#look at me getting annoyed with fiction aimed a teenagers

[wordsandrobots]

OK, I have two overall things to say about Gundam SEED: Destiny (I’ve been sick, binging this nominally staved off extreme boredom; spoilers to follow).

Number 1: Arthur Trine is doing his best, damnit, and I hope he got a cup of tea and a sit down once everything was over.

Number 2: what an incredibly frustrating show.

In many ways it is leaps and bounds ahead of its predecessor, freed from literally repeating the same set-pieces of the original Gundam to tell a story that, honestly, has something approaching a meaningful point. Chairman Durandal is a compelling antagonist and the way he and Teen!Le Cookset gradually break the series’ pseudo-protagonist to their perspective is narratively interesting. The underlying message in what he does -- about how those in power pick out enemies that will best serve their ends and present themselves as the reasonable ones -- is definitely worth exploring. And the show even manages to address the Gundam-overload issues from SEED, by more clearly delineating the point of each machine and staggering them a bit more competently.

However. It inherits the problem of its length exceeding its content, leading to more stock-footage abuse and, far less forgivably, *three* clips shows, only one of which (the last, focused on Meer) has any actual merit. It also continues SEED’s determination to screw over every single female character who isn’t Lacus. For the record, I *like* Lacus: she’s a nice execution of someone having a ‘typical’ presentation wrapped around a core of stainless steel conviction, which is something I always enjoy in fiction. However, Cagalli in particular is an utter waste of potential, not being allowed to mature, gain focus, or make a single bloody decision without Kira or Athrun’s input, to the point where it’s actively aggravating to watch.

This is where we hit the limits of the genre and demographic, of course, and once again makes me appreciate literally every female character in IBO because Gundam generally is so very *not good* at this. (Obviously G-Witch is ahead again on the score, thankfully, but IBO is probably the best-case scenario within the ‘fiction aimed at boys’ problems that plague its predecessors.)

Shinn is similarly annoying. It’s not a bad thing he’s abrasive and the endpoint was always going to be him winding up a broken, weeping wreck because he’s too stupid to recognise anything beyond his own feelings. But his trauma flashbacks hit parodic very early and he’s far too irritating to be worth sitting through his screen-time. Like Kira, only the problem is the presence of personality rather than its total fucking absence.

My biggest complaint, however, is reserved for the variety of ways SEED:Destiny buggers up its good ideas. I’d have liked it a lot more if ‘Logos’ hadn’t actually been a thing. ‘Shadowy conspiracy doing [bad thing] from the shadows in the name of profit’ is the kind of message that gets slung around a lot in real life with no justification whatsoever and it really doesn’t help counter the people who do that if you hinge your plot on ‘no the Illuminati actually do have a giant laser on the moon.’ The cleverer and more cutting twist would have been to reveal there was no actual group called Logos and while the people Durandal named might have had interests in common, he was really just lumping them together for his own convenience.

You know. As scapegoats. Like the way this goes in reality, with the matters that this show is sticking its oar in and trying to Say Something about.

But no, because once more, this is a story interested in emotional reactions and personal epiphanies over any sort of systemic question because, well . . . that’s typical, isn’t it? Frustrating but not unexpected. Eureka Seven does nearly everything SEED/SEED:Destiny attempts better and that is hardly the first case of that happening with a Gundam show. Possibly this is just galling me more than usual because there are so many [swerves around the obvious pun] traces of a more interesting story here.

Oh well. Mu steadily getting his memories back was fun and I shall be taking the final epilogue to mean he, Murrue and Andrew settled down to a life of coffee-fueled polyamory. Yzak yeeting himself on to the right side of the final battle through sheer indignation was actually kind of funny. And I will give it credit, this did feel like one of the more meaningful ‘final battles to destroy a giant super-weapon’ out of the many, many times Gundam has done that (including in SEED, for gods’ sake). If nothing else, I appreciate the chutzpah of having Durandal rock up in an off-brand Death Star, right down to a recoloured Emperor’s chair.

Whatdyouknow. I actually did have something to say about this one. I think that just leaves Victory for main series I haven’t watched (I finished G Fighter; it was joyfully ridiculous). That probably won’t be changing any time soon. Ranking wise . . . SEED:Destiny probably sits around equal with 00 for me.

[rpsense]

I don't really understand all this talk about FCs who are 18 21 etc. You gotta the draw the line somewhere. If you draw it some semi-arbitrary age anyway, then that number becomes the new cutoff for whatt's icky. If you make the minimum age 25 it doesn't make stalking til the minute they turn 25 any better.

Eventually people have to either come to terms that thirsting after celeb faces is icky in general or just accept that what they're doing is fiction and let people fucking write. Openly lusting after middle-aged men doesn't make you better. Not to mention the ethics get blurred when you have entire industries like kpop who specifically aim for the young, boyish look even from artists well into their 20s. Just because the face in question is 27 doesn't make your thirst for the teenage look feel any more respectable.

Stop treating faces as canvases to project your thirst onto and none of this is a fucking problem. You're supposed to be writing characters and stories.

if you're going to come into our inbox and have the audacity to compare thirsting after a literal turned 18 five minutes ago faceclaim to thirsting after a middle aged man then do us a favour and don't come into our inbox at all .

if you want to discuss people projecting their fantasies on faceclaims , that's a whole other issue . but to say 18 or 21 is an arbitrary age is ridiculous . you're a minor under 18 . an actual , literal child . don't tell me i need to explain to you why you shouldn't be sexualising children or using them as faceclaims . 18 and 25 are VASTLY different . the issues in the kpop industry are a separate conversation from this . write characters and stories that involve ADULTS with ADULT faceclaims . why do you have an issue with that ? - o

edit: has anyone ever told you that you’re really fucking annoying? - x

[fific7]

Evil Twins - Part 2

Billy Russo & Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Summary: When two worlds which have already collided then collide with yours - that’s an explosive situation.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with quite a lot of lemon zest 🍋 My Fantasy Punisher/Shadow and Bone crossover AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

The mutual staring contest went on between the three of you for some moments longer.

Then the one in the suit (character name - Billy Russo) cleared his throat and said, “Uh… hi.” He held his hands up, palms out, as if trying to calm you down although you hadn’t even uttered a sound.

“Don’t start screaming or nothin’, we’re not gonna hurt you.” “Speak for yourself,” muttered the other one, eyes still drinking in every inch of you. Billy shot him a dirty look, before turning back to you, “Now, sweetheart, I guess you’re wonderin’ why we’re here.”

Nodding, you felt as if you’d temporarily lost the ability to speak.

And you still weren’t quite sure if you were stoned or not.

“You are not the only one, moi krasivyy,” said the guy in black (character name - The Darkling or General Kirigan) managing to look you in the eyes for once, “we are wondering that too!”

“Ha! That’s rich, comin’ from you. This is all your mother’s fault!” snapped Billy. “OUR mother!” yelled the General. The two of them squared up to each other, glaring into each other’s identical eyes.

Oh this is ridiculous, you thought. You jumped up - praying your dizziness had gone - and clapped your hands loudly once. Their heads turned towards you immediately.

“Okay, that’s enough. Sit down please.”

To your surprise, they did as you asked. Side by side on your other sofa, looking up at you - they really were identical, hairstyles differing a little but apart from that - two peas in a pod.

“Here’s what I do know, although it isn’t much. I was watching two TV series tonight, and you are in one of them and you’re in the other,” you pointed at each of them in turn, “..you are Billy Russo and you are The Darkling. Well, that was in the book, you’re called General Kirigan in the TV series. And now you’re both here. In my flat.” You’d noticed Billy eye-rolling as you were speaking, and now he snorted, turning to the General, “The Darkling? What kind of fucking stupid-ass name is that?!”

The General jumped up off the sofa and so did Billy, and they were back to staring each other out, nose to nose.

You sighed, and folded your arms across your chest. That’s when you remembered you really were too scantily clad to be standing in front of two strangers like this, so without a word you stalked off into your bedroom to get your dressing gown. Putting one arm into a sleeve and pulling it round your shoulders to pull the other sleeve on, you turned to leave and found the two of them standing in the doorway, watching while you were putting on your robe.

“Out!” you shooed them in front of you, and they reluctantly walked back down the short hallway and into your living room. You waved them back onto the sofa, tying your robe, and they both sat down again.

“Now, where were we? Oh yes. How on earth did two TV characters end up in my flat? And why do you look like each other - I thought the two characters were played by the same actor. But there are two of you!”

They exchanged a glance, and Billy replied, “We’ve only just discovered that we’re twins. And I’ll tell you what we know but it won’t make sense. It doesn’t even make sense to us.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

About an hour later, the two of them were just staring at you again and you were staring back. You’d introduced yourself by now, filled them in on exactly where they’d arrived at, and made tea. They’d sat there on your sofa sipping from their cups, telling you their frankly unbelievable stories.

You’d listened patiently as they explained why they’d ended up in your living room, and when Billy had mentioned the part about his apartment being sealed so they couldn’t get out, you’d raced over to your front door. Heart sinking, you pulled uselessly at the door handle. It wouldn’t budge.

Sitting back down and giving a huge sigh, you sank back into the cushions and managed to calmly say, “You realise I still can’t get my head round this? You. Two. Are. Fictional. Characters! Do you understand? You’re not supposed to be real! But now it seems you are, and you’re sitting on my sofa!”

That’s when the staring had recommenced. Then Billy had simply said, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

You burst out laughing, and Billy grinned at you. The General looked annoyed and you heard him mutter, “He’s not that amusing.” Turning towards him, you said, “Now now, General, is that some sibling rivalry right there?” His dark eyes met yours, “Call me Aleksander. And no - we’ve not been ‘siblings’ long enough to feel any rivalry.” “Are you sure about that, Aleksander?” you asked.

Billy smirked at him, and Aleksander literally snarled, “He’s nothing compared to me!”

You sighed. You could guess what was going to happen next. Yes, there they go…..

They’d both leapt up and were doing their facing off thing, snarking and bitching at each other.

You did your hand-clapping thing and like good puppies they stopped and sat down, both still huffing though. “Billy,” you said, and he looked over at you, “Did you ask Baghra which Small Science you specialised in? Aleksander is a Shadow Summoner.” “The Shadow Summoner,” you heard Aleksander mutter, but you ignored him and carried on. “What is yours? You must be Grisha too, right?”

“Not necessarily!” Aleksander butted in, sulky look on his face, “he could be Otkazat'sya,” he looked over at you, “…that’s people without Grisha capabilities.” Billy glowered at him. “Was your father Grisha too?” you asked Aleksander. His face became stern and closed off, “Yes. A Heartrender. I don’t know anything else about him.”

Oh, you thought, think I touched a nerve there. “You said Baghra is a Shadow Summoner too, right? So is it not more likely that Billy would also have Grisha powers?” He sighed, admitting, “Yes, he probably does.” “I didn’t get a chance to ask,” said Billy, with a triumphant smirk aimed at Aleksander appearing on his face. You got the distinct feeling that he’d really wanted to stick his tongue out at his twin, but somehow he’d managed not to. Aleksander was glaring back at him, looking like he wanted to strangle Billy.

How long were these two going to be here? you silently thought. It was like you’d suddenly adopted two sulky teenage boys. Or two large toddlers. Either description would fit.

It was exhausting.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Earlier on, when their hostess had left them alone while she made tea, Aleksander had leant into Billy’s face and stated, “She is going to be mine. Just to make things crystal clear.” Billy had shaken his head, laughing, “Oh you think? Nah. She’s definitely going to go for me, given the choice.” “Ha! She needs a real man, not some…” he looked Billy over, “…pathetic idiot who dresses in suits. And as I haven’t had sex in decades, it’s only fair that I get the woman.”

Billy had been laughing out loud at this and was just about to reply when she’d returned with three cups of tea and some biscuits on a plate. She’d given them a strange look as she’d placed these on the coffee table, but Billy had quietened down almost immediately and both of them now had innocent smiles on their faces.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were yawning by now, informing them that you were going to bed and that they’d need to sleep on the two small sofas.

They’d exchanged glances, and Aleksander had smirked, “That’s a very big bed you’ve got in your room.” You nodded, stating firmly, “Yes, a king-size bed. It’s got a lot of space… and it’s all for me. I’ll get some blankets and pillows for you two.”

Noting their disappointed looks, you walked through to your bedroom and pulled some blankets out of the ottoman chest at the foot of your bed. You were in a bit of a temper. If they thought for one second that just because you were all stuck in here for however long you were going to open your legs for them, they would soon find out in a very painful manner that sex wasn’t on the menu. You weren’t dumb, you’d seen how the two of them - Aleksander in particular - had been looking at you like you were a snack.

Just as you were rummaging right down to the bottom of the ottoman for the spare pillows, you were suddenly aware of a figure next to you. You grabbed the pillows and stood up, scowling at Aleksander who was once again devouring you with his eyes. “I don’t need any help, thank you,” you snapped at him. However he moved even closer to you, “I was thinking more along the lines of you helping me, moi krasivyy.” “Moi what? What’s that mean?” you asked, sidetracked by curiosity getting the better of you. He grinned at you, “Moi krasivyy. It means ‘my beautiful one’. Because you are. Very beautiful.”

You suddenly heard Billy’s voice, “He’s just trying to talk himself into your bed.”

Aleksander whipped round, scowling at Billy. “Shut up!” he yelled at him.

“Ooh, touchy!”

“I meant every word I said. She is very beautiful!”

“Yes, of course she is, just like you said! But she doesn’t need you to tell her that.”

“Why shouldn’t I tell her she’s beautiful?”

“Because you’ve got a hidden agenda!”

“And you don’t?!”

“We both want to fuck her and you know it! You’re just being more obvious about it!”

They both froze as soon as those words came out of Billy’s mouth and their heads swung towards you, two sets of worried eyes meeting yours. You had your arms crossed again, and boy were you pissed.

“Firstly, I’m right here, you know. Standing right here listening to you argue about who’s going to fuck me.” They both looked somewhat ashamed. “Well, let me tell you…. that will be neither of you! The arrogance of the two of you! Not only do you land in my flat totally uninvited but you act as if I’ve been provided as your personal fucktoy. Not gonna happen! Have we got that clear?”

They both nodded, and you heard mumbled ‘Sorry’s’ as you stomped out past them to the living room. Both followed behind you, now silent. Dumping the blankets and pillows onto one of the sofas, you huffed a ‘Goodnight’ to them and returned to your room, firmly closing the door. Pity it didn’t lock, you thought.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was squirming about under his blanket, his long legs hanging off the edge of the too-short sofa. Across from him on the other sofa, Aleksander was doing exactly the same.

“This is your fault,” grumbled Aleksander, “…if you hadn’t inserted yourself into the conversation, I could’ve been sharing that lovely bed with that lovely woman.” “Dream on, jerk,” laughed Billy, “you don’t stand a chance.” “Of course I stand a chance! More than you do…. jerk!” replied Aleksander, adding, “Whatever that means.” “A jerk perfectly describes you…. a very annoyin’ stupid prick!” “It describes you perfectly too!” Voices rising, both getting ready to jump up yet again and really get into it. Which was rapidly becoming a thing with the twins.

“It perfectly describes both of you!” came a shout from behind the closed bedroom door. “Now just shut up and go to sleep!”

They exchanged guilty looks and settled uncomfortably back down on their respective sofas.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Emerging into the living room the next morning, you saw two dark heads peeking out from underneath their blankets and heard two sets of soft snores. Their feet were dangling off the ends of the sofas, and you momentarily felt sorry for them. Your furniture was not intended for six-foot males to sleep on.

Heading to your kitchen, you filled and switched on the kettle, then took a loaf of bread out of a cupboard and popped four slices into the toaster. Hmm… you didn’t have a huge amount of food in your fridge and cupboards. Before all… this had happened, you’d intended picking some more up today. How were you going to get more supplies? And what about your store! Everyone would wonder why it was closed. The store was only usually shut on Sundays, and today was Saturday.

This was a complete disaster. Sighing, you took out another two slices of bread to await toasting and as you closed up the wrapping, suddenly noticed that the loaf didn’t feel as if had got any smaller. You opened it up again and double-checked. You had previously only used a couple of slices, and no way was this loaf now 6 slices lighter, it was exactly the same as it had been. “Oh fuck off,” you muttered. What was this? Narnia? Alice in Fucking Wonderland? Oh well - maybe this meant you and your two ‘guests’ wouldn’t starve.

You jumped, startled, as you heard Billy’s voice behind you, “Somethin’ wrong, sweetheart?” He was leaning against the doorframe, wearing only a pair of tight black boxer briefs. Your jaw dropped as you took in this vision of masculine beauty. His smirk at you was totally self-satisfied, and you closed your mouth immediately. “Can’t you put some clothes on!” you snapped, and his grin got wider. “Only got my suit and it ain’t that comfortable for loungin’ around in.”

The toaster popped up at that point and you jumped again. “Am I makin’ you nervous, sweetheart?” he grinned. You turned away and took out the butter from the fridge. Placing the remaining two slices in the toaster, you began to spread the butter on the other 4 slices. “No, you are not,” you denied, looking defiantly at him, knowing it wasn’t true. The two of them were really hot guys, no denying that, but you absolutely couldn’t let them know that’s what you were thinking.

Aleksander now appeared behind him, likewise clad in just his underwear - black boxer shorts - and leant on the other side of the door, arms crossed on his chest. “You’re very kind, making tea for us,” he commented.

Oh good lord! your man-starved mind screeched, this is just too much first thing in the morning! Two male thirst traps, looking like they were currently shooting a Calvin Klein ad.

You hastily turned away and said, “Can one of you make yourself useful, please? Put three teabags into the teapot and fill it up with the hot water.” You hid a grin as they both tried to come into the kitchen at the same time and got jammed in the door. “Okay - Billy, you do it,” you said, “you’ve probably got more experience...” He chuckled, “Yes I have, angel. More than him, that’s for sure!” just as you added, “…of making tea.” Now it was Aleksander’s turn to laugh, “Yes… in tea-making only. Other people usually make my tea.”

“Now don’t you two start arguing again!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You brought the teapot, cups and plate of toast into the living room and put it down on the coffee table, noting that they’d folded up their blankets and piled them on top of their pillows on one of the sofas. Must be the military training, you thought. They were sitting on one of the sofas again, both still in their underwear. That was disturbing.

Now you were the one having to stop your eyes roaming over their bodies. Both of which happened to be lean, athletic and very nicely toned, commented your mind. Okay! Enough of that. Did you have any men’s clothes still lying around anywhere, you wondered? Quite possibly, and you decided you’d have a good look once you’d had your tea and toast.

Later on, you came out of your bedroom having found two pairs of grey tracksuit bottoms and a couple of black t-shirts, left behind by your previous boyfriend. You’d laundered them, intending to give them back to him but he’d moved out of the area so that never happened, and they’d lived in one of your drawers ever since. And just as well they had, you thought - I’ve got to get them into some clothes or else I won’t be responsible for my actions.

Handing them over, you remarked, “Hopefully these fit you.” Billy looked at them, nose wrinkling, “Whose are these?” “An ex of mine. Don’t worry! They’ve been washed.” They both stood up and pulled on the jogging bottoms, maybe a tiny bit short for them but not by too much. You smiled to yourself as you noticed one’s movements often mirrored the other’s. They really were twins in every way, although you were sure they’d argue with you on that point.

Both shook out the t-shirts and looked at the band logos on each. “Led Zeppelin?” queried Aleksander. “An old school rock band,” you replied. He looked none the wiser, shrugging but pulling the t-shirt on over his head nevertheless. “Queen!!?” howled Billy, “I’m not wearin’ that!” “Why not, Billy? I love Queen!” you said, offended. He glanced over at you, “Oh, do you? Well… alright then,” and on it went without further argument. The two of them stood there, looking each other over and arguing about which of them looked better in their new outfits.

This really is like getting the children ready for school, you smirked to yourself. Secretly you found it rather amusing that these two alpha males kept challenging each other. But it was just as well you were around to act as referee before they came to actual blows.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After having put the TV on for the ‘kids’, you began to gather the tea cups, tea pot and plates back onto the tray, fervently hoping that your dishwasher was still working. You noticed that in the few short moments they’d been sitting on the sofas, Aleksander’s eyes were beginning to close. You called his name softly and when he opened his eyes again, told him he could go and take a nap in your bed if he liked. His eyes sparkling, he was off the sofa and sprinting through to your bedroom before you’d properly finished your sentence. The bedroom door slammed.

Billy huffed, “You know he was just doing that ‘dozing off because I’m so tired’ thing just so he could sleep in your bed?” You picked up the tray, “Really? Now, don’t be jealous Billy, you can join him if you like.” Predictably, as you turned to head to the kitchen, you heard, “I’m not sharing a bed with him!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy followed on your heels into the kitchen, and you jumped as you put down the tray and realised he was so close behind you.

“Sorry,” he shrugged, “I just wanted to say - while my delightful twin is out of the way for once - that I’m really truly sorry about what I said last night. About… you know, you and me and him, and.. uhh.. well, you know.” “Yes, Billy, I do know. Apology accepted.” You took the lid off the teapot and turned back to the sink.

He continued, “I really do wanna fuck you but I shoulda told you that in private.”

The teapot lid clattered into the sink, “Billy! Do you have to be so… so direct!” you yelled, while he just stood there, looking down at you with those liquid dark chocolate eyes, trademark smirk on his face.

“We keep movin’ universes, sweetheart! -so carpe diem, as they say.”

He moved his body forwards, pushing you against the sink and a big hand was pulling your head towards his. You were still both maintaining eye contact up to this point; long fingers slid along your jawline and you felt his lips on yours in what quickly became a heated kiss. You saw his eyes close, and allowed yours to slowly close too.

This is such a bad idea!!!

….screeched that nagging little voice at the back of your mind.

But oh my lord, did it feel so very, very good…..

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@aleksanderwh0r3 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @s1xthirty @tartiflvtte @slythvoid @edithsvoice @paracosmenthusiast

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[bubblegumbeech]

The Librarian’s Trick

Day one Ectoberhaunt: Trick or Treat

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34213519

 1:

 Wes was certain this Cassius guy was a ghost. He had to be. Humans didn’t live on the outskirts of town in large decrepit clock towers that Wes was      pretty sure didn’t exist last week    .

 Humans didn’t have red eyes and white hair (unless they had a condition called Albinoism, Wes had looked it up. But Albinoism      also     meant they had no melanin      anywhere    and Cassius Dark was decidedly tan in an admittedly attractive but decidedly not Albino kind of way)

 Humans didn’t have fangs when they smiled but normal teeth whenever Wes tried to point out that      He had FANGS. They were right there!!!  

 Humans didn’t spend all their time either with Danny Fenton (who was Also very much a ghost!! Which should be in the list of proof but no one believes it so it’s seperate but still!) or mysteriously absent.

 And humans didn’t seem to know everything all the time but talk like a bad astrology website.

 So Wes was going to find a way to prove it.

 His first try had him sneaking a “ghost translator” he didn’t remember the stupid name Fenton’s dad called it when he bought it with his allowance, into the library where Cassius Dark supposedly worked.

 Supposedly, because while he could be found there, Wes had never actually seen him doing anything other than reading. And it was never a book Wes recognized, like, he wasn’t reading the Twilight series or anything. The last book Wes saw had been a large ancient looking tome written in a language Wes didn’t recognize. But Everytime he tried (subtly! He was super nonchalant about it!) to take a picture it ended up blurry!! And No Kyle, it wasn’t because he was      bad at taking photos    .

 But that didn’t matter because Wes had a different plan now. He was going to use the Fentons’ new version of their “ghost translator” thing, and see what happened. It was supposed to be both a translator and a truth decoder at the same time. So no matter what a ghost said, the device should say what they actually mean. Or something.

 With Danny, a bunch of innocuous stuff went off around him, but people always hand waved it as faulty tech. Wes wasn’t sure that was the case, in fact he was positive it wasn’t. But if he could get something useful to build up from, that would be a good start. And every good reporter needed a start.

 He stepped up to the Library’s front desk, where Cassius was sitting reading what was      clearly     a spell tome if the different summoning pentagrams in the open page Wes could see were anything to go by.

 “Welcome Young Weston,” Cassius said, the hint of a smile hidden behind his red eyes as he closed his book. Wes could swear they were glowing slightly. Geez did this guy get his ‘how to pretend to be human’ classes from      Fenton    ?

 … that would certainly explain why no one ever believed Wes, since that was a long beaten dead horse in his closet.

 He, very discreetly, had the device hooked up to one of his earphones, which he kept in one of his ears like any normal less than perfectly mannered teenager as he asked Cassius Dark his questions.

 “Excuse me sir? Do you work here?” he started with, it was a more or less innocuous question and one he actually wanted the answer to.

 Cassius Dark smiled. “I do.”

 My Job is all that was, is, and shall be. That which I set as my goal is beyond mortal comprehension and those I call master shall fall to my machinations. But yes, I get paid for sitting at this desk and answering questions sometimes. I am a ghost, fear me.

 Wes tried not to sweat too obviously. What the fuck?

 “Can you tell me where the journalism section is?” Wes decided to make a tactical retreat, at least his voice didn’t crack.

 “Straight back for eight shelves and then turn right. It’s next to the Non-fiction books.”

 I know what you’re looking for, I know why you are here. I know the exact time of your death and what will happen next. Your efforts amuse me though. I am a ghost, fear me.

 What Wes did next was not      exactly     fleeing. But it wasn’t      not     fleeing either.

 He’d have to try something else.

 2:

 The next thing he wanted to try was a bit riskier. If you thought about it a certain way. But it also wasn’t if you thought about it the way Wes did.

 He was going to use a phase-proof net.

 Genius, because unlike the translator machine thing, it would actually stop the ghost from attacking Wes if it got angered. Which it would, probably, since Wes was throwing a net at it.

 The plan was really simple though, he’d gotten a very large net, paid extra for the little aim thing, practiced half a billion times of his brothers before they went to the parents and got him grounded for a week, and then memorized the path Cassius Dark took in the mornings to go to his “job” at the library.

 Right now he was hiding in one of the leafier trees, right above the path that Cassius always used, waiting.

 And waiting.

 And…      waiting.  

 Honestly he was about to go home and was fairly certain this guy was going to be like, super late to work, when he finally appeared.

 Wes wasted no time aiming, making sure the trajectory was absolutely perfect, and firing the net off. He was just about to jump in celebration, watching the net as it curled slightly around its target, but before it could hit and wrap around him, Cassius was suddenly not there.

 Or he was, but just a little bit to the left, so that the net sailed harmlessly past.

 Wes cursed.

 3:

 The third one was fool proof. It had to be.

 Which was why Wes was staring at a large conspiracy board, covered in paparazzi-esque shots of the librarian and random notes he’d taken, all connected with a dizzying amount of red string.

 “Kyle, seriously. I need to figure out what kind of ghost he is or he’s always going to have the upper hand!!”

 Kyle just rolled his eyes and continued playing his video game, as if he didn’t care that Wes had set up his very important planning and plotting in the middle of the living room so long as it didn’t interfere with his own plans.

 “It has to be pretty powerful, he was able to dodge my net before it even touched him. And the translator thing clearly said ‘my goal is beyond comprehension’ or something,” Wes mused, “and he also said his job was like, everything?”

 Wes checked his notes, “yeah, ‘all that is was and shall be’. What could he mean by that?”

 His very annoying and clearly not taking this as seriously as he should brother just chuckled. “I don’t know Wes, maybe he can see the future?”

 That… no. That’s way too OP. Just the thought of it sent a shiver down Wes’ spine. There was no way a ghost could see the future right?

 Right?

 He had to test this theory.

 But how do you even test something like that?

 “Kyle, how would you test if someone could see the future?”

 “Throw something at the back of their head and see if they dodge?” He answered way too quickly.

 Wes thought about it for a moment. “No, what if they just have really good reflexes?”

 “Oh huh, I guess that could be true. No idea then.” He shrugged and Wes had to fight the urge to throw something at the back of      his    head.

 Whatever. He had to make plans.

 He’d tried just throwing things. It was risky, and kind of terrifying, but Kyle was right it      was     the first that came to mind.

 But Cassius never dodged. He was always just, not where Wes thought he was. Or Wes had      really bad aim,    which he didn’t!!! He was a basketball ace!! He had great aim! And great situational awareness!!

 So why couldn’t he hit Cassius Dark?

 Obviously it was because he could see the future. And the smug smile he always had when he knew Wes was looking reminded him an awful lot of a certain other Phantom.

 4:

 Ask him about his family.

 Easy enough. Especially without the Fenton’s weird translator because that might have been a bit terrifying. And also this time he had back up.

 He dragged Kyle by his sleeve into the library.

 “Mr. Cassius!”

 Cassius looked up from his book, removing the delicate reading glasses balanced on his nose. “Can I help you Mr. Weston?”

 “Yes!” He smiled broadly, taking out a small notebook that he had used to take notes on the suspicious and ghoulish things going on around town until it was mostly shreds of paper. “I’m writing an OP ED on the town library, and would like to know more about the librarian. Can you answer a few personal questions?”

 Kyle snorted and Wes had to elbow him in the side to get him to shut up. He was here as back up, not to ruin his plan.

 “So,” he began, “is Cassius a family name?”

 “No.”

 Wes nodded. And then frowned. Did ghosts have families? Supposedly they were alive once right? At least that was the general idea, Wes thought.

 “So what can you tell us about your parents? Like, what’s your father’s name?”

 Cassius raised an eyebrow, and had a soft smile filled with good humor. Wes felt it hit him like a threat. What was this ghost hiding?

 Well, other than the fact that he’s a ghost.

 “I can’t tell you much I’m afraid. My mother is long gone and I never had a father.”

 Kyle grimaced and elbowed Wes himself before saying, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

 “It’s no matter,” Cassius replied, still smiling, “I may yet see her again.”

 Ah, so either she wasn’t dead or he’s convinced she became a ghost too. That made sense. It could be his unfinished business as they say among the paranormal hunters. At least, the not fight-y and crazy ones.

 “So Dark was your mother’s name?” Wes asked, wondering if he could maybe find any records on her where he had failed to find them on Cassius himself.

 The smile slid right off his face. Wes and Kyle both felt the subtle chill in the air as Cassius leaned back and looked off to the side, as if to glare at something that wasn’t there. “No, I’m afraid Dark is my ex-husband’s name.”

 “Why keep it?” Kyle asked, completely ignoring the danger of the situation.

 The smile came back, except this time instead of soft and barely there as if he were indulging a child, it was sharp and twisted. He chuckled at an inside joke no one else in the room would ever understand and then he said, “Well, it’s not like      he     has any use for it now.”

 Wes paled. Had he killed his husband?!

 5:

 After a hasty retreat from the library Wes treated Kyle to a milkshake and fries at the nasty burger just as he had promised. Payment for going along with his ‘weird ghost theories’.

 But Wes couldn’t eat, he was too busy thinking. This one actually helped! He found information about the ghost’s previous life! He had a mother, but not a father, and had a husband.

 With the current politics it was one of two options. Either he was from a previous culture that allowed men to marry each other, or he was a more recent ghost than Wes had been expecting. He had already taken out his laptop and was scrolling through obituaries with the surname Dark, trying to think if he knew any off the top of his head that might have been in town when they died.

 Nothing particular came to mind.

 Wes’ thinking was interrupted by a loud, obnoxious slurping noise from his brother. He shot him a glare, but Kyle didn’t react. Wasn’t even looking at him. Instead he was looking out the window and watching one of the daily ghost attacks with Phantom playing hero as always.

 “You know, it’s kinda cool that they’re hiring actors to build the town’s lore like that,” he said, clearly ignoring the obvious evidence of ghosts right outside his window.

 “What the      hell     are you talking about?” Wes groaned, rubbing at his eyes. He needed coffee or something, it was a shame the Nasty Burger only served sludge no sane person would drink.

 Kyle finally looked away from the window, his eyes wide as if      he     was the one confused. “You know, how they got the librarian to say he was married to Pariah Dark? And then imply he’s the reason he’s a ghost?”

 Wes felt like the seat underneath him had suddenly disappeared. “Where did you get      That    from?!”

 “He said his ex-husband was named Dark! Pariah Dark’s Ghost Zone show is the first thing that comes to mind!” Kyle argued back. “Isn’t it?”

 Holy shit this guy was married to the ghost king.

 He thought back to the ominous answers he’d gotten that first day from the Fentons’ translator. Maybe he should leave this one alone.

 +1

 Wes was at the library, studying quietly and absolutely avoiding the librarian. Not that he’d seen him today, but it didn’t hurt to keep his head down. With any luck the guy had a short memory and would forget Wes had been trying to find a way to out him to the town.

 A portal ripped from the air in front of him, sending a static energy throughout the library and causing Wes’ hair to stand on end. It was a swirling purple, deeper and more… well      more     than most of the natural portals that Wes had seen appear around town.

 He wanted to scream, but years of living in Amity Park had fully trained that out of him. Screaming was the number one way to get a ghost locked on you as their first target. Especially if you were there when the portal opened.

 Before Wes could even think to duck under the table he was using a figure stepped out of the portal, poised and composed. He had a deep purple hood that seemed to swirl with the fabric of galaxies and a large ornate clock embedded into his chest. His skin was a rich blue and he had glowing red eyes.

 Wes recognized him immediately.

 “Oh, hello Mr. Weston, is there something I can help you with?” Cassius Dark asked.

[andyfire122]

Fictober day 24: Is this supposed to impress me?

Original fiction An Eternal conflict one-shot.

Alyssa sighed at the scene in front of her. A group of men had been following her for a few blocks at this point. None of them seemed to notice she was aware of them, so she made a point to make them work for their goal.

Wonder what they blame me for this time? One looks like they have money.

She turns to point right at them so they would follow her to the back ally of her building. They nearly scrambled when she spotted them before making their movie. As expected, as soon as they weren't in public view they began to surround her.

The detective looked around at how they responded. Most of them pulled out iron pipes, but most were just trying to be intimidating. It was an almost impressive effort for one woman. She took a glance at one of the windows as the landlord was starting to be alerted to the situation.

“So, should I guess what I did this time?” She asked as one of the group started to step forward.

It was the one who looked like he came from money. He was holding an iron pipe but other than that, he wasn't anything impressive.

“I was expelled thanks to you and that other runt of yours.”

No wonder he looks so scrawny. He paid a bunch of people for a simple temper tantrum.

She laughed as she turned to the other men. “So you all agreed to this just to make the entitled teenager feel better. He must have paid you all very well.”

“Yeah, but most people around can agree we just don’t like you.”

A lot of them had a familiar look to them. It looks like the only group the teenager could get for this was all men from previous cases she handled. The ironic part was they were from infidelity cases. As she smiled, the light from the top window was on.

The old man is smarter than this lot. Well...I wanted to take a few days off anyway.

As they all started to approach, Alyssa calmly took off her trench coat. The rich teenager looked confused. Most people in this situation would yell for help or run away. Here she was ready and waiting.

“What do you think you're doing?! You are not going to escape this just because you are a woman." He pounded the iron pipe to make some noise.

She grinned. “Is this supposed to impress me? You all made it very clear what you want to do. I just don’t want to ruin a perfectly good trench coat.”

His face turned red with anger as he swung down right towards her head. She swiftly dodged and swiftly kicked him on his backside. The rest of them tried to make their attempts before a voice rang out from above.

“Finish this up! Some of us need to sleep!"

She glared as her landlord was there with his window open. He was annoyed but otherwise unaffected by the situation. That just made the rest of the group nervous. Like the old man knew something that they all didn't.

“Quit complaining! This shouldn’t take long anyway.”

000000

As the rest of them started to run away, she nearly stumbled to get back into the building. As expected, she didn’t exactly walk away from it all completely unscathed. A few got some hits in with their pipes, but nothing that had lasting damage.

Here I figured I would at least have a minor concussion. I expected too much from a group of thugs.

As she reached her door, her landlord stopped her. He looked tired as he passed a towel. “Don’t leak on the floor next time.” He pointed directly at her bleeding head.

She may have escaped major injuries, but head injuries did tend to bleed a lot. That entire group seemed to have the idea to keep aiming to hit her head. It was the main reason they were so predictable.

She just waved it off. “Completely my fault. The trash was being a handful.”

[hideawayintheimaginationworld]

Um... is it okay if I ask for a short story on how Matt and Spring Jr met Lefty? :\/\/

Matt couldn’t tell what was and wasn’t real anymore. According to the doctor who took care of him at the hospital, he had some sort of severe mental breakdown, that led to the stupid idea that a parasite was living inside him and he had to get it out by cutting himself open.

He did wonder how the hell he got to the hospital, as he remembered that gross little thing looking at him, then everything went dark—

No. No. The doctor said it wasn’t real.

He did also recommend therapy.

Like anything was wrong with him.

The more and more he did think about it, the more and more it seemed to be a nightmare. A bizarre nightmare, one induced by a form of stress, maybe anger psychosis, that was what the hospital psychologist said.

The only reminder was the scar.

The scar was itchy again, Matt had to resist the urge to scratch it like a mad animal, as it was both still sensitive and healing.

He hated looking at it, it reminded him of the thing. It wasn't neat either, in some spots it was darker and more jagged. He wore anything to cover it, baggy shirts usually fixed not having to look at it too long, he tried not to touch it at all.

Another negative? His job put him on leave.

Without pay.

The nerve.

Matt completely erased Springtrap, not wanting to work on the game anymore, he hoped there was another game he could work on at some point but most people hadn’t hired him onboard.

It was just a bad dream, he reminded himself, he popped two pills of a pain reliever in his mouth, not caring that he already had two before, and went outside for the first time in two weeks.

The only thing he wanted was alcohol.

It was the only thing that let him sleep now.

He had to drink himself into a comatose state to get any sleep that wasn’t disturbed.

Meaning he often woke up feeling gross.

He hadn’t seen Jason in a few days, considering how he did help, getting some groceries then left in the beginning, saying he needed to take it easy.

Like he could.

Life wasn’t easy.

He was picking out exactly what he needed and went to the checkout to pay.

“Daddy!!”

That couldn’t be.

No. No. He reasoned, it has to be some other disgusting brat calling for their father.

He was just on edge for no good reason.

He left the store, walking back to his apartment, he kept drifting into flashbacks of everything, it seemed too painful and real to be a dream.

But it couldn’t have been real.

“Excuse me?”

He would just figure out what the hell to do next.

“Excuse me!!”

Matt realised he was being addressed, he turned and saw a red-haired man with very pale skin, something that was strange was the golden eyes he had, they were almost the colour of a setting sun, entrancing in a way. Standing next to him was a teenaged boy, with messy blonde hair and green eyes, the boy stared at him looking kind of annoyed almost. They had been in the same supermarket Matt was just in, as they had shopping bags, the guy even had a backpack strapped to his back.

“Did you drop your wallet?” The man asked him.

“No I didn’t,” Matt curtly answered, hating this guy was stopping from getting home.

“Are you sure you didn’t drop it? I found a black wallet and I think it's yours,” the man was showing him a wallet that looked like his.

Matt reached to his pocket.

Fuck.

It was his wallet.

“Turns out it is, I'll take that,” Matt took it from the man, immediately opening it to check for any lost money.

“Fucking rude.”

Matt was completely taken off guard by the comment.

“What??”

“You're fucking rude,” The man repeated, “Didn't even thank me, I could have stolen your wallet you ungrateful prick.”

“Let it go, walk away...” The teenager grabbed his arm, trying to pull him away. Matt guessed that teen was his son, but they didn’t seem to share any characteristics, aside from both of them being lanky.

“I feel sorry for the people in your life, I've only known you for two minutes and I already hate you, imagine being your mother or some shit, she'd be ashamed of you, asshole,” The guy turned and walked away, the teenager followed him.

Matt huffed, how dare he.

“Daddy!!”

Again? Seriously??

“What is it?”

“Daddy! Daddy!!”

He had the awful realisation that wasn’t his imagination.

He saw the guy and teenager running back to him, Matt suddenly felt like he needed to run, so he did.

Unfortunately, the guy caught up to him quickly, grabbing his shirt collar and stopping him dead in his tracks.

“Shit! Look, I'm sorry if you feel like I was rude.”

“Hey Alec, look it was fauxpology, sound familiar?” The guy asked.

“Yep.”

“Alright, let's see what the rabbit says... I might have found you.”

Found??

“Let me go!!”

“Daddy!”

“You need to come with me.”

“No I don’t,” Matt struggled to pull away.

“Oh yes, you do...” The guy spun him to face him and pressed his hand against his temple.

“Sleep.”

Matt suddenly felt heavy in his legs, drowsy like he was pulling from reality.

Then everything went dark.

“Jesus you didn’t have to put the guy to sleep...”

“I felt like I had no choice...”

“So what are you going to do?”

“The same thing as anyone, I will offer help.”

Matt finally could open his eyes, he was looking at a white ceiling, he wondered if he was in the hospital again and the thought disgusted him.

He looked to the side and saw a blurry black shape, he blinked and it cleared.

“But he talked to you rudely honestly.”

“Well if my theory is correct... he's been through a really awful experience...”

“Lefty, picking up the broken souls everywhere.”

“Hello, Matthew, back with the living are you?”

Matt froze, the black shape turned around and he saw a very familiar golden eye staring at him.

“We need to talk about your son.”

“I don’t have a kid.”

“Explain this,” Matt realised it was like a bear, but a robot, an animatronic, like Springtrap, but he wasn’t so decayed, like he was modern and more aimed at kids, the animatronic turned around and turned back with a familiar sight.

“Hello, Daddy!”

Matt screamed, wanting to get away. Lefty had the little bunny.

The bunny that crawled out of his body, the dirty green fur and the big silver eyes, was looking at him.

“Explain why I found little Spring wandering around the street ten days ago with no adult supervision, covered in dirt, blood and some other strange fluid I couldn’t figure out... But I figured it out!!” The animatronic nodded.

Matt looked horrified, the way it moved was so lifelike like it was a person in the suit.

“The fluid was mucus... disgusting... but I've figured it out, you somehow... got a parasite... and you share DNA in some way.”

“Nah, he was pregnant.”

Matt heard a chorus of laughter.

“That's why you wear protection.”

“Don't have sex, because you will get pregnant and die.”

“Don’t make fun of him kids,” Lefty placed down the little rabbit.

“Lefty don’t bullshit, the dude was pregnant.”

Matt grumbled, but they had appeared to stop laughing for the most part.

“That's impossible, he's a male, but this is Fazbear Entertainment... that pretty much explains everything and anything... the same brand range that offers getting your body hijacked, losing your body parts, death robots on demand, doll alarm clocks and a mention for the dolls that like crawling in your mouth.”

“You're laughing at me,” Matt sneered.

“Oh, um, no, I believe you, I've dealt with these things before!” The robot answered, “Spring Jr is the less hostile... but you... no one would probably believe you, you most likely believed this was a dream... Spring recognised you somehow...”

“You brought it in public??” Matt asked, he'd be ashamed to have that thing around, and this animatronic seem to adopt him, “Who are you anyway??”

“He was in my backpack, as was another robot called Helpy, they were helping me shop... now my name is Lefty, Matthew.”

“How... how do you know my name?”

“Your wallet. Drivers License,” Lefty answered.

“Where am I?”

“This is my house.”

“Bullshit.”

“No it is, the kids will tell you.”

Matt looked around, he was laying on a sofa, he then saw different kids, he could see the teenager with blonde hair, but he also saw a teenager with brown hair with a strange dog sitting next to him, another teen with dark skin and a thick black hair, and two teenaged girls, one with black straight hair and the other more chubby... and missing an arm by the looks of it.

“They look like their mother’s probably...”

Everyone soured immediately.

“You're filthy,” Lefty said, “Did adoption ever come into your stupid head?” He gave him a knock on his head, “Is anyone awake in there??”

Before he had any time to recover, Lefty grabbed his shirt collar and held him up easily, looking at him with disgust, “Don’t you dare imply I do that, ever,” He dropped him down.

“Now... I'm offering you this... a form of therapy... technically Spring Jr is your kid. This is my offer, we can talk, you tell me how this happened, but you must take a part in fixing this, you didn’t just.... magically get pregnant—”

The kids were laughing again, this time they were almost howling, Matt growled, and he was ready to scream at the horrible teenagers, having a bad enough day, when Lefty looked at him with a demented face, his eyes were black and a sharp white pupil was glaring into his soul, making him shrink back and feel weak.

“You leave my kids alone, or I will make sure you never talk again.”

Lefty turned to them, “Kids, stop laughing for a minute... I understand it's amusing to you like a bad fan-fiction or whatever you call them... but Matt cut himself open to pull that thing out... it's trauma... while I wouldn’t normally...”

He turned back to Matt, “Conditions: You live here, you get help, understand?”

[miniwolfsbane]

JWCC Sammy Gutierrez and body positivity

THIS IS VERY LONG! (I just have a lot of feelings!) Also, this is personal and doesn’t talk a lot about Sammy and is just one big rant. 

Comment I wrote on the S2 preview “Also, shout out to the creators for making Sammy heavy, but it not effecting or having anything to do with her character. OR have her be obsessed with food. I'm sure other 90s kids remember the fat kid trope. Not doing fat logic, but we've come so far from the old days! As a woman who had that kind of body type growing up (had skinny friends, developed early, etc. it all was uncomfortable for many reasons. Long story.), it's amazing to see this kind of...semi-body positivity that's quiet and unspoken in a show aimed at everyone, including girls.  If I had seen this character at 13, my mind would've been blown. Kudos!!”

I’m reeeally tired and getting to that point where I get emotional about stupid stuff. However, this isn’t that stupid...maybe? 

We’ve reached a milestone, a kind of apex in American society, where being fat is no longer a running gag and it’s celebrated to be thick and/or a healthy weight. (Not to say skinny isn’t cool and it’s sure as heck better than carry 90+ pounds if it can be helped, but, as I said on Youtube, lots of 90s fat tropes were had, were they not? Every body type has their problems, blessings, and issues.) But, health is also a big issue and losing weight is too. I’m all for losing weight, but I also know what it was like growing up a fat kid, then a fat teenager in the 90s and 2000s when we didn’t have representation and people like Tocorra Jones, Melissa McCarthy,  Ashley Graham and Rebel Wilson around to promote different body shapes and/or being a little heavy or curvy while still being healthy. (Melissa and Rebel have lost weight and I applaud them full circle!)

Anyway, It is downright uplifting to see Sammy in JWCC like this! Being “thicker” than her two female friends doesn’t slow her down or hinder her in anyway. She is not obsessed with food. She is not constantly eating. Likewise, she has an actual personality and an interesting secret and backstory. The fans seem to love her. She is not dressed immodestly and she doesn’t seem to have ANY negative opinions of her body type, for now. Likewise, in a fast paced show like this, no one is talking behind her back about her weight or eating habits (again, for now. This could change in upcoming seasons, we don’t know.) Come to that, she’s fairly intelligent and isn’t dumb. Like, how many times have we seen a fat, dumb person in a show. (I’m looking at you Chris Griffin and Cleveland Jr!) This could’ve gone SO SIDEWAYS in her character creation any number of ways and I’m just amazed it didn’t. However, this maybe is attributed to the show being an action show and not a comedy? In any case, I’m so glad girls of this generation can see it. I wish I’d had it at their age. (It’s probably because her VA is heavy, but heavier than how Sammy is portrayed, to my knowledge. I’ve only seen her years ago on Disney channel.  Who cares why? It happened and I’m glad.) Please be assured, I’m NOT trying promote fat acceptance, just inclusivity, relatability, and representation. 

Like I say all the time, I’m not super heavy. I never was. As I said in the comment, I developed early and had mostly skinny friends growing up. I remember being about 11 and hosting my first sleepover and someone pointing to my arms at my stretch marks, asking what they were. I wasn’t traumatized and they didn’t tease me, but I was a little (a lot?) self-conscious. Like, can we please get the idea out of our head that ONLY pregnant women get stretch marks?? (Cocoa butter companies, hello?!) They can happen to girls that grow tall fast or, like me, you can have them all freaking over because the puberty button in your brain got stuck. (LOL?) And calling them cute things like skin lightning doesn’t really help. My limbs and body still look weird.

I don’t remember seeing many characters shaped like me in shows as a kid or teenager.  Unless maybe Simpsons characters with their pudgy bellies who may be some of the most average, realistic bodies in all of fiction, really. We can’t all be supermodels and body builders. Sailor Moon girls were all thin and leggy. None of the Magic School Bus kids were pudgy, all average and healthy (which is probably a good thing in a way. IDK. Representation is great, but so is promoting healthy eating and healthy shapes. Everything has their place.)  Disney characters were mostly animals at the time, and I didn’t see Recess until Highschool or something at 3 am, and even then, there was only Mikey. Mikey was progressive, but he wasn’t female. Closest I got was Ariel’s (Little Mermaid) sister, Adella ( https://littlemermaid.fandom.com/wiki/Adella) and even then, she had no belly and never animated the same outside of the series with not much character development or anything.

Cassie from Animorphs might’ve been a close second, but, though she was my favorite female character as a kid (not anymore), it was hard to say “OMG, she’s shaped like me!” as it was a book series with few visual aides outside of covers, posters and some toys. 

I remember seeing the singing group Cherish for a few seconds on TV once. A bunch of thick, busty, heavy black girls and I was SO EXCITED because for those few seconds on TV, there were girls that looked like me! Then some years later I found out a few of them lost weight and I was like bleh. (I didn’t follow their music or anything, not even sure how I saw them again.) Not that disapprove, health is essential, and I encourage people to lose weight for themselves, but it was nice having some representation. Except health needs to come first. It’s a two-edged sword if I ever saw one.

Don’t get me started on the sheer amount of girls with small/flat chests on TV. (No offense! See above about body types. Again, it’s about representation and seeing someone that looks like you that was not common in the 90s and early 2000s) I’m picky though. I wanted to see more representation, but the minute I saw it, I was not impressed or annoyed. To my better judgement, I saw a few episodes of something I won’t name with a curvy lead. I found her times dressing up as a man unconvincing and confusing because of her body shape. Other times I was, for lack of a better word, slightly appalled at her own size, even though she somewhat looked like me. I know, it makes no sense. Other times, I was mad at Lizzy Mcguire or another show for having skinny characters with A-cups while I was, er, way past training bras and smaller bras by 14/15 when the show was new.

Swearz, I developed (pun not intended!) this weird conspiracy theory that Disney execs have to look at the Star’s mom and other women in their family before casting a girl to make sure she stays thin/average chested for the shows entire run. Outside of one show, all shows in that era had the same thin girl body type. (And not much representation for different races for Disney back then, but that’s another debate for someone to better handle, not me.) 

All that said, my shape was attributed to four things: Diet, genetics, lack of exercise and my mom’s cooking. Not sure how much I subscribe to the “genetics effect body fat theory”, but the “genetics effect body shape” is definitely a thing! And hormones in chicken. My family said all I ever wanted when I was little was McDonald’s chicken nuggets all the time, so I think that had some play in how I turned out. It’s probably too much to get into here, and no one cares about my sob story, so let’s move on.

Sammy is awesome and I hope to see more characters like her from other studios in the future. Every body type needs representation, but every body also deserves to be healthy and nourished.

EDIT: WARNING: THE VIDEO AND  THE FOLLOWING PARAGRAPHS TALK ABOUT ED AND CALORIE RESTRICTION!!

OMAHGAWWWD! I KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING ROTTEN IN THE INDUSTRY, Y’ALL!! (Okay, that’s obvious, but you don’t really give it thought in your day to day life.)

The video gives a summary of Jenette McCurdy’s time on iCarly and the horrors she’d been going through in her younger years, which included an eating disorder and restricting calories to an (alleged) 900. Dear lord, that is sickening.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCE1x_chT34

Granted, I would take this with a small grain of salt as it’s from the internet, and undoubtedly, many actresses, probably more than we realize, have ED’s. If they would start encouraging them to be at healthy weights, things like this wouldn’t happen. Frick Nickelodeon and frick the acting industry!! 

So, this was what I was trying to convey. Casting and producers need to find that middle ground. Don’t promote fact acceptance, but do not force your actors/actresses to be stick thin either.  I could go on a huge tangent, but I don’t have the brain power right now. If you have an ED or know someone that does, I strongly encourage you to get help. I’ve been in tight spots like that (I knew of people or knew people), but getting REAL help from a doctor, professional, or someone with a good head on their shoulders is better than hiding it or keeping it secret. Ten years down the line, you’ll be thankful you did and not have regret. No one is perfect, but sometimes you have to fight harder to find a solution and someone that will actually listen to you and take your concerns to heart. 

If I get negative comments, I’ll be deleting this and no one will be able to enjoy it. Think before you type and don’t be a jerk.

[floweryfreelance]

𝕴𝖓𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖆 𝕽𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖚𝖘

CHAPTER FOUR

Table of Contents

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |

This work of fiction is an original collaborative work between tumblr users @theearltrancy and @floweryfreelance. Its original format was in that of a roleplay, and has been edited to be a more cohesive story. This work was created on 11.10.20 and completed on 11.30.20.

Please consider following each author for more fictional works.

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Ciel made his way up the grand staircase in the center of the foyer, admiring paintings on the walls as he made his way down the hallway towards his own bedroom. As he walked, growing closer and closer to Alois’ old spare room, he heard voices. Ah, he must have been right. That cocky demon butler of his must be getting a stern talking to. He smirked.

Feeling too mature to stand with his ear against the door, Ciel simply slowed his walking pace, tuning his ear just in case he was able to pick up anything being said inside the room. And what he heard, well, it certainly didn’t sound pleasant.

Inside the room was Alois’ voice quickly reaching a louder and louder pitch. He once saved his anger for Hannah, but the roles had reversed now, the man’s now deeper voice rattling things in the room. He could feel himself getting too heated, but the demon couldn’t feel pain; he was keenly aware. 

“No, I don’t care, you absolute wretch!” He screamed, taking his own shoe from earlier and tossing it at the butler’s head. He dodged, the object smacking the wall behind him. “I will do things in my own time, do you understand? I will not be a pawn for your f*cking problems anymore! Not tonight, not ever!” 

Claude’s response was low and threatening, almost as if he were still disciplining a child. In fact, he seemed to think that’s exactly all he was doing. The dismissive attitude only angered him more. “Your Highness… If you do not have the drive to take that man from that wretched butler, you will only be stuck with me longer. It is beneficial for us both that you complete your contract, and that means you must take the boy.”

“For you! Always for you! I signed that contract thinking I would get something out of it! Maybe a companion, for god’s sake!” Alois screeched, knowing now he could be heard from outside of the room. “But all you’ve done is lie to and cheat me! I wanted you to take me!” 

“You know I cannot do that until you find a way to take him. Even if you isolate him, I can leave. I can make it a pleasurable experience for you.” 

“But that’s not what you really want, is it?” The man retorted, cooling into sass. “Get the hell out of here. And take your god damn attitude too. That’s an ORDER.” 

The door opened moments later, revealing an emotionless Claude if not slightly annoyed, and a simply vicious Alois with his arms crossed on his chest. The demon nodded at Ciel as if nothing had happened, but a peek in the room would show that was not the case. The blonde had been throwing all his things around, tearing his clothes from the closet onto the floor now, a flurry of a man. Though grown now, it was at times as if all he had grown was taller.

Ciel couldn’t mask his searing glare at the butler as he walked past, perhaps partially compensating for just how shaken he felt after hearing their words, particularly Claude’s. He really would give anything to just see him dead, wouldn’t he? As is the nature of such a contract.

Seeing Alois in this fragile state, knowing he hadn’t been noticed quite yet, he quietly stepped into the room, looking at the clothes on the floor. “..You’ve made a mess.” He noted, bending down to pick up a deep purple coat that had been crumpled on the floor. “Did you notice?” He inquired, looking up at the distressed blond man before him. “These clothes, they’re yours from all those years ago. I left them.” He inspected the sleeves. “I’m frankly surprised there aren’t more moth holes.”

In his experience, Ciel knew the best way to approach Alois during these fits of rage was calmly. In fact, his presence typically helped to calm him down regardless.It pained him to see him like this. In the past, he found his tantrums childish and annoying, but since growing to understand him, they just hurt to see. However, he always kept a slight distance until he could tell if he was still in the heat of the moment. And so, Ciel stood still, gently holding the small boy’s coat in his hand while looking at his love.

He took a step closer, standing so that his leg was just brushing Alois’ arm as he sat on the ground. He crouched beside him, still holding the purple coat. His mind wandered, trying to find the right words to say.

“..I.. lied earlier.” Ciel admitted, rubbing the coat fabric between his thumb and forefinger. “I didn’t leave this room untouched. I had it cleaned everyday.” It was embarrassing to admit, he felt, but he wanted to ground Alois. He wanted to remind him he was wanted and loved and desired. He could withstand feeling embarrassed for a minute or two. “The maid dusted everyday, changed the sheets once a week. And by the looks of it, kept your old clothes ironed. How she did all that everyday, I don’t know.”

He stood once again, looking around the room he hadn’t stepped foot into in eight long years. It truly looked as though it was in present use, not a speck of dust or a single stain anywhere to be found. Impressive, he thought to himself. “I remember sneaking in here.” Ciel couldn’t help but smile softly. “On the nights when you were too stubborn to come to my room, and waited here until I grew impatient enough to sneak into yours.” 

The thought brought a small smile to the man’s face, though he betrayed none of that information to the other. He did lift his head, though, taking a look around at the hell he had created. Though his anger had once again caused destruction, he couldn’t help but notice the man was correct - the room was dusted, polished, and comfortable. His old clothing was flawlessly ironed, and he remembered that before he’d been triggered, it was in fact all folded and hung just the way it was when he was a teen. He let some of the tension in his body go, taking one hand from his head to rest his arm on his knee. 

“We took turns.” He recalled, still breathing heavily but coming back to the room slowly, “I liked to play. You made it easy.” He looked his lover in the eyes. “We were so small.” The man sighed, looking away to the clothes on the floor surrounding him, noting he had also made a small dent in the wall behind them with his heel. 

Note to self. Aim better next time.

“We did play.” Ciel agreed, standing and walking to the wardrobe, hanging the purple coat back in the closet. The remaining clothes could be taken care of in the morning, as they were the least of his concerns. The white night clothes set out on the bed caught his eye, though upon closer inspection, he noticed there were two pairs. He smirked, that idiot, he thought, knowing Sebastian must have thought it would be amusing to prepare for what they all knew would happen.

Turning back to Alois, he held out his hand and leaned his cane against the wardrobe. “Here now, stand up. We don’t have our butlers to dress us,” he said sarcastically. “But we can’t sleep in our dinner attire.”

Smiling gently to himself now, Alois took another deep breath and stood up, dusting himself off. He bit his lip, planning his next move, for they were finally truly alone. The man took a good few solid steps towards the other until they were impossibly close. The sudden movement pressed his lover against the closed door of the closet, placing an arm on the other side so that the man couldn’t escape him. 

“I suppose we can’t.” He acknowledged, placing his free hand under the other’s chin. This being the first time since they were young teenagers, he added, “Hm, seems I’m still taller than you.” 

If there were any way he knew how to transition out of an intense emotion, it was straight through another one - lust. Even as an adult, he only had three modes - indifferent, violent, and reveling in sin. 

“So. Dress me.” He ordered.

The cool of the wood door against his back counteracted the heat filling his body. Eight years had passed since he was spoken to like this, touched like this. The Earl honestly thought he would never experience anything like it again, so long as he lived.

His heart pounded in the chamber of his chest, and he wondered if the other man could feel it too. His jaw shifted as he swallowed hard, feeling the warm fingers of his lover caressing his chin. Ciel melted for him, just like he always did. “Don’t order me around..” he protested, the tone of his voice eager and excited but attempting to hide behind a disguise of stubbornness.

Without taking his eyes off of him, Ciel cautiously reached up to Alois’ chest, grasping the buttons of his overcoat and beginning to undo them. His hands visibly shook and he cursed himself for it, it was as if it were the first time all over again. 

“And if I do?” He purred, holding control over himself while he leaned in to press a small kiss on Ciel’s earlobe. His whole body pulled closer, closing even more distance between the two. Leaving just enough space for the buttons to come undone, he leaned back once they were loose, shrugging the coat off to the floor along with his other things. The size difference was notable when the two coats were side by side, Alois now pushing 6′ tall himself. 

In response, he reached back out to his lover’s chest, pulling button after button open. The pale skin underneath caught the moonlight like a modern day Adonis. Just as Aphrodite had done long ago, he would sacrifice his sanity to spend only several nights a year with him if it came to it. Now there was definition to his chest - not quite muscle, but the man wasn’t soft either. Alois smiled mischievously, ducking in for a deep kiss on the lips with no hesitation. 

While the other was nervous and shaky, the taller man was confident and needy. He’d bided his time pretending that positions like this were with his fantasy to begin with. Now that it really was the one he imagined most nights, he’d waste no time. He’d push the subject and get his way - for once, just for once.

“Y..You..” A sad attempt at a protest. He was helpless at this point, as he always was when they played this game. Shuddered breaths escaped Ciel’s lips, his throat and hands and legs beginning to throb with the violent beating of his heart. Hardly even noticing his own buttons being undone, he couldn’t help but stare at the unfamiliar physique of his partner, still just as pale and soft and smelling of lavender, but larger. Of course, he was used to that aspect, as Alois had always had the advantage when it came to physical size. Another reminder they were men now.

A cool breeze crossed his chest as button after button was opened, and he trailed his fingertips down his lover’s abdomen, touching him as if he was still unsure if he was really there. His fingers kept moving until they reached a new texture, his eyes following. A scar. The scar. His thumb gently ran across it, memories of that awful night haunting his memory again.

A distraction. He wanted a distraction. This moment was too sweet to be ruined by those nightmares. Ciel’s hand darted back up Alois’ body, wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling him back in for a deeply passionate kiss, the feeling of his lips on his own bringing him back to the present moment.

Noticing his pause, Alois was pulled out of the moment for a split-second, eyes following the other’s to the raggedly-healed wound on his abdomen. Once upon a time, it nearly killed him. It took months to seal up to the point he would no longer vomit blood. Yet, it served as a reminder to tie the two together. The man had made peace with it, never answering Jean honestly when he asked about it. A fight with a carriage, maybe he’d fallen, sometimes he changed his lie to keep it fresh in his mind. Little did he know about the beautifully composed violent blue boy in London. 

Though the thought didn’t last long until he was to be wrapped in another kiss. The two lost themselves in the texture of the other’s lips, the newfound fullness and softness. For a moment, the blonde forgot that for the other, it had been years since he felt this much passion, for he knew his lover would only accept a partner that could destroy him and build him back up in one night; a challenging love. The night allowed for this kind of depraved waltz. 

Shrugging off his own shirt, he pulled off the necktie he’d chosen for that day, pulling it behind Ciel’s neck and quickly grabbing it tight - cutting off breath for a split-second. The gasp for air would last long enough to make the other slightly dizzy, almost a drunk sort of feeling. While Ciel had been saving himself for marriage, Alois had been learning new tricks in Paris.

His breath caught in his throat as his neck was pulled forward slightly, his eyes widening at the unfamiliar and sudden sensation. He liked it. His hands grabbed tightly at his lover’s shoulders, his body’s initial reaction being to fight for air, until he relaxed and leaned into the lightheaded feeling. As the tightness of the tie around his neck loosened he gasped for breath, heat pooling in his lower stomach.

Ciel’s hand ran up the back of Alois’ neck, lightly entangling itself in the silky blond hair and tugging, all needy and wanting. It was during moments like these that Ciel was thankful there wasn’t a mirror nearby, as he’d never be able to forgive himself for how he looked now- desperate and weak, two traits he prided himself on seldom exhibiting. Meanwhile, his free hand worked its way down to the other’s trousers, his subconscious growing impatient.

A devilish smile crossed the man’s face, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he felt his lover’s hand stray from his chest. In reaction, the blonde grabbed the other by the hips, fingers hooking through the belt loops. Using this guide, he swung Ciel to the other side and walked him back to the bed in the center of the room. 

The soft silk accepted the two into its folds as Alois pressed him down into it, following on top in a straddle. Oh, how long it had been since he had looked down at the real version of this scene rather than the discount. It even made the space worth it somehow, made the taste sweeter. Reaching down to finish undoing all the remaining buttons on his lover’s chest, he took a second to trace the new body. He was certainly well-built, and knowing how many sweets the other indulged in, it made him wonder exactly where it came from. Of course, this matched his fantasy even more so and lit a fire within him.

“I’ve missed the real thing..” He whispered, leaning down to place a lengthy kiss on the other’s exposed collarbone. “You’re worth it.”

Ciel’s hands instinctively fell against the pillows on either side of his head as he laid back, his body remembering how many times he had been pinned down in this position to be toyed with by his lover. His chest rose and fell as he took shallow, nervous breaths, his spine arching ever so slightly as he felt the other’s lips against his collarbone.

This was bliss, it had to be. For eight years he spent every night alone, many of those nights sleepless as Alois’ face appeared behind his eyelids. And yet, here he was. Here they were, tangled in each other’s arms and peppering each other with kisses and nips, their bodies illuminated by a sliver of moonlight shining through the curtains. If he had ever wanted a painting of anything, it would be this.

A hand came up to cradle Alois’ head as he kissed his chest, his other hand sliding up his lover’s thigh eagerly and brushing his fingertips just underneath the hem of his trousers. Lifting Alois’ head so his eyes met his own, he tugged lightly on the fabric of his pants. “Off.”

“Hm,” Alois snickered quietly, smiling against the other’s skin. He’d forgotten all about the past few weeks, even the dent he’d just made in the wall. The man leaned back to stand and undid his belt, allowing the layer to fall to the floor. All that remained now was a pair of not-so-modest undergarments and his socks, illuminated by the moonlight. 

“Since you want to be so demanding,” He purred, leaning back in to speak right against the other’s neck. “You too, coward.” 

The two were as close to heaven as they could ever get. Living in sin left one with only so many options - sink to the bottom, or find a way out. Being that they’d already sold their souls, this love was to be their only glimpse of it. That it was; both were old enough to savor it as such, hardened by the world outside this room. Yet, they were still young enough to allow some recklessness into their doomed sorts of lives. Knowing this fact, Alois rolled off his lover, now sitting on the edge of the bed and gesturing. Up.

He would never admit it aloud, or maybe even to himself, but Alois was more than likely the only person who could order him around, and have it arouse him. His eyes watched intently as his partner continued to undress, noting the way his fingers methodically moved, the way his stomach and chest expanded with every breath; it was exhilarating.

Hearing the command, Ciel moved in carefully calculated movements, as if he could be pounced on at any moment. He stood up, dropping his unbuttoned shirt to the floor before moving onto his own trousers. Button by button, the fabric loosened before pooling around his ankles. He stepped out of them, his hands on Alois’ shoulders for balance. And there he stood, nearly naked and completely vulnerable for the first time in nearly a decade.

The bluenette moved as if leaning in for another kiss but hesitated, leaning away again. He reached behind his own head, grabbing the string of his eye patch between his thumb and forefingers, pulling until it loosened and fell to the floor. There, he thought, off.

Surprised by the sight of both eyes, the man’s eyes locked with the other’s. A soft sound of “oh, love…” escaped his lips, his hand moving up the side of Ciel’s skull to gently hold him there. He took a moment to gaze into both eyes, having all but forgotten he’d only ever seen the one. Even as teens, Ciel was always cautious about how much of himself he revealed even when completely alone. Though he knew the contract resided there, it never really dawned on him that he had never seen it. Recognizing how raw this moment was, the man leaned back until he was flat against the bed, other hand coming up to trace along his partner’s chest. 

It was only moments before he pulled him back in for a deep kiss, filled now with all the longing and pining of eight full years. For a moment, it crossed his mind that this man deserved better from him- he always had. He deserved all his raw moments, anger and joy, sickness and health, fear and confidence. Alois wished he could find a way to give that all to him. If only there were a way, Alois would risk it all. Maybe someday they could play dead and run away, have Sebastian kill Claude, write Lizzie a nice letter - something about market study in the States. 

At least they could sail away in these sheets for the night, he thought. Before he realized it, his hands had travelled to his lover’s waist, pulling them so close together that it would require something earth-shattering to pull them away. His mind was scattered, but his body fell into old patterns, finding it completely impossible not to touch the other. Suddenly, every moment he spent with his ex-lover felt like a paperback book that ended on a cliffhanger- so close to satisfying, but nothing compared to a happy ending.

Vulnerability was surprisingly becoming on Ciel; as someone who prided himself on being completely untouchable both emotionally and physically, he appeared most beautiful in this state, especially in the eyes of his lover. He rubbed his eye slightly, trying to regain the balanced sight of two eyes he had been lacking for a whole day. He wanted to see Alois clearly.

Pulled back in for a deep kiss, Ciel climbed forward, straddling the blond man underneath him with his arms wrapped underneath his neck, pulling them impossibly close. He hummed as their hips ground against one another, as he brought one hand around to lightly trace his thumb across Alois’ bottom lip.

“Let me see yours..” He whispered, his digit pulling down lightly on his lip and brushing against his bottom teeth. The other Earl’s contract seal was not new to him- he had seen it before a number of times, but he had nearly forgotten what it looked like now, the image just a fuzzy memory buried in his mind. This thing, this stupidly complicated thing, was one of the few things that they felt tied them together.

Smiling with his teeth, a rare sight in and of itself, the man was glad he could share this with someone. Jean knew nothing of his contract, making efforts to hide his contract from the lover of his. It was a deep secret once he left the city, one he planned to take to his grave after Claude gutted him for his soul. It was a secret he shared with the man in front of him and in a way, the shared tragedy made him feel like he could be all of himself without effort. 

He allowed his tongue to stick out of his mouth, the inactive pattern still visible despite its faded nature. It spoke to the strength of the bond he held with his demon, or lack thereof. Though it looked like a burn mark when it wasn’t on display, it was still visible. Alois searched his lover’s eyes for approval, insecurity bleeding through his expression.

Sensing his partner’s vulnerability his lips curled into some mixture of a smile and a smirk, enjoying the look on his face though trying to remain comforting. “Beautiful..” he whispered, fingers grasping Alois’ jaw to pull him into another kiss. This kiss was backed with more fire, all teeth and tongue as they savored the taste and texture of one another.

The fire in his belly growing hotter, he found himself subconsciously rocking his hips against the other’s, searching desperately for some sort of friction to release the knot he felt forming deep inside him. His neediness was showing as he pulled down on his partner’s undergarments, annoyed by the thin pieces of fabric still keeping them even remotely decent. “These too..” he whined, clearing his throat as he felt embarrassment wash over him at the sound of his own voice. “Off..”

A light laugh left his lips, finding the desperation completely hilarious. Alois pushed his lover off eagerly, shifting his legs to get the undergarment off and allowing it to fall to the floor. He swiftly pulled the other man back in for a deep kiss, rolling the two over so that he could position himself on top and straddle the other. Now completely nude, the moonlight caught his skin in his moment of pause. 

“You’re so demanding…” He purred, leaning back in and winding a hand behind the other’s head. He locked his fingers in the denim hair, briefly eliciting a light amount of pain. “Though, you’ve been saving yourself.” He added, raising an eyebrow to challenge him. He’d missed just how needy his lover got with him, circumstance leading them to secrecy, and him being the only man unafraid to break that barrier - the only man who held this secret with him.

A soft whine left his lips as his head was pulled back, his Adam’s apple protruding from his throat as his neck arched. His face contorted slightly as he gazed up at the controlling man, brows furrowed and eyes slightly widened as his face flushed a deep rosy red.

He would be lying to himself if he tried to claim he wasn’t at least a bit nervous, as excited as he was. It had been nearly a decade since he had been in this position, this situation, and it had his nerves running rampant. Considering he still wasn’t married, he really hadn’t been physically intimate with another person since he was a young teen, when they experimented with each other’s bodies and memorized every curve and mark.

Ciel swallowed hard, the action difficult with the angle of his neck. “Eight years.. yes..” he breathed, his hands gently running up Alois’ thighs, dangerously close to his core but refusing to touch it. As desperate as he appeared, he liked to play games with him, too.

“Mm…” He trailed, tensing at the touch and biting his lip to stay calm as possible. “All for me, then..” He hummed. He was getting closer to losing his mind in the intimacy, whole body heating up. While he hadn’t had a lack of intimacy by any means, none of it was anything honest. He’d used his ex-lover as a means to an end, a way to spend those eight years not so alone. None of it was true pleasure. 

But this, this most certainly was just that. It was as if he hadn’t been touched in years either, never as nervous with another as he was with Ciel. The man knew every curve and spot by muscle memory, but his passion clouded his mind, rendered just as useless.

Removing his hand from the back of Ciel’s head, he grabbed the hand that was wandering near his thighs. Alois guided it, allowing it to rest directly beside his member, leaving the choice still ever open. Besides, his own hands had become shaky, his eyes having trouble staying open. “Please…” He whispered, opening his eyes for a second to reveal a pleading expression.

Ciel’s lips parted and hung open, his eyes never leaving Alois’ as he carefully wrapped his palm around the other’s member, grasping it gently. He watched his face for a change in expression, enjoying teasing his lover even as he laid underneath him, powerless.

Truth be told, Ciel would stay in this moment for all eternity if he could. Just the two of them; bodies bare and vulnerable, entangled in each other’s arms and legs twisted around one another, just like this forever.

Despite his current position, he couldn’t help but feel a rush of confidence as he touched the other man, his hand slowly beginning to move back and forth, his movements triggered by muscle memory. He grinned, looking up at Alois through half lidded eyes. “I so love that face you make..” He commented, his free hand running up and down Alois’ chest and stomach. “The same face, only older..” His hand squeezed slightly around the other’s member, hoping to provoke a more entertaining reaction from his partner.

Upon the contact, the blonde man gasped loudly, clapping a hand over his mouth in embarassment. Although they were entirely alone, it had been a long time since he’d felt a genuine surge of passion and the sudden vocalization shocked even himself. Confident, my love. 

“Ah-” he attempted, his breath catching, God, it was so hard to speak when handling actual pleasure. His entire body was so hot. “I’ll need to relearn you…” He trailed, eyes closing again, “all over again…” He admitted, his memory of Paris disappearing as the evening turned to deep blue night. 

Like the other, he wished for the time to just freeze here. They were so safe under the cover of night, and they didn’t have to lie to the world here. The blonde could be open with the other man underneath him, mouths and sins combining.

Ciel’s face subconsciously mimicked the other’s, his mouth slightly agape as he felt his lover harden under his touch. He continued stroking softly, tracing his thumb ever so gently around the tip.

“Then start studying..” he whispered, his voice breathy and longing. The knot in his stomach grew tighter and hotter, the friction between the two of them arousing himself as well. “You have a lot of catching up to do.” His cockiness was showing, made even more obvious by the smirk spreading across his lips like melted butter. Ciel spoke teasingly as if he himself didn’t have to relearn his lover’s body.

But his teasing didn’t stop there. He swiftly removed his hand from Alois’ member, placing both of his hands by either side of his head against the mattress. Alois got a taste, now it was his turn. And he would lay here until he got it. Clearly it hadn’t taken long for the two of them to fall back into the passionate and competitive, also quite stubborn, nature of their games.

“Fuck you…” He breathed, sending his lover a dagger of a glare. The man crawled off the bed at this moment, sliding down to the ground on his knees. He didn’t wait for the other man to reposition, but instead chose to grab both legs and tug him closer to the edge of the bed. 

The blonde licked his lips, a glimpse of his contract seal showing as he did so, leaning in now to place his lover’s member in his own mouth. Things like this held double-meaning for him, only ever soiling his seal for the other man. He and Jean’s love life was still a mystery to both; Alois lived in a daze then, and feeling alive at all came at a price. One thing could be said about it, however - Alois never allowed anyone else to touch his tongue in such a way. 

He worked the other to a fever pitch, he himself getting lost as well. Lesson one, he thought, one of many from here on out. The idea that the other was still engaged made him smile, knowing that he was able to prove his own worth on his knees.

A surprised gasp left him as he was pulled, moving to sit up on his elbows to watch Alois sink down to the ground before him. A pretty sight, he thought, though the devilish smirk on his face was quickly wiped away as soon as he felt his mouth on him. His right hand immediately went to the blond’s hair, gripping tightly as his left hand twisted itself in the sheets. His head, suddenly heavy, fell back against the mattress, a whimpering moan pouring from his lips.

Before his eyes, the other man could see his stomach muscles twitching and his chest heaving with heavy breaths as his mind frantically tried to make sense of this long forgotten feeling. Fingers and toes curled, back arched, eyes shut tightly as he felt his member engulfed in wet warmth.

His goal pleasure, the blonde bobbed his head dutifully, lost in the motion. He could feel his lover grow harder and hotter on the walls of his cheeks, a forgotten feeling and one long-missed. Ciel’s moans were a welcome melody to his ears, hands grabbing the other’s legs tightly; he had to be careful not to leave any bruises though he would delve great pleasure from doing so. 

He wished nothing more than to provide pleasure, despite only ever being good at receiving it. It was bliss to see the other’s edges soften right in front of his eyes, his breath quickening and his reaction exactly what he wanted out of the other. The taste of skin and the heat of the room were but a backdrop to their worlds entwining for a night - hopefully, there would be many more.

The two continued without words, only the sounds of whines and moans singing in their ears. Opening his eyes after holding them so tightly shut, Ciel felt as though he were seeing stars. He felt as though he could cry. Eight years of loneliness, eight years of being completely touch starved and wishing everyday so ashamedly that it was Alois’ cheek he were kissing instead of Lizzie’s.

His legs suddenly curled up around Alois’ head, unknowingly squeezing him between them as he felt hot pleasure pooling deep within him. It couldn’t end now, he had to last longer than this. He wished he could last hours doing this, all night if he were able. Gripping the blond’s hair tighter than he meant to, he pulled, lifting Alois’ head from his groin before he fell over the edge.

And what a sight he was. Pink and flushed and sweating and completely out of breath, barely able to hold himself up balancing on one elbow dug into the mattress. Ciel stared into nothing, eyes half lidded and pupils larger than moons, a bit embarrassed at how quickly Alois had gotten a rise out of him, but also trying to come down off of his overwhelming high.

The high was like a drug, a quick and fast hit now and then to stay satisfied. Alois felt like an addict, seeking his next hit from every hallway and dark room until he could come home and get high on his own supply. To compare it, Jean had been like a weak supply, a watered-down opiate that kept him alive but did naught much else. Ciel was the cleanest form of it, one hit could make him lose his mind. 

The contact turned his entire face bright pink and his whole body hot as the fire they stood in front of earlier. He was briefly thankful that his butler had worn him down already, stripped him emotionally so he could feel his lover piece him back together, breath by breath; pure opium poppies to soothe him. The blonde felt dizzy and lightheaded as his hair was grasped, crawling back on top of his love. What a sight that man beneath him was. 

Ciel had grown into a remarkable man, chiseled chest as if by the gods themselves. He took a pause to look him over, messy and unseamed. This was a sight he could behold for hours upon hours, the moonlight through the slightly drawn curtain dancing on them both. Leaning down on his own elbow, he placed a soft kiss on his lover’s cheek, a sweet gesture unusual for the Earl. 

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbled, brushing hair from the other man’s face with his free hand. “All I ever wanted.. right here.”

It was painfully poetic, how the two Earl’s saw each other in exactly the same way, particularly in this very moment. Flushed pink, out of breath and sweat beading up on their foreheads; surely the most beautiful sight they had seen in a long time.

Catching his breath, Ciel looked Alois in the eyes upon hearing his words, his heart clenching. Beautiful, the voice repeated in his mind. It was in moments like these that Ciel struggled to find words, too caught up in the act to think properly, as if he never learned to speak in the first place. He did what he could only think of doing then, and wrapped his arms tightly around Alois and pulled him in close, capturing his lips yet again in a deep kiss. His legs lifted, locking ankles around Alois’ hips, and he trailed one hand back down to his lover’s member, wasting no time in stroking him eagerly. Ciel wanted to capture every one of his moans and breathless gasps.

He needed him. He wanted him. He wanted just as much for it to happen as he wanted the scene to last for hours. “Please..” he whined in the kiss, nearly desperate enough to begin begging. “Alois, please..”

Allowing a heavy breath to pass his lips upon the touch of the other, he closed his eyes in desire. His hot breath released onto his lover’s face, relaxing into a soft smile. Alois opened his eyes to fix his gaze on his face, taking in every sweet second they had right now. 

“Take me however you wish.” He stated, weak and low. “You’re the one who’s been waiting without a placeholder. So… show me what you fantasized about.” His statement dripped with desire and longing, his thoughts still partially distant but his body and world contained in this room. He wondered exactly what the other wanted to see from him, nothing but a circus clown when it came to the other man. Alois knew in that moment, he’d do absolutely anything if it made the love of his life feel some kind of freedom from all the responsibility they both held, knowing none of those fantasies were for the consumption of his betrothed.

With his hand still working diligently, stroking his lover ever so intently, his face froze as he stared up at the other, looking so deeply into his sea blue eyes he thought he might be falling in.

What had he fantasized about? Eight years had passed and Ciel spent every one of those days trying desperately to forget Alois; his scent, his body, the feeling of his skin against his own. When they were young, they spent nights like these experimenting, learning about each other’s bodies and their own; what felt good and what felt right. In fact, thinking about it now, they had probably used almost every surface in this room for sinning. Ciel’s face turned an even darker red at the thought, those memories resurfacing.

But ultimately, he knew what he wanted. “This..” he breathed, bringing both of his hands up to Alois’ cheeks to hold him and stroke his thumbs across his skin. “Like this.. I want to see your face..” Saying it this way made it sound romantic, and while of course it was, a part of Ciel also wanted so desperately to watch the other’s face contort with pleasure as they neared the end of this. That was admittedly his favorite part. “Take me this way..”

He nodded softly, breath catching in his throat at every stroke. Fuck, jean wishes he could. Alois had only ever loved one other like this- his butler never returning the favor, every other man in his bed only ever filling the space. He had nearly forgotten what love really felt like; the passion of such a love never quite matching up. 

He rolled himself over, taking his lover with him since they were locked in such a manner. The man splayed himself out beneath him, giving himself up to the moment. “All of me is yours,” he purred, leaving himself on display for the other alone. His pale skin was hot as a stovetop, arching towards the other in desire. 

It has always belonged to the other man, he thought. No matter what he tried to do to move on, none of it had worked. He knew now that this was due to the fact that having sold their souls, their bodies were forever bound by the lack. They were a match made directly in hell itself, the fires of which came through their bodies when they were alone.

A moment passed as Ciel regained his balance from being flipped over, now hovering over the other young man with his hands against the mattress on either side of his head. He forgot how this felt, being in control. A rush of confidence sparked through him, sitting up straight to look down at Alois, a calm but devious look in his eyes.

Ciel slowly ran his fingertips under Alois’ jaw, placing his first two fingers against his lips. “Open.“ He commanded, slipping his two fingers into the other’s mouth and against his tongue, coating them in slick saliva. “I forgot how lovely you look like this..” He teased, grinning as he pressed his fingers down against the pad of Alois’ tongue, admiring the seal that was barely visible.

Alois heeded the command, parting his lips eagerly. The seal of his contract appeared as if a latent burn mark, branded but inactive as ever as he waited for his lover to defile it. The act was one of disrespect, wanting his mouth to be used to the fullest extent to coat the mark. The man smiled slightly, wanting nothing more than to be used. 

While he always stayed on top in the past, he felt comfortable letting himself loose only with his love. It had been years since they’d been together, years more since he’d been used last like this. While some memories still burned of the old man and his torture, Ciel would be the only one who could take those memories and light them ablaze. Nights such as these served as his only form of therapy, twisting his old memories into new ones and taking their place.

While distracting Alois with his fingers in his mouth, Ciel thought deeply about how he should go about being in this new position of control. He hadn’t done it like this before, and was wracking his brain for memories of things Alois had done to him. This was the perfect opportunity to give his lover a taste of his own medicine.

And suddenly, he had a wonderful idea. He stifled a small laugh, sneering as he removed his now soaked fingers from Alois’ mouth. In what looked like one swift movement from Alois’ love drunk point of view, Ciel scooched down the bed, lifting each of Alois’ legs over his shoulders and pulling him close by his thighs. “Relax for me, love,” he cooed, pressing an eager digit to his lover’s entrance. Remembering the initial discomfort he usually felt during this, he made sure to stimulate him in other ways, squeezing the other’s thigh with his free hand and licking gently at his member. He kept his gaze locked firmly on Alois’ face, studying him for any hint of pain or pleasure as he slowly massaged his finger inside of him, deeper and deeper until he reached his second knuckle.

With a sharp gasp, the man pressed into it, growing dizzy. While painful, no one else ever took so much care with his body. It hurt, but in the best kind of way; pain morphed into pleasure, heat growing in his abdomen. Letting out a soft moan, Alois closed his eyes tightly, breathing through any of the remaining pain. 

The man wanted to lose complete control underneath the other, relaxing as his fingers tied knots of the silken sheets and sweat beading on his chest. Drunk on love was a look that suited him flawlessly, arching his back into it and giving himself up to the mercy of the moment. He grew harder, heartbeats siphoning blood to the region and heard through the silence now only they punctured. 

“F…. fucking hell…”

Watching him carefully through his eyelashes, Ciel left wet kisses along his inner thighs, stopping to bite lightly at the skin. Hearing the other’s comment he couldn’t help but grin, sensing another opportunity for cockiness. “Don’t be so sensitive with me now..” he teased, remembering every time their positions had been switched, with Alois purring in his ear about how sensitive and tightly wound he could be.

Careful not to move too quickly, Ciel massaged in a second finger, this one sliding in a bit easier than the first, He curled them together, gently beginning to move them in and out of the other’s entrance. His free hand ran up, up his thigh and up the side of his torso, eventually finding his hand and interlocking their fingers tightly. “I’m never this quiet,” he smirked, pushing his fingers in just a bit deeper. “Let me hear you..”

Neither am I, he thought, not when I’m faking. That was just it, wasn’t it though. This time, Alois was actually embarrassed by how desperate he’d gotten for this brat. While familiar with the feeling, he wasn’t used to his heartbeat quickening this much, the heat in his stomach growing so much. Everything without him had just been a release, and only satisfied when he could block out Jean’s body. Thank god their faces were similar, but their personalities held different appeal. The man inside him now, for example, was one he loved. 

With another thrust, he was driven close to the edge. A louder moan escaped him, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. Sticky-sweet bliss coursed through his whole body, feeling as though he had been dipped into syrup with how lost in paradise he was becoming. His fingers tightened into the sheets, pulling them off the other side of the bed as he allowed another moan to escape.

“You make such pretty noises..” He hummed, sucking a dark bruise into the inside of Alois’ thigh. He continued twisting and thrusting his fingers into him, curling them and trying to ensure he was relaxed. It wouldn’t be pleasing for either of them if it wasn’t.

Planting a quick kiss on his thigh, Ciel gently removed his fingers, sitting himself up and pulling Alois’ legs around his hips, securing them there. His chest rose and fell as he took deep breaths, trying to push aside the nervousness he felt in this moment. A final look at the blond’s face caused him to relax completely, feeling the heat between their bodies grow hotter. He swallowed hard, leaning in to kiss his lover passionately.

Pulling away so they were just centimeters apart, Ciel gazed into the eyes of Alois, exhausted and aroused. “Stop me if it hurts..” He whispered softly, remembering how Alois always said something along those lines to him when the positions were switched.

Ciel gently stroked himself a few times, stifling soft moans before pressing the tip of his member to Alois’ entrance, moving as slowly as he could as he began to push inside. A low groan melted from his lips, feeling the tight heat surround his member. It was almost enough to send him over the edge just like this, but he was determined to hold on. Steadier now, he placed his palms over Alois’ locking their fingers together on either side of his head against the mattress.

Wincing slightly, he exhaled sharply as he felt the other enter. It did hurt, of course, but he could relax into it in a way he hadn’t been able to with his replacement. It had been years however, since he’d done anything like this, and he was tighter than he used to be. Held down by his palms, he struggled to clear the brain fog that made him feel drunk. 

Eyes watering at the remnants of pain, he let himself ease into the pleasure. The heat in his abdomen grew, placing him right on the edge of the cliff. The man moaned repeatedly at every thrust, leaving his mouth open so as not to worry about it as much as he was prior. The room grew louder and hotter and he felt himself edging so close to release, fingers holding tightly through the other’s. 

After only minutes, Alois felt the pressure burst, arching back into the bed in ever-fleeting bliss. The moment made him feel lightheaded, all the blood rushing to the area and leaving him a succulent mess. Embarrassed, he released his fingers to wind tightly together behind his lover’s back. “Fuck you…” He sighed, an echoing release rocking his body again.

Upon feeling his body relax, Ciel picked up his pace a bit, thrusting rhythmically into his lover. Soft gasps and low groans tumbled from his lips, his brows furrowing as sweat beaded along his rosy forehead.

Only minutes later did the rhythm he found begin to fumble, his thrusts becoming less precise and more desperate. He leaned over Alois’ body, gripping the sheets above his head as the other wrapped tightly around his back. The knot in his lower abdomen pulled, tighter and tighter until the rope snapped, forcing his blissful release inside of Alois. He shuddered, his hips still slowly rocking as he rode out his high, looking down at the mess Alois had left all over his lower stomach.

Ciel barely had any energy left, his muscles quivering slightly as he rested on top of the other man, yet to pull out. He chuckled softly at Alois’ feisty words, peppering the side of his face and neck with soft kisses. “You loved it..” Ciel hummed into his ear.

After taking a few deep breaths, Ciel moved to pull out, both of them flinching a bit as he did so, followed by a relaxed sigh. He knew they had cleaning up to do, but he decided it could wait a few more minutes. The power high he had felt was dying down now as he curled up against Alois’ side, resting his head on his lover’s chest and listening to his heart. It felt as though a part of him had been fulfilled, like an incomplete puzzle finally placing the last puzzle piece after years of being incomplete. Alois Trancy was his missing puzzle piece.

“Mm…” Alois hummed ,closing his eyes and holding his lover close. “Irrelevant.” He teased, looking over. He poked one finger into Ciel’s red hot cheek, causing the other man’s face to shrink for a moment. The expression made him chuckle lightly, all tension gone between the two. It was a childish gesture, calling back to the years they spent apart and tying the time together. It was as if they’d never been apart to being with, the shedded years as irrelevant as the comment.

The taller man turned his head, nuzzling into Ciel’s neck. “I just want you to know,” he began softly, “you have no one to compete with.” 

He wondered just how much his past affair bugged the other man, though he hoped not at all. Jean had looked nearly the same, spoke the same, and shared most mannerisms. Yet, he held the knowledge to be true that the comparison was never truly there. Nights were desperate in a different way, as if he had to prove himself time and time again. Both men had grown up beside Alois, but Alois had never grown out of London, rather leaving a piece of himself here that he was able to gain back in these sickly sweet nothings.

Ciel closed his eyes, nuzzling deeper into the embrace and wrapping his arms around Alois. He wrapped a strand of blond hair around his finger, twisting it gently.

The sudden confession took him by surprise, his eyes opening although he didn’t move. He was surprisingly not angry or hurt in the slightest. The two of them were not only living under different circumstances, one of them actively engaged and the other free to do as he pleased, but they also handled their pain quite differently. Ciel tended to shrink away from the world and wallow in silence, muting any emotion he felt until it passed. Alois would act out in a number of ways, grabbing onto anything he could to chase a new feeling that would distract him from the pain.

“I know..” he whispered, lifting his head to look at Alois, still playing with his hair. “I do, I know..”

The two Earls shared that moment, looking into each other’s eyes and reaching a silent understanding that they would be okay, that the past didn’t matter and whatever happened in the last eight years wasn’t something they could change. They laid there awhile longer, snuggling close and sharing the occasional kiss, before eventually rising from the bed to clean one another. Ciel felt both pride and pity at the sight of Alois struggling to sit up, hiding a snicker as he helped clean him up.

Their bodies cooled down, no longer out of breath and coated in a layer of sweat. They pulled the silky covers over themselves, resting their heads comfortably in the folds of the pillows, still clinging to one another as if they feared the other would disappear before morning.

Tied together, all worries dissipated in the fog of the London night. They were finally alone, even if it were for only a night or two here and there. As grown men, they knew they were both on borrowed time even more so than as teens. Any moment outside this manor or this room could endanger either one, and yet they were perfectly calm. Falling asleep now, the blonde was sure to hide in his lover’s chest, letting darkness cover him completely. Pain from long ago didn’t touch him here, sewing up the lost edges of their love story.

[ofeva]

⌠ REINA HARDESTY, 21, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, EVANGELINE ASTOR! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in MEDICAL TRAINING + COVERT OPERATIONS; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (lace bralettes under pressed collared shirts, the sound of mozart’s piano sonata no. 11 echoing from another room, reading at candlelight with a bottle of merlot, holding your breath underwater until your lungs burst). when it’s the (taurus)’s birthday on 5/12/99, they always request their EGG CUSTARD TART from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ kati, 23, she/her, est ⍀ @gallagherintro

STATS / PINTEREST / CONNECTIONS / CLASSES

INSPIRATION.

camille preaker – sharp objects

ophelia – hamlet

marla singer – fight club

mia wallace – pulp fiction

celeste wright – big little lies

hester argyll – ordeal by innocence

melisandre – game of thrones

BACKGROUND + CLICK FOR BIO.

tbh i wrote these bullets and the bio is better if you have time for it. but if not: 

so, james and elizabeth weren’t supposed to have children...they tried and they just couldn’t do it ! at an older age, they wound up adopting evangeline, their heir and saving grace. eva doesn’t know anything about her birth parents, she was adopted as a baby.

james and elizabeth were very strict about eva’s upbringing and she was a lonely child. she didn’t understand why they didn’t want her playing with other children, why they got so upset when she did typical child things like coming home covered in dirt and climbing trees. 

she was a very imaginative child and therefore made up her own friends, playing in the woods as she pictures elves, fairies, and goblins, telling herself stories and creating her own adventures. it helped ease the loneliness, but she was always a little...strange. the other children called her names. she never really outgrew it. 

when eva stumbles home one night with bloody knees, patched up by the nanny, she can hear her parents whisper: "maybe this was a mistake. we weren't ready." 

eva has a wild imagination and likes to talk about how her room is haunted sometimes, always making up stories about ghosts and things she hears in the woods. the sort of thing a normal parent would dismiss, but her mother seems visibly nervous. 

on eva’s twelfth birthday, it all makes sense: eva is not their first child. james and elizabeth managed to have one child before her, named isabella. she was sickly from the day she was born, and now eva understands why your james and elizabeth are so concerned about cleanliness, why she can't go play with the other kids. isabella never turned twelve. eva’s been walking the halls of the astor estate like the ghost of a girl she never knew existed, she never had a fucking chance.

she goes to school in the city and she attempts to persevere, to be the daughter that james and elizabeth want. her grades are immaculate, she shows strokes of genius and she devours books faster than most people can get through a chapter. james and elizabeth think it might be easier if they send eva to prep school, away from their home. they say that she’s just too smart, but evangeline knows the truth deep down ; they don’t want her there.

she goes to a rich, private school in new england and easily sticks out like a sore thumb. so, she learns to assimilate, emulating characters from her favorite stories, trying to bend herself into someone else that people might like. eva has a hard time being herself.

assimilation, covert operations, these are not the only skills she gains as she tries to fit in with your peers. a study she does for her science project about the effects of teenage vaping is published in an academic journal. it's funny because eva loves nicotine herself. she knows better than anyone what that shit does to her lungs, but she’s too in love with the aesthetic tbh. she just doesn’t care.

welcome to the breaking point ! as it’s been mentioned, eva doesn’t really fit in with the cool crowd and high schoolers can be vicious. there’s a group of mean girls she often clashes with. eva likes to sneak out at night with a bottle of merlot and a flashlight and read, but one night some girls follow her. they start pushing her around and she pushes back just a little too hard, and lucy prescott tumbles down the side of a hill.

oh, lucy prescott is fine.

she’s just a bitch about her broken leg and busted elbow and her dad is a big donor, so eva gets fucking expelled and loses her scholarship. no college is gonna accept her now. she doesn’t know how to tell her parents, fearful of being a disappointment.

in the airport, she’s given strange letter. apparently, her parents don’t know anything...someone’s covered the incident up and she’s been accepted into a college that she didn’t even apply for. a school for espionage with a straightforward track to mi6. eva’s parents are so proud, they start bragging about her...but it’s too little too late. the bitterness that's grown inside of her heart is there because they only care about her successes, and she knows they’d never support her in her failures and fuck ups. they don’t see her for who she really is and they don’t care.

she gets on pretty well in school, but it quickly becomes clear that she’s most interested in people. what makes them tick, what makes their heart beat, how the blood courses through their veins. so, she transfers to gallagher academy because it offers a medical training program that her spy school in london doesn’t. at least...that’s the story. 

WARNING...ACCESSING TOP SECRET INFORMATION...

yeah, that spy school isn’t just any spy school. it’s fucking CALEDONIA. eva easily gets obsessed with things and her latest is the world of espionage. what’s special about caledonia? the students there have nothing to lose. caledonia is all eva has left, and it’s all that she knows to be loyal to. 

mr. stewart noticed her when no one else did. he tells her that he's been watching her for a long time, that she’s so much more than her family's prowess or the expectations she could never live up to. it makes her feel valuable, worth something. he is the parent she’s always wanted.

she’s no longer competing against a ghost of a sister that no longer exists. no, her competition is tangible, real, and so much more annoying: his name is cole conner. 

so, meet eva’s new obsession. as her years at caledonia progress together, he’s one step ahead of her at every turn. it’s true that she spends late nights studying, but it’s not just medical journals. it’s everything. it’s how to be the best at everything. 

when cole is sent on the gallagher mission, eva is not even surprised. of course he would, he's the favorite. but months go by with no word, it almost seems like he's doing nothing at all, and rumors turn in the mill. in short: he sucks. so, mr. stewart asks eva to start in the fall and work alongside cole. she’ll be a transfer student, repeating a year to catch up on medical credits that her old school lacked, and she’ll also take on the second specialization of covert ops, to keep an eye on cole, of course.

PERSONALITY.

CREATIVE. eva is very much lost in her mind sometimes, but she’s always full of new ideas, new thoughts, and has an uncanny ability to keep herself occupied. she’s hardly ever bored and as much as she likes to read, she also likes to write, keeping notebooks full of random scribblings mostly, but the occasional poem or short story will come to fruition. 

RESILIENT. she’s been through a lot and continues to take it. the home where she grew up could leave anyone battered down and discouraged, but every time someone else wins, eva gets back up and continues to fight. whether it’s against her parents, against the world, or against, well, cole, she’ll bite back at what stands in her way despite the fact that obstacles keep coming up over and over again. she does not give up.

INTELLIGENT. eva is just really smart! how else can you say it? she has a voracious appetite for learning, for getting her hands on as much of the world as she can, and she is genuinely clever and calculating, the the point where she hasn’t been able to fit in with her peers growing up. that’s why schools that specialize in teaching gifted people, like gallagher, are the best fit for her. she can find her people. 

HEDONISTIC. however, the one thing about her is that she is not exactly disciplined, and it’s probably what sets her behind her rivals; she’s hopelessly self-indulgent, engaging in activities that make her happy over what she’s being told to do. that’s why she has a weakness for good wine, for staying up way too late, for reading an entire book in a day because she can’t hold back. 

OBSESSIVE. eva is so prone to obsession! she can’t stop herself when she fixates on something and yes, this can be a strength when she is trying to learn or accomplish her goals, but it’s a bit much. she puts all of herself into everything and she can’t just casually like something by half – either she’s so bored by it or she is all in. – “i never really learned how to like something. i always let it consume me.” 

IDEALISTIC. always unrealistically aiming for a perfection she can’t achieve, she holds herself and others to impossible standards. she does this in relationships too, which is probably why she finds herself falling in love with fictions at times, sometimes lacking the perception to separate her dreams and her realities. she’s a dangerous enemy but a powerful ally because of this. she doesn’t fear going after what she wants. i actually have no idea if she’s ever been in love or if she’s just emulating the idea of love that she reads about in literature. 

HEADCANONS.

eva’s reasons for doing things: 1) spite. or 2) the aesthetic. eva is so fucking about the aesthetic, it’s literally why she smokes cigarettes or wears skirts on a windy day, she can’t stop herself. catch her in the forest, drinking a bottle of wine and reading her book by CANDLELIGHT when she could just sit inside by a lamp but no, she has to look fucking feral at all times.

does not really have a sleep schedule. she’ll just sleep when she’s tired, kind of just collapses when she feels like she should. time isn’t real, she likes the nighttime, sleeps whenever.

loves used bookstores and will probably bribe fourth years to bring her back books that are worn and loved when they go into roseville. just likes the feeling of worn down paper, slightly smudged ink, and the annotations of a stranger.

her favorite weather is rain and thunderstorms! for the aesthetic a bit, she will be melancholy for the sake of it, sitting by the window with a cup of tea, just thinking, journaling, writing poems about a lost lover and how she misses being tangled up in bedsheets, forgetting her own name. so dramatic.

used to be on a swim team as a kid and zoom zooms in the water, she’s not very fast on land but she’s a fucking shark !!! 

grew up with piano lessons and can play the piano. sometimes writes her own music but it’s mostly for herself, will write songs about the people that she cares for. she’s talented!

her parents were much older when they adopted her and due to the secluded nature of her upbringing, most of her interests are older movies, older classic novels, older music...the stuff from the house she grew up in, she has old-fashioned taste. 

does not really understand or use social media :/ tiktok terrifies her, doesn’t like the idea of the government having her info so. she is not really on any social networking, but she can be reached via text of course! does like emojis! 

do i have to say it........obviously she’s bisexual......please forthe love of god if she doesn’t kiss a girl in the woods while she’s here i will lose my damn mind. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

FELLOW BOOK LOVERS? someone who’s into reading like she is, perhaps she will join the book club but they stay up late and discuss poems together and they just love to talk about media! maybe someone who’s a little more hip to contemporary things and can expose eva to some different genres, or get her to read some cheesy ridiculous romances or YA that she never would’ve touched otherwise. or they’re snobs like her. i’m just thinking rly hard about this pin. 

MESSY EX PLS. hmm oh my god give me someone for eva to obsess over, please? not even in a positive way, but i’d love someone from her past; they could’ve met a) in america while she went to school there, b) her summers in london, c) any of her summer travels, maybe a summer romance...literally i’m down to work with anywhere in the world, but this would be someone that knows TOO MUCH about her and therefore she has to avoid them due to her role as a double agent, but she probably really wants to talk to them. they probably ended on bad terms without much closure but honestly, she can’t talk to them. terrified they’ll catch her in a lie, they just know her too damn well. 

SOMEONE WHO IS SUSPICIOUS OF HER. they think she’s a bit odd, and while eva is good....there’s good spies at gallagher too and they just get a bad vibe from her. ask her a lot of questions, think she’s strange, and after the brotherhood bullshit last year, they’re wary of a new transfer student. eva is determined to give your character the runaround. 

CRUSH. obviously eva is prone to obsession anyways, so let me have your dreamy, interesting muse that she can idealize in her head and write some poems about, maybe they vibe and talk about books and they have the same fave book and so she’s like instant heart eyes but obv. can’t and won’t do anything about it ever <3 she will act like this. i can see maybe this person being a legacy or someone eva needs to learn more about n she just becomes obsessed with them on a personal level too. 

KINDRED SPIRITS. best friends but like they click INSTANTLY ah ! literally it’s like they’re soul mates, they have shared interests and they can spend all night talking. this is someone that eva is also tempted to reveal all of herself to but she can’t. she doesn’t feel bad about lying but she does to this person because they click on such an intimate level that it feels like they’ve known one another forever. terribly sad betrayal to come later <3 homies but make it dark academia tbh. also a vibe. also this.

SECRET FWB. obviously because of her job she prob shouldn’t be getting distracted or involved with anyone, but! sometimes a girl has needs. they probably sneak around a lot and they don’t really understand eva’s need for keeping things so secret? but she’s trying to keep the other agents like cecilia, cole, & allister from knowing that she’s being self-indulgent. 

OPPOSITES ATTRACT FRIENDSHIP. give me your sunshine girls, your sparkly pink princesses, your muses that are always laughing...eva is attracted to her light and wants to be around her all the time, finds her adorable and compelling! they’re very different in energy but they find each other fascinating and eva finds her energy just so infectious, this girl makes eva feel optimistic about life and she adores her. would protect this girl with her life. 

FLIRTATIONSHIP. this. probably like a flirtationship where they don’t take each other seriously or where she flirts with your muse a lot because she finds it funny and your muse continually puts down her advances but it’s all like jokes and amusing. 

PEOPLE FROM HER PAST. not a ton of these obviously, but i wouldn’t mind one or two people that kind of make her squirm. maybe the angst of old friends that lost touch would be really fun? i’m a sucker for ex-friend things and then we can build them back up or ruminate in the awkwardness, whatever the vibe turns out to be. 

PEN PAL. obviously eva was a lonely child so she found ways to make her own fun or...make her own friends. whether through an exchange program at school or something she found on the internet, these two have been writing letters for years. i feel like she stuck with it because she was such a lonely person whereas most people lose touch or you’re a kid so you forget about it. they probably graduated to text message over the years. 

CARETAKER? idk someone who is like an older sibling figure to evangeline. she’s obviously never had that in her life, but someone who...sees that she’s struggling and wants to look after her? develops a soft spot for her? she’s like their weird daughter/younger sister/whatever and we love that. like that quote....ur such a soft and messy thing, no one knows how to take care of you...but this person does <3 holding her hair when she’s had too much wine, giving her tissues when her fave character in a book dies, etc.

GENERAL SPY STUFF. obviously eva is trying to get the best of cole and learn about her classmates so we’ll get to that. but also, eva is really interested in characters that cole is close to/cole cares about ... she shall be asking them lots of things and reporting back to mr. stewart, thanks.

also down to plot dynamics among classmates, roommates, and things relating to caledonia or whatever else, we can always just vibe with it. 

[dibidibifiction]

Criminal In My Mind: Chapter 3

Warning: foul language

Pairings: Choi Minho x Reader; Kim Jonghyun x Kim Kibum (side) Word count: 1.8k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction made for personal entertainment of readers. The writer does not ever intend to offend her readers nor does she aim to spread false information about anyone as to pay any disrespect to the real-life persons whom the characters are based on. She also does not claim ownership to any of the images that are being used.

masterlist Chapter 2

Y/N

I just received a phone call from Minho to notify me that Taemin has been brought to the hospital. I’m now in a cab on my way there, out of breath from being anxious and in a hurry at the same time.

I just told that kid not to do something stupid!

Minho told me that Taemin’s going to be okay but what I’m worried about now is keeping this a secret. I hate lying to Mr. Lee.

So, that’s his name. Minho, like from the book series, Maze Runner. He didn’t sound hostile at all when I talked to him on the phone. He actually sounded reassuring and respectful.

I arrive at the emergency room and immediately catch the sight of him as he stands up to approach me. 

“Hey, thank you so much for being here for him. I’m Y/n. Where is he?”

“Right in there,” Minho leads me to Taemin. Although I find myself staring at his back for a second, eyeing his features briefly, as I’m quite astonished by his obvious handsomeness.

I walk right up to Taemin, almost teary. “What happened to you? I thought I already told you not to do something stupid!”

“It’s not my fault, Noona. My girlfriend’s ex and his friends got back at me for stealing her, which is not really the case at all. She came onto me!”

This kid is so adorable that he never fails to make me laugh. I could never be mad at him. “Well, I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Thanks to Minho Hyung. He would’ve fought off those guys if they hadn’t run away fast enough. He and his pretty girlfriend helped me and rushed me over here. For free I might add.”

I turn to Minho, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that. I promise we’ll pay you back.”

He chuckles charmingly, “There’s no need for that. Anyway, I have to go. I have to drop my mom off at the airport. Taemin, stay out of trouble.”

We watch him walk away. He does look cuter when he smiles. The chuckle with his deep voice was just a bonus. For some reason, he has this flaming charisma that I find sexy. With his muscular manly figure showing off despite wearing a loose shirt, and his long arms and legs. I wonder how tall he is. And that ass? I mean no disrespect but fuck! 

“Was that really his girlfriend that drove you here or was it his mom or his sister?”

“I think she’s too young to be that guy’s mom. Why, do you like him?”

“I didn’t say that!” My voice sounds so high and loud that I seem defensive.

“Oh, please. You’re already smitten,” he continues to annoy me. “Not only is he hot and handsome, but he’s really kind, too. God, I’ll be all over that guy if I was a woman. Or gay.”

I laugh at what Taemin says. Regardless of how ridiculous that sounds, I’m afraid that he might be right.

. . .

Days have gone by after that Taemin incident. It’s finally my day off tomorrow! I have over an hour left before my shift ends.

I will finally get to see Kibum tonight, who I haven’t seen in a long time. We barely hang out anymore ever since he moved out of town with his own family for a bigger place. 

He’s been my best friend since junior high school. I had no friends back then because everybody’s too uncomfortable to speak to me after I survived the abduction. He was the new kid in school. One lunchtime, I was having trouble pumping ketchup onto my plate because my limbs were too small and weak. He then helped me out since he’s surprisingly strong for quite a skinny guy at the time. Since then, after we first shared our love for ketchup, that’s how we came to be. We also went to the same college and got the same undergraduate, only he carried on his studies to pursue dermatology and I finally got to be a florist.

Speak of the devil, “Kim Kibum!” I answer my phone.

“I hope you’re carrying some aspirin with you because we are gonna party until roofs blow off!”

“Who are you kidding? You hate clubs,” I get confused at first but immediately realize he’s just being sarcastic.”

“The fuck I do. I just thought I could trick you. But we’re still drinking. I went into clubs so rarely in college but now, I have three-year-old boy twins and a fiancé, who I met in one of those clubs,” he laughs too loudly. Funny for someone who hates noisy and crowded places.

“I know. I was there the whole fucking time! Is Jonghyun Oppa coming, too?” I ask him.

“Uh, no, he went home to his mom with the boys. It’s just a few neighborhoods away from where you are. He might come and join us tomorrow morning.”

“That’s fine. We can just meet up at SM Café.”

“Oh, are still friends with that Jinki guy? I thought we didn't like him anymore.”

“Hey, come on, we only went out for a week. We didn’t even sleep together. Plus, he is a perfect gentleman, although sometimes annoying because of his jokes. But there’s no reason to fall out.”

“Does he still flirt with you?” he asks me teasingly.

“Yes, be right there,” I tell a customer who has just walked in and called out for assistance. “Hey, I gotta go. I’ll see you later, honey. Love you. Bye.”

I hang up and instantly turn to the customer by the vases section of the store.

After almost an hour discussing kinds of soil, pots, and vases with a customer, Mr. Lee comes in from the back of the shop, “Mr. Lee, what are you doing here?”

“Well, I live here. My apartment’s right upstairs,” he’s frowning like an old man who screams at children who wouldn’t get off his lawn.

I laugh at this hilarious sarcasm. “I mean aren’t you supposed to go to the dentist this afternoon and get your teeth fixed?”

“I changed my mind. I’m happy the way my teeth are,” he tells me while smiling widely. “By the way, I hired two new florists to cover for you as you arrange flowers your way all day long. I know how swamped you can be handling customers, deliveries, and bouquets all at the same time. Plus, we have more than enough money to pay for extra help thanks to you. So, congratulations, you’re my new head florist!” 

“No way, really? Thank you so much, Mr. Lee!” I jump up and down out of glee. I almost hug him.

“No problem. Oh, and you get a pay raise. Now get out of here. I got this,” he insists, patting me on the head.

I go home to take a shower and put on some more attractive clothes and bold, glam makeup because I don’t know where Kibum and I will end up going, just like the old times. Even though we didn’t often go to clubs—well, he didn’t—we still drank together at our dorm, resto-bars, and barbeque places. I always wanted to be ready to live this single drunk life in case some sexy guy wants to get on with me.

This time I take the bus to SM café and by the time I arrive, I catch Kibum’s car just pulling in for parking. I go ahead, walking into the café, and get relieved that it’s less crowded than it was this morning. I take a seat at a table by the window as Jinki approaches me. 

“Hey, is your shift almost over?” I ask him.

“Yeah, I get off at-”

“Oh, my God, Kim Kibum!” I scream and suddenly rush over to Kibum and give him a long tight hug. “I missed you so much!” 

Last time I saw him, his hair was pastel purple and longer. Now, it’s blonde and shorter, almost to his roots. I swear this man pulls off every single hairstyle and every single outfit. I can never understand how he does it. There’s not a day when he is not gorgeous.

“I missed you too, babe!” We’re screaming like a couple of teenagers who are so ready for spring break.

“You remember Jinki?” I introduce them then they exchange their hellos.

“What can I get you guys?” Jinki asks, as merry as always.

“Iced black coffee for me and…” I look to Kibum.

“Iced low-fat latté and a piece of red velvet cake for me. Thanks!”

“Great! I’ll be right back with your orders. Nice to see you again, Kibum.”

Kibum smiles and waves at Jinki as he walks away, grabbing empty trays from recently left-out tables. 

“He got cuter, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Then what are you doing? Get on with it. You’re not getting any younger.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not the kind of guy I get attracted to. You know what I mean? It’s just...” I go on and on trying to explain, listing down reasons but nothing I say seems to make sense.

Kibum stares at me for a second with a wrinkled forehead and slightly parted lips. “I literally didn’t get a single thing from what you just said.”

“Well, there’s this guy I’m hoping to-”

“Here are your drinks and one red velvet cake. Hope you enjoy,” Jinki is back, placing our beverages on the table.

“Thank you so much!” Kibum exclaims.

“I get off at nine,” Jinki turns to me.

“That’s soon. We’ll just wait for you,” I tell him. “We have a lot of catching up to do anyway.

“Alright, as long as you guys don’t mind. We can drink here if you want. I still got several bottles of soju left from when my friends came over last week.”

“Sure, that would be great! It’s less trouble,” Kibum tilts his head toward my direction, referring to me and the many nights I got into trouble in every college bar.”

. . .

I start hearing familiar voices in the background fading in.

“Right, right. So what happened with you and the girl?” I hear Jinki laughing.

“What do you think? I haven’t seen her ever since. I decided to take the twins with me since she didn’t want them. Then Jonghyun and I eventually got back together and worked everything out the way...”

I open my eyes just to realize I passed out. I look around, we’re still at the café. I look at my watch, it’s almost midnight. 

Holy shit, have I grown weak? I scold myself. It's only been two hours since we started drinking.

When I was in college, I didn’t stop drinking while the sun was still hiding. I could go all night partying even with people I didn’t know, as long as they didn't sell drugs or dressed up as a cop. What happened to me? Maybe I’m too old for this shit.

“There she is!” Jinki is laughing at me.

Just after a few minutes, I still crave for a fun night so I resume drinking and join the boys. Turns out the night is still young and the fun is just continuing on. 

Would you look at that, I’m not too old for this shit after all!

Chapter 4

[juliabohemian]

backhanded compliments & the art of commenting on other people’s creative content without being a complete twat waffle

WARNING: This is a long post.

I'm a word person. That's probably why, when I do find myself becoming irritated by someone else's unsolicited critique, it is almost always due to their choice of words. Words are important and very powerful. Words have different meaning to different people. Which is why we need to take care when choosing them.

Now, whenever possible, I will click on the profile of the person who left the unsolicited critique and try to get a feel for what type of person they are. Just so I can better understand why they might have left the comment in question. If it is clear they are not a native English speaker, I stop right there. Learning a foreign language is hard. English is one of the most ridiculous languages on the planet. So, mastering its nuances is a challenge for someone who may not have grown up using it. I’m sure I have offended at least one person with my Spanish, at some point. I’m working on it.

BACKHANDED COMPLIMENTS

When I say choice of words, I am implying almost exclusively to something known as a backhanded compliment. A backhanded compliment is a statement that seems, on the surface, to be positive, but is actually an insult. If you are not familiar with the backhanded compliment, I direct you to the mom from American Beauty who says to her teenage daughter "Honey, I'm so proud of you. I watched you very closely, and you didn't screw up once!"

There are a lot of reasons why people make such comments. It would be reductive to suggest they are all suffering from some form of insecurity, although many of them probably are. Some may genuinely believe that they are being helpful. Others may be jealous of the attention another person is receiving and want to either sabotage them or find a way to get in on the action. 

However, it is most likely that the type of person to give a backhanded compliment is either very young, very sheltered or very privileged. And thus, they may not realize that their opinion about something may not carry the same weight on the internet as it does in other venues. Or they may not realize that the world is filled with people who are more informed and more experienced than they are. They mistake their opinion for objective analysis and therefore, offer it freely and without hesitation.

Now, I would like to state that if you see something and you REALLY think it is problematic, you should absolutely offer your critique. Note: if you dislike or disagree with something, that does not make it problematic. Anything that promotes the maltreatment or marginalization of any living thing is problematic. Even so, you should stop and ask yourself whether your critique will accomplish anything or if it would be more worthwhile to simply report the post in question and move on.

That being said, here is MY analysis of some of the backhanded compliments I have received over the years (amalgamated for brevity), and a guide to leaving more constructive/supportive comments for the content creators in your life.

ARTWORK (including photography)

“Definitely not my style, but beautiful.” Do we need to know that it's not your style? If you think it's beautiful, just say that.

“This is so great, but it would have been better if you had used yellow instead of red!” Color choice is a creative choice and its value cannot be objectively measured. Just say it’s great and move on.

“Wow, this is way better than your old stuff.” Do I need to explain why this is bad? I hope not.

“Wow, you're really improving.” Slightly better than the previous one, but still bad. This is a really good example of something that might even feel like a compliment, but actually isn't. Saying that someone is improving is basically saying that it needed to improve. 

Unless you are speaking to your own student or a child, or a really close friend or family member who has openly shared with you their desire to improve as an artist, this is completely unnecessary.

It's important to remember that not everyone is doing things with the same objectives as you. Not every artist or photographer is aiming for technical mastery. If an artist creates something that is very personal and feels pleased with it, the last thing they want is for someone else to come along and tell them what’s “wrong” with it.

Really ANY comment that suggests that the piece of artwork in question would be improved if it were altered in some way is a no no. Unless you are an art teacher or someone has specifically asked for you to give them this information, or you are paying someone to make something especially for you.

FANFICTION (or really writing in general)

“Oh man...I was so excited when I saw your story summary, until I saw the pairing.” Do not comment on a story just to tell the author that you don't like their pairing. Ever. If you accidentally click on a story without seeing the pairing and you are disappointed, your feelings are valid. But there’s no need to let the author know.

"This was good but I don't think (character) would say (quoted dialogue)." Then, you should go and write a story with that character, but where they say different things.

"I noticed you used a semi-colon in the third paragraph. Semicolons are actually supposed to...." Critique grammar, punctuation, spelling and writing mechanics ONLY if you are the author's editor, the author's teacher, or if the author requested it. Period.

If you are commenting to point out what you believe to be a factual error, stop and ask yourself...is this really an error? Is the error intentional? Does the error represent the views of the author or the views of a specific character in a fictional work? Does this story have a reliable narrator? If not, might that narrator be misinformed or biased? And the most important question to ask yourself before correcting an author...do I actually know what the fuck I'm talking about?

Once, in a story, I referenced Copernicus and mentioned that he was imprisoned by the Catholic church. Which we know that he was. Someone commented to leave a long, bullet pointed explanation for how this is a common misconception and that the Catholic Church never mistreated Copernicus, along with many links to articles and videos as evidence. Guess who made all the articles and videos? The Catholic Church. SKIP!

When commenting on a fictional work, consider letting the author know how the story is making you feel. Speculate about what you think might happen next. Express excitement and anticipation. Ask a question for clarification about what you just read. And you can never go wrong by simply thanking the author for taking the time to provide you with free entertainment.

MEMES & JOKES

I love to make people laugh. I have been making people laugh since I learned to talk. This was actually bourne out of an inability to interpret facial expressions. I couldn't tell when people were angry or annoyed. But when they were laughing, I knew exactly how they felt.

That being said, people on the internet LOVE to tell me when something isn't funny. The only problem with this is that humor is very subjective and often very esoteric. I have made memes that I knew were esoteric and knew that not everyone would understand them. I have memes just for birdwatchers. Hell, I have made memes just for a dozen people who participated in a specific academic discussion. But it amazes me how people who don't get a joke are often most compelled to comment and let me know that it isn't funny. How can you know if you don't understand it? Is it so hard to imagine that things exist for which you are not the intended audience?

It's perfectly okay to comment and say you don't understand, and ask for an explanation. But if you look at something and think "I don't understand this, therefore it lacks value" you may have some growing up to do.

Before reblogging someone else's joke to add to the joke, stop and ask yourself whether your intention is to correct or improve upon the joke, or if you are attempting to laugh along WITH the OP.

We've all done this, I'm sure. I know I have. But it really inconsiderate to hijack someone's meme, meta or artwork with a completely unrelated discussion. I can't tell you how annoying it is to post something and check my inbox days later, only to find pages of notifications of people reblogging my shit over and over as part of some completely unrelated discussion.

Once again, if you're commenting to point out a factual error, ask yourself whether the error was intentional. I recently made a meme about the Star Trek films in which Data uses contractions. All of his dialogue is ridiculously out of character, in fact. Which is kind of part of the joke. But someone felt the need to reblog AND comment to let me know that Data wouldn't say that because he doesn't use contractions. Which I already know. Because, well, I’ve been a ST:TNG fan since the day it first aired on TV. I don't even know what to do with a comment that, to be honest. I kind of feel sorry for the other person for not grasping the joke.

So, how DO you compliment someone whose work you enjoy? Imagine yourself speaking to them in person. Imagine that they are emotionally invested in whatever they have created. Consider your objective. Are you expressing appreciation? Or is there something else going on.

And avoid qualifiers. 

When a compliment includes words like "if" or "but" then it's probably not a compliment. You would be so pretty IF you lost some weight is not a compliment.

Choose words that are unlikely to be misinterpreted. 

If someone's art or writing IS improving and you really want them to know, a good way to do that is to use the word evolving. Wow, I really like the way your art is evolving. This works because it implies that the art is changing over time, as the individual grows as a person.

I know what some of you might be thinking...ugh...it's like you can't say ANYTHING anymore! Aww...boo hoo, fam. As a person on the spectrum, I’ve spent my entire life dancing around other people’s feelings, navigating neurotypical subtext and struggling to say things without offending anyone. This is a cake walk compared to that. And I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if actually thinking about how other people feel BEFORE you share your opinion would require a great deal of effort on your part, it's possible that you're just an asshole.

TL;DR

Creators of original content are actual human beings with feelings. Don’t offer them unsolicited advice or criticism. Think before you comment.

[lovemesomesurveys]

Do you and your parents like any of the same bands/singers?  Yeah, especially my mom and I. Is there any food in your bedroom? Just my ramen bowl from last night that I haven’t taken out, yet, but it’s empty. Do you know anyone who has road rage? Yes. How expensive is too expensive for a pair of shoes?  I admit to liking my Adidas, which are pricy, but the kind I get are at least under a $100. How far away do your grandparents live from you? They live in another state, about a 12 hour drive away.

What kinds of cereal are in the cupboard? I think there’s just Cinnamon Cheerios at the moment. My family and I don’t really eat cereal much anymore.  Is there anything related to cats in your bedroom?  No. Whats the last thing you spent over 10$ on?  Stuff from Bath & Body Works. They have their fall/Halloween collection in and I just had to get some stuff. Over 30$?  ^^^^ Do you know who lives three houses down from you?  Nope. Do you think Canadians all really love maple syrup? Do they Lane? lol. I’m not Canadian, but I do love maple syrup.  Is there a bulletin board in your room?  Yep. Is your mom a big health freak or your dad? Or neither? Neither of them really are, but out of the two my mom is more than my dad. My dad has a major sweet tooth and he likes his junk food.  Easter or Halloween? I enjoy both. Do you know anyone who wants to be the president one day? No. What kinds of chips are in the cupboards?  I don’t think we have any at the moment. Do you have your moms or dads hair?  I have my dad’s hair color, but my mom’s waviness. She actually had curly hair and has all my life, but she says when she was a kid and teenager it was wavy and then it became curlier as she got older.  Whats the first thing you see when you walk into your bedroom? The 4ft giraffe stands out a lot.  Have you ever skipped history class?  In college I probably did sometimes. I didn’t make a habit of missing class, but it happened now and then either because I didn’t feel well or just didn’t feel up to it that day. I always made sure I knew what was going on that day (like nothing had to be handed in that day or there wasn’t a quiz or exam, of course) and thankfully because of the syllabus I could keep up with the reading and assignments. I just allowed myself to miss a day or two. Do you own any yellow clothes?  I have a yellow shirt and a yellow Adidas hoodie. Do you have any friends who have naturally red hair?  I have a cousin who does. Have you ever cried when a teacher retired?  No, but I cried on the last day of 4th grade because I just really liked my teacher lmao. Everyone loved him, he was awesome. It was cool because he ended up being an 8th grade teacher later on and I got to have him again. Does your kitchen looks like it was designed in a completely different decade? No. Whens the last time you wore heels?  Never. Do you have your moms or dads eyes?  My mom’s.  Is there anything shiny in the room youre in?  Yeah. Whats the best date movie? I wouldn’t know. How long has your current best friend been your best friend? All 31 years of my life. Have your parents ever been out of the country? Yes, they’ve both been to Italy before I was born and I’m super jealous. Actually, my mom went once when she was pregnant with me so I kinda went haha. I’d like to experience it for real one day. Are you older then the last person you laughed with?  Yes. How many pairs of jeans, all together, are in your house? I am not even going to attempt to figure that out. Do you swear and yell while playing video games?  No. Would you rather name your daughter Andrea or Eva?  Not having kids, but I do like the name Andrea. Is there any alcohol in the fridge?  I think there is. If you had to get up at 6am tomorrow morning, would it be painful? I’d be up considering I don’t even go to bed until like 7/8AM. :X Have you ever seen the last person you watched TV with drunk?  Yeah. Has a best friend ever ditched you for a girlfriend/boyfriend?  I had a friend do that. Would you rather get a new brother or sister? No new siblings at this point. My mom had a hysterectomy anyway, so unless she’s adopting, which she’s not, it’s not happening.  Do you have anything in your room youve had for ten years or more?  A lot of things. Do your pets chase after bugs?  My doggo chases flies sometimes lol. She sees me going after them with the fly swatter and she tries to help.  Would you ever kiss the last person who messaged you on facebook/MSN/etc? No. Do eat at home or in restaurants more? Well, I haven’t ate out at a restaurant since February. We do a lot of takeout, though. We did that a lot even before all this, I prefer it. Whens the last time you were so excited you couldnt sleep? Why?  Back in February the night before my Disneyland trip. Audrey Hepburn or Audrey Kicthing?  Hepburn. I’ve never even heard of Audrey Kitching.  Do you e-mail more often then you talk on MSN/AIM?  I don’t know about MSN, which I’ve never had, but AIM hasn’t been a thing for awhile. It’s been over a decade anyway since I’ve used it. I don’t email either, except recently to try and dispute a charge. If your best friends birthday was next week, what would you get them? Well, her birthday is actually next month so I’ve been thinking about what to get her. What is your moms favorite movie? Grease haha. <<< Ha, that’s one of my mom’s faves as well. How much older is your dad then you?  He’s 27 years older than me. What TV family reminds you of your own family?  Hmm. Do you own any flip-flops? Nope. I don’t wear flip flops, sandals, slip ons, or any open toed shoe. Did you ever really believe that the stork brought babies? Nah, my parents didn’t tell me that. Do you have any relatives who really spoil you?  My parents. Are there any drawers in your house that are just filled with junk?  Yeah, we have the designated junk drawer. I personally have a few :X Is the last person you spoke to in love?  Not that I know of. How far away is Chicago from where you live?  It’d be a 32 hour drive and like a 4 hour nonstop flight. Do you know anyone who always looks perfect? Who? I think my mom does. She likes to wear makeup, but I truly don’t think she needs it. I’m also super envious of her flawless skin, which I sadly didn’t get. Do you know anyone who has security cameras in their house?  Yeah. Do you think Zac Efron is really that good looking?  Eh, honestly I’ve never really found him attractive. What was the last movie to make you cry?  Hmm. I’m blanking at the moment. Has anyone you know ever pulled the fire alarm in school, joking around?  No. Who was the main character in the last book you read? Her name is Emma Griffin.  Is the last person you said goodbye to single?  One of them is. Who are the last people you saw kiss?  People on the show I was watching. Have you ever posted a fan fiction on a website?  No. Do you ever fantasize about your future wedding? Whos the bride/groom? Nope. I don’t plan on ever getting married. I’m also not the person who has dreamt of their wedding since they were little. Chapstick or lipgloss? Chapstick. I like ones with a tint of color. What was the last unplesant thing to wake you up?  A nightmare. Do you have any friends who are ALWAYS kissing their bf/gf?  Does that get annoying? Would you rather look at clouds or stars?  Stars. If you could trade appearances with the last person you hugged, would you?  Like I said, I’m super envious of my mom’s flawless skin and I think she looks beautiful with or without makeup. Do you have any relatives who are expecting a baby really soon?  No. Do you ever wonder what the opposite sex do at sleepovers?  Probably play video games, watch movies, and eat. When you get married, who will be the maid of honor/best man?  Sigh. Does your best friend get along with their parents? This same question was in a previous survey I just did. Anyway, yeah she was very close with them when they were alive, but sadly they both have passed away. :( If you were to walk to Florida from where you live, would it take long? Uh, yeah. I live in California and Florida is all the way across on the opposite side. According to Google it would take 912 hours to walk there! Do you understand why 'To kill a mockingbird' is called what it is? I know I learned about the reason why, but I don’t recall. Okay, so I just Googled it because I was curious and yep the explanation is what I was told. When's the last time you broke plans? Why? It’s been a few years now since I’ve had plans, but I started having to cancel and not make plans at all because of health stuff and just for the fact I was really going through a hard time. Have you ever been in a wedding? What were you?  Nope. Would you feel safer with an alarm systen or security camera? Both. Does the last person you touched smoke?  No. Do you know someone who is CONSTANTLY texting? Does that annoy you?  It only annoys me when I’m trying to talk to them because so often they’re too focused on whatever they’re doing on their phone. Does it matter to you what kind of shampoo you use?  Yeah. Rate this survey from 1 to 5 (1 worst, 5 best):  I don’t like rating stuff, but it was fine.

[bipeterparker]

(2/2) and there’s a difference btw having a crush on percy or whoever when ur a kid and he’s a kid bc WE WERE KIDS but i just know ppl are gonna be weird abt it and i’m not looking forward to it. like already ppl are being like “nico my gay baby uwu” when nico is EVEN YOUNGER than percy so yeah. don’t get me wrong i’m super excited for the nostalgia factor and everything but i think the fandom now needs to realise that we’ve grown up and frankly i think a lot of ppl on here aren’t ready for that

i didn’t get the first ask you sent since i’m only seeing this 2/2 one but i think i get what you’re saying! i agree, i’m worried about older fans trying to get weirdly involved in the show when it’s gonna be twelve year olds as the characters. personally i’m gonna watch it for the nostalgia but i really won’t be commenting on anything romantic between like percy and annabeth because for one, they’re literally kids and they might’ve had crushes early on but they weren’t even dating until the last book when they were still just teenagers, and two, because it’s weird for adults to be so involved in kids like that? like i remember stranger things lmao it’s disturbing to see adult fans getting way to involved in romance between kids like that, so obviously i won’t be a part of that for any media, including pjo.

and i totally get what you’re saying too - personally i haven’t seen anyone saying those things about nico but i definitely believe you because there are freaks on here. people that talk like that in general are annoying in the least but in the worst sense are literal creeps who need to leave kids fictional or not alone.

i think a lot of us are very nostalgic for pjo because we read it when we were the same age as those kids and we grew up with them. i think it’s okay to be excited for a new show and to see our favorite scenes on the screen. i do think there is a lot of harmless excitement about seeing things we went crazy over in our childhood, but in a new light. that being said, i do completely agree that we as adults need to be careful about how we watch the show and what we decide to comment on. the fact is it wil be a largely young audience because it’s disney and because it’s aimed for a younger dynamic, not to mention the actors will be aged appropriate. we shouldn’t be making comments that are inappropriate for our ages and that can directly affect the kids watching these shows.

anyway that was a lot but overall i don’t think older fans should be shoved out of watching the show and genuinely enjoying it but i do agree that we shouldn’t be weird about the kids in general or their relationships

[luninosity]

Working on that Character Bleed sequel...Leo needs some hugs.

#

Voices murmured. Celebrity wranglers. Staff. Telling him to come along, to come in, they were about to start.

 “Wait—” Leo said. “Wait, I—there’s someone—”

 “Someone you want to speak to?” The staff person checked her watch. “I’m sorry but we really don’t have time—if you give me a name I’ll try to arrange something after—”

 “Sam,” Leo whispered. Colby and Jason were heading his way, everyone else following, aiming for the entryway and the first-ever showing of this film, this epic love tale— “Sam Hernandez-Blake. I don’t know if—I only thought I saw—but if he’s here…”

 “We’ll find him if he is.” She set a hand on his arm. “This way, please.”

 Leo went, obediently. He took a seat in the reserved row, and smiled at Jim and Tim and Katie as they plopped down beside him. He leaned around to say to Colby, “If Jason’s shoulders don’t fit in these antique seats I’m sure they can bring in another option,” because Colby was looking a little anxious, though whether that was about the crowds or the film Leo wasn’t sure.

 “I like the seats,” Colby said, holding Jason’s hand. “I like the velvet.”

 “Of course you do. Secret hedonist. Which I knew you were. Anyone who likes cheese that much obviously also likes velvet.”

 “I don’t even pretend to know,” Jason rumbled, “how your mind works.”

 “Darling.” Leo batted eyelashes at him. “You couldn’t comprehend it. No need to try.” The eyelash-batting was also an excuse to twist round and peek back at the theatre. No, too many people, all finding seats and shuffling around. Too difficult to pick out one man.

 “Yeah,” Jason said, “incomprehensible sounds about right. If you’re still looking for your annoying paparazzi guy, we can try to find him for you. People tell Colby everything.”

 “I’m not,” Leo denied immediately. “No need to invoke Colby’s superpowers on my behalf. Actually, no, never mind, invoke them. Get someone to tell you where I can find the best chocolate martini in London. Then make them bring us all a round.”

 “His name was Sam, wasn’t it?” Colby’s smile was a gift: quiet and lordly and generous. “That must’ve meant something, if you’re thinking about him after all this time. We’d like to help, if it’s important.”

 “Don’t,” Leo muttered, embarrassment now eating a hole through his chest. Colby and Jason had enough to worry about; they didn’t need to be concerned over his wistfulness about a man he’d likely only imagined in any case. “You don’t have to—”

 Tim leaned over to hiss, “All of you shut up, come on, I’m supposed to be the dramatic teenager here, and Jill’s getting up to make a speech!”

 “Sorry!” Colby said, to which everyone rolled eyes—Colby, out of them all, had the least to apologize for—but no one had time to scold him, because Jillian was indeed getting up on stage, grinning ear to ear.

 In pink and black ruffles and leather straps, a casual rock-star director with freshly re-touched color in her hair, she looked younger than half of them—she wasn’t, Leo knew—and utterly thrilled to be here; that was Jillian Poe, Leo knew. Someone who loved her profession and her craft, and the stories she got to shape and oversee and offer to the world. He’d been fortunate in getting to work with her; he hoped to again.

 If she’d liked working with him. If she thought Leo Whyte was worth having around, on a film set. If.

 Jill thanked everyone for coming, briefly introduced the film, mentioned how passionate they’d all been about this project. Hearts and souls committed. A love story that needed telling. A history brought to light. She kept it quick, and sat back down.

 Passionate, Leo thought. Had he been?

 He’d loved the story, of course. Stephen and Will were brilliant central characters, and their love mattered, and the script had been among the best he’d ever read. He’d wanted to be a part of it and he’d wanted to work with Jillian Poe and Colby Kent.

 But he hadn’t loved it the way Colby had, the kind of love that’d read the source novel multiple times and wept over it and rewritten it. He hadn’t been so caught up in character that he’d cracked on set and begun crying for his near-death fictional other half, the way Jason had.

 Maybe Leo Whyte just wasn’t good at love. Not epic. Too shallow. A puddle, not a towering ocean.

 Leo Whyte fell out of boats and laughed about it. Leo Whyte spent off hours orchestrating a delivery of a nineteen-eighties vintage mermaid-comedy movie poster to tease his director about an early crush. Leo Whyte did not have deep conversations with silver-screen legends like Sir Laurence Taylor. What would they talk about? The time Leo’d convinced set decorators to construct an entire second trailer around Matt Grant’s trailer, so that when he’d stepped out he’d still been inside? Matt had been a good sport and laughed. Sir Laurence would probably not laugh.

 Leo’s chest hurt slightly, a bizarre hollow ache. He did not like that feeling, so he watched his movie instead.

 On screen, he and Jason emerged into London streets: a captain and a loyal lieutenant, facing the wilds of polite Society. A mission. No less vital than those at sea: the desperate need for more men, more provisions, support from the Admiralty. Hence this ball: political connections, maneuvering, patronage.

 Leo spared a thought for how dashing he appeared in period naval attire—he really did look good in that coat, he decided—and then watched Jason acting.

 Jason Mirelli was good. Leo saw that in a heartbeat: a man of action, certainly, but the action-hero label would never be all that Jason was, not after tonight. Not with that complicated and contradictory emotion: Stephen’s loathing of aristocratic games and awareness that he himself needed to play them, and the secret he hid about the directions of his desires.

 Leo had had such fun playing off that broad-shouldered serious nuance. He could trust Jason to get the layers of a scene, a line, a simple glance of comprehension.

 He watched Colby appear on screen: bright and scholarly and sickly, enthusiastic about frogs and mathematics, afraid of nothing other than running out of time. The audience made appreciative noises about Colby’s beauty: bathed in sunshine, in a meadow, shirt fluttering open.

 The film shimmered, and soared, and sizzled where it should, and swept them all away like sails full of wind, breathless.

 Leo watched Jason and Colby flee a ballroom and run through a door and tumble into a historic library, hands and mouths busy, finding each other; he knew how hard that scene would’ve been, back when Colby did not like being touched, when even now roughness might hurt in less physical ways. He saw Stephen and Will coming together; he saw Colby trusting Jason, on camera.

 That odd tiny ache poked him in the chest again. Not big, not hard. A small knitting-needle. A pointed tip. Not worth paying any mind.

 He hoped Sam had come. He hoped Sam liked this film. It was good, and he was proud of it, and he’d given his all to the character of Richard, supporting Jason’s Captain Stephen Lanyon in battle and in love. He hoped that’d been enough.

 On screen, Richard drank some port, chatted with a lord, glanced around for his missing captain. The moment was mildly funny, mildly sweet, a bit wry: Stephen’s falling in love was not, after all, their mission. And Richard would stay in the ballroom and attempt to navigate those tricky political waters, and draw no attention to his captain’s vanishing with the Stonebrook heir.

 The moment worked, multilayered if quick. Leo thought that he’d managed it well. He wanted to believe that he had.

[latter-day-saint-nick]

I should probably ignore this, but I’m feeling petty today.

I’ll address your second point first. The reason I singled out Moffat is because I’ve been annoyed with his work since Doctor Who, a show that I loved before he took over and the writing went downhill. My tag “flipping Moffat” is an in-joke between my wife and me. We started saying it in response to Moffat’s bad writing and dangling plot-threads on Doctor Who, but then went on to use that phrase jokingly whenever a piece of fiction has bad continuity and makes no sense, even when Moffat isn’t involved. Many of his worst qualities as a writer are on full display in Dracula: bad continuity, queerbaiting, dialogue that tries too hard to sound clever, clear contempt for the source material, poor attempts at female empowerment that just come off as sexist, male protagonists who are so much better and more important than everyone else. Since Moffat worked with Gatiss on both this and Sherlock, it’s safe to assume that Gatiss is just as bad of a writer as he is, but I can’t muster up the same hate towards him, simply because I know less about him. I don’t know what Gatiss’s personal views are like, but I have read plenty of interviews with Moffat where he says incredibly sexist and just generally gross things. So, yeah, screw Moffat and his relentless misogyny!

As to your first point, look, you’re allowed to disagree with my views, but saying that I shouldn’t be allowed to engage in media criticism is just rude. Especially when you don’t even bring up any counterarguments as to why I’m wrong apart from that the lead actor was hot. And you are absolutely allowed to enjoy trashy television because it has attractive people in it. Just like I’m allowed not to enjoy it.

Not to brag, but... okay, yeah, I’m totally saying this to brag, but I literally have a PhD in literature. Media criticism is kind of my thing. No, my rant was not on the level of an academic essay, but it wasn’t meant to be. My aim was mainly to be entertaining, which is why I used a joking tone throughout, even inserting some of the funny comments my wife and I made while watching the show.

But the fact that I have a PhD doesn’t even matter, because you didn’t just say that my critique was invalid, but that every person on Tumblr’s critique is. Why is that? Is it because there’s a lot of teenagers on this website? Teenagers may not have as much nuance in their media criticism than someone with more experience and education, but we all have to start somewhere, and just because someone’s young doesn’t mean they have nothing worthwhile to say. As far as I know, there’s no sign in front of fandom that says, “You must be this old for your opinion to matter.”

Have I seen bad media criticism on Tumblr? Sure. But I’ve also seen a lot of good, thoughtful discussions. I follow a lot of blogs that examine issues like sexism, racism and homophobia in media. Invariably, they get a bunch of hateful comments from people who think they’re over-analyzing or that they’re hurting the fandom by discussing racism. And this is kind of the vibe I’m getting from your comments, which is why they rankle me so much. Like I should just shut up about the problematic writing and let you enjoy your sexy vampires. (I apologize if I’m misunderstanding your intent here.)

Because while I mostly made fun of the bad continuity and the nonsensical plot, I did also touch on aspects I found troubling. Like queerbaiting. Literally one of the first lines of the show is, “Did you have sexual intercourse with Dracula?” Sister Agatha later explains that any contact with Dracula - including sexual - could have caused Jonathan’s condition, so there was no reason for her to phrase the question in such an asinine manner other than to tease LGBT+ audiences. And, no, the fact that Lucy has a stereotypical gay best friend in episode 3 does not make it okay. I talked about how Lucy’s characterization felt like a shallow attempt at female empowerment when it really just made her less sympathetic, because it showed her to be self-centred and vain. Which I feel is bad, sexist writing for a character we’re supposed to care about. Even making Van Helsing a woman came off as a shallow attempt at female empowerment when it seemed like the whole reason for the gender-swap was so she and Dracula could be shown in bed together at the end without it being gay. Maybe you disagree that showing Lucy being painfully and horribly burned alive was racist. I mean, in isolation the scene is still disturbing, but maybe not indicative of anything more. But taken together with the treatment of Bill Potts in Doctor Who it does present a troubling trend. Does Moffat (and Gatiss) actively hate black women and want them to suffer? No, probably not. But there is a subconscious bias in society that black women can take more pain than other women, and this shows up in the way they are treated in fiction. This is not a problem unique to Moffat, as the companion who was put through the most crap before Bill Potts was Martha Jones, another black woman. And this was during Davis’s era of Doctor Who.

So, believe or not, I actually put a lot of thought into my silly Dracula post. If you want to have a discussion about points you disagree with, that’s fine. But don’t just go around telling people that they shouldn’t be allowed to express their opinion.

[ladyherenya]

Books read in July

After I read How to Find Love in a Bookshop, I searched the library’s catalogue for other titles containing “bookshop” or “bookstore”. I was curled up in bed with a bad cold at the time, which meant I ended up choosing a bunch of books whose covers or synopses would have, on a different day, put me off. And that worked out rather well!

But afterwards I felt like I didn’t get the right balance between contemporary fiction and fantasy this month.

Favourite cover: Minor Mage by T. Kingfisher.

Still reading: The Hazel Wood by Melissa Albert.

Next up: Mort by Terry Pratchett. Maybe The Queens of Innis Lear by Tessa Gratton.

(Longer reviews and ratings are on LibraryThing. And also Dreamwidth.)

– (they’ve taken away page breaks) –

Things a Map Won’t Show You: stories from Australia & Beyond, edited by Susan La Marca and Pam Macintyre: I borrowed this because I recognised some of the names involved. I liked bits and pieces of it but nothing really stood out. Maybe Peta Freestone’s “Milford Sound”, for the setting. According to the introduction, the stories and poems were chosen “with the curriculum in mind and for their appeal to Year Seven and Eight readers”. That’s a valid reason but I suspect that approach is unlikely to result in a collection that would really appeal to me, not me now and not even when I was a young teenager.

A Thousand Sisters: The Heroic Airwomen of the Soviet Union in World War II by Elizabeth Wein: This is AMAZING. It is aimed at young people, and I wondered if I’d find the writing style too simplistic, but it was just remarkably accessible. I knew bits about Russia’s history but this gave me a much more comprehensive understanding of the culture and politics these women grew up with, and how Russia came to have three regiments of airwomen at a point in time when other countries wouldn’t let women fly into war. The rest of the book is just as fascinating and surprising. Wein knows how to tell a story.

How to Find Love in a Bookshop by Veronica Henry: This is about Emilia, who inherits her father’s bookshop in a picturesque Cotswold village, and the bookshop’s customers. It doesn’t shy away from Emilia’s grief but otherwise is very much a cosy, optimistic story in which friends are made, relationships are mended, mistakes are overcome and everything turns out all right. Which definitely has its appeal. I wanted just a few more sharp edges -- or else slightly more uncertainty -- so that everyone’s happy endings felt more realistic. (I keep brainstorming ways that could have been managed.) Although I didn’t love this book, there was a lot I liked about it. 

The Masquaraders by Georgette Heyer (narrated by Ruth Sillers): This is ridiculous but still quite entertaining. Either I missed something or Heyer doesn’t really do a great job of explaining why Prudence and her brother Robin need to be in disguise, nor why they’ve decided the best way to do this is by crossdressing. The key to enjoying this book was to just roll with it. Also Prue’s romantic interest is a type Heyer writes so well: perceptive, unflappable, competent, with a sense of humour and an appreciation for level-headedness in others. Sensible people pushed into madcap adventures is something Heyer has a flair for.

The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle: It’s much more dreamlike than I was expecting, in a similar vein to Patricia A. McKillip’s fantasy. I was emotionally invested only in flickers and bursts, but I appreciated the way it plays with, and comments on, fairytales. Quests may not simply be abandoned; prophecies may not be left to rot like unpicked fruit; unicorns may go unrescued for a very long time, but not forever. The happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story.

The Bookstore by Deborah Meyler: Esme, a British scholarship student studying art history at Columbia, discovers she’s pregnant and gets a job at a quirky secondhand bookshop. I would have found some of her choices -- and the book itself -- terribly frustrating, except I really liked the bookshop and Esme’s narration. I liked her quotes and references and her enthusiasm and her observations, especially those about living in New York and about the shop -- this is a story with a vivid sense of place. Esme’s naivety and optimism is both understandable and believable, and I wanted to see her finally, properly, free of her awful boyfriend. 

The “Happy Ever After Bookshop” books by Annie Darling:

The Little Bookshop of Lonely Hearts: If I hadn’t already read the second book about the Happy Ever After bookshop and liked it a lot, I probably wouldn’t have bothered reading this. The romantic interest annoyed me -- he’s not a bad match for Posy, but I’d find him infuriating in person and I didn’t want to read about him. Fortunately the book is just from Posy’s POV. I enjoyed the Britishness, and the bits about running a bookshop. I particularly liked Posy’s relationship with her younger teenaged brother, whom she has responsibility for. And I was pleased the romance bookshop stocks appropriate YA and mystery titles.

True Love at the Lonely Hearts Bookshop: I was expecting it to turn into the sort of romance which annoys me. To my delight, it did not! Verity loves her noisy family, her nosy friends, her job in a bookshop and reading romances but she believes she isn’t suited to being in a romantic relationship. She reluctantly agrees to a fake-dating situation to avoid friends trying to set her up. I loved the way this story shows Verity being an introvert, and her obvious love for Pride and Prejudice. And this has all the things I like about fake-dating without too much cringe-worthy deception.

Crazy in Love at the Lonely Hearts Bookshop: I have less in common with Nina than I do with her colleagues: she’s into make-up, tattoos and Wuthering Heights. But it was interesting seeing why she’s embraced both Wuthering Heights and her own particular style so fiercely -- she’s finding her own path, one that differs from what her conservative working class family expected. Some of the resolutions came about a bit too easily. However, I liked getting a different perspective on the bookshop, I enjoyed bits of her romance with Noah, and I share some of Nina’s fascination with the Bronte sisters.

A Winter Kiss on Rochester Mews:  Mattie runs the tearooms attached to the Happy Ever After bookshop. She is delighted about living above the bookshop, but not so impressed about her new flatmate. I’m not a fan of the crazy commercialism of Christmas, but really enjoyed reading about it here -- probably because the story recognises that not everybody loves it. And, given the weather, I was in the mood for something wintry. Other things I liked: the vivid portrayal of the challenges of working “in a customer-facing environment over Christmas”; the details about Mattie’s baking; and the intelligent commentary about romance novels and romantic relationships.

Allegra in Three Parts by Suzanne Daniel: Eleven year old Allegra lives with one grandmother, next door to the other, while her father lives in above the garage. Allegra knows her grandmothers love her, but they are very different. “Sometimes I wish they could just love me less and take what's left over and put it into liking each other a little bit more.” The initial mystery and conflict were slightly stronger than the answers and aftermath. But it’s an interesting portrayal of growing up in Sydney in the 70s, the women’s liberation movement, and of a family dealing with grief. I read it in practically one sitting.

We Rule the Night by Claire Eliza Bartlett (narrated by Chloe  Cannon): Revna’s father is a traitor. Linné’s father is a general. Revna is discovered protecting herself with illegal magic during an air-raid. Linné is discovered after three years fighting at the front disguised as a boy. They’re both sent to a new women’s Night Raiders regiment, where, if they are to survive this war, they have to learn to fly together. This is tense and captivating -- and nuanced. Magic is wondrous but also confronting, the Union is unjust but contains things worth defending, loyalties are not always predictable, difficult people can become valued friends, and not everything is neatly resolved.

The Way Past Winter by Kiran Millwood Hargrave: In the fifth year of winter, Mila and her sisters wake to find their brother has left. Sanna believes Oskar left them willingly, like their father once did, but Mila is convinced that Oskar was taken by last night’s unsettling visitors -- and is determined to rescue him. I didn’t find this as emotional and compelling as Hargrave’s previous books. I don’t know if that’s because this is a simpler narrative or because I didn’t listen to the audio book -- a good narrator adds liveliness and emotion. But Hargrave’s prose is lovely and I liked the fairytale quality this story has.

Grace After Henry by Eithne Shortall: I really enjoyed Love in Row 27, so I borrowed Shortall’s other novel. After her boyfriend dies, Grace keeps seeing him everywhere. Then she meets a man who looks unnervingly like Henry -- a long-lost relative of Henry’s she did not know about. This story is funny and touching. I didn’t expect it to be so compelling, nor make me so invested in Grace’s relationship with Henry. There’s a strong sense of history and of place -- it was interesting to read about contemporary Dublin. There are unexpected and hopeful developments in Grace’s life. But mostly, it’s just very sad.

Famous in a Small Town by Emma Mills: Sophie loves her friends, her high school’s marching band and her small town. She has an idea for how the band could raise money -- enlisting the help of a famous country singer. I liked Sophie’s deep sense of belonging and how much she cares about things. She’s very kind in a way that is realistic and realistically complicated. Her friends are very supportive, but believably so. They all have flaws and make mistakes and have their secrets. I really enjoyed this story about friendship and summer (and it was a good choice after reading something sad).

Can’t Escape Love by Alyssa Cole: I’ve tried a couple of Cole’s novels and they didn’t appeal to me -- I wouldn’t have considered this novella if I hadn't seen a positive review. It’s fun and fandom-y and diverse. Reggie contacts an old internet acquaintance after she discovers his puzzle livestreams are no longer online. I liked how it’s very clear that Reggie’s disability has a significant impact on her daily life, but has nothing to do with her current problems. And, for Gus, being autistic isn’t ever an obstacle to a relationship with Reggie. I would have liked to read more but this still satisfying.

The Orphans of Raspay, a novella in the World of the Five Gods by Lois McMaster Bujold: Penric’s ship is captured by pirates and he is thrown in a hold with a couple of young girls from Raspay. As always, I enjoyed Pen’s interactions with Desdemona. I would have enjoyed the story even more had there been more significant character interactions -- the girls aren’t quite old enough to play a very active role in escape plans but are old enough that, in terms of emotional support, they’re not very demanding. I’d like to see Pen challenged more. But this is still a solid adventure. I’m very glad that Bujold hasn’t finished telling stories about Pen and Des.

Minor Mage by T. Kingfisher (Ursula Vernon): Oliver, a twelve year old minor mage with an armadillo familiar, is sent by his village on a perilous journey to the mountains to bring back rain. There’s some dispute over whether this is a children’s book -- Vernon thought it was, her editor was adamant it wasn’t. It feelslike a children’s book to me, even when Oliver has to deal with ghuls, bandits and murderers. (There have always been children’s books which have been too dark and scary for some kids.) The tone is dryly humorous, the armadillo is a delight and I never doubted that Oliver would succeed.