,  taking  on  whatever  menial  tasks  he  could  while  learning  french  until  he  got  a  position  as  a  line  cook  in  an  italian  restaurant  .  a  few  years  later  ,  he’s  made  his  way  up  to  filling  the  head  chef  position  ,  an  honour  he  takes  with  pride  .  he’s  implemented  many  of  his  own  recipes  while  using  flavours  he’s  learned  from  his  travels  ,  with  ingredients  straight  from  local  farmers  .  he’s  earned  the  restaurant  a  two michelin  star  rating  ,  &  is  constantly  striving  for  more  to  get  that  last  star  (  both  for  his  own  ego  as  well  as  a  secret  debt  to  his  grandfather  )  .

𝐢𝐯  .

ok  but  that  vid  where  gordon  puts  two  pieces  of  bread  on  someone’s  head  &  calls  them  an  idiot  sandwich  ?  that’s  oscar  .  intense  as  fuck  in  the  kitchen  ,  &  best  nobody  catch  an  attitude  about  it  bc  he  will  not  hesitate  to  hand  them  their  ass  on  a  silver  platter  .

another  gordon  reference  :  you  know  how  he’s  the  spawn  of  satan with  adults  ,  but  the  sweetest  ,  most  helpul  guy  with  children  ?  that’s  oscar  with  his  staff  vs  people  he  wants  something  from  .  whether  its  to  sleep  with  them  (  usually  his  first  instinct  to  be  fair  )  ,  their ��money  or  clout  ,  or  to  get  into  some  wild  adventure  some  random  resort  staff  wouldn’t  dream  of  getting  into  ,  he  can  turn  on  the  charm  whenever  needed  .

can  go  from  absolutely  demoralizing  someone  in  the  kitchen  to  stepping  out  into  the  lounge  to  schmooze  with  his  friends  or  cougars  who  leave  phat  tips  in  0.2  seconds  .  the  speed  at  which  his  mood  can  completely  180  is  one  of  the  seven  world  wonders  (  last  i  checked  )  .

his  love  language  is  absolutely  acts  of  service  .  catch  him  actually  falling  in  love  once  in  a  blue  moon  &  making  it  his  mission  to  cook  her  extravagant  meals  everyday  .  

the  wolf  in  sheep’s  clothing  label  epitomizes  his  nice  ,  helpful  ,  charismatic  exterior  ,  while  ulterior  motives  &  disdain  for  those  who  grew  up  with  more  money  than  he  did  lurk  beneath  the  surface  . 

he  can  be  MEAN  when  someone  fucks  him  over  or  pushes  him  farther  than  he  wants  -  isn’t  afraid  to  go  for  the  low  blows  or  send  someone  home  with  an  identity  crisis  if  it  protects  himself  .

lowkey  alcoholic  but  he’s  not  ready  for  that  conversation  yet  .  he  sees  it  more  as  perks  of  the  location  &  atmosphere  he’s  found  himself  in  .

also  lowkey  falls  in  love  HARD  ,  like  this  man  is  a  closeted  romantic  but  self - sabotages  all  potential  relationships  before  they  can  get  to  that  point  out  of  fear  he’ll  be  unable  to  live  life  of  his  own  volition  (  takes  a  flaky  philophobic  sagittarius  to  know  a  flaky  philophobic  sagittarius  🤡  )  .  has  probably  only  had  a  few  real  relationships  besides  flings  bc  he’s  afraid  .

𝐯  .

check  out  my  wanted  plots  tag  listed  here  ,  as  well  as  my  pinterest  wanted  plots  board  here  .  here   are  some  other  suggestions  hehe  :

best  friend  /  ride  or  die  :  someone  who  knows  about  his  past  ,  keeps  him  grounded  when  he’s  lk  spiraling  &  wants  to  drop  everything  &  flee  to  some  far  flung  corner  of  the  earth  .

actual  relationship  :  it  was  fast - burn  with  deep  feelings  (  not  them  thinking  they’re  soulmates  after  dating  for  a  month  . . .  pete  &  ariana  type  beat  )  but  completely  unrealistic  .  they  have  their  own  life  ,  he’s  pretty  much  tied  to  the  restaurant  ,  not  to  mention  his  lack  of  sharing  anything  about  his  childhood / life  back  home  .  they  loved  &  cared  for  each  other  ,  but  crashed  &  burned  fairly  quickly  because  of  how  idealistic  it  was  .  they  can  either  be  on  bad  or  good  terms  now  .

hateship  with  sexual  tension  😈

summer  flings  !!

fake  boyfriend  :  he  shows  up  on  her  arm  to  her  family’s  events  where  she’s  expected  to  have  a  partner  .  it’s  not  a  real  relationship  ,  but  her  parents  don’t  need  to  know  that  .  he  plays  the  part  &  satisfies  her  parents  beyond  the  bare  minimum  ,  &  in  return  she  invites  him  to  parties  ,  takes  him  out  on  her  family’s  yacht  ,  etc  etc  .  we  luv  some  symbiosis  

i  can  always  use  more  fwbs  hehehe

squad  :  a  group  of  people  who  do  everything  together  ,  have  a  chaotic  group  chat  ,  have  nicknames  for  one  another  ,  are  utd  on  each  other’s  sex  lives  ,  party  all  night  then  show  up  to  brunch  hungover  together  .  

cat  &  mouse  :  someone  he’s  pursuing  who  isn’t  quite  giving  in  ,  &  vice  versa  .  maybe  it’s  been  going  on  a  few  years  ,  everytime  they’re  in  st  tropez  they  have  this  weird  lil  flirtationship  thing  goin  on  until  she  leaves  ,  they  forget  about  one  another  ,  then  pick  it  right  back  up  when  she  returns  .

confidant  :  preferably  someone  from  a  working  class  background  who  understands  his  plight  of  being  a  worker  amongst  people  who  expect  to  be  waited  on  .

enemies  :  they  don’t  like  his  attitude  ,  &  he  doesn’t  like  them  in  return  .  lots  of  eye  rolls  ,  shit  talking  ,  &  tension  between  their  mutual  friends  .

we’re  sleeping  together  but  we  shouldn’t  be  but  that’s  half  the  fun :  for  whatever  reason  they  became  friends  ,  starting  hooking  up  despite  it  not  being  a  good  idea  (  read  :  he’s  exes  with  one  of  her  friends  ,  her  parents  want  her  focused  on  career  ,  they’re  part  of  the  same  friend  group  ,  etc )  . . . but  now  they  can’t  stop  .  lots  of  stolen  glances  across  rooms  ,  squeezing  past  one  another  in  a  crowded  club  just  close  enough  for  a  quick  touch  to  the  back  ,  quietly  leaving  one  another’s  places  the  morning  after  &  playing  dumb  to  anyone  who  asks  . 

[theatricalities]

⧼   A mask of perfect innocence hiding the machiavellian intentions forever lurking beneath the surface — the ace up your sleeve, the trick coin with one side weighing heavier than its opposite because chance is simply a game that’s far too risky for the likes of you; the claw marks left on absolutely anything and everything in your wake — it’s not desperation that makes you cling so fervently to the objects of your desire as much as it’s your own way of ensuring survival; the self-imposed solitude clouding your ocean eyes  — questions of identity and belonging are forever at the heels of your every decision, begging you to turn back before it’s too late.   ⧽ 

  ━━   hey, isn’t that ZEPHYRINE TRAVERS ? i read a daily prophet article on them, once ; the 24 year old part-Veela WITCH is a SLYTHERIN alumnus who has gone on to be an ACTRESS IN THE WIXEN WORLD. i’ve heard they can be quite AUDACIOUS & BEGUILING, but i don’t know…they came off very EXPLOITATIVE and DELUSIVE in that interview. it really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isn’t it?

(  takes a hiatus...comes back with a new character  )

Heya ghouls, gals, and nonbinary pals! It’s me, ya girl. Zephyrine is my second little child to enter the group and I’m real wild about her! She’s inspired by DE idea #17 which you can find listed here!  Obviously, Zeph is an OC, but her tie to canon is that she’s the daughter of Travers, the Death Eater who killed Marlene McKinnon and family. Also, because I just don’t know how to write contented characters, Zeph’s a bit of a wreck, too — has some daddy issues, wants more than the world can offer, doesn’t have a true sense of self...but she’s got great fashion !

Below is Zephyrine’s bio and general information. Wanted connections can be found here ( very under construction rn ) and they’ll be updated as play progresses! Please feel free to pm me here or on discord ( debaucherie#6347 ) if you’d like to plot ✿

BEFORE THE WAR — “ Everyone wants something...”

[ trigger warnings for death, murder; ]

On the night that marked Zephyrine Travers’ birth, the world in return exalted her upon arrival, singing the praises of the newborn babe as boldly as a songbird in spring.

Or — that was the tale upon which her mother raised her, and it was one the girl found fitting enough to believe, even if all the world around spoke to the contrary. After all, her father (whose only claim to the term was in the scientific sense alone) created so empty a home that such fantastical ideas were perhaps the only source of hope that the young girl could find. At the age of two, Zephyrine and her family were quietly removed from their ancestral home as her father was sentenced to Azkaban for the murder of Marlene McKinnon. She and her mother were stripped of all riches, no matter the fact that the young girl continued the bloodline of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. 

And so, life continued on in this way, with little yarns of fantasy spun each and every night in the dreariness of their one-room hovel, spoken in assuring whispers as they cooked by candlelight or repaired a worn and weathered dress when there was no money to replace it instead. Despite the woe-be-gone skirts and helpless shoes, she was determined that no one should know about the unexpected poverty that marked her home life, and walked into the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with every intent on looking the part of the Travers name even if it was in name alone that she remained connected  —  going so far as to insist to the Sorting Hat that she was meant to be in Slytherin, as her family had been for centuries, even when it argued she was better suited to Ravenclaw instead. 

In many ways, her adolescence was a long, drawn-out course in the art of convincing others — she could manifest a stream of tears to reassure a fellow Slytherin that she truly felt for her father just as easily as she could feign prolonged wooziness to avoid Flying class for a week. She flashed her blessedly charming smile across the House tables in the Great Hall, befriended everyone and anyone while still keeping them at arm’s length, and convinced even the most doubtful that she was an invaluable creature — not because of her name or the weight it still carried in certain circles, but because she believed herself to be and would not rest until it was an undeniable, unequivocal truth.

At sixteen, however, the meager world she’d known her whole life shattered entirely, its fragments not pieced together with the loving touch of her mother, but instead the fearsome presence of her father, who broke out of Azkaban along with ten other Death Eaters, including Bellatrix Lestrange. Unsurprisingly, he was asked by Lord Voldemort to prove his loyalty, and continued his murderous warpath — but instead of getting caught this time, he ensured that another would take his place. Zephyrine’s mother, innocent as a dove, was framed for his crimes and swiftly locked up in Azkaban, and Zander Travers was restored all riches seized upon his arrest.

By seventeen, Zephyrine had all the hallmarks of the dreams her mother raised her on : wealth far beyond her dreams, a manor estate fit for royalty and all the accompanying fanfare upon being properly introduced into a society of Death Eaters, but lost her mother in the process to a nightmare come true — the very woman who had instilled in the girl so great a belief in the impossible, that even this seemed like something Zephyrine could undo. 

She now balanced quite a precarious act, appearing to her father as his perfect little Death Eater in training, while turning spy for the Order in exchange for their help in freeing her mother once the War was won. 

AFTER THE WAR. — “...and once you know what they want, you know how to move them.”

When the time came, however, her mother was one of the many forgotten in the shadow of the Order’s triumph, relegated to little more than a broken promise as she rotted in Azkaban along with her husband, once again sentenced for his crimes. Their daughter, however, now took up the mantle of the new head of the Travers family, left with the ruins of her father’s blood-soaked legacy. In a world rebuilding itself, there was no game to be played when each side no longer had a reason to fight — and so, she waited. Seethed, more accurately, and busied herself with cleaning up the Travers name as time passed by. After receiving a formal training with the Wixen Academy of Dramatic Arts, she cemented herself firmly as a darling in the wixen theatre scene. In truth, it was all too easy. For twenty years, she’d practiced different ways to be believed — not to lie, she’d argue to herself, for any of those perceived lapses in truth had simply been her playing a character in order to get what she needed, and the silver-tongued sweetheart she portrayed to the public was no different.  To believe was the notion her mother instilled in her, but to be believed was one she’d determined necessary for herself, even if it meant losing any sense of self in the process. And so, upon hearing word of a reformed Death Eater legion under Bellatrix Lestrange’s leadership, she appealed to their cause, vowing that she could easily become a spy within the group which once held her loyalty — in exchange, once more, for the release* of her mother. Her allegiances, of course, are unknown to the public at large. In fact, when asked by the press on such matters, she voices her support for the Ministry and their efforts at preventing another tragedy to ever mark the Wixen World’s history again. Naturally, it’s all an act, as it has always been, and she’ll keep playing the game for as long as it take to reunite* with her mother, gain the most powerful of allies, and secure her own survival. 

[ * — while i’d love to believe that zeph’s mom is still alive, i think mrs. travers is likely to have perished rather soon after being wrongfully imprisoned. however, i believe that this information was kept from zeph as a way of controlling her, first by her father, then perhaps by the order ( i’d have to actually plot this one out w/an order member for this to be true ), but certainly by bellatrix and the DE clan. ]

BASICS.

FULL NAME:  Zephyrine Travers NAME MEANING: Zephyrine is of French origin and means ‘west wind’ ; Travers is of English origin and means ‘to cross’  NICKNAME(S):  Zeph ( used by family and close friends, only ) GENDER IDENTITY: Demigirl DATE OF BIRTH: 29 October, 1995 ( i put the wrong age in my app bc maths are not my strong suit, so technically Zeph is 24 but will turn 25 soon ) BIRTHPLACE:  Travers Estate, Hampshire, England  CURRENT PLACE OF DWELLING:  London, England  SEXUAL ORIENTATION:  pansexual panromantic LANGUAGE(S): English, French, basic Latin

LIFE.

OCCUPATION: Actress  EDUCATION: Homeschooled from ages 4 to 11; attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry from ages 11 to 18; attended the Wixen Academy of Dramatic Arts from ages 19 to 21. SOCIOECONOMIC LEVEL ( GROWING UP ):  Born upper class, but lower middle class from ages 2 - 16, upper class ages 16 - onward. SOCIOECONOMIC LEVEL ( CURRENTLY ): Upper class. RELIGION: Atheist

MAGICAL.

BLOOD TYPE: Not quite pureblood — but, publicly pureblood  SPECIES: 1/4 Veela  WAND TYPE: Hawthorn, unicorn hair core, 13″, reasonably supple SKILL LEVEL: Reasonably proficient, but a distinct knack for transfiguration and healing magic. Is adept at DADA, but often flees from the scene of battle before needing to utilize curses, jinxes, etc. PATRONUS: Incapable of producing a corporeal Patronus, but if she could, it would take the form of a shrike. BOGGART: Herself — albeit, a different, unrecognizable version of herself. In all her lying and betraying and such, Zeph has lost sense of herself and just doesn’t know the depths she might go to in order to get what she wants — and so I think it’s very possible that her biggest fear is the worst possible version of herself, the one that resembles her father in his uncaring bloodlust, messy and indiscriminate and entirely lacking in the nuance she prides herself on. AMORTENTIA: Fresh popcorn, the collar of a well-worn leather jacket, the scent of a newspaper so fresh the ink smudges one’s fingertips MIRROR OF ERISED: TBD. HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin ( the Sorting Hat debated for approximately nine minutes between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but ultimately decided on Slytherin because Zephyrine asked it to. ) FAVORITE SUBJECT:  Transfiguration. LEAST FAVORITE SUBJECT:  Arithmancy. CLUBS / EXTRACURRICULARS: The Slug Club ( Year 7 ), Theatre Club ( Years 2 - 7 ), Keres Club ( ages 22 - present )

RELATIONS.

PARENT(S): Zander & Odette ( nee Lynd ) Travers SIBLING(S): Two older sisters, both deceased, from her father’s first marriage, and a younger sibling born one-two years after her from her father’s affair. SIGNIFICANT OTHER(S): tbd. EX SIGNIFICANT OTHER(S): tbd. CHILDREN:  none. PET(S):  Two cats, Beryl and Belinda. 

PHYSICAL.

HEIGHT: 5′7″ HAIR: silver-blonde EYES: blue BODY MODIFICATION(S): Three piercings in either ear. Despite Bellatrix’s insistence, she has staved off getting the Dark Mark under the guise that it would harm her status as an actress. In truth, she simply would hate to get something so permanent when her loyalties are rather, well, impermanent. NOTABLE SCARS / BIRTHMARKS:  No scars / noticeable birthmarks. A scattering of freckles. GLASSES / CONTACTS: Only when required for an acting role, but not usually needed. CLOTHING STYLE: Quite a soft, ‘feminine’ style — lace, ribbons, ruffles, pastels — but there’s always one or two little things hinting at something decidedly more aggressive ( platinum collar-tips pointed and sharpened, metallic makeup, earrings in the design of tiny daggers, black lace gloves hiding perfectly manicured claws ) ; zephyrine also wears her mother’s choker, which is platinum-plated and has a handshake as a clasp. DOMINANT HAND: Ambidextrous

PERSONALITY.

ZODIAC: Scorpio ( sun ) — observant, expressive, secretive, vengeful, enigmatic // Gemini ascendant, Capricorn moon PERSONALITY TYPE: ENTJ, The Commander — confident, charismatic, strategic, ruthless, stubborn, emotionally naive MORAL ALIGNMENT:  Neutral Evil TEMPERAMENT: Phlegmatic  ELEMENT:  Water VICE(S): Wrath VIRTUE(S):  Diligence CHARACTER PARALLELS: Dahlia Hawthorne ( Ace Attorney ), Amy March ( Little Women ), Margaery Tyrell ( ASOIAF ), Vesper Lynd ( James Bond ), Eva Perón ( history / ‘EVITA’ the musical & film )

[satonthelotuspier]

I'm seeing prompts on your site and does that mean you are accepting them right now? I've never requested a prompt before and I don't know what to do? But if I'm doing it right I'd really like to see 13 for XueXiao from the bodyguard au prompt list? Fluffy or angsty, as you please. Am I doing this right?

OK so Im being obvious, but this contains XueXiao.

Modern Bodyguard AU so none of the complications of canon apply.

Now the disclaimers are out of the way, I have to apologise to the very patient @amaskinamirror bc this took so much longer to write than I expected. The reason being most of my prompt fics end up around the 1k-1.4k word mark and this kept going and kept going because there was a story there. It came in around the 4.5k work mark. Think of it as added value, unless you hate it in which case it’s not ;)

Pompts from this post here

Part 2 now available here

Xue Yang is the enfant terrible of the music world and his manager has pretty much had enough of his shitty behaviour. Features a thorny Xue Yang shaped by the worlds opinions of him, and a hardass yet caring Xiao Xingchen who maybe might just start to see beyond the lies.

Possible triggers/warnings: Also features swearing, man-handling, use of a date rape drug, minor injury and blood. Luckily XXC is there to save the day in all situations.

Xue Yang was woken up from a deep, no doubt alcohol-induced, sleep to the feeling of cold water being splashed in his face.

He shot upright coughing and spluttering and wiping water out of his eyes, trying to process what the hell had happened. The unconscious bodies around him all started to stir and groan back to lucidity.

Xue Yang followed the long line of the leg in front of him up to eventually meet a pair of dark eyes staring down at him without expression.

“What the fuck?” he demanded and tried to get up but someone he didn’t even remember the name of was laid across his legs.

It had been another party. One where they’d drunk hard and passed out before dawn some time; he didn’t know half the people here. That had never stopped him. Being the enfant terrible of the music industry took both time, effort and commitment.

The tall man bent down to extricate him, then yanked him to his feet.

“You have rehearsals in ninety minutes. Get showered, you smell like a brewery” a garment bag was pushed into his hands then he was waved in the direction of the hotel suite’s bathroom.

“Excuse me, but just who the fuck are you?” honestly his head felt a little woolly still from the after-effect of the alcohol he’d been drinking, but he was sure he didn’t know who this man was or what he was doing in his hotel suite.

“Your Fairy Godmother, Cinderella, now go get a shower, you’re wasting time”

Xue Yang grabbed hold of the collar of his jacket, “Don’t bullshit me”

The hand that clamped around his wrist was steel-like, “Your new security. Your manager sends his regards. I won’t tell you to go and shower again”

“Firstly, if you are security you are not my boss, so you can stop with the ordering me around like I’m your little bitch, secondly, you are my security? I’m sure if a duckling gets too close you’ll do a great job, otherwise…” he was going to push the other away, sure because of his willowy frame it would be easy. Quite how he ended up in an armlock and being dragged to the bathroom he didn’t know. He bit his tongue to stifle the cry of pain; no way would he utter the noise aloud. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” he snarled as the other kept going into the bathroom.

“I’ve already explained. I’m not going to repeat myself” the man opened the shower door, pushed Xue Yang into the cubicle and pushed the on button.

Of course Xue Yang never learned his lesson; he launched himself at the other only to bounce off the cubicle door as the other shut it behind him, holding it closed.

“New world order, xiao-Xue, get used to being my little bitch” the other grinned as Xue Yang punched the glass then yelled at the pain in his hand, “Clean up, I don’t want to be forced to come in there and clean you up myself”

***

Xue Yang curled himself up as small as possible on the back seat of the car; he was in high sulk. After calling his manager to demand an explanation of what was going on Jin Guangyao had told him in no uncertain terms he’d better get used to the idea of Xiao Xingchen being around. His new security was not only there to provide for his personal safety after a spate of disturbing mail (more disturbing than the usual run of the mill threats at least), but to whip him into some kind of shape as Jin Guangyao was convinced his terrible behaviour, bad reputation and general personality was about to lose them some very large contracts.

Everyone loved a bad boy in theory, but when it began to affect his ability to make his management company money then they were definitely going to act to protect their asset.

And that had come in the form of Xiao Xingchen, who looked as gentle and fragile as an orchid but who had already handed Xue Yang his ass once today already.

“A-Qing, I need breakfast” Xue Yang whined at his assistant as his stomach rumbled for the fourth time.

“You shouldn’t have upset the new bodyguard then” she mocked him quietly, and he retreated even more, pulling the hood of his jacket up and wrapping his arms around his knees as A-Qing took pity on him and leaned forward to ask the driver to stop at a nearby coffee shop.

They did, and A-Qing and the driver returned with coffees for all and a bag full of muffins.

Lao-Xia, the driver, and A-Qing had been with Xue Yang long enough to not meet his gaze as they started on their own food; Xiao Xingchen had no such warning; he was too busy goggling at Xue Yang who had made his own muffin disappear like a magician with a rabbit.

“Are you going to eat that?” Xue Yang asked, pointing at the baked bun in Xiao Xingchen’s hand.

He simply offered it over; perhaps surprised at the demonstration of the speed at which a muffin could be demolished without trace.

The second one followed the first in quick order and Xue Yang froze as the other reached  over to brush the crumbs that had stuck to the corner of his mouth away with a thumb.

“You don’t want the Paparazzi to catch that” he said simply before turning in his seat to look out of the windscreen and sip at his coffee.

Xue Yang curled back in on himself and held his ridiculously sweet iced coffee to his chest.

“You eat too much sugar” Xiao Xingchen told him as Lao-Xia started the car and set off driving to the studio, “You need something to give you energy for the first meal of the day”

“Good luck with that, he functions on pure sugar and supplements” A-Qing mocked and Xue Yang shot her an annoyed look.

***

Xue Yang didn’t know why he was surprised the next morning when he was awoken by a solid shake to the shoulder.

He hadn’t been able to avoid the other to sneak off to party last night so he wasn’t hung over but that didn’t mean he was any more amenable to the idea of waking up.

“Come on Sleeping Beauty, you have to be at your first interview in an hour”

Interviews. His mortal enemy. The thing he hated most in the world. And he was still no better at dealing with them than he had been as a fresh face on the music scene, where the press had crucified him, thrown every painful fact of his past in his face and then painted him as a troubled bad boy with a temper; a role he’d eventually just given up fighting against and embraced.

He threw the blankets over his head; maybe if he just went back to sleep the interview would disappear.

The blankets were thrown back.

“Dude, what the fuck?” he demanded, was he allowed no privacy at all anymore?

“Get up” Xiao Xingchen jerked his head towards the bathroom.

“Fuck off. I’m not going” he reached out to push the other away.

It went about as well as yesterday had for him; he ended up face down on the bed with his arm locked up between his shoulder blades.

“Are you going to learn any time soon? I mean, kudos for persistence but lose points for stupidity. Now, last chance to get up on your own, otherwise I’ll throw you over my shoulder and you can go dressed like that”

Xue Yang wasn’t sure he believed the other was strong enough to actually carry him out of the hotel room, but he daren’t take the chance he might be dragged out kicking and screaming and dressed in his ratty old t-shirt and shorts.

“Fine, yes, I’m getting up. Let me go, please” as a street child he’d learned to beg prettily and it wasn’t a skill he was averse to using if he needed to, to survive. It didn’t need to be sincere, it just needed to sound it, to be calculated to pull on the other’s heart strings.

It didn’t seem to affect Xiao Xingchen, but he was released nonetheless.

***

Xue Yang of course arrived on time for his first interview, (there were three in total scheduled for today), as far as they went it wasn’t particularly gruelling for him, but he was fully aware he was a mess by the end of it; he’d probably come across like he was on drugs, but it wasn’t like that would be the first, second or third time the rumour would circulate in relation to him.

He knew Xiao Xingchen eyed him in consideration, but he ignored it; he didn’t have the presence of mind to survive the next two interviews and worry about what his new security agent was judging him for today.

He was much worse by the end of the second; he had been left alone a sitting room of the hotel the interview’s had been arranged at and he lowered his head into his hands, trying to even out his breathing and calm himself. His professionalism would be questioned even further if he failed to complete the last interview, or screwed up during it.

He felt the couch dip next to him, “Here” he looked up, poison on his tongue ready to be spit at Xiao Xingchen when he realised the other held out one of those large chocolate chip cookies in a napkin. There was also iced coffee sat on the table in front of him.

“Just relax, empty your head, and focus on the cookie” Xiao Xingchen informed him; raising an eyebrow as Xue Yang didn’t immediately accept the confectionery from him.

He took it with tentative thanks; and it vanished almost immediately once he’d decided to accept the gesture. Once he’d gotten the sugary coffee inside him too he felt much better.

***

Despite his trash reputation he wasn’t late for a single appointment over the next weeks; Jin Guangyao assured him it was perfectly alright to project the rebel for the masses but when you played the brat with the people in the business you’d soon be blacklisted; a risk he wasn’t willing to take with Xue Yang.

Xue Yang hadn’t managed to get near alcohol or a party in that time due to Xiao Xingchen’s hawk eyes and iron control.

Since the second morning though instead of being woken up with a bucket of water to the face or bickering the other had started showing up with a sweet pastry and a staggeringly sugary iced coffee which he traded off for Xue Yang eating better at other mealtimes.

Overall it didn’t seem Xue Yang had a moment of time where the other wasn’t somewhere close, controlling everything, keeping a watchful eye out.

And it bothered Xue Yang; he didn’t get used to the feeling of Xiao Xingchen being there like he’d been assured he would. He was still hyper aware of him, and he didn’t necessarily think it was because he was intimidated, despite the fact they’d had a few more altercations, none of which ended well for Xue Yang.

***

He tried to ditch his new security for his monthly visit to the orphanage his charity had built and ran; the less people who knew about it the better. Of course he couldn’t shake the other off so he had to attend followed by Xiao Xingchen, and explain to the children who the tall ge was. He was a great hit with them, and although Xue Yang pretended to be annoyed at Xiao Xingchen getting all the attention that the youngsters usually showered on him secretly he was entertained as he watched the other romp with the rough kids, or play softly with the quieter ones.

“This is the first time you’ve brought a bodyguard” he turned slightly at the sound of Tian Ying, the matron of the orphanage and the woman who’d helped bring him up in a similar institution when he had been a boy had come up beside him. “Are you in danger, xiao-Xue?”

“Of course not” he didn’t consider the crazy mail Jin Guangyao was filtering from him any more of a threat than any of the other mail he’d received in the last few years, and he definitely didn’t want her to worry about him, “They just decided I needed someone to carry my bags for me”

He didn’t have time to say much more as he was dragged into an impromptu game of football in the yard, where he and Xiao Xingchen were on opposite teams.

They played around half-heartedly until a Xiao Xingchen who was grace incarnate except apparently on a football pitch, stuck his foot out and took Xue Yang’s feet from under him and he tumbled. The fall itself wasn’t bad but he was a little grazed as they played on the yard and not grass.

Xiao Xingchen was unusually all apologies and personally saw to tending the grazes Xue Yang’s tumble had caused, despite his assurances he was absolutely fine. The touch of the other still made his pulse flutter in some odd emotion and the way Xiao Xingchen kept glancing up at him, like he’d discovered a rare and new species, was disconcerting. And pissed him off, because he could guess what it was about.

“Just don’t” he said through his teeth so no one around them could hear.

“Don’t what? Congratulate you on what you’ve built here? On what you’re doing for these kids?”

“Yes, don’t. I don’t want to hear it” he sucked a breath in at the sting of the antiseptic where Xiao Xingchen applied it to his grazes.

“Alright, whatever you want” Xiao Xingchen let it drop but he still looked at Xue Yang with something approaching admiration in his eyes.

And it was addictive, to have someone look at him like that, and not like he was trash. But then it had never bothered him before. Was it purely because it was Xiao Xingchen and he wanted to be more than trash in that man’s eyes?

“I guess you read too many gossip rags” Xue Yang sniped, “I’m not on drugs, in any weird cults, or a complete slut either”

Instead of bullshitting him and denying he’d thought anything of the kind Xiao Xingchen agreed instead, “I’m beginning to see that. Of course that doesn’t mean you don’t have a vile temper, that you don’t ever learn your lessons, or that you don’t sulk like a baby when I tell you no”

He was about to make one of his usual responses when the game of football moved closer and he clamped his lips closed on the curse.

There was a knowing, teasing look in the other’s eyes and as Xue Yang looked down into that finely-boned face he realised why the other’s good opinion had meant so much to him; why he was on tenterhooks whenever Xiao Xingchen was near, which was all the time at the moment, and why his pulse fluttered like his veins were full of butterflies whenever the other touched him. He was in love with Xiao Xingchen.

Well fuck.

***

Xue Yang paced around his hotel bedroom, feeling like a caged tiger. He wanted to destroy something. No, he really wanted a stiff drink.

Was he a masochist? What had made him fall in love with a man who knocked him around for fun? No of course that was unfair, Xiao Xingchen only ever restrained him and only when Xue Yang attacked first. Still, it must definitely be masochism.

Or Stockholm Syndrome; he had been at the mercy of the other, a virtual prisoner, for weeks now.

“I need a drink” he exclaimed aloud; and so he formulated a plan.

He took a quick shower and changed into something black and sexy and flashy, then he he called reception and asked for a taxi cab, and that they ring up to let him know when it had arrived.

He waited by his bedroom door, peeping through the tiniest opening for the phone to ring back; and as Xiao Xingchen got up from the couch to answer it he dashed out and past as silently as possible to give himself as much of a head-start as he could manage.

The doors of the elevator were closing just as he saw Xiao Xingchen enter the hallway and yell at him in rage.

He was in the taxi and away; his freedom all the sweeter for being carefully wrought.

***

Xue Yang was beginning to feel pleasantly buzzed and he was chatting quite happily with the guy who stood next to him at the bar of the VIP lounge. He’d been greeted by the usual crowd who hadn’t seen him around for the weeks he’d been kept prisoner, (OK maybe that was a little dramatic), but he’d never seen this guy before and new people were interesting.

Although he was beginning to get uncomfortable at how the other stared at him intently after he’d finished his drink.

He excused himself to “visit the bathroom” when life finally caught up with him. Life of course being Xiao Xingchen.

He pushed Xue Yang up against the wall of the corridor to the bathrooms, which was surprisingly currently empty.

“Hey” Xue Yang protested, although with alcohol relaxing his muscles it hadn’t really hurt as he hadn’t tensed for impact. Actually being pinned against the wall by the man you’d fallen in love with was quite nice. He had zero experience, bar some awkward kisses with a girl who’d known as little as him when he was younger, but apparently being manhandled was beginning to be something he enjoyed. Maybe because it was Xiao Xingchen though.

“I’d advise you to keep really quiet, I’m this close to spanking the living hell out of you” and really he’d never seen Xiao Xingchen’s deceptively delicate face so twisted in anger.

But of course alcohol impaired one’s judgement; to dangerous levels sometimes.

“Is that what you like?” he asked.

“What?” Xiao Xingchen was confused, his hand tightened on Xue Yang’s collar as if he suspected the other was planning something.

“Spanking, do you get off on it?”

“You really have no fucking self-preservation instincts do you?” Xiao Xingchen demanded and if Xue Yang hadn’t been so muddled due to the reaction of his body to the other, and the alcohol humming through his bloodstream he might have realised how much trouble he was in; he had never heard the other curse before in all their weeks together.

Instead he gave in to the urge pounding at the base of his brain, unable to control it anymore. He threw his arms around Xiao Xingchen’s neck and kissed him.

Well, it was clumsy and unskilled, but it probably still counted as a kiss.

He was pushed back against the wall unceremoniously, “What do you think you’re doing? You are my client. You are drunk. You are so out of line right now”

Of course he hadn’t really expected a different response. He somehow managed to pull himself free and stumbled back out into the VIP lounge.

Actually he seemed to be more drunk than he’d realised. He was suddenly barely able to control his body and he felt like his head was full of cotton wool. A hand touched his back, “Oh, you look terrible. Do you need to lie down? Should we get you out of here?” he was vaguely aware the voice wasn’t Xiao Xingchen’s, it belonged to the guy he’d been talking to at the bar, as he was guided towards the door but he really did need to lie down right now. He was about to nod his agreement when the supporting hand was violently removed.

“What the fuck did you give him?” that was Xiao Xingchen, although he couldn’t work out what the question meant. He felt the iron-grip of his security’s hand and he was pulled close to the other; he recognised the familiar scent of his aftershave and it set his mind at rest.

***

It had been days since the nightclub incident; and he’d managed to act completely clueless about the entire evening. In honesty there were huge swathes of Xue Yang’s memory that were completely blank, but he was cursed with vague recollection of him kissing Xiao Xingchen.

He wanted to die from embarrassment. He wanted to mope around at the rejection. He had to pretend like he was completely clueless about everything that happened though and let the other just write it off as a side effect of the Flunitrazepam the random guy at the nightclub had put in his drink.

He had been in touch with Jin Guangyao and begged the other to find him new security. He couldn’t carry on being around Xiao Xingchen all the time, feeling like he did, and scared to death he’d do something stupid to reveal his feelings in a way that couldn’t be pretended away like that stupid kiss.

He had faithfully promised he’d keep up the good behaviour Xiao Xingchen had bullied into him so long as Jin Guangyao replaced him with someone who wouldn’t cause Xue Yang such pain to have close.

His manager had promised to at least look into it.

Xue Yang didn’t realise he’d been wool-gathering in his head and managed to separate slightly from Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing until he saw a face in the crowd that made him uncomfortable.

He didn’t recognise the man but the fear that skittered down his spine was very real; he turned to try and get closer to Xiao Xingchen who called his name and dashed over; the flash he caught from the corner of his eye had him raising his arm in self-protection. He was dragged out of the way and thrown to the floor, catching nothing but a glancing blow as Xiao Xingchen took out the threat.

It was all very chaotic after that as the crowd helped keep the attacker captive until the police could arrive, and ambulance was also called as both he and Xiao Xingchen had taken knife wounds.

His was a cut to the arm that didn’t particularly bother him, it was the wound on Xiao Xingchen’s side that scared the life out of him. He used his folded jacket to keep pressure on the injury.

A-Qing fluttered around trying to get him to let someone else take over so they could do the same for his arm but he just waved her off; it was nothing.

“You really have no fucking self-preservation instincts” Xiao Xingchen told him in annoyance; luckily he seemed fully conscious at the moment.

“I know. I‘m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll be better from now on” he felt close to tears but fought them back brutally.

Xiao Xingchen nodded at what he said and looked into his eyes, “At least you’ll get your new bodyguard now, silver linings right?” he reached out with his left hand to thumb away one of the tears that Xue Yang hadn’t realised had escaped.

Fucking Jin Guangyao and his stupid big mouth.

“It’s for the best, xiao-Xue, in light of everything”

Which meant Xiao Xingchen was aware of his feelings and agreed the best way to deal with it was to move on. Well there went his dignity.

“You’re too precious for this cruel world in the limelight, anyway” Xue Yang tried to mock, his voice a little strangled.

“Which of us do you mean?” Xiao Xingchen asked and it was both an arrow to his heart and salve to his ego to hear such an opinion from the other.

He was glad when the paramedics had arrived and he was shuffled away to have his own wound dealt with so he could save some face. If the paramedic thought the tears were a reaction to the pain or shock of being attacked then good.

They were taken to a nearby hospital to be treated. Xue Yang’s cut needed a few stitches so he was ready to be sent away reasonably quickly, but he stayed in the waiting room until A-Qing came back to report Xiao Xingchen was fine, he’d be kept in for a few days as his would was deeper and nastier but he was stable and in no danger.

“Aren’t you going to visit before we go?” she asked, but he shook his head. And honestly she was smart enough that she probably knew what was going on and why he didn’t want to impose on the other. “Alright, lets get you back to the hotel. I think Jin Guangyao will be waiting, unfortunately, I can’t do anything to put him off this time”

Xue Yang sighed and accepted his fate.

One Month Later

The stage lights faded for the last time and he was finally able to slip offstage. He was lathered with sweat and completely exhausted. Xue Yang’s knife wound hadn’t been particularly deep or damaging but it was surprising how much it had knocked him down. He still tired out so much more easily than he was used to, but he hadn’t wanted to put this concert off, preferring to get it out of the way so he could take a holiday for a couple of weeks and use it to think about the next steps in his career, and indeed life, with nothing hanging over his head.

The man who had attacked them had been the same who had drugged his drink in the nightclub, although due to the effects Xue Yang couldn’t identify him; it had been lucky his subconscious had reacted to the man though, or it could have been so much worse.

He accepted the towel A-Qing held out for him as he met his entourage in the back stage passages and dried off, pulling on the coat she had also brought him.

There was an oddly smug look on her face and he questioned her.

“Nothing, just something funny is all” she refused to be drawn on what caused her to smile so.

They made it back to the dressing rooms and he was bundled inside.

He wondered, uncharitably, if she was on drugs.

“No rush, your car won’t be here for quite some time yet” A-Qing told him as she shut the door behind him and he turned to find his street clothes. Except he wasn’t alone.

Oh.

Suddenly he daren’t move from the doorway, not sure whether to tear it open and flee or move into the room and act like he wasn’t bothered in the slightest.

In the end he compromised, did nothing and stayed exactly where he was.

“Why are you here?” he tried to keep his voice steady, and luckily it didn’t shake too much.

“Why do you think?” Xiao Xingchen asked him.

[merrysithmas]

hi! what are your predictions for boris and theo’s future after the end of the novel? are they going to move together and where - new york or antwerp? is boris going to get clean? is theo going to find out boris lied about his wife and kids? please share your thoughts I’m really curious!

I don’t have any predictions bc I know that Donna will just ruin their lives - Lmao. But my FANTASY is that Theo becomes some kind of tenured art professor that travels back and forth from NYC to London with his grants from the high-brow University he works for — he’s head of Art History and looks up to the Dean of his school as a mentor and mother-figure (can’t get away from that one, can ya Theo).

Boris works in his underground Odessa mafia crime syndicate - stationed in Antwerp but often traveling to NYC, Tel Aviv, Miami, Budapest, London, Amsterdam, and various other places — Theo kind of on the DL works as his stony-faced accountant being a bit knowledgable on the laundering and financial fraud end of things himself (he used to dabble in millions in art fraud himself) and fine arts consultant, and everyone knows they are these inseparable partners of unknown dynamic. Boris, flippant and personable and wily, Theo quiet and elitist and aloof - always at each other’s sides.

So Theo’s become a bit of a “we have to find lost and stolen relics and return them to the places where they truly belong, or the very least to a museum!” and uses his grant money from his University to investigate such matters and has been successful in several returns (cue proud newspaper articles that Hobie framed and puts up on the mantle) and has brought some amount of prestige to the University.

However Theo’s philanthropic fixation often clashes with Boris’ “holy fuck this is worth 300 million dollars” attitude and there are hijinx, usually with Boris always caving and/or Theo making it worth his while by appealing to his Boris-ly interests (i.e. “Please I need your resources to go to Syria” “Are you fucking kidding me? For what a plank of wood?” “It’s a sacred Persian relic and it’s in the hands of people like Martin!” “Listen to my words, Potter. It is. plank. of fucking. wood.” “Fuck you, Boris. There will be gold.” “... Gold? How much gold exactly?”).

So as Theo dabbles in Boris’ life, Boris also pops up in Theo’s, unexpectedly interrupting Theo’s lectures in the halls of European museums, waving to the kids, pulling Theo away for “just a moment” as he explains someone in the museum in trying to kill him insisting they “switch coats” and Theo has to hide him in the archives. Or he plops down while Theo is eating outside in a café in Strasbourg, casually sitting down across from him while Theo grades papers and smiles to himself at the familiar shadow falling on his gradebook (they eventually get into a fight and Theo calls him a “walking contraceptive” before he blusters off and Boris is left to eat the rest of Theo’s brunch in the company of a bunch of diners who are side-eying him, taking to reading a paper Theo left behind while finishing his Gerwurztraminer).

Or Boris is exhuasted, burning the midnight oil, black rings under his eyes, thinner than usual, wiry and punkish, under the gun, dead asleep on Theo’s couch in his office at his London library University headquarters, and Theo carefully tucks a heavy woolen blanket around his shoulders as he sleeps like the dead, deep tired breaths, safe, at home, as the rain pours down like a flood outside and Theo smokes quietly in the dark working on another grant proposal.

Or Theo turns up at Boris’ door in Antwerp, late nightcap after a surprise flight for a conference and seminar that he hasn’t told Boris about, and he sees Boris has barely eaten for weeks, holed up after trying to figure he and his gang’s way out of some absolute fuckery they got themselves into and losing one of his longtime members in the process — grieving and he can’t show anyone else and it hurts. And Theo runs his hand through Boris’ hair, and Boris closes tired, red eyes. And Theo is cooking him a meal at 3am, putting on some boiling hot tea, insisting he “come home” for a while. To New York.

New York City in the winter — operas and symphonies — snow falling like feathers and covering Central Park, winter holidays from school and Theo doesn’t have work, gallery events at museums that Boris can complain about - the Old Rich Hierarchal stuffiness - the insulting of which always makes him feel a bit better. Old movies and (bad, hard) drugs and stealing shit for old times sake from Duane Reade even though Boris has enough money for the two of them to span three lifetimes. Hot showers after getting in from the freezing cold and Theo’s apartment is meticulous and Boris disturbs it like a tornado. And they sleep in and for some brief moments, sometimes, tipped over vodka bottles, creaking floorboards in the night, city sounds and Vegas-bright Christmas lights, it’s like they’re kids again.

Meanwhile on the other end Boris’ gang is like a second family to Theo — Myriam, Gyuri, Cherry, Anatoly, Shirley T, Dima (and all their girlfriends, wives, boyfriends - sometimes all three): one is constantly showing up in rotation somehow in Theo’s life. Either randomly in London pulling him off the street “casually” SWEARING he’s not the subject of an assassination plot, or turning up sheepishly and/or desperately at his doorstep for some Boris un-sanctioned advice that Theo feels he is not exactly equipped to give (advice on girlfriends or spurned wives or cheating or kids or haircuts or boobjobs or what’s “in fashion in New York”) but they keep showing up like he’s the crew psychologist so he just pulls out the dining chair at this point. Myriam, now a close friend forged by their mutual taste for the High End of life, keeps an eye on Boris for Theo when Theo is across the ocean — she knows why, of course, they all do, an open secret. The whole gang has them, a criminal syndicate of misfits.

And one day Theo comes to Boris with a proposal to go to Siberia to retrieve an ancient sacred object called The Divine Source (an source of immortality) that was coveted and obscured by the Soviet Union and Boris is like fuck no Fuck no because if there is one place on Earth that Boris fears and sends a shiver up his spine and he doesn’t fuck with - it’s Mother Russia. Growing up in post-Soviet countries it’s an unspoken unanimous agreement among the gang, an overhanging government that has mostly wanted or had their eyes on them all since they were kids for various reasons - stealing or living on the street or used by street gangs - something you don’t want to get involved with or retamper.

And Theo’s a bit obtuse, still American for all his worldly ventures and education, having grown up in relative privilege from a sociological standpoint, and is super upset about Boris’ refusal to help (and thus, his gang’s refusal to help) - thinking they’re overreacting or being bombastic about their fears. The Dean is insisting on his help and Boris has long held suspicions about this lady and has kept it to himself because of Theo’s adulation of her (Boris knows Theo and mother figures are let’s say, a sensitive spot). Not wanting to disappoint the University (and moreover - her) Theo says fine he’ll just go alone to which Boris freaks the fuck out claiming its dangerous and he’s going to get himself killed and the Dean is an untrustworthy bitch who is manipulating him.

Cue an all-out end-of-times fight with Theo basically saying fuck him for all time, he’s done. And Theo leaves for Siberia by way of Syria, and Boris is fuming, left behind.

Long story short Theo gets betrayed by the Dean in a moment of gutwrenching horrifying realization - he was being used, Boris was right, now she has the relic and he’s going to die alone and freezing to fucking death, shot by some operative from the secret organization that Dean is in — he hears footsteps, sees the armored guard walking towards him with a gun, feels his stomach drop and braces himself and then Pow - the guy falls to the ground after a blow to the head revealing— Boris, behind him.

And Theo, overjoyed, alive, is asking how the fuck he got here, what he’s doing here— to which Boris replies incredulously Who do you think has been keeping you safe all this time?

Then Boris, who is very much on edge in this place, gets captured and tortured and Theo is forced to find and hand over the Divine Source in exchange for his life — which he does, terrified of the Source getting into their hands but more terrified of losing Boris. The Source is then greedily opened and eats all of their souls (because of moral impurity reasons but spares Theo and Boris for their self-sacrifcing devotion to each other) a la Raiders of the Lost Ark because of what Theo discovers, excitedly, was a mistranslation in Aramaic (thief of eternal life, not giver) and Boris is like — talk about what do you call it? false advertising.

So they return back to Antwerp with nothing but they’ve got each other and they snooze hard on each other on the plane ride back — several pounds of gold glinting away in Boris’ carry-on under the seat, alongside some old notes of other obscure and stolen relics, because he unknowingly picked up the Dean’s bag, not his, when escaping the sacred city.

So basically their life is a mix of Lara Croft video games (when I got the Divine Source storyline lmao but added a few things), Eastern Promises, The Odd Couple, The Da Vinci Code, and dark academia mixed with shitton of doping. With this mostly unspoken bi-continental devotion to each other over-arching it all.

[curiosity-killed]

almost like memory

@bbtree first off: thank you so much <3 and also thank you for accidentally giving me an excuse to wander off into a Shallura genre I don’t normally touch (ngl I had to make myself stop bc otherwise I was never going to get it posted - so fingers crossed, there may be more to come!)

————

His colors are wrong. Under the fluorescent lights, everyone becomes washed out and green-tinged, like they're half-human, half-hologram. The group leader had apologized for it at their first session, explaining that the church didn't have the money to upgrade to the new system that illuminates most the city. Attendance has dropped off over the years, and now more people enter for these support groups than for Sunday services. If she had to guess, it's only the state funding for these groups that's even keeping the flickering lights on.

The lights aren't the problem with him. It's something deeper, bigger: his hair's too dark or there's something missing in his face or his green t-shirt is the wrong shade. He should be in black. She brushes the thoughts away with a shake of her head. This is the first time she's ever seen the man, and they haven't even met yet. Just another delusion, mixing streams. The doctors have assured her that it’s normal, that though she can’t remember it, she still has a past locked away inside her, and occasionally her subconscious might let a little slip through and muddle her new reality. He introduces himself as Ryou Kurogane, and it’s wrong wrong wrong. The intensity of her conviction is stomach-churning, nearly nauseating. She can’t get it to shut up. He smiles at her when it’s her turn to introduce herself, and she smiles back reflexively before she remembers to duck her head, let her hair fall in a dark curtain between them.

Words don’t come easily to her. She doesn’t know if that’s new or if it’s always been that way. The doctors weren’t much help; they don’t like to talk about her past at all, even if they know it. They say it isn’t conducive to healthy recovery, to establishing her new identity. 

After the session, Ryou – not Ryou, wrong wrong wr— stays to help the group leader fold up and stack the chairs along the side. She finds herself lingering, reluctant to leave. She doesn’t know why, exactly, just that there’s something drawing her to stay. To keep close to him. She’s fussing with the water cups, flimsy little biodegradable things, when she hears him step up close. “Hi,” he says. She startles at how close his voice is, and when she turns, he raises his hands in apology. There’s something not quite right about them. They’re too similar, identical creases in his palms. She shakes it off. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says. “You’re Romelle, right?” Somehow, the name the doctors gave her sounds even more wrong in his voice. Her lips twitch up in what’s meant to be a smile but comes out closer to a grimace. “And you’re Ryou,” she says. It doesn’t sound better in her voice either. “That’s me,” he says, pushing his hands back into his pockets. His shoulders curve in with the motion, as if he’s trying to narrow himself, bend himself into a smaller space. He’s taller than her. She’s not sure why it surprises her, except that she thinks he wasn’t always. Isn’t always. That makes no sense at all. It’s not like their heights could change. “Sorry, you just – you seem really familiar,” Ryou-not-Ryou says. “I – uh wanted to say hi.” “Oh,” she says. Surprise ripples through her – and relief. It’s a foreign thing, distant, as if from someone else. “I uh – I’m – I’m sorry, I was in an accident a few months ago and don’t remember – much.” The words stumble out of her mouth, tripping and falling over each other all out of order. She winces when they land, regret rushing through her before she can shut herself up. “Oh!” Ryou says. “I – I know how you feel.” She stares, waiting for the second half of whatever joke this must be. “I was in an accident, too. Amnesia, everything before is just – blank,” he explains. It seems almost too perfect to be true. How could they wind up with the same story? But there’s nothing but sincerity in his voice and gaze, and something deep in her chest says he wouldn’t lie. Not about this. Not to her. “Oh. That’s – I’m sorry,” she says. He gives a little shrug with his left shoulder as if to brush off the apology. The smile he offers her doesn’t reach his eyes, just pulls up one side of his lips. “Sounds like we’re in the same ship anyway,” he says. A funny way of saying it, but she manages a smile in response. There’s something worming up her chest, words half-formed in her throat. “Do you wanna get a bite?” He looks almost surprised by his own words, as if he hadn’t meant to let them escape. She feels the same when she answers without a conscious decision. “Yes.” They wind up in a little diner half a block down from the church, a quiet little Akubari place that uses an outdated waitstaff model, the kind that would have been popular when Allura was young. It’s all blank, but she spent hours researching them one night, watching videos of their jerky movement and listening to recordings of their little trills and beeps, in case someone brought up nostalgia for them around her. They haven’t yet, but when they do, she’s ready. She’s prepared with a whole set of pretend memories so she’ll have a chance to connect with this future stranger, a chance to imagine a shared experience. He orders tea and grilbeck with mango and she settles on water and a thick yellow soup. Learning – relearning – her own tastes over the last few months has largely been too daunting a task to expend much effort towards; she's grown used to the food that's cheap and easy, sandwiches and pre-packaged dinners. She's not sure she likes them exactly, but figuring out how to live without a past, without an identity or network or any kind of supporting structure, is exhausting enough that sometimes she just wants something to be easy. Food is a simple enough opportunity for that. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried Akubari,” she remarks. At least not in the last three months. Maybe the other her, the past her, had. “One of my neighbors is from Akubara, actually,” he says. “They kinda got me hooked on it.” There’s a sheepish tone to his voice, as if he’s almost embarrassed by the admission. It makes her smile, her nerves inanely assuaged by the description. She doesn’t really have neighbors – or, well, there are people who live in the apartments beside and above and below hers, but they don’t talk. She’s seen maybe two of them out and about in the building all told. “I’ve heard their food culture incorporates a great deal of sharing,” she says. “Yeah! Drufbila just showed up at my door one day and ushered me in to the dinner table like I was their cousin or something,” he laughs. “Their mom kept fussing over whether I was eating enough, of course.” She breathes out a laugh at that, struck by the image of the great tentacled Akubari prodding him to take just a little more of each dish. Next to their towering, amorphous forms, his lean frame probably would seem underfed. It warms her to know someone, at least, is looking out for him. Weird. She shakes the thought away, disguises it as amusement. “What about your neighbors? Any nosey grandmas there?” he asks, leaning his cheek on his hand. The motion curves his body towards her, shoulders and waist twisted as if to block out the few diners sitting in the rest of the restaurant. His attention is a gentle thing, like sunlight or — Ridiculous. The sun hasn’t been seen through the smog here in decades. She’d have to have been off-planet to have an idea of what sunlight felt like, and surely, then, someone would have been there after her accident. No one traveled alone, not that far. If she ever had, there would have been someone to notice her missing, someone to seek her out. “Oh, no,” she says. “I’m afraid my building mostly keeps to ourselves.” “That’s a shame,” he says, a sympathetic twist to his lips. “Can’t help with–” He flicks his hand up in a little gesture towards his head, and she shrugs. “It can be a little lonely,” she concedes. Before he can ask more, their food arrives on the creaking arm of their servant and is slid onto their table in three jerky pushes. Her soup nearly slops over the lip of the blue bowl with the motion, and she has to steady it with her hands. Finished, the robot gives a happy little beep, and he reaches out to pat its head. “Thanks, bud,” he says. The robot rolls away with a contented little three-note trill. He turns back to her with a little smile and lifts his fork. “Bon appetite,” he says. “Buen provecho,” she answers, from somewhere she doesn’t quite recognize. He grins, still, and she can’t bring herself to question it when that smile is so unmuddied, so clear and easy. “You wanna try some?” he offers, gesturing to his plate with the fork. Orange glaze covers the blue of the grilbeck meat, turning it almost green, and mango slivers stick out of the flesh like oddly colored spines. It’s pretty, in its own way, even in the yellowish light of the diner. “Sure,” she agrees. “Want some of mine?” They wind up with the dishes in the middle of the table, snagging a bite from each plate with equal frequency. It feels…familiar. Comfortable. Like this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. She recognizes something in his expression when he takes the first spoonful from her soup and cants his head, considering. She’s seen that look before, seen the thoughtful way he savors the bite before swallowing and giving a thumbs up. Partway into their meal, conversation resumes once more, and comes back to them as easily as sharing. “Yeah, I have Doctor Honerva, too! That’s so weird,” he says. “How have we not bumped into each other at her office?” She shakes her head and licks a bit of mango glaze off her bottom lip. His gaze drops to follow the motion, just briefly, before flitting back to meet hers. A flush starts, warm pleasure rising in her cheeks. “It’s quite a coincidence,” she agrees. Maybe that’s where she remembers him from – maybe she’s seen him in passing and those memories have become conflated with those locked away from her. “Maybe we’ll see each other now that we’ve met.” “I’d like that,” he says. There’s a warmth to his gaze, a steady sincerity in his tone, that makes her duck her head. This is the longest she’s spent with anyone aside from her doctors since waking to a cold white room three months ago. It’s getting to her head, surely. She’s not sure she minds. “Me, too,” she agrees, meeting his gaze. The moment stretches between them, soft and welcome. She could make a home in this moment, in the gentle way he looks at her, in the pleasure in the soft curve of his lips. For the first time in months, she feels warm. Safe. A four-note beep announces the robot’s return, breaking apart their quiet. They split the check and head to the door. It’s started raining, the drizzly kind that leaves the whole city stinking of wet concrete. For once, it doesn’t bother her. It’s barely a footnote next to the chapter that this evening has become. He pauses outside the door, hands back in his pockets, shoulders bowed inward. “I’m down that way,” he says, nodding in the opposite direction of her apartment. “I’m afraid I’m the opposite way,” she says. Do his shoulders slump? Maybe she’s just looking for signs now. “I – I’d really like to see you again. If you want,” he says. He bites down on the inside of his bottom lip, watching her intently. Warmth flushes through her, up to the tips of her ears. She smiles and only barely keeps it from beaming. “I’d quite like that, too,” she admits. “Here, why don’t we trade numbers?” At that, he seems to light up from within. He straightens out, broad shoulders squaring back into their full breadth, and he pulls his phone from his pocket immediately. Surprised delight radiates through his entire being as he unlocks it and flips through to the right screen. Watching him through her lashes as she does the same, she can’t suppress the feeling that this, for once, is right. This is what is meant to be. Somehow, impossibly. They trade numbers and say farewell with smiles, and when she glances back over her shoulder as she walks away, she catches him looking back as well. They both laugh, as if at themselves, and give a little wave before continuing on their way. When she gets home, she’s greeted by a grave-like apartment and her treatment unit sitting ready on her end table. She stands in her doorway, considering the machine. It’s simple, easy to use. Back at the hospital, there’s a much larger version, but this one was specifically designed for home treatment. She’s supposed to use it every night, to help her brain heal. It always leaves her feeling numb, grey. Like it strips the color from her day and replaces it with a fresh coat of waiting-room-off-white. Normally, that isn’t much of a problem. Her routine is simple and largely emotionless. Painting over it is like laying a layer of grey over ninety other layers of nearly the same shade. Today, though – she wants to keep today. She wants the gentle gold of his attention, the soft grey of his eyes. The colors aren’t quite right – but at least there are colors this time. There are shades and hues she doesn’t know she’s ever seen or felt. It’s not what the doctors told her to do, but she doesn’t want to sacrifice them this time. She doesn’t want to cover up the silver flecks in his eyes with matte. The unit is tucked neatly in her bathroom cabinet, and she settles into her blankets with a strange feeling of satisfaction. That night, she dreams impossible things. She dreams of space, unfurling in feathery nebulae with tendrils curling purple and red around newborn stars. She dreams of machines, great ships and weapons that soar through the edges of the universe. She dreams — of him. His warm eyes, his fierce dedication. His hands, one flesh and one metal, cradling her jaw like something precious, like something to be adored. His lips are soft when they press against hers, his heart beats steady and strong against her palm. His voice aches when he speaks, a single word that is a prayer, a plea, a promise – “Allura,” he says. “Allura, Allura, Allura.”

[homosociallyyours]

getting to know me

I was tagged by @sukiandmuzzy, @always-aqua, and @jlf23tumble in this 21 question cavalcade--thank y’all so much!! These dumb things are my fave bc I’m basic af. So. here we go. the rules are...answer the questions. that’s all. i’ll tag people too, but not a set number, so if you love these things and wanna do this one, DO IT!!!

Nickname: Meggles, Beene, Beenie, Beener, Dottie, Milton. All but the last are variations of my name (middle, last, first, in that order). The last one came from my ex, who actually got it from Winter’s Bone, because it was the book he was reading when we got together. There’s a scene where the main character is naming all the Miltons in her family. Somehow it got into his head, and then it just stuck. I left it in Austin, but I still have a fondness for it.  

Zodiac: Taurus sun/moon/mercury, Gemini rising, Venus in Cancer, Mars in Virgo. into it, obviously. I’m totally that guy who has gotten everyone in the office to do their natal chart and who follows 807 astrology meme accounts. 

Height: 5′5″

Last movie I saw: I haven’t seen a movie in a theater for a hot second. That was the new Fantastic Beasts. At home, I rewatched Elf on Christmas Eve. 

Last thing I googled: “williams console heater” -- we’re getting a new heater this week, and that’s the brand/model. I was showing my housemate. 

Favorite musicians: The Indigo Girls, One Direction, Dolly Parton, Gretchen Phillips.  

Song stuck in my head: She’s a Rainbow

Other blogs: @ohharrymylove is where I put 1d masterposts and history things as well as stunty stuff i don’t want on my main, @darlingdomesticbatch is the now defunct cumberbatch hey girl meme account i used to co-run with a friend, @heycheeselady is my oft-neglected cheese blog, and then there are 2 more blogs that are pretty empty but that i am kinda saving for a rainy day-- dirtbagharrie and sassymartinfreeman. i am also co-mod on a hypnokink blog with a pal but i never do anything with it, i’m sorry chu <3

Do I get asks: sometimes. I usually get a couple with ask games, and then every few weeks a random anon saying/asking something. it’s rare for me to get hate, though you wouldn’t know anyway bc i just delete it :) 

Following: 1024...oops. i got it down a while ago, but tbh i enjoy following lots of people and am very gregarious. if you wanna be mutuals with me just send me a couple of asks or messages and i’ll probably add you back unless you reaaaally don’t tag and you post stuff i would normally blacklist (reylo or zombies)

Amount of sleep: 6-12. rebel rebel. 

Lucky number: 5

What I’m wearing: lularoe leggings (listen they’re soft i can’t help it) and an old hoodie that i had kinda forgotten about but that i’m pleased to rediscover

Dream job: rn it’s being paid to exist. if i could make enough money to live just by being alive, it would take away a huge strain from my life. In general, though, my dream job is to be part of a team that goes into homes and schools and teaches cheese classes: developing palates and vocabularies, showing people how to care for cheese, providing knowledge and cool facts about cheesestuffs. I also kinda want this as a youtube channel. i do sorta have the goal to do that this year if i’m able. 

Dream trip: I usually say France and other parts of Europe for a very specific cheese trip, but right now it’s one of these 2 places--either Hawaii with @statementlou for 2 weeks of being relaxed cryptid gal pals or 2 weeks in Tacoma with @pompomoffinland and his spouse and their kiddo for some superb cuddles and flaming rainbows. 

Favorite food: I am contractually obligated to say cheese. It’s definitely the food I’m most passionate about, and I cannot think of my life without it in some form. 

Play any instruments: I know how to strum a ukulele. I’m not great, but I am passable if nobody else knows how to play. I can also play the spoons decently and am a singer. 

Languages: English, Spanish (un poco), the asl alphabet and some random words (coffee! tree! dance! I got a book from the library when I was 11 and have good retention). I also know the greek alphabet, so I can struggle through saying something that’s written in greek, but then have...no idea what it means. unless it’s obvious. Oh also I speak cheese (obviously), which means I can pronounce French town names sometimes and not sound like the uncultured American I truly am. 

Favorite songs: “Three County Highway” (Indigo Girls); “Fireproof” (1D); “Ain’t Life a Brook” (Ferron); “The Weakness in Me” (Joan Armatrading); “The Luckiest” (Ben Folds); “I Spent My Last $10 on Birth Control and Beer” (Two Nice Girls); “She’s Amazing” (Team Dresch); “1950″ (King Princess) to name a few. 

Random fact: “grassfed” is an empty term that can mean anything from cows grazing on fresh pasture year round to cows being kept in pens and fed a fermented grass product called silage that’s actually not much better for their stomachs than grain. so if you care about animals being pastured, know where your cheese is coming from and be prepared to pay a premium--grazing cattle is not cheap for a lot of reasons

Random fact about me? I didn’t date AT ALL in high school, partly because no boy ever expressed even the faintest interest and partly because I also wasn’t interested and honestly partly because I was actually queer and just didn’t have words for it. No regrets, tho, dang. I kinda think nobody should date in high school. UNPOPULAR OPINION, i know. 

Describe yourself as aesthetic things: pale skin spilling out from the top of a cotton dress; firm jersey milk cheese wrapped in rustic brown cheese paper; a bouquet of ranunculus; milky tea in a sturdy ceramic mug; brown sugar cubes; tangled seaweeds and algaes drying on the beach; a stack of fat quarters in various solid and patterned pinks; a photograph of a single white cloud against a bright blue sky with just the edge of tree in frame; hugging a tree

hmmmm I’ll tag... @captiveharts @deaflock @livingrepetition @billiethepoet @thearrowsheart @harryincamp @harryisapackersfan @pennywhistle @la-paritalienne and @goldbootsandvans

no pressure, pals! 

[revenblue]

Finally watched MML in English, liveblogging under the cut.

when I watched in Japanese I called the whole thing with Heinz doing the recap "inspired". now that I can understand it, I can see just how inspired it really is (far more than I'd thought), I'm love. I forgot just how much I love Heinz

he doesn't believe Cavendish about him being Professor Time ;_; (admittedly I have Opinions about that whole plotline but)

the jingle for Time Chips, omg

Cav's so willing to strip off for his celeb crush omg. and Heinz is Uncomfortable. (also, looks like "wearing underwear with your crush's face" is a thing people in Dwampyverse do :P)

yeah, accusing Melissa and Zack of dating is sure to be ship fuel

of course the diversion's Melissa's idea, that conniving little (I love her)

"stop foreshadowing" omg

Baljeet's singing is so good. such harmony (my former church choir soprano brain provided the term "descant" but uh yeah)

that jingle XD and of course Heinz's priorities are such a mess that he'd rebrand before he saves the world

Heinz thinking Diogee's an agent, beautiful~ and out of "habit" XD then again, his best friend is short and furry, it's no wonder he'd leap to that conclusion

ahh, foreshadowing with that orange soda thing ("destroying the environment" wow)

Heinz's snark at the questions about Perry, ahaha I love him

okay so "time juice" (it feels weird to hear him call it that) isn't Pizzazzium Infinionite itself, just... similar. :/

"who keeps a clock in their backpack? that's just weird" not as weird as a gd anchor, Milo

"maybe we're related"

"he's either saying he's going with you, or he regrets the impulsive mistakes of his youth" both. it's both, and the """""mistake""""" is falling in love with you, Heinz (but he loves you enough to just sigh about it sometimes)

the way the music pauses when Milo falls into the bush, that's amazing XD

Perry's hypercompetence is so damn attractive, wow *swoons* god I'm such a furry

King Pistachion's instructions to his "kids" is so great XD

that mask gag XD

"too much exposition" "yeah that's probably why your show was cancelled" ooh burn

"yeah no pressure" that's gonna come up later isn't it

Milo's dancing is so great, haha. and that scorecard gag, so perfect

ah, Dwampy, always bringing us those classy bathroom jokes

"Ducky MoGo" I mean it's a catchy name... XD (her intro's kinda underwhelming though. that's where my nitpicks are, the plot)

joking about Ferb talking, nice. and the "yes, yes it has".

"well it does kinda describe us, but it's just rude", that callback :D

"what are the odds" "better than you think" ah yes Milo shows up again

Dakota listing off animals, nice. in alphabetical order, too. also I love that beard sight gag still

"you won't let me sing the zoo song" yeah that probably got old real fast

Go Fish with hot sauce packets. er, hot sauce packet singular. it really says something that Perry's happy to go along with that idea (it's bc it's Heinz, I think)

"'careful' or 'hurry', choose one" yeah it is kinda a choice of one or the other XD

and he squished the hot sauce packet XD

cupholder joke, I love it XD

that extended view of the window with the sounds of destruction. perfect cross-language joke

"what do you usually do when things go wrong" their silence here is telling. (also, the answer? Phineas yells.)

"we have no frame of reference for that" yup

Perry beating up Pistachions to cover for Heinz, I'm love

Candace's attitude to Milo is uh... not fun

"no human being has a neck that long"

ah yes, the duck is still after Elliot, of course

"hey, sometimes Murphy's Law" can be totally helpful!" yyyyyyeah...

oh hey, a woodpecker

okay, the thinking Candace is a Pistachion thing makes that scene make a whole lot more sense

"I was talking about me. we need this guy around" oh, Candace...

"my bad" "we still need him!" I love that XD

the sitcom gags are doubly amusing with the context of the dialogue XD they were good when I watched it originally, but now? amazing. but also wtf Heinz why

"and that's why we use a cupholder"

ah yes, The Island. when I first watched this I knew it was The Island, even before the reveal

oof, Cav dealing with his hero worship not being such a hero. never fun.

Perry's just standing there though, what are you doing Perry

ugh Heinz needs a hug, Perry what are you waiting for

"I know when I'm not wanted" oh Heinz ;_;

it's... it's this bit. where Perry kinda just disappears entirely? there's no other reason for him not going after his nemesis to reassure him the way he always does.

"okay now that's environment. no wonder they banned this stuff." ah yes the callback

and Orton showing up to relate, which is... it makes sense at least? (but where the hell is Perry?)

"oh look a ukelele" Heinz why

ooh the SONG

"and there's a future self up to which I have to measure" oof

"no matter where I go, oh look, I'm already there" *Homestuck intensifies*

and the gd mid-song genre switch. with the "throwing money away" sight gag. ye gods. XD

"I forgot where I was going with this" nice going Heinz

"apparently the locals are not music fans" yeah it takes a suave semiaquatic personification of unstoppable dynamic fury to love your singing voice, Heinz :P

and the reveal of it being The Island, this'll be... yeah

oh hey, voiceover montage song from Milo

is this an Uptown Funk reference? I'm not sure, I don't keep up to date with pop music, but it looks like a reference

OH yeah, Melissa did a ton of research herself. she'd be happy with all this new data

Baljeet's totally flirting there too

...the jokes about Zack and Melissa dating are... idk. they're amusing in the moment but the premise they're built off is uh. I don't like it.

oh boy, the explanation of Murphy's Law... you know, that kinda breaks my suspension of disbelief a little. because instead of unspoken rules, it's now spoken rules with details to find inconsistencies in

"montage time!" I love him

gotta say, I do love the occasional gag of "things spontaneously catch on fire", that's always fun

"several hundred" Dakotas? looks like the 102 estimate from that episode was lowballing... or he's guesstimating

"you're gonna laugh" "probably not" I mean if you set the death montage to cheerful music...

huh, he told the truth. idk why I was expecting him to lie but I was so that's a surprise

he took it really well, which. eh, idk, I figured it'd be used for angst at some point. but apparently not.

oh so it's this SPECIFIC orange soda. also Dakota's been doing this for a while I guess

"well I'm not the environment" these two are... far too similar. Dan Povenmire's typecast himself I guess

"we're gonna need a lot of cupholders" ah yes the cupholder joke again XD

aaaaaand they're captured.

"we had to switch over to the HDMI cables" I love this joke XD

"you and what army" "that army" ahhhh. cliché but always satisfying

oh hi Isabella, showing up in the last uh ten minutes. and flirting a little with Phineas of course but eh this plot point came out of absolutely nowhere

I love how, when Heinz falls out of the thing, Perry's first reaction is to jump out after him and save him. it's a fun dynamic to bring back. also did I mention Perry's competence is attractive?

"oh, that was touching" ahaha XD

"don't mess with Doctor Zone- Doctor Zone? who's Doctor Zone?" XD

welp, giant Pistachion

oof. can really feel its dilemma. poor giant Pistachion :c

giant Pistachion redemption ;_;

"here's an adaptor we needed" XD

AAAAAAA PERRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYy, my heart ;_; he saved them, risking his cover, I can't ;_;

and he retreated to pet mode just in time, ugh ;_; PERRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY ;_;

then he leaves as soon as they're not looking and disappears from the plot

"Murphy's Law And Order" omg

loving that accurate tech support gag

blasting familiar yet not plot relevant characters so we see how bad things are. gotta keep us invested

lemon callback, nice

radioactive watermelon is a bit... out of nowhere. why is he carrying that in his backpack again? (especially when he doesn't carry a clock)

"blowtorch and some peanut butter" nice refrance

yeah, seeing everyone as a Pistachion is... not good. (tbh when I first saw this my only thought was "I hope Heinz isn't in there" bc I'm er biased)

and Heinz is fine, that's a relief. Perry musta kept him safe... speaking of which, where is Perry?

"Vanessa's dad" hm... okay this is a weird epithet but it kinda makes sense with how they'd know him, considering Ferb's crush on Vanessa...

"no, I am Professor Time, and we are not out of time until I say so!" hhhhhh I have a lot of feelings about this. it's dramatic, which is always fun, but. ugh I'm biased, I love Heinz

and the deus ex machina. which is... not quite out of nowhere, but. hhhhhh I have Opinions.

Cav's squee is adorable

nice use of the Doctor Zone theme

ah yes the letter, almost forgot about that plot point from Missing Milo

"I don't feel so good" okay that's not the dialogue but still!

nooooooo not Giant Pistachion ;_;

oh right, in this timeline Doctor Zone wasn't a thing, so Sara's shirt was blank

"wait a minute, why am I still part plant?" amazing

"we're going to be in serious trouble aren't we" yup

rip DEI

"my building! ugh. can I crash on your couch?" CALLED IT

"feel free to cross over any time" heh

oh Heinz XD "where do you guys keep the extra toilet paper? I'm asking for a friend" so either he had an "accident" or Perry had an "accident" (...it's the latter. it's gotta be the latter. Agent Pee strikes again)