#only difference between me and her is that I was so overwhelmingly scared of people thinking I was weird for my interests

[retrospectislame]

everyday that goes by I realize that my younger sister is exactly the kinda kid I was in elementary

[reinedescauchemars]

self-portrait of the author as odysseus

there is someone who has to go, who is compelled to leave by something greater, something perhaps divine, perhaps merely mortal, and there is someone they have to leave behind, saying "i'll be back soon, love, i promise" and everyone realizes not too long after that was a promise that could not be kept

there is someone who tries to return, who at first thinks there's better things to be found but soon discovers that, at the end of the day, all that's wanted is rest, and then again, that all that's longed for is the sweetness of rest in the arms of a lover, and there is someone who waits as the weeks turn into months and again into years

do you think odysseus loves penelope? is that why he leaves circe?

yes, i do, because i love her, and what is the point of stories if not to see yourself in other people? i see myself in the eyes of the coward-hero, who was never a good man, always lost when not at war, loved by wit but far too bold, and i love her, no matter how far away i am, no matter if another lies at my bosom, no matter how long i stay away

i think why he stayed so long with circe was to rest. he had been fighting for entirely too long, some of it his fault, because what is a warrior-king who has fought for ten long years to do when at last the fighting stops? of course, he fights again, he wants to live on in glory, his name a synonym for bravery, and here is a fight all to easy to win, gifted to him by his gods, and he wins and he can stay and he doesn't need to fight, he can stay in paradise. he can rest. he must go on, but in that peaceful moment, he can stay. rest makes you forget it all: if i could, i would stop to rest too

do we think we can trust his retelling of his own story?

no, i don't, because his survival depends on lying, and when you lie to live, you begin to lie all the time. we do not know what really happened to his men, but if that was the version that made him look good, imagine just how bad reality was

he is an absent king who could have come back sooner, he has left his wife and lost his men, his son is a grown man he has never met. he is only recognized by his dying dog. he can only justify this in tricks and lies; those falsehoods and deceits that kept him alive when in the depths of polyphemus's cave are his salvation and his undoing. why trust a liar?

those of us who are too well-accustomed to deceit know there are many different kinds of lies; some lies are told of malice and some of kindness, and when odysseus lies out of kindness, he is aiming to protect those he could not protect before. when he lies out of malice, well, he's just being an asshole, but overwhelmingly he doesn't lie to be cruel. he lies to be kind

we may not be able to trust him entirely, but we can still understand why he lies. if you extend him this compassion, then you can extend it to the rest of us who grew up knowing that each breath we took would be expelled into a fiction. such was the cost of our survival

would odysseus be a modern hero?

we all know we'd say no. he is too mean, too brutal, too sly, too naughty, too unfaithful to join the pantheon of modern heroes. he's a jerk, plain and simple, but he's also a complicated man. how does his story begin? the poet sings and asks the muses to sing through him the tale of someone polytropos, a word translated across time and place in many different ways

but look at the complications, the nuance, look at what we call complicated people these days. i know because i've heard it all. i scare people when they watch me switch between a version of me who has known only kindness and only knows how to help and their counterpart, the part of me that's known only hate and spews rage wherever they walk

unlike odysseus, this anger and spite doesn't have a concrete body count. but where his anger is praised, his murders are justified, mine renders me bad, wrong, something to be fixed. love redeems him but it won't redeem me. i don't rage to save my love from harm, i rage to save what's left of a broken life. does this difference matter? i think not. does it matter that he's a man and i am not? i think not, i think it matters that a greek hero isn't always a good person, but our modern heroes, they have to be good

and when you're not good what's left for you?

the backstory of a b-movie villain

watch him thread the arrow through the eyes of the axes, watch him slaughter his enemies in cold blood, and watch how you sanitize his story to call him a hero. you wouldn't do the same for me, why do it for him? why not just admit that times have changed?

erase all the shit he's done and it's a simple story: local man wronged by gods, gets stuck in a twenty-year time vortex, emerges alone and has to kick those foolish youth out of his home. erase all the shit and you've got a simple hero, put in all the shit he's done and you've got someone who can't be simplified, someone who does good and bad and knows it

there is someone who makes mistakes and has to make amends, there is someone who has to take matters into their own hands to be respected again, there is someone who has lost things that can't be regained

who's this about now? you or odysseus?

yes

[actualdraccus]

I realize I’ve reblogged two things in a row that are in line with my despair and determination in the wider world right now.

My roommate caught me staring into space over my dinner last night, and when he said I looked like I was deep in thought, I told him that I had started thinking about how things are. And specifically, that I am so lucky to have known my great grandfather and grandfather as long as I got to. There is a point and connection to this.

Great grandpa was a WWII vet. He signed up after Pearl Harbor happened, and we think he might have been on the cusp of being too young to technically do that. He might have lied about his age. I don’t know. But the point is that he as a boy (younger than I am now, to the point where I would look at a kid that old and call them a kid), went to war and saw the absolute depravity of humans. He saw the best and the worst of people on both sides, and spent the rest of his life regretting that the world had come to that, feeling that he had only done what he felt he must, and trying to challenge the prejudices that going through that time had given him. (I remember when I was maybe 13 or 14 and had mentioned to him that I was watching some anime that I brushed against what was certainly a very complicated emotion about the Japanese in general. It was a few months later that I learned that he was among those who got sent to the bomb sites after the fact, and that he therefore saw firsthand the terrible thing that we had done to them. I don’t think he ever really forgave the US for that, and I don’t think he forgave the order that sent a Japanese plane into his ship, either. He knew the pilot of that plane was just like him, though.)

My grandfather on the other side of the family was only 6 years younger than great grandpa. It was the six years that made a difference between going to the war and only being aware of it in a vague way. I never talked about this with him, but I think about it sometimes. I also sometimes think about how his parents chose to have two kids in the middle of the depression. And how his wife, my grandmother, is just enough younger than grandpa that when she was living in the time of the war, she asked her dad what would be on the news when the war was over, because she had never known anything else there.

And of course there have been other horrors since then. Other wars, other political agendas of control, other social movements—

And my parents never knew this sort of thing growing up. Even if when happened in their time, they were privileged enough not to be personally affected by it. We’re all living this one out together, and to be honest, I think they’re more scared for me and my brother than for themselves. So I guess they probably know, or at least think they know (in a way that matters), what it’s like to have been a young adult over the last… what, 6-10 years?

I say all this because I live every day with the kindness of individuals and sometimes the evil of policy. And because my grandparents and great grandparents didn’t even do most of their living in the worst times they’ve seen. They—every one of them—has found something fulfilling in life despite the doom they saw when they were young. Despite it!! They’ve lived happily! Normally! With all their delightful weirdness intact, and yes, alongside the trauma (personally and culturally) of having seen the things that are arguably the highest example of how terrible things can get. But they are proof enough to me that none of this—none of it—will be the permanent state of things. And it isn’t everything. Even when it feels overwhelmingly damning. It is not the only thing in life and it will not last forever.

I just felt the need to clear that up after passing along the sentiments of others in relation to this topic.

[kyoomiii]

♡ Burnt out [hcs]

-  ➣. . . ❝ Could you maybe do headcanons for literally any Haikyuu character/characters with an s/o who's just done with everything and exausted and feels like shit?❤ If that makes sense😂 Again I completely understand if you don't want to do this request!❤ ❞

― requested by: @bitweird1​ ―

- ✎ characters ❝ daichi, kuroo, and tsukishima ❞

- [ trigger warning(s): none ]

- ⚘ genre ❝ fluff, angst ❞

❝ i’m so excited~ this is my first request! but anyway, putting that aside i hope that all of you out there are doing well and if times are currently difficult for you, just know that there’s someone rooting for you. i’m not particularly good with words- which is ironic for someone who writes, but, i hope you can feel my support  through this hc~ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ❞

-kyo ♡

Life is always moving, it passes and waits for no one. And lately, as the school year draws to a close with tests upon tests cluttering your life, it’s been feeling like the days have merged into one, passing and passing with each one feeling exactly like the last.

As of tonight, you find that you’ve had enough...  Unable to cope much longer on your own in the dark confinements of your room.

Instead, you find yourself at his house- 12am on a school night. And though it seemed like a good idea at the time, the feeling of guilt seems to bloom in your chest the longer you stare at the doorbell. 

You knew from the beginning that Daichi is a busy man, the volleyball club, and his schoolwork, both something that he invests so much time and effort into, so surely he doesn’t have the time to deal with someone else’s problems, and with the little amount of sleep he does get, you feel bad stealing these precious hours away from him. 

But even so, you find the courage to press the bell, knowing full well that he is home alone.

The feeling of anxiety buzzes throughout your body as you wait for some sort of response. A gentle flutter filling your chest when you finally get one in the form of Daichi opening his front door, disheveled and confused.

“y/n? What are you doing here?”

However, no matter how hard you try to let it out… You just can’t. It’s like the words have been caught in your throat, hanging onto your cords and refusing to let go.

“I just- uh… I just missed you is all…”

Daichi cocks an eyebrow, and you can tell he finds it odd- perhaps not even believing what you have said. But nonetheless, he steps aside inviting you in, though not without a yawn as he rubs his eyes, highlighting the dark circles that have formed just beneath them. Once again you feel bad for intruding in on his time.

He leads you to his room, where he opens his blanket to you knowing full well that the both of you have school the next morning. 

Gladly, you accept crawling under his comforter with him and snuggling close because while it wasn’t exactly the reason why you were there, it was definitely something on your mind.

But even with the undeniable comfort that is his embrace and gentle touch as he traces your bare skin with his gentle touches, you still can’t fall asleep. No matter how long you close your eyes, or how many sheep you count, your mind is just racing. 

“y/n… why are you really here?”

Suddenly, everything you were holding in becomes overwhelmingly strong. It starts with small tears until you’re sobbing into his sheets.

And even then, you can’t bring yourself to just say it, but at the same time you don’t really need to, because he knows, and he understands.

Turning on the small bedside lamp, he pulls you into his lap. His hold becoming tighter than before as he rocks back and forth with you.

“Shhh… It’s okay.”

“I’m so tired Daichi... “

“I know… I’m here.”

All at once, you feel so much lighter.

The day seemed to drag on longer and longer with each passing minute. It was like one thing after another, something always weighing down on your shoulders from the moment you decided to get out of bed that morning.

You haven’t said anything, but Kuroo can see it from the moment he greeted you at the entrance of the school. He notices it in the way your shoulders tense up, and the way the corners of your lips twitch just the slightest as you try so hard to smile at him as if nothing were wrong… But he knows, and he refuses to let it slip.

“y/n, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing Tetsu, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah… I’m okay.”

He doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t push either, simply nodding at you as he grasps your hand in his own, intertwining your fingers together as he always does.

Though this time you notice that his grip is slightly tighter than usual, his thumb caressing the back of your hand gently, and for a moment, it appears as though everything eases and the weight of your world doesn’t feel so heavy.

But, it seems like all good things come to an end and the pressure on your shoulders return, only getting heavier and heavier throughout the day until you feel unable to truly be there as the lesson goes on, the teacher’s words flowing through your head and out your ear. 

You tell yourself repeatedly that it’ll be okay… And maybe, just maybe it will, but you can see past your own lies, and you can feel yourself slipping as the lecture portion of the class comes to an end.

“l/n?”

“May I please go to the bathroom?”

“Alright,  make it quick”

With hurried steps you leave the room that has grown insufferably small, head hung low as you avoid the gazes of your fellow peers, because you know he can see you from his seat just a couple of rows from your own, and that terrifies you.

However, despite your quick pace, you can’t seem to make it to the bathroom, because with each step the walls begin to close in, and with every breath, it seems that your lungs are set to fire. So instead you opt for the nearest empty staircase, hugging your knees to your chest as quiet sobs rip through your body.

Cupping a hand over your mouth to suppress your cries, you don’t notice the heartbroken look in Kuroo’s eyes when he sees your trembling figure.

Silently, he makes his way over to you, engulfing your body against his frame.

“Let it out…”

You finally do, removing your hand from your mouth to set your sobs free into his chest as he runs his fingers over your clothed back. He’s warm, and that eases your mind just a little.

“Tetsurou?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not fine…”

“I know… And that’s okay…I’ve got you...”

And he means it.

Tsukishima noticed the abnormalities in your behavior throughout the day. He saw it in the subtle strains as your words wavered, and your feigned smile, or the simple sharp intake of breath you took when your brows pinched together. And while most were oblivious to your behavior, he had caught all the oddities, docking each one down with a mental note as the day went on.

“Are you okay y/n? You seem… Different.”

“I’m fine Kei, don’t worry about me.”

“...If you say so.”

But now, as your finger’s lace with Tsukishima’s on the walk home together. He can feel the remaining tenseness that has been lingering in your body the whole day. He concludes that his suspicions were correct. You are not okay.

However despite this revelation, you can’t bring yourself to admit it, even as you think back to the bad grade on your math test or the group project, that has more so become a you project with the lack of effort your partner has put in. You feel as though it’ll all come crashing down when you finally give in, and that scares you.

The thought makes you inhale sharply. Your grip on his hand tightening just ever so slightly as your mind becomes so scattered that you don’t even notice his gentle squeeze in response.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I told you already, I’m okay."

A breath of relief that you didn’t even know you were holding is released at the sight of his home, which in this case has very much become one of the places you call home as well.

The familiar scent of his mother’s cooking fills your body as you enter the house, offering her a polite bow which she returns with a bright smile.

All these things have been embedded within you with how many times you’ve done them. So it’s all the more frustrating when this routine is broken in the form of this constant lingering of tangled negative emotions that have you tightening your grip on your pencil, threatening to snap it.

Tsukishima watches the way you slump over your work, your grip on the pencil tight before loosening until it clatters onto the table followed by a broken cry as you curl into yourself.

He doesn’t necessarily show it, but he can feel a piece of himself break along with you as he watches you crumble. Especially since he doesn’t exactly know what to do- he’s never been good with comforting people, not when he was young and not now.

And as you hear his footsteps around the room, you figure that he’s probably left, knowing that he must be a little overwhelmed too. But the sudden weight that’s placed over your shoulders surprises you causing you to look up, only to see that he had wrapped his (secret) favorite dinosaur comforter around you.

Hesitantly, he brings you into his arms, settling you between his legs as he rests his chin upon your head letting you cry into the fabric of the blanket.

It’s in his comforting warmth that you find the courage to finally admit what’s bothering you.

“It feels like everything is going wrong- I try so hard and it feels like everything just breaks… I’m so exhausted Kei.”

He listens silently, letting you vent out your emotions into the quiet space because he wants you to feel heard and safe.

“You are the most capable person I know. All anyone can ever do is their best y/n… And sometimes it doesn’t work out, that’s just life… But I’ll be damned if I let you experience that on your own.”

“Thank you Kei… I love you”

“... I love you too.”

[ti-bae-rius]

My thoughts on sex in YA books

Aka I will be furious if people use this to paint me maliciously.

CW for sex, genitalia mentions, HIV/AIDS mentions, masturbation, brief discussion of my personal experience of grooming

Prefaces: I don’t support underage sex. I don’t support sexualising minors. I had some very gross experiences as a teenager I wouldn’t want to happen to other people.

So, I’m currently in training with a charity to become a sex educator in U.K. schools. This means I’m the person who comes in, with a dildo and a condom, and shows you how to wrap up. This can happen from any age and we obviously tailor the experience to the age we’re teaching. We teach primary school kids the words for their genitals, how to practise consent in non-sexual scenarios. We also teach senior school young people that sex isn’t the way it looks in porn, that condoms are important for sex even if it isn’t penises in vaginas, and lots of other stuff.

I’m particularly invested because, for disabled and queer kids, this is a really unhelpful practise mostly. Most PSHE classes are like “penis goes in vagina, wear a condom or you’ll get pregnant” or, if you went to a school like mine “don’t have sex before marriage. Google pictures of STDs (yes they still called them that) and scare yourself out of having sex forever”.

So what we tend to use as a way of talking to young people is the media; books, shows, films, anything that we can show them that will promote a healthy discussion and make it accessible to them. We use a combination of all these to craft individual lessons for different age groups.

We talk about the realism and influence of porn, laws around sexting, and portrayals of sex in the media. A show that proves very popular with older kids (though we don’t show it to them as it’s an 18 and we only show 15 rated movies as the highest rating to our oldest students) is Sex Education.

Oh my god Sex Ed has helped SO many of our young people. Would I recommend it to 12 year olds? No, obviously not. But for the 16-18 year olds, it’s not unusual for one of them to bring up Sex Education.

If you asked my generation, or people a little older than me, they’d probably point to Judy Blume books as their own “Sex Education”. For people who don’t know, Blume wrote YA books that covered topics like menstruation, masturbation, and sexuality. Her books have been banned A LOT because of this.

There’s a really excellent old video from John Green (yeah yeah I know people don’t like him on tumblr but it’s an excellent video so) called I Am Not a Pornographer about the banning of his book Looking for Alaska.

This is all to say that it’s not uncommon for us to ban books that are aimed at teenagers that include sex. And what effect does that have? Overwhelmingly, not a great one. In training, we’re shown case studies of children who have had allegations of sexual misconduct ignored because they’ve used obscure words for their genitalia that parents have taught them to be polite. We have girls (SO MANY GIRLS) look appalled at the idea they might masturbate because that’s a BOY thing, that’s what BOYS do, we can’t do that - that’s dirty! We have people who don’t know that condoms aren’t just for penis-in-vagina sex. We have so much misunderstanding. Why? We expose children to the wrong kinds of sexuality.

Young people will find sexual material. That’s a fact. It’s online everywhere. Most easily-accessible porn is not ethically made nor made to show real people having real sex in a healthy manner. But that’s most people’s first example of sex.

If we condemn sexuality in YA books, we put young people at massive risk. I’m not saying let’s put some nipple clamps in Percy Jackson and have Harry Potter be really into BDSM. What I’m saying is that young people need to see healthy, respectful, consensual relationships in books. We need books that show consent as something that isn’t inherently sexual.

The first book I read where I saw a condom being used in sex between two people with penises was in Running With Lions by Julian Winters.

The first show I saw where autistic people were shown to have sex drives was Everything’s Gonna Be Okay.

We can’t shelter young people from sex. We’ve done that, and what’s happened? We’ve had generations of people who refuse to talk about it, and have unwittingly endangered not only themselves but others.

I’m a trainee sex educator and I didn’t know about undetectable = untransmittable until I read Full Disclosure - a YOUNG ADULT book about a teen who is HIV positive.

I was at risk because of this. I let people who had no right to my body and my emotions manipulate me because I didn’t know any better. I wasn’t taught any better. I went to a Christian school where all I knew was sex could hurt me. So when an older adult showed me affection, who could blame me for assuming it was fine?

We need to stop acting like “sex” is a dirty word. Not talking about sex to young people doesn’t make them not have sex - it makes them have uninformed, dangerous sex.

Yes of course there are lines to draw. Yes of course not every book gets it right. Yes of course we need to be extremely critical.

But this gross thing going on right now where we say “adults writing YA where their of-age characters have consensual, safe, healthy sex is wrong” is doing nothing but damage.

What we need to say is, here are some really excellent examples of books that get it RIGHT. So here are some of those:

Full Disclosure by Camryn Garrett

Running With Lions by Julian Winters

Red, White, and Royal Blue (NEW ADULT) by Casey McQuiston

History Is All You Left Me by Adam Silvera

The Miseducation of Cameron Post by Emily M. Danforth

So, in summary:

- Age appropriate exposure to romance and sexuality is imperative for the safety and development of young people

- Adults writing this material isn’t creepy - it just so happens that most people who write books are adults. Also, it’s hard to write about something when you’re right in the middle of it and haven’t quite got it figured out yet.

- I will personally attack you if you try and in any way, shape, or form use this to paint me as someone I’m not.

[livingforthewhump]

Ooooooo do you think you could do “Please don’t leave me” for BTHB?

Also requested by @nightfrostshadow

Blue for requested; red for posted.

First Previous Next

—

Caroline was on her knees, eyes following Paladin as he circled around her. Her back and legs ached from keeping still in the awkward position, but her hammering heart held her still. Paladin brushed a hand lightly across her shoulder blades, just to see what would happen, and she flinched.

“I think it’s about time you give the world another show, don’t you?” He leaned in to speak into her ear, and she closed her eyes against it. His hand grabbed the top of her head, turning her face towards him. “I asked you a question, doll.”

“Arguing with you gets me nowhere,” she muttered, venom in her eyes, “but I won’t stoke your ego.”

He smiled. “We’ll see about that. Learning these lessons takes time, but I’m sure you’ll come around.”

He released her and moved in front of her, eyes studying her submissive figure. “I must say, you look good like this, doll.”

“And you’d look good behind bars.”

Paladin laughed. “I’d look good anywhere. And I thought you said arguing with me got you nowhere.”

“Well now you’ve just annoyed me.”

He hummed, moving towards her suddenly and grabbing her chin. She flinched harshly, then kept her eyes on the floor as her face burned with humiliation.

“Look at me, doll. You don’t get to avoid me while I teach you your place. You are mine, remember?”

Her eyes flicked up to him, wide and scared. “Yes.”

“Good.” He released her, but she knew to keep her chin up, eyes obediently trained on him. “Now, answer my question. Are you ready to give the world a show?”

“I-”

He tilted his head, dangerously calm and attentive, and tears pricked her eyes.

“Yes, Paladin.”

“There you are, doll.” Paladin knelt in front of her, hands moving to either side of her head and twining into her hair. She barely had time to brace herself before his power moved in.

--

Hugo had bolted the door, so he climbed out the window. In the area that he lived in, he couldn’t risk forgoing that extra protection. A guy in his psychology class said that his apartment had been broken into and his studying resources had been stolen. Said guy was definitely not a trustworthy source and tried to fake getting hit by a bus so his tuition would be free, but textbooks were expensive and some people were desperate. Not even a self-proclaimed vigilante was a match for a desperate college student. As a desperate college student himself, Hugo was well aware of this fact.

His dark gray vigilante costume didn’t block out the wind very well, but he was still proud of himself for making it. It was like a final homage to David. Hugo couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be proud, if he could see him. Probably not, he decided, and words rose to his mind unbidden.

All you can do is copy and paste, Hugo. That’s all you’ve ever been able to do. So why don’t you stop pretending you’re something special!

The memory of their last fight still stung him. It had taken months to shake the words off enough to take a step towards his goals. David had had faith in the world, something that amazed Hugo, who lost that long ago. He spent far too long wondering when it was that David had lost faith in him.

He shook himself off and walked along the fire escape, hopping from one to the next and surveying the ground beneath. This part of the city was always crawling with crime, and if Paladin couldn’t stoop down to help those with no voice or influence in the city, then someone else would have to.

Suddenly, an alarm pierced the air. Hugo took off running towards it.

--

Caroline remained more lucid this time, which she wasn’t sure was a good thing. It did mean that she was actually aware of what she was doing, though. She- or maybe Paladin, through her. But no, this was her fault. She shouldn’t have let it come to this. She bore the blame- was robbing a bank in what seemed like a shabby, poor part of town, which seemed like an objectively stupid thing to do. Wouldn’t it make more sense to go after a bigger bank? Or maybe Paladin was experimenting, getting her known as a criminal before he could go after the bigger crimes?

She felt sick.

An alarm was triggered at the bank, wailing through the air and piercing her eardrums. She would have instinctually cringed back had she not been being controlled. She was using anger to cover up her fear and horror.

Suddenly, a dark shape fell out of the sky and landed next to her. Her breath snagged, but to her surprise, it wasn’t Paladin. It was someone several years younger, with messier, lighter hair, and a gray suit rather than Paladin’s black with cream detailing.

“I’m sorry to be a bother, but I’m afraid I must ask you to stop.” He smiled casually, almost apologetically, as if he really did hate to interrupt.

She, of course, couldn’t respond. Actually, she hardly paused her movements as she worked on opening the vault, which she thought was quite rude.

“Ma’am?” The interloper waved his hand in front of her face. “I don’t want to tell you how to do your job- or, um, hobby- but I would really recommend robbing a different bank.”

Paladin finally made her turn her head to look it him, and she attentively studied his deep gray eyes, a small quirk to his lip.

“Anything you’d manage to collect here would barely buy you a nice dinner, and if that’s your concern, I’d be happy to take you to one myself.” He winked flippantly.

Paladin very strongly disliked him, which made Caroline like him more. Then she flicked her wrist at him and he was thrown backwards into the wall. He crumpled to the floor, coughing. Caroline revolted, pushing back against Paladin’s power with all her might. Her own power remained gathered within her from the recent use, and taking Paladin by surprise gave her a big advantage.

Just then Paladin chose to make his entrance, dropping in dramatically from the ceiling. He was staring at her in aggravation, the only sign of the invisible war inside of her.

“I’ll give you one chance to surrender,” Paladin announced, the words a threat to her in more ways than one.

The boy in gray had stood up and walked over, making a face at Paladin. “I have this handled. Don’t you have a party to attend or something?”

Paladin snarled at him, and this newfound distraction gave Caroline just enough leeway to break through.

She stared desperately at the boy in gray. “Please don’t leave me.” Her voice was small and scared, but it still made both the men freeze. The gray one’s lips parted in confusion, brow ruffled beneath his mask as he studied her. Paladin looked furious. His power crushed her in, suddenly, overwhelmingly, and in less than a second she was once again encased within blankness.

Caroline didn’t notice the boy in gray’s struggle to stay by her as she fought Paladin. She didn’t hear the times he tried to speak to her. She didn’t see Paladin finally threatening him, or the boy’s final reluctant glance over his shoulder.

She only knew that he did leave her.

—

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[oh-mother-of-darkness]

Hello. I am, as you know, an American. I turned eighteen in 2014, voted in my first presidential election in 2016, and voted in my second presidential election last week via early voting in the state of Texas. 

I’m reflecting right now on the difference between those experiences. This is going to be a very self-indulgent essay. 

The 2016 election was in my third and final year of undergrad at Texas A&M University. At the time, I was living with a roommate who grew up in a town of 2,000, all of them members of her church. I loved her very much, but she was the most sheltered person I’ve ever met. 

I was only a few years ahead of her. My home growing up was deeply liberal about many of the things that counted, but deeply conservative on equally important things. For me, leaving for college was a radicalization speed-run.

I, a good Memphis girl, moved to Texas and encountered for the first time in my life white homogeny and everything that comes with it. I made most of my friends at A&M through a Christian orientation camp that I attended, then worked at. I went to school at a history department that was overwhelmingly male and war-obsessed. 

My second semester, I was randomly sorted into a writing seminar on the American Civil War and Reconstruction. There were eight other students in that class, all of them Texans. By day two I had gotten into a open fight with one of my classmates after he used the phrases “one of the humane parts of slavery” and “the secession declarations are moving and beautiful appeals, if you read them,” and “well I’m not going to criticize my own state.”

We got into at least one yelling match per week from that point forward. It was a formative experience for me-- not just him but the seven other students that took his side every time because they just couldn’t conceptualize anything outside of their own experiences, and frankly, I couldn’t either. 

It rocked my world to be surrounded by people who told me, among other things, that their high schools flew the Confederate battle flag or Lee was their all time role-model (because he actually didn’t want to secede! He didn’t believe in it, but Virginia did, so he put his own qualms aside and served his country, and that’s what we all have to do). I ran a survey once by knocking on every door in a dorm hall and asking the two people inside why the Civil War happened. 

I feel like you can guess the most common answer I got. Only two said slavery. Six didn’t know what the Civil War was. 

The last week of the semester, my class read a collection of recorded oral accounts of freed slaves during Reconstruction. My nemesis told me that he “didn’t realize black people actually had it bad.” At the same time, I was struggling with my sexuality, my relationship to my religion, my relationship with my parents, and a handful of newly-diagnosed but long-existing mental illnesses. I wasn’t having fun. 

Over the next three years, I tried my hardest to humanize the people that said disgusting things about minorities, poverty, and me personally. I barely won on that one, and I’m actually really proud that I did, even if it took me a few years. I can trace the biggest change in me directly to my nemesis from the history department, the kid that made me so mad that I started arguing back. I was too scared to do that before. 

By 2016, I was in full existential spin-out-- a very suddenly liberal kid fighting my whole family, all of my classmates, and most of my friends in an explosive political climate, the first I had ever participated in. 

I voted by Tennessee absentee ballot in 2016. On election night, I ordered takeout for me and my roommate, who I knew had voted red. Confident, like pretty much everybody, that Clinton would win, I was trying to show her that I didn’t hate her. She went to bed after dinner, also so certain that Clinton would win that she didn’t bother to stay up. 

I sat in front of my laptop sewing a birthday present for a friend (Kenza, actually), while the votes came in. I wasn’t super alarmed when the map turned red. I just figured the blue states hadn’t finished counting yet. 

The map didn’t get any bluer. By 1am, I knew what was about to happen. They called it an hour later, while I was sobbing on my floor. I threw up in the bathroom out of pure anxiety. I got two anonymous messages telling me the asker was going to commit suicide. Neither of them responded to my replies. I don’t actually know what happened to them. 

I remember riding the bus to class the next morning and distinctly seeing that most of the racial minorities there had swollen eyes from crying. The girl with the pride stickers all over her laptop didn’t show up that day, and I’m kind of glad she didn’t, considering the way some of our classmates in the back were loudly talking about “the gays.” Hope she’s okay.

My roommate came home completely unaware that Clinton lost. I was crying in my room when that happened. I remember showing her a demographic map of who voted which way. She got visibly upset when she figured out what races how. I think she really did feel guilty. 

That Thanksgiving, one of my cousins tweeted, “I can’t wait to go argue with my liberal cousin today. The wins. Keep. Coming,” an hour before he walked into my house. Inauguration day was January 20, 2017. I decided to go to law school a week later, the day the president signed the Muslim ban. That’s when I figured out for the first time just how much power the courts have. The last three years have only enforced that. 

I got angrier and angrier during law school, egged on by a few friends but more than anything just... finally conscious of exactly how the American system works and exactly who’s behind it. I still live in Texas, farther west now, and I’m working my first legal job. I’m going to be a licensed attorney next week. 

I went back and forth for months about how this election was going to shake out. I knew there wasn’t going to be an overwhelming red majority this time, but my big fear was an election close enough that the Supreme Court could take it. That fear doubled last month, at RBG’s death. 

I was hoping for a blue enough victory on election night that there wouldn’t be a week of uncertainty, but that was unlikely, and it didn’t happen. I obsessively refreshed my election map all of Wednesday and Thursday, aware that at least some states would flip after mail-in ballots came in, but unsure which would. 

Again, my great fear was a blue victory held down by only one state. Given (I would say “any” chance here, but I don’t mean “any” chance because genuinely jurisdiction or facts or legal merit don’t matter to the Supreme Court) an opportunity to make one (1) decision that hands over a red election, please know that a conservative supermajority would take it. I cannot emphasize enough how true that is and how important it is for all of us to grasp that. 

Watching Georgia flip was one of the best experiences of my life, and it’s a little hard for me to articulate why, but I’m going to give it a shot here. I’m southern. I’m from the South, and for this conversation it’s really important that I’m from Memphis, a black city and a center of black music and culture. 

When people think about the South, they think of the white South, and on some level, they should. It is absolutely essential to understand the white South in order to understand American history. Let me be 100% clear here. That is not a good thing. American majority history is not good. We are not a good country. 

It’s near-impossible to understand why that’s true without knowing exactly what happened in the white South and exactly what is still happening there now. With that, however, is another truth that most folks don’t get. 

The SouthTM is white and needs to die. The South as it actually exists is partially white yes, but it is also everyone else that lives here, particularly black folks. Southern culture is black, not white. Georgia flipped because the people that have always, always been there finally got to crack apart the conservative machine holding the South hostage. 

That’s amazing. It’s fucking mind-blowing. I watched it happen at 3:30 in the morning days after Election Day, and holy shit holy shit, Georgia flipped. Atlanta won. Holy fucking shit. 

I would be terrified right now if only Georgia flipped, because SCOTUS would have found a way to throw out a few thousand votes. Inevitable. Absolutely certain on that one. 

With a few states of buffer, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I really do think it’s over. 

I came home after work on Friday and immediately went to sleep because I hadn’t really done that since Tuesday. I woke up at noon today, checked the map, checked my messages, and saw what happened while I was gone. After that, I went back to bed until 5:30pm. I’m really just getting up now, after most of 24 hours asleep. 

I don’t know if I would say that I’m happy right now, but I am overwhelmingly relieved. I’m under no illusions that a Biden victory will solve everything, but I also do think this is a real thing to celebrate. I’ll take suggestions on how to celebrate right now, actually, since I’m finally awake. 

I’ll be angry forever, I think, but this is a good thing, and I’d like to enjoy it. If you’re happy right now, hey, tell me about it. I’ll be thrilled with you. I want to hear it. Congrats to all of us. Love y’all. 

[seriouslycromulent]

I've been holding on to this article all week, and I'm glad I finally made the time to read it. It's very enlightening, and speaks to the importance of how "Representation Matters" can be a phrase so easily co-opted by the majority (as per usual), then twisted to serve the status quo.

It's really sad because the cast clearly deserved better. I adored the show, and was happy to name it as one of my favorite binge-watch marathons of the quarantine. I hope to see everyone (especially the Dad and Kimchee) in future projects. But all in all, the final season along with this news feels even more bittersweet.

Here is the article behind the link. The bolded sections are my own emphasis.

-----

‘Kim’s Convenience’ stars decry ‘overtly racist’ storylines, lack of representation

JUNE 7, 2021 2:29 PM PT By CHRISTI CARRASSTAFF WRITER

“Kim’s Convenience” has officially closed up shop, and its stars are opening up about their frustrations with the show’s approach to Korean Canadian representation behind and in front of the camera.

After the hit CBC sitcom debuted its fifth and final season last week on Netflix, actors Simu Liu and Jean Yoon voiced their concerns regarding the series’ “overwhelmingly white” production team, “horsepoop” pay and “overtly racist” storylines, among other alleged grievances.

Based on actor and playwright Ins Choi’s stage production of the same name, “Kim’s Convenience” premiered in 2016 and centered on a Korean Canadian family operating a convenience store in Toronto. In the show, Liu — star of Marvel’s highly anticipated “Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings” — portrayed Yoon’s on-screen son, Jung.

“I’ve heard a lot of speculation surrounding myself — specifically, about how getting a Marvel role meant I was suddenly too ‘Hollywood’ for Canadian TV,” Liu remarked Thursday in a lengthy Facebook post reflecting on the end of the program.

“This could not be further from the truth. I love this show and everything it stood for. I saw firsthand how profoundly it impacted families and brought people together. It’s truly SO RARE for a show today to have such an impact on people, and I wanted very badly to make the schedules work.

After setting the record straight about his career trajectory, Liu expressed disappointment with the way that he and his character were treated as the series progressed.

“I WAS, however, growing increasingly frustrated with the way my character was being portrayed and, somewhat related, was also increasingly frustrated with the way I was being treated,” he said. “It was always my understanding that the lead actors were the stewards of character, and would grow to have more creative insight as the show went on.

“This was not the case on our show, which was doubly confusing because our producers were overwhelmingly white and we were a cast of Asian Canadians who had a plethora of lived experiences to draw from and offer to writers. ... there was deliberately not a lot of leeway given to us.”

Liu also sounded off on “Strays,” the forthcoming spinoff series spotlighting Jung’s work supervisor, Shannon, played by Nicole Power. The offshoot is set to premiere in September on the CBC.

“I love and am proud of Nicole, and I want the show to succeed for her... but I remain resentful of all of the circumstances that led to the one non-Asian character getting her own show,” Liu wrote. “And not that they would ever ask, but I will adamantly refuse to reprise my role in any capacity.”

In addition to creative differences, Liu accused the CBC of purposefully underpaying him and his castmates in comparison to other popular shows such as “Schitt’s Creek,” which boasted “brand-name talent” but received lower ratings than “Kim’s Convenience,” according to Liu.

“For how successful the show actually became, we were paid an absolute horsepoop rate,” he wrote. “The whole process has really opened my eyes to the relationship between those with power and those without. In the beginning, we were no-name actors who had ZERO leverage. So of course we were going to take anything we could. ...

“Basically we were locked in for the foreseeable future at a super-low rate ... But we also never banded together and demanded more — probably because we were told to be grateful to even be there, and because we were so scared to rock the boat. Maybe also because we were too busy infighting to understand that we were deliberately being pitted against each other. Meanwhile, we had to become the de facto mouthpieces for the show (our showrunners were EPICALLY reclusive), working tirelessly to promote it while never truly feeling like we had a seat at its table.”

Shortly after Liu shared his thoughts on social media, a television critic for Canada’s Globe and Mail dismissed his comments as “unfair” and “mean-spirited,” prompting Yoon to defend her costar on Twitter.

While both Liu and Yoon credited Korean Canadian artist Choi with introducing the Kim family to mainstream audiences, they also alleged that his influence over the series was eclipsed by a dearth of Korean representation behind the scenes.

“Your attack on my cast mate @SimuLiu, in the defense of my fellow Korean artist Ins Choi is neither helpful nor merited,” Yoon replied to the Globe and Mail’s rebuke of Liu’s statements. “Mr. Choi wrote the play, I was in [it]. He created the TV show, but his co-creator Mr. Kevin White was the showrunner, and clearly set the parameters.

“This is a FACT that was concealed from us as a cast. It was evident from Mr. Choi’s diminished presence on set, or in response to script questions. Between S4 and S5, this FACT became a crisis, and in S5 we were told Mr. Choi was resuming control of the show.”

The scene partners also addressed the alleged absence of diversity on the “Kim’s Convenience” writing team, which “lacked both East Asian and female representation,” as well as “a pipeline to introduce diverse talents,” according to Liu.

“Aside from Ins, there were no other Korean voices in the room,” Liu wrote. “And personally I do not think he did enough to be a champion for those voices (including ours). When he left (without so much as a goodbye note to the cast), he left no protege, no padawan learner, no Korean talent that could have replaced him.”

“As an Asian Canadian woman, a Korean-Canadian woman w more experience and knowledge of the world of my characters, the lack of Asian female, especially Korean writers in the writers room of Kims made my life VERY DIFFICULT & the experience of working on the show painful,” Yoon tweeted.

Despite trying “so hard” to make himself available as a creative resource, Liu said efforts made by him and others to improve the show from the inside were dismissed. Without adequate input from talent of Korean descent, Yoon added that the show’s authenticity suffered.

“The cast received drafts of all S5 scripts in advance of shooting BECAUSE of Covid, at which time we discovered storylines that were OVERTLY RACIST, and so extremely culturally inaccurate that the cast came together and expressed concerns collectively,” Yoon tweeted.

“My prior experience had taught me that if I just put myself out there enough, people would be naturally inclined to help,” Liu wrote. “And boy was I wrong here. I wasn’t the only one who tried. Many of us in the cast were trained screenwriters with thoughts and ideas that only grew more seasoned with time. But those doors were never opened to us in any meaningful way.”

Representatives for Choi and the CBC did not immediately respond Monday to The Times’ requests for comment.

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #32

Orion Amari x MC

Word Count: ~ 3.300

_________________________________________

Chapter 32: The Final Step

Orion was glad when the light that was filtering into their dormitory gradually got lighter as the beginning of the day crept up on them. Different than usual, he had been sleeping uneasily for the whole night, and not at all for the last hour or so. He had been going over all the necessary statistics Murphy had drilled into him, trying to remember their most important strategic points for the day. He was wondering if they were as prepared as they should be.

When he had woken from his turbulent dreams, Orion had known immediately that he wouldn’t go back to sleep anytime soon; he had tried calming his mind with deep, steady breaths but like he had expected, it had been a futile attempt; his nerves were bubbling under his skin when he thought of what awaited him today. The energy vibrating inside him made him eager to get up, the first traces of adrenaline already flooding his body.

He could hear Everett tossing and turning on the other side of the room, quietly swearing and impatiently fluffing his pillow every now and again. Orion made no move to signal his teammate that he was awake as well. Ever since their confrontation on the day after the Slytherin match they had spoken even less than before, but it wasn’t like Orion minded much. Despite them having shared a dorm for six years now, he and Everett had never been able to form a real connection.

But still, Orion hadn’t forgotten how he had felt himself on the day of his first final, back when he had been the new kid on the team. He had been in a terrified state for most of the day until the game had begun. Even after playing for so many years, he still felt unusually agitated before the last match of the season; imagining how nervous Everett must feel right now, Orion felt a touch of sympathy for him. All of the showing off and aggressiveness was merely hiding a deep insecurity and wish for appreciation, and Everett knew that Orion could see behind his facade.

When it was finally bright enough to get up without raising questions, Orion reached over to his nightstand and picked up his favourite picture of their team. Putting it into the pocket of his coat, he quietly left his dorm and the Common Room behind and made his way up to the Astronomy Tower. He usually preferred the pitch to focus his thoughts but he didn’t feel in the right mindset for it yet; he wanted to be calm and centred when entering it for the first time that day.

The sun was just starting to show on the edge of the horizon when he reached the top of the spiral staircase. Orion couldn’t help remembering the last time he’d been up here outside of Astronomy classes. Just as he had anticipated, the memory of him and Lizzie started crashing in on him as he walked to the edge of the parapet to watch the sunrise. He wished he could have shown her the beauty of the place as it was basked in the first rays of the rising sun; everything looked so different in the light of a new day. A melancholy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth; but then again, so did everything.

He reached into his pocket and drew out the picture he had taken with him. It was the same picture most of them were keeping on their nightstands; it had been taken at the end of last season, to capture the team that had remained unchanged for so long, before their old Beater had graduated and left her position open for Everett to fill.

With the golden light of the sun washing over him, he thought about how their team had changed over the course of the year. It was something he did every time before their final match of the season, no matter if they were trying for the Cup or not. This year, their journey had been more turbulent than ever before. Like a pendulum, their harmony had swayed from balanced to non-existent in a constant up and down of emotions.

He couldn’t help but feel guilty at being partly to blame for this discontinuity. The feelings he had developed towards Lizzie had been a catalyst for many of the changes his team had had to endure. But despite the obstacles lining their way, they had come out on top, ready to take the final step towards their goal. Smiling fondly at the picture of what he considered his family, Orion felt overwhelmingly proud of what they had achieved. It had shown once again; with enough trust in themselves, everything had fallen into place in the end.

When the sun was fully up and the sky started changing from pink to a light blue, Orion made his way down from the tower. The castle was still mostly dormant, but when he arrived at the Great Hall, there were already some students sitting at their House tables and enjoying their breakfast.

Judith was already there, of course; much like him, the dark skinned Hufflepuff Beater was a dedicated early riser. She was sitting at the mostly deserted Ravenclaw table with her boyfriend, both of them engaged in a quiet conversation. Orion was more surprised to see Lizzie and Skye sitting a bit further ahead at the Hufflepuff table; both of his fellow Chasers were known for enjoying sleeping in. But then again, they were probably just as anxious as he was. Lizzie was rapidly bouncing her foot while she was stirring her tea to an extent that her whole frame seemed to be shaking; the nervous energy she was radiating was palpable and rubbing off on Orion by simply looking at her.

Skye, on the other hand, was unusually pale and had her lips pressed tightly together. Orion’s brow furrowed for a short moment; he had heard people talking about Ethan Parkin wanting to attend their match and he knew how much her father’s approval meant to Skye. He just hoped that she and Lizzie would be able to set aside their worries and find the balanced state of mind they would need to succeed.

The morning was dragging on a lot more slowly than Orion would have liked. There wasn’t much talk between the members of the Hufflepuff team; everyone was busy coping with their nerves in their own ways. Lizzie surrounded herself with her friends and other girls from her year; Orion knew listening to their chatter was her way of keeping her thoughts off the impending match. Skye joined them for a time before she quietly left the Common Room to meet her father.

Others, like Judith, preferred isolating themselves and their thoughts from fans and well-wishers by meditating in a quiet place on their own. Orion wished he could have done the same but as the team’s captain it was his responsibility to make sure everything and everyone was properly prepared. He wasn’t concerned about his seasoned teammates; although everyone was nervous, he knew all of them would come through. The only one truly worrying him was Everett.

He had noticed the change in his behaviour immediately after returning to the Common Room after breakfast. Everett had never been a particularly pleasant person, but his bad mood had reached a new level today. He was constantly moving from one place to the other, none suitable for him to relax, snarling at everyone crossing his way. His demeanour was anything but the calm and collected state of mind Orion preferred on his teammates.

When Orion approached him, Everett looked up warily. “What do you want, Amari?”

His tone was openly hostile but Orion chose to ignore it. Not even Everett would make him lose his focus now; there was too much for them at stake today. Instead, Orion met his gaze calmly.

“How are you feeling?”

Not having expected his sincere interest, Everett only blinked at him. The snarky comment that was undoubtedly resting on the tip of his tongue made way for a confused look on his face.

“What?”

Orion inclined his head slightly. “You do not seem to be in a balanced state of mind today.”

This time, Everett couldn’t hide the rolling of his eyes, nor did he try to. “Spare me your balance nonsense,” he scoffed.

He got up from his seat and tried to shoulder past him, but Orion was having none of it. He got hold of Everett’s shoulder with a strong grip, the intensity of which clearly surprised the Beater. If one member of the team was unbalanced, all of them were; Orion was determined to make him listen.

“We’ve never been friends, you and I, and I acknowledge that sometimes people are too different to form a connection on a common ground,” Orion began and Everett grunted in confirmation; at least in this point they had the same opinion.

“But I remember my first season finale,” Orion continued regardless. “It was back in our second year and I was terrified. The final match of the season is the highlight of our year, the pinnacle of everything we have worked for; being afraid to not close this chapter of our journey in a satisfying way is something that scares me every year over and over again and there is no shame in admitting so.”

When he felt that Everett was actually listening, he let go of him. Both moved instinctively away from each other, even if only for the slightest bit. It was true, they had never been more than roommates and would probably never be anything resembling friends, but this was not the point.

“As the captain of our team, I see it as my duty to give out advice when I feel one of ours is in need of it,” Orion said levelly. “I see that you are struggling and trying to mask it with anger; this will neither help you nor our team. Fear and rage weigh us down where we need to be unburdened to fly. But with the right mindset, overcoming your emotions will provide you with the strength to give it your all; I expect nothing more or less from everyone today. So embrace your imbalance until it settles and let your nerves drive you towards your goal, instead of letting them distract you from it.”

Everett stared at him as he tried to extract the information from Orion’s words; sometimes Orion forgot not everyone was catching on to his meaning as quickly as Murphy or Lizzie did.

“Why are you trying to help me?” Everett eventually asked sceptically. “You said it yourself, we’re not even friends.”

“Today, personal grievances don’t matter,” Orion answered. “We are part of a unit, small gears attuned to the same machinery. If we want to succeed, we must put ourselves aside and become the team we need to be.” He took a step back and made to turn around. “You may want to think about it.”

*

His own words were still echoing in Orion’s ears as both contenders for the Cup made their ways down to the Quidditch pitch after an early lunch. It was still quite some time before the stands would be starting to fill with excited students but Orion could already feel the apprehension hanging heavy in the air as they trudged down the familiar path towards the stadium.

The collective nervousness radiating off both teams was tangible and the hot summer air heavy with their silence. None of his teammates was speaking, everyone caught up in their own thoughts, blind to the beautiful day surrounding them. Even Orion himself couldn’t appreciate the warmth of the sun upon his skin for its beauty itself; instead, he was thinking about how to adapt their strategy should they be forced to play against the sunlight.

Judging from the tensed shoulders and heavy steps of the Gryffindor team walking ahead of them, they weren’t feeling any better. The strained atmosphere didn’t do much to calm Orion’s nerves but he knew his focus would return once they were up in the air, the one place where he felt truly free, all doubts and musings forgotten. So far, peace had never failed to come to him, once his feet had left the ground.

***

Lizzie was absentmindedly playing with the buckles of her Quidditch gloves while she was watching Orion conducting their last moment of vivification for the year. She tried to keep track of his complicated analogies but found herself not really listening.

Over the years, Orion’s speeches had become part of Lizzie’s way to cope with her nerves, giving her mind something to focus on when the kick-off was painstakingly close. But today, for the first time really, Lizzie found that his words didn’t reach her. Instead, the rumbling sound of the crowd waiting for them combined with the raw energy pulsing through her veins was distracting her. She tried shaking it off and giving their moment of vivification the proper attention, but felt her focus slipping once again as she noticed how well the deep yellow of Orion’s Quidditch robes complemented his olive skin and dark hair.

With a sigh, she leaned back against one of the wooden posts supporting the tent and concentrated on the blackboard in Orion’s back. If she couldn’t bring herself to listen to him, she might as well have a last look at their strategy. Out of habit, her hand twitched to her neck where her pendant was resting underneath her robes. They were supposed to take any jewellery off but Lizzie was so used to the feel of the stone resting against her skin, not wearing it felt strange to her.

When Skye suddenly jumped up next to her to rally up their teammates one last time, Lizzie was violently broken out of her musings; she hadn’t even noticed Orion’s speech had ended.

“Alright lads, you heard the captain,” Skye shouted and clapped her gloved hands together, “This is our moment, our time to take back what is ours! Let’s get out there and show those lions the ropes! We’re one team!”

“One team!” Lizzie chimed in with the others, the joined cheer helping her focus on what mattered.

The tent now bursting with energy, everyone grabbed their brooms and headed towards the exit of the tent; the roaring of the crowd grew louder as the tent flap was drawn back and one after the other filed out into the bright sunlight.

Lizzie, Orion and Skye were the last ones to leave the changing room, when Lizzie suddenly tripped and stumbled into Skye; looking down, she noticed the lacing of her boot had come undone. She leaned her Comet against a locker and bent down to re-tie it. As she leaned forward, she felt her necklace slipping out from under her robes but before she could catch it, Skye had already noticed it.

She raised an eyebrow at Lizzie reproachfully. “You know the rules, Jameson; no jewellery allowed. Hooch’ll be getting all iffy about it if she sees that; better take it off while you got the chance.”

She turned around and followed their teammates outside; with her gone, only Lizzie and Orion remained behind.

Trying to ignore Orion’s curious look, Lizzie was trying to get her gloves off as quickly as she could. But she had difficulties opening the buckles on her arm protection and the quicker she tried to get them open, the more she was struggling.

“How did you like my speech?”

Lizzie didn’t look up as Orion walked up to her; suddenly, she was even more busy fiddling with her gloves. She felt herself blush at his question, though; she didn’t have the slightest idea what the speech had even been about.

“It was good,” she mumbled evasively, trying not to lose her face. “I feel thoroughly vivified.”

“Really?” he smirked. “I had the impression your mind was elsewhere, Chaser. But don’t worry,” he laughed at her guilty expression, “while I do try to speak out of the moment, even I have to admit that this was one of my weaker speeches.”

The smile on his face turned hesitant, but the warmth in his eyes lingered as they dropped to her necklace for a moment. “May I help you?”

Lizzie paused for a moment, feeling the same uncertainty that she could see shining in Orion’s eyes. But after a moment, she turned her back to him and moved her hair out of the way. She could feel the tips of his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck and couldn’t help the pleasant shiver running up and down her spine. She knew he could see the goosebumps spreading on her skin but was glad he chose not to comment on it. When Orion bent his head a little in concentration, she could feel his breath against her skin, making her acutely aware of just how close he was.

Before the feeling became too overwhelming, however, the clasp of her necklace came undone and Orion took a step back; Lizzie instantly missed his presence.

“I’m surprised you’re still wearing it,” he commented as he walked around her and held the delicate golden necklace out for her to take.

Lizzie took it from him and let it run through her fingers. “Someone told me these stones have to be kept close for them to do their magic,” she replied with the faintest of smiles. Not quite knowing what to do with it, she wound the chain around her finger before untangling it again.

Orion watched her play with the pendant and a soft smirk formed on his face. “I thought you didn’t believe in Astrology.”

Lizzie wasn’t looking at him but at the yellow topaz glittering in the palm of her hand; she was smiling fondly, nevertheless. “I don’t; but I do believe in how I feel about this particular stone,” she said so quietly, it was barely audible above the increasing roar of the crowd.

Unsurprisingly, Orion heard her anyway.

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll let you in on a little secret of mine,” he told her, eyes suddenly sparkling mischievously. He smiled at her surprised face as he quickly undid the buckles on his right arm protection, much quicker than when Lizzie had tried and failed to do the same, and pushed back the sleeve of his robes. Her smile turned into a little laugh as her eyes fell onto Orion’s own necklace being wrapped several times around his wrist.

“That’s against the rules, Captain,” she chuckled.

“We don’t have to play by all the rules, do we?” he grinned back at her. He nodded towards her hand. “Come on, take your glove off.”

With his assistance, Lizzie undid the buckles and pulled the arm protection off. Rolling up her sleeve, Orion wrapped the chain of her necklace around her right wrist twice, making sure the pendant didn’t fall into her palm where it would distract her.

“Try it, how does it feel?”

Lizzie flexed her wrist a few times; she didn’t feel obstructed at all. Her small topaz was resting against her pulse, where the extended beat of her heart was visible. Feeling her nerves subside at the view, she smiled at Orion. “I feel perfect, Captain; thank you.”

Orion took her hand and covered the topaz with his other, their eyes locking for a moment. “Then I’m sure, there is nothing that can stop you, Chaser.”

Lizzie opened her mouth to reply but Skye’s voice calling over to them from the entrance had them quickly step away from each other.

“You guys coming or not? It’s time to win a bloody Cup!”

[octupus-on-the-moon]

A table

~It's been done *laughs in Dr. Frankenstein*. After a lot of sweat, cursing and repeatedly flipping of my laptop and tablet. A new part of a nightmare is ready. It's a bit longer because of my absence and I hope I can keep my motivation up~

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Ninth part of nightmare

Word count: 1,814

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Warning: Non I guess. Just some fluff and a burned gratine.

Bucky opened the door, awaiting the cold, baldness of the walls. To end up being surprised by the green he saw everywhere.

He totally forgot the little plants, y/n bought for him. They really made a difference. A welcome one. His clenched jaw and frowned eyebrows disappeared.

After taking of his jacket, he took an empty glass and went around pouring some water in all the colorful pots. He cursed under his breath, after he spilled some water for the second time. Mentally making a note to buy a watering can. Without noticing that his dark thoughts lifted and the silence around him was a welcome one, rather than a threatening menace.

Barnes looked at his wristwatch. It was still over an hour, till y/n would come back from college. He felt a sting of joy in his stomach.

That was new, Bucky wondered. It was probably just the excitement of finally having something to look forward to, instead of enduring one day after the other with the same maddening routine.

In the meanwhile, he could be useful and cook lunch. Y/n would be hungry after college and he had promised to cook the next time. Bucky looked in the fridge and cupboards. Potatoes, cheese and bacon. Exactly what he needed

Y/n had 30 minutes of lecture left, till she was free. She really wanted to go back to her little room in James’s apartment after the first class, but Monday was full of important courses, so she somehow managed to convince herself to stay.

The short call with James lifted her spirits considerably. It was his stoic way of talking, as soon as she showed a bit of interest in him, that made her feel warm inside. Her thoughts wandered off. To him. To the unpleasant night and how she finally saw the scared child he was. But then they went off to his blue eyes and the little crinkles around them when he frowned.

He must have been quite a look back in the forties.

Of course she had seen the photos in the Smithsonian, but she pictured him in a classier way. With a fitted suit and a fedora hat, walking down the street stealing hearts. Maybe a girl at his side and his eyes constantly lingering around her, as if she were the whole world and more. At the thought of it, y/n caught herself picturing a girl just like her, beside his tall figure.

That made her stop and turn back to reality. It was not a good sign. Or maybe it was. It felt like forever, since she let someone into her life and James was pretty much the last person she would have thought of. But she also did not expect her father being a criminal and her whole existence a facade.

Life was full of twists and turns lately. Some good, some bad. Maybe it was time to let something good happen.

“Ms. y/l/n, could you resume the discussed topic?” The professors sharp tone ripped y/n out of her train of thought. This will be the longest 30 minutes of my life, she thought.

A quite knock on the door distracted Barnes from intensely starring at the oven. He decided himself for a simple potato gratin, that would hopefully suite y/n’s taste. With is heart beating a bit too fast he neared himself the door.

And there she was. Her hair a little mess. A bag casually hanging around her shoulder and a beam as bright as the sun itself.

“Will you let me in or just keep starring?” Her playful greeting made Bucky’s heart stumble and without wasting words he stepped aside. He made another mental note. His gaze is not to be trusted. “How was therapy?” she asked letting her bag slide to the floor entering the kitchen in on smooth motion “Who of you two bit off the other one´s head first?” It took Bucky moment to get out of his trance.

“I….. We…. It went good” Barnes cleared his throat closing the door behind him “But she got a little suspicious about me deciding to cooperate” Y/n was drinking a glass of water leaning against the counter and once again Bucky could not get his eyes off of her.

“I did not think about that. We should have done one thing at a time. But I guess it´s too late now. Oh! And it smells amazing” she replied signing over to the oven. The quick hand move, the way her voice floated in the air, that one fuzzy hair in her face, everything captured him. “I…” A sharp smell tingling his nose interrupted Barnes. It came from the hot oven in the middle of the kitchen. His concentration fully gathered again, let him act quickly, reaching over for a rug and rescuing his gratin in the last moment. The crust was now a bit darker than needed but it was still acceptable.

“It´s a burned potato gratin” Barnes darkly commented, placing the form in the center of the already ‘set up table’.

“Hey, don´t be so hard on yourself. It still looks amazing”

“I´m not being hard with myself, I´m blaming you. It wouldn´t have burned if you wouldn´t have distracted me” Bucky’s eyes were glimmering amused.

She gasped overly dramatic, laying one hand on her chest “Me?”

“Yes. You” He broke out into a smile, without wasting another thought he reached over to her, brushing that fuzzy string of hair out of her face. Y/n’s giggle stopped for a moment at the closeness between both, making place for a shy smile, her eyes searching the floor. Barnes retreaded himself, feeling a heavy stone inside his stomach, as he realized how intimate the gesture was.

She did not expect him coming so close, her heart was already fluttering and was about to explode at his touch. Then he moved away causing an emptiness inside her. The same emptiness she always felt since the day of the notification. It was the last time she felt truly fulfilled and at ease, she had dreams and goals. Then everything changed. Life suddenly was a landscape of grey. Every task dull and meaningless. Time passed. She soon enough noticed that the emptiness would stay and the grey would only flourish.

Then the nightmare happened. And the already grey landscape had now even dark shadows to be afraid of.

James moved away to cut and serve the gratin. Giving her a little time to calm down her heart beat and ‘take a seat’ on the kitchen counter. After another heartbeat of discreetly observing Bucky serve the plates, y/n decided to break the silence “James”

He looked up with a shy grin “Yes?”

“We really need to get you a table”

….

“Is it really necessary?” Bucky and y/n were standing in front of the furniture store. Bucky incredulously, Y/n exited.

“Well at least I am not going to keep eating on the floor and, or the counter. My back is literally hurting from eating the gratin”

“Yes, it’s true. But. I…” Barnes closed and opened his fists a few times weighting his options “Okey. I guess we can take a look around” She nodded enthusiastically leading the way into the shop, James sighted heavily and followed.

The store was more or less deserted, which relieved Barnes. He didn´t like being in a already overwhelmingly filled hall with an ever more overwhelming count of people in it. The exit routs were explicitly signed which calmed his anxiety a bit more.

The most urgent thing for y/n was definitely the table, which led them to the dinning room section.

“I feel like a mafia boss” Y/n declared sitting down on the front side of a heavy wooden table. The chair, throne-like, up-holstered in a red velvet.

“Yes. A very scary mafia boss” Bucky jeered from the other side of the aisle.

“Hey! I can be scary if I want to”

“Jupp, as scary as a teddy”

She got up from the huge seat and walked over to him “Have you ever started into the cold dead eyes of a teddy bear?”

Bucky thought for an overly long moment “No, I haven´t. What about this one?”

“James. That’s a plastic table and it isn´t even a good quality one. In half a year, you will need to buy a new one” grabbing his arm she dragged him away “Come on these place is gigantic, we can find something better”

Yet, they didn´t. Every table y/n suggested was rejected by Bucky and vice versa. It was mostly to big, to small, to pompous, to dull, to much seats, to little seats and so on.

Both had almost reached the end of the section, when y/n suddenly dragged Bucky over to another exemplar. It´s design was simple, a glass top and a blond wooden frame with matching metal legs. Four chairs coated in a clear fabric rounded the dining set.

“This one. It´s the perfect size and I think I saw stools that would match, for the counter” Y/n sounded near desperate. Bucky took his time to look around the table. He was searching for something specific on it.

The price tag.

Y/n had picked out the most beautiful and practical tables, but the price was often more then exorbitantly high, which led Bucky to refuse all her suggestions. And the same happened with this one, it was by far the best table she had found today. It would look amazing between the plants, near the window, the chairs comfortable to sit on, in the early mornings to drink coffee and read the paper. It was a shame the table was out of Bucky`s scarce budget.

“I don´t know” Barnes commented “The chairs will get dirty pretty fast” Y/n´s face dropped.

She really didn´t expect it being so hard to satisfy Bucky´s furniture taste. Y/n thought that given Bucky´s cloth taste, he would have somewhat the same taste for furniture. Modern, comfy and in style with the room. Yet, every piece he had found acceptable was old styled, plastic or just straight out in a horrible color “You really liked that plastic table didn´t you?” She sighted.

For the break of a second Bucky frowned disgusted, then he nodded convincingly. But it was enough for her to know, what was keeping them from agreeing for a piece of furniture.

Cheap.

Every single table he elected was not because of its design, colour or material, it was because it was cheap. For a moment y/n felt bad. It was selfish of her not thinking that way, even though she truly believed that she didn´t have a rich complex, sometimes she did forget that not everyone had unlimited resources.

“Maybe it´s time for a little break. I think I saw a popcorn stand outside” Bucky’s conflicted face lit up a bit at her words.

All rights reserved.

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Tags: @ginger-swag-rapunzel

[yellowocaballero]

Prequel to ‘The Crow’s Funeral’: How Agnes + Gerry met, then proceeded to set Jon on fire.

Exactly what it says on the tin. This exists because I was rereading TCF and went “hey did I ever figure out how Agnes and Gerry met”. I didn’t, so this is it. Rest under the cut. No specific warnings except for the fact that, shockingly enough, Jon had gone through a lot of character development prior to the start of TCF and was actually a complete asshole for a year or two. 

“Daisy? What are you looking for?”

Agnes’s expression stretched into terror. She mouthed ‘fuck!’, and slapped a hand over her mouth. She didn’t breathe, and her chest never rose and fell, but she abruptly started trembling.

For the first time, Gerry reached out to reassure her. But her body heat had abruptly tripled, and Gerry was forced to pull back. In the small, unventilated space, it quickly became overwhelmingly hot.

“Shut it off!” Gerry hissed, as quietly as he physically could. “They’ll feel it -”

“That is the most dangerous monster in the world,” Agnes whispered, and Gerry fell silent. “Don’t move.”

For the first time in a very long time, in an apocalyptic world built on terror and fear, Gerry felt afraid.

Agnes was back. 

Gerry didn’t know how she had found him. His hiding place was pretty well hidden, thank-you-very-much. Adults were always trying to barricade themselves in houses - stupid, when the nightshades could drift through shit - and kids were always trying to hide in closets or attics. But Gerry was the perfect mix of adult and child - or, as they’re known, teenagers - and he had way too much experience stripping houses down for the possessions of the recently deceased. 

So Gerry knew about crawl spaces. Like in the Magician’s Nephew, some older row houses had little secret tunnels between each house. You couldn’t quite get into each house normally, but there were always gaps and weak points and hatches. Even better, at the very top there was a hidden attic where the generator and power box lived. It was small, and there were definitely some gross animal corpses that Gerry could have sworn moved, but it was mostly safe. So much as anything was safe. 

But, somehow, Agnes had found him. Gerry didn’t know what she was doing exploring row houses for fun, but judging from the scent of smoke that’s been in the air lately he didn’t want to know. 

The sharp rapping echoed through the small attic, directly under the hatch with a huge heavy space heater dumped on it. Gerry had other means of entry, and Agnes thought that was the only door. Please! As if Gerry would live somewhere with only one escape exit. That was just asking to get stuck in a nightmare for a month. 

But, then again, maybe Agnes had never had to worry about that. 

“I brought food!” The high, clear voice called out - slightly muffled from the ceiling/floor, but unmistakable. “It’s Twinkies! Come down to eat it!”

“No way!” Gerry called down back. “I bet you put offal in it!”

“What does offal mean!”

“It’s, like, organs! Go away, lady!”

“I told you!” Agnes called back, weirdly delighted. “My name’s Agnes! I’m a Princess!”

“Princess of what, being lame!”

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you, Princess Agnes!”

“Fuck me yourself!”

Ugh! She was so annoying! This was her fourth fucking time coming by here, and ever since she had realized that he was just a teenage boy she had been leaving food in front of the attic door. It was always weird food, too. Didn’t she know what humans ate?

Stupidly on cue, Gerry’s stomach rumbled. Ugh. 

“Go away,” Gerry called back, eager for her to just leave already so he could eat the shitty food she had undoubtedly left. “I don’t feel like getting turned into a candle today!”

For some reason, she didn’t reply to that. Gerry wondered if she was trying to fool him into thinking she was leaving, but joke’s on her - Gerry could hear footsteps all the way through the house. He waited with bated breath for a minute, two minutes, slowly growing confused why she wasn’t either yelling at him or leaving. 

He’d never tell her, but he kind of enjoyed fighting with her. 

Finally, she called out, with an emotion in her voice that he had never heard from her before, “Is that why you won’t come out? You think I’d turn you into a candle?”

Gerry was flabbergasted. “Yes?” he called back. “You turn everyone into candles.”

“...it’s not just because you don’t like me?”

Aw, man. Gerry abruptly felt a little bad for the flame monster cult leader lady. She couldn’t be any older than him. “You’re really nice,” Gerry called back, feeling like an idiot. “I just didn’t make it this far by not being careful! Thanks for the food, though!”

A longer silence this time. For some reason, Gerry felt a weird kind of anxious. Not the normal level of ‘aaah im gonna get eaten’ anxious. But something different. He couldn’t describe it. 

Finally, Agnes called back, “Do you want me to stop bothering you? I’m sorry if I’ve been harassing you. I’m not good at - at all of this.”

Gerry sat in his own silence, sitting cross-legged in front of the space heater on top of the hatch. His baggy jeans clung to his legs, slightly sweaty and definitely unwashed, and his raggedy thin black jacket was also a little sweaty. His hair was plastered to his head, limp and dirty. Wherever Agnes went, heat followed. 

People who made dumb decisions didn’t live very long. Gerry had lived for quite a while - well, he was fifteen, but he had made it all year without getting eaten, which was really quite impressive. 

And he had made it alone. When he woke up in this green and terrifying world, Mum hadn’t been there. He had looked for her for months. He had almost been ripped to shreds in Pinhole Books. She wasn’t in any of their usual London hideaways, either. Maybe she was outside of London, somewhere far away…

In all of Gerry’s books, he’d pack up his backpack and set out to look for Mum. He wouldn’t stop until he found her. Then he’d find out that she’d been embroiled in some plot to stop all of this, and he’d help her, and she’d hug him…

But it wasn’t a book. No matter how strange this new world was, fiction couldn’t begin to match. And Gerry didn’t really miss his Mum. Not really. He missed the fact that he was alone. He missed the fact that she was powerful and smart and talented, and definitely would have been able to protect the both of them. Gerry had to protect himself now, and he missed that safety more than he ever missed Mum. 

Gerry wondered if Agnes was lonely. How could she, with a whole cult?

It was a stupid decision. But Gerry had always trusted too easy, anyway. 

He stood up and pushed the space heater with a thick, screeching grinding sound that scraped uncomfortably along the wood. With a final heave, he pushed it off the hatch, and reluctantly bent down to lift the hatch and unfold the ladder. 

“If you turn me into a candle I’m giving you an allergy attack,” Gerry called down, and the girl known as Agnes Montague smiled up at him brilliantly. 

***

That wasn’t how Agnes and Gerry started. But it had been, maybe, how they got going. 

Agnes, Gerry found out very quickly, was a hot-tempered girl. Save the jokes. She was always dressed like a sixties hippie, and her long red hair was always somehow glistening and clean. She let Gerry touch it, very carefully, and - yep, even the hair was wax. What a weird person. 

After a bit of frantic introductions and suspicious squinting from both sides, Gerry and Agnes had eventually sat down cross-legged from each other as Gerry stuffed Twinkies in his mouth and she eyed them warily. She had eyed them with a bit of trepidation, but Gerry’s obvious joy at eating them must have made her curious. That was one thing Agnes was: curious. Almost to death. 

“You really live up here? And you’ve never gotten trapped by a nightmare?”

Gerry shrugged uncomfortably, sucking at his fingers. “Yep. I run around town a lot too, cuz I get bored otherwise. It’s easy to evade all of that shit if you know how.”

“Wow.” It was probably her being a fire person or whatever, but Agnes’ eyes seemed to sparkle a little bit. “My cult members barely even let me outside by myself, and I can set shit on fire. You’re really weird for a human.”

Gerry couldn’t help but puff out his chest a little, even if he would have preferred her to use any other word than ‘weird’. “That’s what happens when your Mum trains you since birth to be a demon hunter.” He faltered a little. “I’m not sure if she knew this would happen, but I wouldn’t put it past her.”

“Your mum knew?” Agnes gasped. “I thought nobody knew about the Entities before the apocalypse!”

“Your cult members must have known, right?” Gerry pointed out, and Agnes nodded in concession of the point. “Yeah, there were always a few of us. Not a lot, though. Tight-knit community, everyone knew each other. Hobbyists, you know. It sucked. Most of the people who got involved in the supernatural were jerks.” Actually, now that Gerry thought about it… “That crazy apocalypse prepper Salasea must be coming out like a bandit right now.”

Agnes nodded sagely, as if she knew who Salasea was. Maybe she did? Gerry had always gotten the impression that if all of the demon hunters knew each other, then maybe all of the demons did too. Eventually word about Mum had really started to get around. 

“You’re the first interesting human I’ve met,” Agnes said thoughtfully. “Most of them just - like, scream, you know? Or pretend I’m not there. Like if they don’t acknowledge me then I can’t hurt them. And, like, that’s the way it works for a lot of these things! But I’m a person too, you know?”

“You really aren’t.”

“I have feelings,” Agnes said firmly. “But maybe the reason why you’re still safe isn’t because you’re a super cool human hunter, Gerry.”

“It has to be a part of it,” Gerry said aggressively, eager to assert his masculinity and how cool he was.

“Of course,” Agnes allowed, making Gerry huff. “But I think it’s because you aren’t scared. You were wondering how I found you, right?” Gerry nodded slowly. He had been wondering how Agnes had caught on that he was living here. “It was because I felt a person - I can always feel body heat - but I didn’t taste any fear. I was setting some row houses on fire just to feel something, and you weren’t feeling anything either!” She set her expression firmly, almost bravely. “I think we’re the same.”

“A goth human teenager living in an attic and a flame princess of the fire cult?” Gerry asked skeptically. They couldn’t be less similar. Gerry lived each day in - well, as Agnes pointed out, not fear, but he was constantly just trying to survive. It was all he had ever known, but he knew that others didn’t live like that. He had known when he was a kid - that other kids were normal, were happy - and he knew it now. That a small handful of people in this world were having a blast, and that everyone else suffered. “We’re nothing alike.”

But Agnes faltered, just a bit, and Gerry just a little bit of that loneliness in her expression again. “You’re the only other kid who’s had a conversation with me.” She paused a beat. “Besides, like, Callum, but he’s a baby.”

Maybe, in a schoolyard or a town or a world, Gerry and Agnes weren’t so similar. Maybe they’d have nothing in common. But maybe, in this world that was both so isolated and so unified, they could be a little similar after all. 

“I’ll allow it,” Gerry said graciously. He wanted to shake her hand, but he deeply knew that it was a bad idea. Instead, he broke his Twinkie in half, and held out the other one to her. “Friends?”

Agnes eyed the Twinkie warily. “Do you become friends by asking to be friends with someone?”

“I dunno, I don’t have any friends.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

But she took the Twinkie. It was a start. 

****

Of course, Gerry and Agnes were far more alike than they had first thought. Mostly in the fact that their evil mothers had killed their fathers (which Gerry had the sneaking suspicion wasn’t a universal experience) and that the both of them were actually kind of literally protagonists of a YA book.

Well, Gerry had always been the protagonist of his own life. But he would write a story about Agnes too: about the spoiled princess who rejected her destiny. Who had a really cool previous life where she was all dramatic and sad and stuff, who died tragically only to be reborn as a magical teenage girl. Seriously, it was right out of a Sarah J Maas novel. 

  Maybe they latched onto each other too quickly, but it was the kind of latching on when you made friends with another kid at the orientation to summer camp and then religiously stuck to the kid once the actual camp started until you got another friend. Maybe. Gerry's never been to summer camp, how was he supposed to know. 

But Agnes was sharply quick, surprisingly kind, and fiercely protective. Gerry had never met somebody who cared as much as her. It was really weird. He supposed that people like her, the powerful and destructive, had the privilege to care. 

Agnes snuck over more and more often, and sometimes Gerry went to go visit her. Eventually they started roaming the streets together, loitering in businesses and committing general acts of tomfoolery. Gerry was an old hat at tomfoolery - he had only been vaguely supervised most of his life - but Agnes encroached every second of minor rule breaking with cautious glee. 

Not that there really were rules anymore. Even if you were the kind of juvenile delinquent that got adults yelling at you and caused minor or major property damage, it wasn’t as if the cops were going to come and take you away. Either you got away with it, or you were eaten for a while. This was very natural to Gerry, and after a little bit of convincing it came easily to Agnes too. Maybe they really were well-suited for each other after all. 

If Gerry’s Mum could see him now, she would call him ‘dreadful’ and ‘ill-mannered’ and ‘badly behaved’. But...she wasn’t there, so she could hardly complain. Served her right.

Months - maybe - later, Gerry and Agnes were hanging out in Gerry’s crawlspace again after a long day terrorizing demons and old men alike. They were splitting a blood orange - literally - and letting the sticky juice (juice?) run down their hands, laughing as Agnes imitated the look of shock on the old man’s face. Sitting down on the floor, flavor bursting sweet on his tongue, as Agnes teased him for dropping peels everywhere...Gerry was almost happy. 

Rookie mistake. 

Agnes sensed it first, stiffening slightly as her body pulsed slightly warmer. Gerry scooted a little further away from her carefully as she turned to look at the thin plaster wall, brow furrowing. 

“Is it a nightmare?” Gerry whispered. “Or a person?”

“Neither,” Agnes whispered back. “It’s…”

Then Gerry heard it too: the clack of nails on hardwood, and a sound so terrifying it made his gut tie itself into knots. It was a growl, bestial and wet. Something was snarling outside.

Gerry stopped breathing, sitting absolutely still. The sounds of sniffing and snarling were loud and distinct, and he couldn’t help but stare at the sticky, juicy, smelly orange in his hands. Agnes was also still, far more completely than Gerry ever could be, carefully listening. 

He wanted to whisper to Agnes, make a game plan, but the monster would hear them. Part of Gerry wanted to tremble in fear, but that wasn’t useful. He forced himself to calm down as best as he could while keeping his breaths minimal. Remember Dune. Fear was the mind killer. Fear is the little death. 

But then Agnes smiled at him faintly, making a gentle gesture with her hand. Agnes was a literal fire messiah. She could take almost any monster. Gerry had never seen her afraid of anything, just contemptuous or annoyed. Having her there with him was more reassuring than any book quote, and Gerry exhaled softly as he smiled back at her. Agnes was going to torch that monster, and it would be super cool, and they’d high five, and -

“Daisy? What are you looking for?”

Agnes’s expression stretched into terror. She mouthed ‘fuck!’, and slapped a hand over her mouth. She didn’t breathe, and her chest never rose and fell, but she abruptly started trembling.

For the first time, Gerry reached out to reassure her. But her body heat had abruptly tripled, and Gerry was forced to pull back. In the small, unventilated space, it quickly became overwhelmingly hot. 

“Shut it off!” Gerry hissed, as quietly as he physically could. “They’ll feel it -”

“That is the most dangerous monster in the world,” Agnes whispered, and Gerry fell silent. “Don’t move.”

For the first time in a very long time, in an apocalyptic world built on terror and fear, Gerry felt afraid. 

A faint yipping echoed through the space, almost like a dog. It could never be mistaken for a dog. 

“Well, yes, there’s people everywhere. Other places have more people, even. Why can’t we just go there?” Another bark, a low bass cut. “Oh, if it’s a Hunt, then it’s alright.”

The heat was growing oppressive, and Gerry frantically motioned for Agnes to cut it out. He was withholding his own ragged breathing, and abruptly Gerry felt as if he couldn’t breathe. It was just making him more scared, the sweat trickling down his neck -

There was another yip, so close it might as well be made in his ear. It clearly came from directly in front of him. 

Gerry couldn’t help it - he screamed, overwhelmed with fire and heat and fear and the wolf at their door. 

The wall exploded.

Dust and insulation burst outwards in a fine white cloud, and Gerry and Agnes were abruptly coughing intensely and the wall cracked, folded, and collapsed inwards. Gerry was showered with fragments of wood and plaster, stifling another scream, and screwed his eyes shut against the sudden influx of light. 

He cracked them open as quickly as he could, unwilling to meet whatever was in front of him with his eyes closed. Instantly, overwhelmingly, Gerry was brought face to snout with a giant wolf.

Gerry firmly believed that people weren’t meant to see apex predators up close. Nobody should be able to touch a bear, was Gerry’s opinion. What was an anaconda? Gerry was on the opposite side of the room. He wasn’t afraid, but he hadn’t made it to the ripe old age of fifteen without being highly cautious. 

It wasn’t right, staring this wolf in the face. Every inch of it stood out to him: the slobber, the snarl, the canines almost as long as his hand. It was silvery white, with a thick ruff and coat, and Gerry watched in awe as the wolf snarled and - 

And stopped snarling. It started looking at him curiously instead, bushy tail sweeping gently side to side. 

The immediate problem almost solved, Gerry was able to take in the figure behind the wolf. 

He was a guy. Unfairly tall, Black with curly hair drawn tight into a ponytail. Sharp features, undercut by unnaturally green eyes. He was in a suit that looked like he had put it on three months ago and had never changed. He was...wearing a trenchcoat? He was just a guy!

“A human!” The man - monster? Guy? Nightmare? Avatar? - cried. “Oh, good job, Daisy! You’re a fantastic investigator.” The wolf - Daisy was a stupid name for a wolf - barked lowly. “Yes, it is like an oven in here, isn’t it?”

Gerry opened his mouth, then closed it. He was still cowering on his ass, covered in dust and plaster. This guy was Agnes’ monster? Maybe she had mistaken him for someone else. “Who -”

“He’s even talking!” The man exclaimed, as if he was a dancing monkey. “They never talk to me voluntarily, you know.” Daisy barked again. “I think it’s cute! Kids are so repetitive, but this one smells great. Good job, Daisy.” 

Before Gerry could protest the man stepped forward and looked down at him, and a sick realization trickled through him. 

The man had nothing behind his eyes. Bright green, sick and churning, radioactive and poisonous. His expression was absent and vaguely curious, like a child watching an ant crawl through its anthill. Slowly, intensely, the man’s placid expression broke into a sharp and demented smile. 

It wasn’t the smile of a human staring at a tasty sandwich. It wasn’t even the smile of a monster drawing a human into a nightmare. It was the smile of a child holding the magnifying glass to the ant: triumphant, because now the child got to see what happens when an ant blackened to a crisp. Elated, because they were the child, and not the ant. Victorious, because they could only remember the distinction in the act of causing harm. 

“Statement of -”

“Leave him alone!”

The monster exploded into flames. 

Agnes leapt from her position in the crawlspace, slightly tucked away out of sight, and shoved at the wolf hard. The wolf yowled, her handprints blackening its fur, and it retreated snarling. 

It was not the first time Gerry had seen someone set on fire. It happened a lot, when you hung out with Agnes. But the man burned, in bright and beautiful red-hot flames, crackling and searing the skin and air and sky. His mouth was open in a silent scream. 

Something green shone from within the flames. 

Then the flames were gone. It was as if he had never been set on fire at all. At most he smelled vaguely of burning flesh, and his hair had broken free of its ponytail to settle in fuzzy waves. 

The monster looked mildly peeved. 

Agnes grabbed Gerry, leaving red-hot scorch marks on his hoodie, and yanked him behind her. Gerry was not embarrassed to say that he absolutely hid behind Agnes as she put herself between him and the monster and his wolf. The wolf who was now snarling deeply at them, and the slightly irritated monster who shook ash off his unharmed trench coat. 

“I don’t care if you called dibs on him,” the monster bitched. “You don’t get to stop me in the middle of a - oh, Agnes!” The monster’s expression brightened as he snapped his fingers. “Agnes Montague, right? Your cult introduced me to you at - what was it -”

“Annabelle’s annual party five months ago,” Agnes said flatly. Her wax hair was still burning at the ends, and although Gerry couldn’t see her expression he knew it had to be fierce. “Nice to see you again, Jon. Now stay away from him.” 

“If you called dibs then you shouldn’t have let me try to eat him,” Jon - which was the dumbest name for an evil monster - complained. He smelled his arm, grimacing. “Setting me on fire’s downright rude, Agnes. Didn’t Jude teach you any manners?”

“Go away!” Agnes yelled. Gerry realized quietly that she was still shaking. “He’s not yours! He’s the one thing you aren’t allowed to hurt!”

Jon frowned at her. Gerry could practically see it: Did_not_compute.exe. It simply didn’t make sense: that there was something in the world that he wasn’t allowed to hurt. That there was something in the world that was not his. 

Before Jon could speak again, his wolf barked harshly at him. She kept barking, completely indecipherably, as Jon’s expression screwed up in uncomprehension. “What does it matter if they’re children.” The wolf barked. “I mean, I don’t actually care if we piss off the Desolation or not.” Bark, bark. “Why are you always guilt tripping me!” Bark, bark, bark, bark. Eventually Jon’s expression turned somewhat abashed, and then downright embarrassed. 

“Right, right.�� He turned back to Agnes and Gerry, a little sulky. “Sorry for trying to eat your human, Agnes. In my defense, he was quite -” The dog yipped. “ - innocent, and I’m sure he’s very fun. Great. Well, this was a waste of time. Call me if you get tired of him, Agnes.” 

Jon turned to go, and Gerry could not see his back soon enough. The heat had died as Agnes calmed down, her arms crossed over her chest and scowling fiercely. 

“Apologize to him!”

Jon froze, halfway across the room. Gerry quietly wanted to die. 

The monster slowly turned on his heel, looking at Agnes with a faintly flabbergasted expression. “You can’t be serious -” The wolf barked again. Gerry had the impression that the wolf was in charge of him. “Stop ganging up on me -” Bark. “I don’t know how to talk to humans, don’t make me!” A very firm bark. 

“Do it,” Agnes said firmly. “Or I’ll set you on fire again.”

Unbelievably, the monster groaned. He turned to Gerry, fluorescent eye twitching. “Alright, alright! Listen, uh - kiddo? Kiddo. I am very sorry that you tasted - I am very sorry that I tried to scar you for life and consume your trauma. I cannot stress enough how it’s nothing personal. There.” Weirdly enough, he looked a little proud of himself. “Hah. Totally rocked that talking to a human thing.”

“Uh,” Gerry said, too dizzy with the events of the last ten minutes to care very much about what he said, “is the wolf in charge of you?”

Even more unbelievably, the man brightened. “I’m her assistant! Not very many people pick that up. You’re very bright, little human. Do you want to pet her?” Jon glanced at Daisy, who looked unimpressed. Very loudly, he hissed at her, “Do children like petting dogs?”

The wolf, somehow, seemed to inform him that yes, they did. 

They were in too deep now. Gerry walked up and petted the wolf. It was fucking awesome. Agnes groaned and pulled him back again very quickly. She seemed a little jealous. The wolf yipped at her and Agnes reluctantly petted the wolf too. 

Jon clapped his hands. “Well! That was very unpleasant. I won’t ask what you’re doing hiding in a wall, Agnes. As a personal favor to you.”

“Thanks,” Agnes said flatly. 

“Tell Diego and Jude that I’m not doing it. Or eating your human. As a personal favor to you.”

“Definitely will.”

“Fantastic.” Jon’s eyes glinted, in the soft light of Agnes’ flames. “I’m very happy you’ve reincarnated into that fun child’s body, Agnes. Children are so tempestuous and impulsive. I wouldn’t have tolerated an adult setting me on fire. You understand that, don’t you?” 

Agnes nodded, almost shakily.

“You understand that for an adult, that would have had very different consequences.”

Agnes nodded again.

“Fantastic!” Then Jon was beaming again, all carelessness and laziness. “Have fun, you little delinquents. Come on, Daisy. I’m famished.”

He swanned off, wolf following closely on his tail. But the wolf looked back as it crossed the threshold, large yellow eyes piercing in a way that Gerry just couldn’t name, before they both disappeared. As slowly and terrifyingly as they had come.

Ten seconds passed, then fifteen. 

Agnes crumpled to her knees and bent over the floor, shaking, and her hands pressed hot scorch marks into the wood. She was still shuddering, and Gerry bent down next to her. He couldn’t physically comfort her, but he could put his hand close to hers on the wood. As close as possible, yet never touching. 

“We are so lucky to be alive,” Agnes breathed, before abruptly groaning. “I set him on fire! I set The Archivist on fire!”

The title tickled something in Gerry’s brain, bringing up an insane amount of questions, but he brushed them all aside. Gertrude was dead - or at the very least, very far away, where she was no good to him. She had to be, otherwise he would have noticed her cutting a swathe through Britain by now. 

“Who is he?” Gerry asked. He didn’t really want to know, but...well, he was himself. He wanted to know everything. It was kind of his whole thing.

Agnes sat down on her knees, rubbing her forehead, and Gerry cautiously sat down next to her. “He’s the monster who sold the world. The most dangerous man ever made.”

“The most dangerous man in the world gets bossed around by his dog?” Gerry asked, before the words sunk in. “Wait, I thought that was Jonah Magnus!”

“Jonah Magnus doesn’t kill people because they annoy him!” Agnes snapped, before she groaned into her hands again. “And I set him on fire…Diego is going to kill me!”

“For what it’s worth,” Gerry said awkwardly, “I’m glad you set him on fire. He was kind of a dick.” He paused again, uncertain of how to say it. “And...thanks for caring, I guess. You really don’t have to.” He shrugged, unwilling to state what had always been unsaid between them. “I’m a human. These things happen to us. You just have to deal with it.”

That was the way of the world. It had always been that way, even before the apocalypse. The strong and powerful and important like Jon kicked around smaller people, and the smaller people just hoped they survived it. 

Gerry was a survivor. Nobody had ever saved him before. Maybe because nobody had ever saved him before. 

Agnes tackled Gerry in a tight, pressing hug. She wasn’t hot at all, just mildly warm - an incredible act of effort and concentration on her part. Her arms were solid and unyielding, never mistaken for flesh, but she clutched at him with a unique desperation. Gerry cautiously hugged her back, letting her bury her head into his shoulder. 

“Not to you,” Agnes whispered. “Nothing bad’s going to happen to you. Not even The Archivist.”

“You can’t promise that,” Gerry whispered. 

“We’re family.” Agnes separated from him, stubbornly fighting boiling tears. “And I’m sick of just dealing with it.”

Gerry opened his mouth, then closed it. “Family?” He said weakly.

Agnes blushed hotly. “If you want!” She tightened her fists on her skirt, winding the fabric between her fingers anxiously. “It’s just that - I know you don’t have anyone...and I have my cultists, but they don’t really care about me, not like you do...and I know it used to be different, that family used to mean something different, but I don’t care about what old people thought family meant. I care about you, and we’re sticking together, so that’s what we are.” She faltered a little. “If you want.”

“Siblings, then,” Gerry said faintly. “If you want.”

And he did want it. More than anything, Gerry wanted this. 

When Agnes smiled at him, and she hugged him tightly again, Gerry was halfway certain that yet another disaster was about to befall them. He knew that meteors were going to strike, that the ground was going to open up and engulf them, that the world would end in fire and ice, because Gerry was so happy it clenched his heart. He was so happy he couldn’t breathe. 

“It’ll be okay,” Agnes said into his shoulder, “we’ll never have to deal with Jonathan Sims again. I promise.”

****

It was not a promise Agnes kept. 

They ran into him again. And again. And again. Eventually, after meeting a monstrous golem of fear and suffering that induced paralyzing fear so frequently, said simulacrum of human experience became slightly tiresome. And you realized that he was, actually, really not that bright. Or at the very least not very mature. And that his wolf sister kind of wore the pants in that relationship. That he and his wolf sister were like Agnes and Gerry, in every possible way. And that he was, weirdly, deeply kind. And that he loved, so bright and pure and fearsome that it had brought down the world. That he was capable of loving Gerry. Maybe even, given enough time, anyone. 

Many months later, as Gerry, Agnes, Jon, and Daisy sat in an ice cream shop splitting blood orange ice cream (with real blood!) and bickering endlessly about if Friends was the Flesh or the Stranger, that Gerry thought he might feel something familiar in his chest. 

Something that clenched his heart, something that made him so happy he couldn’t breathe. Something that felt like fire and ice and meteors and disaster.

Jon must have felt it. He looked at Gerry, surprised, with ice cream slowly dripping from his spoon and congealing on the table. “What’s wrong with you? Are you ill? Agnes, is he ill?”

“No,” Gerry said, wiping at his eyes. “I guess I’m happy again.”

Everybody stared at him, slightly dumbfounded. 

Daisy barked. 

“You’re quite right, Daisy,” Jon said. 

He didn’t tell them what she was right about, and Gerry never asked. He already knew. 

[chicksung]

stray kids reaction to their (idol) s/o being made fun of by fans? if that's not against your guidelines of course!!

Stray Kids reaction to their idol s/o being made fun of by fans

A/N: Hi beauty! Of course not! This is my first time doing a reaction so please bare with me here! Thank you for the request @dreamsaboutnct

Warning/s: cyber bullying, crying, disappointed chan

Bang Chan: When he came home to find your shaking form in waves of tears, he knew something was up. He knew that you were in preparation for a comeback and he thought maybe it was the stress of it, but when you broke down futher in his arms and said that it was the fans that had you in this state, he was speechless.

To say he was disappointed was an understatement. He was baffled when he saw the tweets and comments regarding your appearance, your talent and abilities and even your relationship with Chan.

He decided to host another episode of Chan’s Room that night. As he greeted the fans, he watched the comments carefully, seeing if there was anything negative said about you.

“Now, I actually wanted to talk to you guys. I love being with Y/N. I truly do. But there are some things that need to be addressed. For as long as Y/N and I are together, I expect you guys to respect her and treat her like you would treat me. It breaks my heart to see how many negative comments my s/o has been getting and I am giving you one warning and one warning only. It has got to stop.”

He had never been so strict when talking to stays but he needed to knock some sense into this ridiculousness, but it seemed to work.

The next morning, #RespectYN was trending #1 on twitter and the negativity was outweighed by the positive. Chan smiled as you read out all the cute things fans had written.

“And if anything like this happens again, let me know. I’ll fix it.”

Lee Minho: He hates seeing you cry. In fact, he hated seeing you anything but happy. You couldn’t explain yourself through the tears so instead you showed him your twitter feed, when he read it, he was frozen. How could his own fans do this to you. Not his stay. Everyone seemed to be supportive of your relationship. This was until he saw one tweet and he felt his blood boil.

“I’m not a stay but I am a (y/n’s fandom name) and honestly? Y/N doesn’t deserve Lee Know”

“Come with me.” Minho whispered, grasping your hand tightly and leading you elsewhere.

Sometimes, you really loved being in the same company as Minho. He told his manager and your manager about the whole situation and they said they would bring it up with the CEO.

Not a week later, Twitter once again say something that they knew was somewhat bad.

‘안녕하세요, JYP입니다.’

The article explained that if any further malicious comments were made about either idols, there would be serious consequences in place for the perpetrators found guilty.

Minho took out on a date that day, to clear out all the negative thoughts and feelings in your mind and heart with all the love he could possibly give to you. He really loves you.

Seo Changbin: Changbin immediately pulled you into his arms when he saw the tears on your cheeks. He didn’t need to know if it was dance practice, a conflict between you and your members, or even if it was that time of the month again. All he knew was that you were upset and he needed to fix it. He pet your hair and let you cry out your feelings until your loud sobs slowly turned into soft sniffles.

“What’s wrong, love? What’s got my baby all upset?” He asked you, pulling you away from his chest and wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“It’s the fans. They’ve been telling me that I don’t deserve you and it’s getting to a point that I’m too scared to post on Twitter and Instagram or turn on vlive. I’m so scared, Binnie.”

Changbin needed to find a way to fix this. And what better way than to write a song. He knew it would take a while and he told you to just try and hang in there.

A few weeks later, he dropped his song on SKZ-Player and the response to it was overwhelmingly good. He decided to turn on vlive and he saw a comment asking what the song is about.

“The song is from the perspective of a fan. They really love this idol to the point where they think they will eventually get married to him. However, it shows the developed hatred towards the idol’s partner when the idol announces that he’s dating. I actually wrote this song to express what could possibly be going through a lot of your heads in regards to myself and my own s/o. They haven’t been taking your...’criticism’ too well.”

When he turned of vlive, within minutes, translation of what he had said had spread like wildfire throughout different social media but people seemed to get the message.

Hwang Hyunjin: Hyunjin felt his heart break a little as he heard you blame the fans for your fragile state of mind. He almost didn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Come on babe. Let’s go and get some ice cream and come back to this with a clearer mind.” He whispered before a small peck on your cheek was delivered and he took your hand and headed out the door.

A few days went by and the messages were just getting worse. Hyunjin couldn’t ignore anymore and your state was deteriorating to the point where Hyunjin banned you of your phone and laptop. “If you keep reading them, it’s just going to put you in a worse state than you already are.” He argued.

JYP and your company both released statements concerning the mental health of both idols and if such behaviour was kept up, they would turn off the comments all together. That seemed to get the fans to see just how much their comments were hurting you and your mental state.

Hyunjin smiled when he saw the comments turning from negative to positive almost overnight.

“See? All it takes is a little shove in the right direction for people to realise what they’re doing is wrong.” He said as he cuddled you into his side.

“Ice cream to celebrate?” You asked with pleading eyes.

“Ice cream to celebrate.” He sighed.

Han Jisung: Jisung listened to you talk out your problems. He judged watched you carefully as you vented about the heated argument two of your members had engaged in and now left tension between the two, but since the announcement that you and Jisung were dating, some of the fans were not being so...kind towards you. Your normally weekly vlives slowly became fewer and farther apart as you were too scared to see the comments.

When your eyes got watery, Jisung momentarily forgot everything else in existence. He forgot about the new album Stray Kids were working on, he forgot about his ramen that he was cooking. All his mind was filled of was ways he could make you feel better.

“Wait wait. Stay here.” He said, gesturing for you to stay put before sprinting out of the room. A few moments later, he returned with a blanket and the teddy bear he was planning to give you on your birthday but decided that you needed it now more than ever.

All wrapped up in a blanket and a tub of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream in your hand plus hugs from Jisung, your tears were long dried and gone.

“I’ll speak with my managers tomorrow, but right now, let’s just cuddle for now.”

“I love you.” You mumbled, your voice still a little crackly

Jisung chuckled.

“And I love you just as much...if not more.”

Lee Felix: Felix was always good at reading people’s emotions. He was able to tell when people were angry or sad or just genuinely happy. However, it didn’t take a genius to see that you weren’t doing so crash hot.

“Sweetheart?” He called out as he patted the outline of your figure under your blanket cocoon. All he got was a sniffle in return. He sighed and collected you up in the blanket and scooping you up like a baby.

“Why are you crying, love?” He whispered into your hair as he pressed light kisses to your cheeks and forehead. You just broke down further, the only words he was able to pick up were ‘comeback’, ‘fans’ and ‘hate’.

Felix had a burning dislike for the four letter h word and didn’t really like using it unless he had really strong opinions on it.

“What about the fans, sweetheart?” He reworded his question and that just seemed to make you more upset.

“They’ve been calling me fat, ugly, useless, untalented, and even worse, that I don’t deserve to be with someone as talented and amazing as you.” You cried out, tears falling so often that your chest was constricting.

“Baby, baby, shhh. It’s okay. I’ll deal with this later. But right now, let’s focus on you.” He pressed his lips gently against yours and hugged you tightly. A small smile tugged at Felix’s lips. “Do you wanna bake some cookies with me?”

You’ve never said yes so fast in your life.

Kim Seungmin: Your usually bubbly aura and personality was nowhere to be seen or felt when Seungmin dropped by your group’s dorm on a surprise visit (and partially to congratulate all of you in your first music show win)

When he saw your slumped over figure and your phone in your hand, his first thought was maybe you were tired, but when he looked closer at you and saw the tears, he walked straight over to you and picked your phone out of your hand like a grape.

“Hey! Minnie! Give it back!” You demanded, trying so hard to wipe away your tears. Seungmin ignored your pleas and started to look at what seemed to be the reason for silent crying.

“If Y/N really thinks she can sing, she’s got another thing coming”

“If I got hit by a truck, I’d look like Y/N”

“Can’t believe some bitch named Y/N got to Seungmo before I did”

Seungmin felt his blood boil, reporting each of the tweet for hate speech and turned back to you.

“How long has this been happening?” Seungmin asked, his eyes softening as he gazed over to you, sitting next to you and grabbing your hands.

You sniffed and couldn’t even look him in his pretty eyes.

“A while now...” Your voice trailed off as a new wave of tears cleansed your eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, petting your hair and tilting your chin up to lock eyes.

“I didn’t wanna worry you.” You sobbed out. Seungmin wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you into his chest letting you cry it out.

“What worries me more is that you didn’t tell me and you didn’t tell the company either.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“How about I take you out to that barbecue place you really like? I’ll pay for it.” He offered, tracing patterns in your hands. You smiled and looked up him.

“That would be nice.”

“Go get your coat, sweetheart.”

Yang Jeongin: You were Jeongin’s first serious relationship. He was shy around you even after being together for almost a year. He finally built up the courage and told the whole world that he, I.N of Stray Kids, was dating you, the member of the hottest debut girl group.

That shit spread like wildfire. Even though the majority of your fandoms supported your relationship, more recently some fans, who seemed to be notably younger, had been sending hate, not towards Jeongin but towards you for ‘taking away their oppa away’ from them.

It was a stupid thing to get upset over but as the days went on it, it just got worse and it was starting to chip away at your emotional state.

That’s how Jeongin came to find you, curled up and alone in the middle of one of the practice rooms.

“Y/N! Oh my god, are you okay?” He bombarded you with questions and checking you over for any injuries.

“I’m fine, Innie. It’s just...” You didn’t finish your sentence and just sighed.

“Just what? Please tell me. I wanna help.” He said with his round doe eyes.

“I’m guessing you haven’t been keeping up on Twitter.” You let out a half hearted laugh, trying to put on a brave face as you wipe your nose on your sleeve.

“Is this about...” He finally got the hint when he saw your phone thrown across the room with a new crack in the screen.

“The amount of horrible words that they’ve thrown at me is starting to eat away at me. I hate it, Jeongin. I hate it!” You yelled out the last part before wailing into your hands.

Jeongin wrapped you up in his arms and rocked you back and forth. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back and started humming in your ears. Soon, your sobs were reduced to just small sniffles and he pulled your face of the crook of his neck. His eyes held an idea.

“Follow me. I know what will cheer you up.” He said, pulling the both of you up onto your feet as he guided you through the JYP building.

He lead you up a small staircase on the top floor and swung the door open. He had taken you to the rooftop. The soft noise of traffic below paired with the bright twinkling of the stars made the scene feel like it was something out of a movie. It brought an unfamiliar sense of serenity wash over you and for the first time in about a week, you smiled.

Jeongin laid down on the floor, his head resting on his arms and gazing up at the sky. His gaze cut to you and he patted the empty spot next to him, inviting you to join him.

You watched the stars shine vibrantly above you and you sighed with content.

“Y/N. Don’t you ever forget how much I love you. No matter how bad the comments get, that won’t change how I feel about you. I’m doing a vlive tomorrow night so I’ll address it then.” He told you as you rested your head on his chest.

“Thank you, Jeongin. What would I do without you?”

“I’m not quite sure.”

“Nor am I.”

I hope this was good. I know some were longer than others but I got more inspired the more I wrote it :))

[jacepens]

1: HamilTurn(you can differentiate if needed) or MCU, 2: Washette, 3: Anna Strong

And generally a fandom list would be nice to know what to pick from ;) (Love you♡)

You said HamilTurn or MCU and I say both, I'm going to try my best haha. But anyway, thank you!:) Apologies in advance if this gets rambly, but that's the point of this right? Anyway, for ease of scrolling sake, I'll probably put a cut if this gets long but don't worry, it's just me talking a whole bunch lol. Ok, thank you again!! <3 (love you too!)

1. Hamilton/Turn (fandom)

Favorite character: I have to say Lafayette for both. Oh and Mary

Least favorite character: I have no real reason behind this so sorry but Burr, and Simcoe for many reasons

5 favorite ships: washette, lams, hamliza, benwash, whamilton

Character I find most attractive: ...all. But I have to say overall Brian Wiles as Lafayette. That face just…🥺

Character I would marry: Mary Woodhull or Eliza

Character I would be best friends with: you know I'm not sure, but in an ideal world Lafayette (both versions) or Ben but I feel like we wouldn't be best friends. But also everyone, is that an option? Even some of the "villains" would have good stories to tell

A random thought: I feel like most people in the fandom now are so new (they joined in with the movie release!) and unaware of the uh atrocities of back in the day. And y'all are lucky, but those of us who know. Know. (yes, I was unbearable but that's ok because I was having fun, and despite what I just said: have fun in your fandoms even if you're "unbearable", just keep it welcome to all and enjoy the enthusiasm you have for it:))

An unpopular opinion: Oh boy. Maybe stop making quick judgments about people based on what they write/who they ship? There is a line, but I've genuinely never seen it crossed by anyone at least openly sooo just let people have fun? And don't say anything about something? Unless it's actually harmful but even then, keep it to a dm or something and have an open discussion. Just let people vibe, please? Especially younger fans. Just, I’ve seen a weird amount of negativity towards them. They’re kids having fun, we all used to be like that so please, be kind and patient. They’ll learn if they make a mistake. Ok? Ok cool:) (maybe not unpopular but still I wanted to say it)

My canon OTP: Am I allowed to say lams?

My non-canon OTP: washette, wow, who would've guessed? xD

Most badass character: Mary my beloved

Most epic villain: Robert Rogers hands down

Pairing I am not a fan of: no one murder me, but in general I'm just not a fan of jamilton. also whatever was the deal with Anna and Abe

Characters I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): um. Where to begin? Honestly I think every woman in Turn at one point or another, except perhaps Peggy in my opinion. Oh but especially Anna. Also Simcoe. With Hamilton, probably again everyone at some point, but the way Angelica was written just feels so overwhelmingly fictional it bugs me. (But at least Hamilton had some genuine relationships between women, not great but still)

Favorite friendship(s): Ben and Caleb, Washington and Lafayette (what?? yes, you fools. lol). It may sound a tad ~cringey~ but I generally like Hamilton's vibe with the boys, maybe it's just the gender envy, but it's kinda cute and fun.

Character I most identify with: well jeez, I won't lie but Washington. In both versions, except god knows I could never be that chill. Also a dash of Laurens.

Character I wish I could be: wow what a loaded question ummm. I don't want to be like him, but I want to be like in his position so Hamilton lol. Playing an active role but I know personally I am not cut out for a battlefield, so a desk suits me well.

2. MCU (fandom-that I am so out of date from, please take all of this with a grain of salt)

Favorite character: so when I was younger it was Tony Stark but now it’s definitely Wanda and T’challa

Least favorite character: ummm. I genuinely couldn’t tell you, I’m very out of date

5 favorite ships (canon or non-canon): wandavision, …ngl I can’t think of anymore, I honestly never shipped many and wandavision was like the only couple I remember really liking. Oh, I don’t know them but Loki/Mobius and/or Sylvie

Character I find most attractive: embarrassing confession time, Loki was my first bad celebrity crush. Wanda now and Shuri is cute. Also Sylvie

Character I would marry: if I could, Wanda 

Character I would be best friends with: Vision and Peter Parker

A random thought: y’all it’s been so long since I’ve touched MCU I should catch up/refresh shouldn’t I?

An unpopular opinion: I don’t know if this is an unpopular opinion but I’m going to say it anyway. Personally, I really don’t like the movie Civil War, I think it’s what sorta made me disinterested in mcu. It’s been years since I’ve watched it so maybe I would have a completely different opinion if I saw it today, but at the time it just felt so...wrong? And childish? I literally don’t even remember why they were fighting or how that movie even ended (I feel like it just wasn’t satisfying??) but I think also, as a kid or teen watching that, it reminded me sooo much of the dumb drama that, you know, kids get into. I mean, getting your friends on someone’s side like that?? Like, I know they were mad but- but there are other ways of dealing with emotions??? And involving everyone's friends too? So yeah, it just felt off to me at the time, and looking back now, from what I remember, it just frustrated me. Especially as a kid who deals with dumb drama like that all the time, kids would want to see a better example especially from adult superheroes or at least not be reminded of the bs they have to go through sometimes. But, rant over, that’s all just my opinion:) 

My canon OTP: wandavision

My non-canon OTP: ummm. I guess just Loki/Mobius and/or Sylvie lol

Most badass character: I have to say Natasha but actually there are many

Most epic villain: when I was younger I liked that Ultron was voiced by Robert California from the Office lol

Pairing I am not a fan of: I don’t know if it’s popular but I never liked Tony and Pepper. What happened with her?

Characters I feel the writers screwed up: I guess I’ll say Thor because I just felt such a weird difference in his personality that did not make sense to me

Favorite friendship: Wanda and Pietro!! Honestly I think a lot, there were a lot of good friendships but I can’t think of which ones are my favorite

Character I most identify with: ummmmmm. 

Character I wish I could be: My gut says Thor

3. Washette (ship-bless you<3 get ready for rambles oh no)

When I started shipping them: So I first had the thought in 7th grade while my history teacher was talking about them and my little brain went: haha that’s pretty gay. (teacher keeps talking about them) wait a fucking minute, that is pretty gay! But it wasn’t until I got sucked into Hamilton that I really started actively shipping them by reading fics and what not, but something about them became an instant favorite. And later (little personal story time) I pretty much completely stopped reading fic and being active in fandom for years and actually, when I got my first panic attack that - no joke - lasted for 5 hours, for some reason my brain (as it’s decaying lol) said I want to go and reread all my favorite washette fics and also do what I was I always too scared to do. Write!! So that night I binged the fics and found myself falling in love again, feeling all the old passion I had for them again, and the next night (still very shaken) I wrote an outline of a good ol washette confession + kiss that was extremely thoughtful and good, and honestly, I have not actually used that outline yet! Maybe I’m saving it. But yeah, this is a long answer, but I have a weird amount of attachment to them and this ship, I wish I knew why too. <3 

My thoughts: so many. Too many. First of all, I love that I have so many versions of them in my mind, right? When I started writing, I had never watched Turn but then I did and then it was like: hell yeah, another washette set. At this point, my brain has created it’s own unique version of them but it’s like, they’re so versatile! That’s one neat thing about this fandom as a whole, we get more than one character and personality and that’s just fun right?! More specifically on washette I mean, they’re just so sweet. Historically, their relationship is unique and cute, and you’d have to be a fool to think that to Washington Lafayette was just another friend. Even strictly platonically, it was something special and it’s so obvious I just love them. Ok. Enough thoughts for now <3

What makes me happy about them: the loooove, the comfort they found in each other, the fact that like every person at the time documenting them knew and understood they were special to each other like, they were just that in love. 

What makes me sad about them: oh so much that I try to ignore lol. There is the one year when Lafayette went to France and all his letters to Wash are like: “I have not received one letter from you, but it’s ok, I love you and I know you love me too :)” WHO WAS NOT DELIVERING THESE LETTERS, I HAVE NAMES, NOW I WANT ANSWERS. Anyway, also just most things that happened when Laf went back to France. And then when he visited America in 1824 and visited Washington’s grave. Yeah. ow. (also, you know what, I have done too much research on this event. lmk if you would like a post)

Things done in fanfic that annoy me: Generally, I’m not annoyed by much in fanfic at least with them and what I’ve seen. I’m still nostalgic for the old school nonbinary Laf fics, so it ain’t those. Literally maybe it’s because I’m starved for content but I can’t really think of anything, I love it all.

Things I look for in fanfic: back to the whole starved for content thing, I am a library of washette fics but I think if I was to pick a certain thing that I would love it’s just um fluff? And honesty, if that makes sense. Love confessions are very good as well. Canon era, please :) pining but not too much that it hurts me lol

My wishlist: literally all my wips. If I could whisk them into existence I could die happy and knowing I have put a variety of washette content in the world. Something else though, more fics :’) I love writing but sometimes I want to curl up with a cozy, new washette fic like a cup of hot chocolate and be surprised and learn something new and just..yeah:)

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: what. Ok but actually, Martha and Adrienne because they are both honestly perfect for them and I love them too (I’m going to be biased, especially Adrienne)

My happily ever after for them: Can Lafayette just move the family to America? But also, it’s sad, but like I know Laf would be sad in America while France suffers. So...maybe a world where things in France go better and Lafayette gets to visit Washington more often and bring the family!! (Washington visit France too??)

4. Anna Strong (character)

How I feel about this character: I like her! She’s fun and…strong (oops lol) and she’s made some mistakes sure, but I feel like she did her best to learn from them and move on

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Honestly, I know they didn’t have a lot of interaction in the show but Anna/Mary has potential. And Anna/Edmund

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: her and Ben and Caleb

My unpopular opinion about this character: I really can’t think of anything unpopular

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: in general, her having more screen time with less men you know? I mean like one-on-one kind of scenes. Also I would’ve liked to see at least her and Selah talk. Like, really talk. They never really did that, right? I just have so many questions about them

Favorite friendship for this character: Anna and Ben

My crossover ship: I have no idea

And well, I know it’s been a few days but for a fandom list, I’m just a weeb lol but here

Octopath Traveler (my beloved)

Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Star Wars

Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812

Persona 4

Zelda (to a point)

Pokémon

What We Do in the Shadows

Sailor Moon

Literally anything historical

Ok!! I tried to add a lot because I’m not sure what you might know or not haha. But thank you again!! I had fun <3

[jenonctcity]

Charia Kingdom - Masterlist

An NCT Dream Fantasy Series.

Charia Kingdom - A place that has equal amounts of sunshine and rain, hot and cold, rich and poor, and, humans and creatures that couldn’t be identified as that of human status. Ruled by the Lee family with a king whose cutthroat and unforgiving nature is feared by many. The poor not cared for by people who have everything, where disease takes the lives of those unfortunate enough to not have the funds to purchase medicine. A place where humans live among  creatures many would find terrifying. It’s no secret that Vampires, Werewolves, Wizards, etc live amongst them like normal people. Unless you murder someone, you’re considered normal. Everyone lives their own lives, whether it be a happy life, or a sorrowful life...

Mark Lee - Born into a family of renowned witches and wizards, there came a time for Mark to fly the nest. The nest being their comfortable home in the middle of the bustling kingdom. After the death of the castle’s witch, 17 year old Mark was brought in to take her place. He lives up to his family’s name and has impressed the royal family with his natural talents. Now 20 years old with the trust of the royal family and kingdom, shy, quiet Mark is given a new obstacle when a new maid is brought to work alongside him in the castle. Granted she’s mostly there to clean up his mess, but he finds she plays a much bigger role in his life than just that. With the new light in his life, Mark faces a new task at hand. Keeping her safe from the horrors of the castle. 

Perils Brewing - [S], [A], [F]

Huang Renjun - Being chased from the royal family’s castle at the age of 16 was never something Renjun hoped for when he was growing up. Having lived in the castle since his birth, his mother, the castles witch, raised him alone. After finding out a huge secret and confronting the king, the king has Renjun’s mother killed, leading Renjun to use the dark powers he never knew he had to curse the Prince of the kingdom. After a bounty is put on his head for his crimes, he lives his life on the run, burrowing away in a cabin far out in the depths of the dangerous forest. A place where many lethal creatures live. Now 19, Renjun has lived in solitude for 3 years, and never expected a girl to break into his home in the dead of night. The girl he encounters is on the run herself, but refuses to tell him why. The stubborn, mentally strong, and brave girl persaudes him to let her stay with him. Can he live alongside another being when he’s still got dark magic flowing through his veins and a huge secret heavy in his heart?

Running From The Dark - [S], [A], [F]

Lee Jeno - Being the crown prince of Charia Kingdom was never something that worried Jeno. He was raised by his mother to smile when talked to, and to have a kind heart so that he would rule the kingdom differently to how his father had. At 16, he’s unexpectedly hit by a powerful curse after hearing a ruckus going on in the echoing halls of the castle. It flips his life around, his new status as a werewolf being a challenge he hates with all his heart. It turned the kingdoms sweetheart into an angry, brooding boy. Now 19, Jeno has learned how to control when he phases with the help of the remedies Mark brews for him. The only thing he can’t control is bursting into a gigantic wolf every time a negative emotion takes over his mind. No one apart from the workers of the castle know that he’s a wolf, it being kept a secret from the public. He runs in the forest in his wolf form calm him down, until he comes face to face with a rogue wolf who threatens his life with her piercing glare. After imprinting on each other, Jeno has to learn how to balance his new love, his duties as prince, his burning rage, and a secret that is revealed to him that changes his life once again. 

Stepping Into The Moonlight - [S], [A], [F]

Lee Donghyuck - Donghyuck the cheeky, charismatic boy who wasn't born a demon. As a human Donghyuck was known for his greed and crimes. So when he died at the age of 19, Satan offered him an eternal life in exchange for completing tasks. At the age of 79 he was banished from hell for failing to take the life of someone he decided upon himself didn't deserve to die. For his sin, as punishment he was sent to live on earth forever. Being immortal and watching people you make connections with die from illness, old age, or suicide was a far bigger punishment than dying. Currently 128 years old, he’s seen many of his peers around him die in many ways, and every time it happens it chips away at his sanity and positive attitude. He swore never to fall in love, but upon meeting the princess of Charia, he can’t keep away from her. After falling in love with her, it’s becoming more likely that she will be ripped away from him sooner rather than later. With his emotions flipping completely, can he manage to stop himself from sinning to save the woman he loves?

Coming Soon...

Na Jaemin - At the age of 19, Jaemin was brutally beaten by a knight of the royal family and left for dead. He was found by a creature of the night and turned into a blood craving vampire. Many years later, he’s now 210 years old and lives life one day at a time. He’s rather peaceful for a murderous creature, only being considered dangerous when he’s starved of the only thing he needs; blood. Before his death, he was an orphan, abandoned with only a pile of letters telling him of his true heritage. Something that’s always planted in the back of his mind. After hunting one night, he hears screams coming from the kingdoms small hospital. There he finds a nurse being attacked by a patient. After defusing the attack, he has no other choice but to help the wounded nurse, not being able to leave her there half dead as he was once before. The addicting scent of her makes him keep her around despite the danger that he poses to her by having her in his home. He finds himself doing something he never would have dreamed of doing to keep her around. After finding out about his true heritage, she changes, for the good or bad? Will this be a love story, or a tragedy?

Coming Soon...

Zhong Chenle - Born as an angel in heaven, Chenle had always been obsessed over how humans lived on earth. But forbidden to step foot on earth he had to always watch from above. Turning 18 he decided to take a risk. A risk that lead him to be ripped from his family, forced to live his life on earth like a mortal human. He has his halo taken from him, but is plagued by the wings that have a heavier feeling on his back than what they used to in heaven. Living the life he always wanted, he’s a happy soul, rarely being sad even if he can’t leave the house as much as he would like. His wings are hard to conceal, and with fallen angel’s being a more than rare thing, he’s scared he will be killed for his wings. You’d think if he was killed he would go to back heaven right? Wrong. After being thrown to earth, he had no means of survival other than stealing to stay alive. One night he meets the hyperactive, bubbly girl who works in the local bookstore. A friendship immediately occurs between the two. He soon finds himself falling for the girl and has hopes of living the normal life he always wanted. As he gets used to living as a human does, will life pan out the way sweet Chenle wants?

Coming Soon...

Park Jisung - In human form, Jisung looks like the worlds softest boy. His shy, slightly awkward persona often tricks people into thinking that he couldn’t even fight off a new-born baby. So why has the royal family put this lanky, slender 17 year old boy in front of the castles main gate as its protector when the rumours are that a terrifying dragon is the guarder of the castle. Well, something not many people know about the boy is that he’s a dragon hybrid. And can turn into an overwhelmingly huge dragon that has even the bravest of knights quivering in their chain mail. So far no one has ever gotten past the boy, and he intends on keeping it that way. So when a girl who looks around the same age as him slips past him and is found stealing from the castle, he’s not too impressed. She’s locked away in the dungeon, and the curious boy has to meet the only person to ever get past him. She’s sentenced to death but after pleading with his friend Prince Jeno, her crimes are pardoned, but only if Jisung keeps her with him as his assistant. He encourages her to change her thieving ways, but will he ever be able to change the hard-headed girl he argues with daily? What if you add strange feelings of love into the mix and a promise that one of them doesn't intend on keeping?

Coming Soon...

(A/N: Hi! I’m so excited to for this series I hope you enjoyed the teasers! whose are you most looking forward to? I worked really, really hard on these so please let me know your thoughts and give it loads of love! Also as all of this series hasn't been written yet, things may change in the plots and summaries but it shouldn't be anything too drastic. Also this series will contain smut, angst and fluff. Obviously no smut for Chenle and Jisung, and each story will get warnings and categories marked on them when they’re published.)

[buckleyydiaz]

conflicted looks good on me pt. 2/3

link to part 1 here length: 1.6k

ship: ralvez

summary: spencer tries to talk things out, which helps him more than expected

“Spence, I was wondering, do you see us coming out soon?”

The question took Spencer by surprise. He and Luke had been relaxing together on the couch after a wonderful date, lazily chatting about trivial little things. A question of such magnitude was in stark contrast to the rest of their evening, so it was unsurprising that he was taken aback by it. However, realising that his jaw had likely dropped, Spencer hurriedly tried to mask what he was feeling. Any further reaction could wait until he knew what Luke’s thoughts on the matter were.

“Do you want to?” Spencer asked, attempting to understand if they were on the same page or completely different ones to help make the situation easier on them both.

When Luke smiled and nodded happily, Spencer couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly guilty, knowing he was about to wipe that beautiful grin off of his face. It was far from surprising that Luke felt that way, he was after all, a loud, affectionate and loving person.

Spencer on the other hand, preferred to keep his relationships quiet - for a multitude of reasons. There was a certain niceness to the status quo - not risking any change in the relationship or its dynamics - something risked by coming out. Although he was aware it was irrational as well, he couldn’t help but think that the team would see him differently - being out in theory is one thing, but to be out and dating another man, that was a whole different one.

As always, there were also the insecurities in the back of his mind, ever present, never letting him be. They told Spencer that this was only ever going to end up humiliated as a result of this, that once their friends, family, knew, Luke would break up with him for one of many viable reasons, and he would be left, embarrassed, having expressed his love only to have it be unreturned, at least not returned to the same intensity.

He couldn’t do that, couldn’t go through the process of telling people that no, they weren’t together anymore, and yes, they broke up - not when Spencer would know that it was his fault that something he was so committed to, something he relied on, had come crumbling down.

“I take it you don’t?”

Spencer watched as the light that had previously been present in Luke’s eyes faded, replaced by a glossiness that he tried to pretend wasn’t unspilled tears that he was responsible for. He didn’t say anything, knowing Luke would hate it, because he was trying to hide it, surely in an attempt to avoid making Spencer feel guilty - all to no avail, of course, because he already felt guilty, aware that he was letting his love down.

Seeing that look on Luke’s face was painful - Luke was such a bright, happy person. It was horrible to see him attempting to keep a straight face when he was so clearly upset - and knowing that he was responsible for that look was the final straw for him, and he could no longer even pretend to keep some semblance of a straight face.

“I’m sorry, Luke, I-”

Spencer tried his best to get the words out, to apologise, for not wanting what Luke did, for upsetting him, disappointing him, but his words were muffled by Luke pulling Spencer into his arms. Spencer rested his head in the crook of Luke’s neck as he sniffled slightly, trying to pretend that he wasn’t essentially crying, overwhelmed by all that had happened, all that he was feeling.

He cuddled into Luke regardless, glad for the comfort despite the overall melancholy air to what had otherwise been an amazing day. It was their own little private moment away from their troubles, that was popped by the buzz of Spencer’s cell phone.

As he picked up the phone, he pulled away disappointedly, not wanting to leave Luke.

“It’s Derek, he’s asking me to head over since we haven’t caught up in a while.”

Spencer was going to offer to decline, but Luke beat him to it, surely knowing that, and not wanting him to lose time with his best friend, which was already very minimal between both of their busy lives. 

“Go, have fun! This can wait.”

The badly faked smile on Luke’s face as he said that broke Spencer’s heart, but he didn’t think that he was capable of putting up a fight in his state of mind. As such, he got up and got ready to head out, not bothering to change out of the tracksuit pants and jumper (that was technically Luke’s) that he was wearing.

Maybe Derek would be able to help with some of his issues and reservations - he could tell Derek about their relationship, surely, and maybe that would be a step in the right direction, a step towards making Luke happy that was desperately needed after the debacle that had just occurred.

“Bye Cariño,” Luke called out to him as Spencer got into his old, dusty car and drove off.

The time in the car gave him far too long to spend in his own mind, despite being a very short journey. The guilt of putting such a sad look on Luke’s face, reducing him nearly to tears, was gnawing at him. Spencer hated knowing that he was responsible for that, all because of his own cowardice.

He tried his best to keep his eyes clear of tears and trained on the road, trying to focus all of his brain power on driving, although for him, it was hardly enough to distract him from the war being waged in his mind.

In many regards, Spencer did want to come out - and not just for Luke, but for himself. He wanted to be able to share their relationship with their family, to not have to hide away if one of them needed comfort, to be able to have public dates without driving far enough away that they wouldn’t be seen, but at the same time, his insecurities were stronger than his strengths.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long until he was outside Derek’s house. Spencer missed Derek a lot, and while he was really happy for him, for having a family, for having found happiness, he still missed being able to go to work and see him almost every day. He was a bit upset that Derek had invited him while Luke and Spencer were dealing with the whole coming out matter, but between both of their schedules, he didn’t know when they would next get the chance to hang out.

“Hey Pretty Boy!” Derek said as Spencer wandered in. It looked as though he had been about to ask how he was, before taking a look at Spencer and realising that something was definitely up. His eyebrows furrowed as Spencer got closer and it became even more apparent that things weren’t right. “You okay? What happened?’

They headed over to the living room, which was empty, with Hank and Savannah out with one of her friends. As they walked, Spencer tried to prepare what he could say to explain everything.

“Derek, you know the agent who took your spot? Luke Alvez?” When Spencer received confirmation, he continued on, trying his best to maintain his trust that Derek would never judge him, even though there was nothing really to judge him on. “We’re dating.”

Spencer watched Derek’s face light up with excitement for him.

“Spence, that’s great! He seems like a great guy, and I hope he is treating you well.” Derek then seemed to remember his sadness, his expression a mix of concern and anger. “Is he treating you alright? Is everything okay?”

Realising what Derek was concerned about, he was quick to dismiss that, reassuring Derek that Luke was nothing but a kind, perfect gentleman.

“It’s just… He wants to come out, um, to the team, but I’m scared, Der. I want to be open about our relationship, but if we are, then they all just once again get to watch as another of my few and far between relationships fails.”

Spencer had to take a moment to collect himself - he didn’t need to work himself up to the verge of crying yet again.

“I don’t want that to happen - I don’t want this to fail, let alone have spectators to it all - but I can’t just say no to him either. Not because I am scared of him or what his reaction would be, in fact, it's the opposite. Luke would do anything for me, for anyone he loves, even to his own disadvantage, even if it was tearing him apart - like this undoubtedly will.”

It was hard for Spencer to believe how lucky he had gotten with Luke, who was just so incredible, which is why, just saying it aloud, even without hearing from Derek, he knew what he would have to do.

As such, he cut Derek off before he could properly get into what he was going to say.

“I’m going to do it,” Spencer said, with as much conviction as he could muster. “Thank you for listening to me, Der. You’re the best.”

“Kid, you know I’m always here for you - even if you aren’t even going to listen to what I have to say.”

Derek chuckled, and Spencer did too - years ago, he would likely have apologised, thought Derek was criticising and laughing at him, but he knew better now.

“Do you have time to watch something and maybe have a beer or two before you go?”

Spencer scrunched up his nose at the suggestion of beer. It was something he had never acquired a taste for. He smiled though, and nodded. It would be a nice way to calm himself down before he went home to talk with Luke, to face his fears.

“Okay,” he agreed, “but you better have something to drink other than beer.”

[antheminmyheart]

before the monsters catch up to you (asheijI)

you may also find this oneshot on my AO3 account: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33304801

Rating: T

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

-

In which Ash doesn’t leave the library before reading Eiji’s letter.

-

Dear Ash,

Ash —

I'm worried to death because I haven't been able to see you doing well.

You said we live in different worlds. But is that true?

We have different colored skin and eyes. We were born in different countries.

But we're friends. Isn't that what counts?

I'm really glad I came to America. I met lots of people.

And more than anything, I met you.

You asked me over and over if you scared me. But I never feared you, not once.

What's more is you're hurt much more than me. I couldn't help feeling that way.

Funny, huh?

You're way smarter, bigger, and stronger than me. But I always felt like I had to protect you. I wonder what it is I wanted to protect you from.

I wanted to protect you from fate.

The fate that tries to carry you away, drifting futher and futher.

You told me once about a leopard you read in a book. How you believed that leopard knew that it couldn't go back.

And I said you weren't a leopard, that you could change your destiny.

You're not alone. I'm by your side.

My soul is always with you.

— Eiji Okumura

A breath of air rushes out of Ash’s lungs and he drops his head into one hand. In the other, he clutches the plane ticket, crinkling it. The plane isn’t scheduled to leave until tonight. He has time to pack a few things, find Eiji, and—

But, Eiji already left. Sing said so. Ibe had them scheduled for an earlier flight.

And, Sing left, too. In a rage after he thought Ash was not going to say goodbye to Eiji. They’d nearly been kicked out of the library entirely, but the librarian left Ash alone after Sing made his exit.

Another breath in, much shakier than before. His eyes are wet, tears rolling down his cheeks. He runs a hand through his hair, blond strands hanging in his face.

“Damn it,” he mutters. “Damn it. Damn it.”

He isn’t good for Eiji. Never will be. And, he knows that. But—

Even if Eiji came to his senses, he could still go to Japan. Start a new life there. Dino was dead, he didn’t have to keep running. He didn’t have to do this… this gang shit, anymore.

He doesn’t want to do this gang shit anymore.

And, Eiji…

I never feared you. Not once.

“Eiji,” Ash mutters, rubbing his eyes, “You absolute fool.”

Behind him, somebody chuckles. Ash gasps, rises so quickly the chair clatters on its side. Despite the fact that Dino is dead, that he beat him, the hair still rises on the back of Ash’s neck and he falls into a familiar defensive stance, instinctively reaching for the gun tucked in his jeans, underneath his shirt.

He turns… and his eyes widen.

Eiji.

Hand falling away from his weapon, Ash’s mouth falls open.

Eiji’s eyes brighten when their gazes meet, and he smiles. He lifts his hand and waves his fingers.

“‘Absolute fool,’ huh?” he speaks, voice low as not to disturb the readers around him. “Says boy afraid of pumpkin.”

It takes a lot to catch Ash off guard. He looks down at the letter in his hands, then back up at Eiji.

“I— How—“

“I leave Ibe-san many times,” Eiji says, easy smile still on his lips, “One more could not hurt. And…”

“‘And?’” Ash breathes out.

“I hope,” Eiji continues, “When I do go back to Ibe-san… you will… come with me?”

A lump rises in Ash’s throat. Eyes welling with tears again, he strides forward and grabs Eiji, clutching him to his chest, holding him as tightly as possible.

A few inches shorter than Ash, Eiji turns his head and presses his face to Ash’s neck. He smells overwhelmingly of gunpowder and leather, but something fainter lingers. Something… sweeter. Something good.

“I’m no good for you,” Ash mumbles in his ear.

When the hug breaks, Eiji takes a small step back and looks up. He raises a hand, rests his palm lightly to Ash’s cheek.

“You are good, Ash. You will always be good to me.”

Ash’s breath hitches.

“Eiji…”

Every instinct is telling him to pull away. Pull away, walls up, raise fists, fight. He cannot remember the last time, if ever, he’d allowed anybody this close, consensually.

But, Eiji’s eyes are warm. Sable, smooth. Safe. Soft…

Ash leans in, slowly so Eiji may stop him. But, they meet, and Eiji’s lips are as soft as his eyes. Soft and warm, pressing against his. Ash’s eyes flutter closed and he reaches for Eiji’s free hand, intertwining their fingers. Eiji’s other hand still rests against Ash’s cheek, the gentlest touch Ash has ever known.

Eiji makes a soft noise in his throat that warms Ash from head to toe. The kiss pulls apart, but they stay close, foreheads resting together.

“You will come with me?” Eiji asks again. They still stand so close that, even though their kiss has broken, their lips brush together when Eiji speaks. “To Nippon? Home?”

“Eiji,” Ash breathes out.

Eiji’s eyes are wide and earnest. He squeezes Ash’s hand.

“All right,” Ash whispers, “I’ll go.”

Eiji’s face lights up in a grin. He throws his arms around Ash, squeezing tight.

“Arigatou, Ash! Arigatou! Arigatou!”

Ash raises his arms to wrap around Eiji and he simply holds him for a moment before letting go. His heart swells in his chest, feeling hope.

“You have luggage?” Eiji asks as they pull apart again. “You need to pack?”

Slowly, Ash shakes his head. “Most of my clothes are things Dino bought me. I don’t want any of that.”

Eiji winces, but he nods. “We will go shop back home!”

“Excuse me,” the librarian calls out. They look up at the same time to see her put a finger to her lips.

“Come on,” Eiji whispers, pulling Ash by the hand, “We can go.”

“What about you?” Ash asks, voice low. “Don’t you have luggage? Any suitcases?”

Eiji nods, expression serious. “Luggage made it on plane with Ibe-san. Eiji did not.”

A slow grin, perhaps the most genuine Eiji has ever seen from him, spreads across Ash’s face. “Ibe-san’s going to kick my ass when he sees me next. I’m a terrible influence.”

He meant it as a joke, but Eiji is all too serious when he shakes his head. “Ibe-san want you safe, Ash. Same as me.”

It takes a moment for Ash to respond.

“I… appreciate it,” he mumbles.

When they exit the library, Eiji pulls Ash to a stop before they descend the stairs. He presses his lips to Ash’s briefly, his hands pressed flat to Ash’s chest.

“You,” Eiji mumbles, “are much more than I ask for when I come here with Ibe-san.”

Ash sweeps a strand of hair from his eyes as he responds, “Well, you are much more confident than you were when we met a year ago.”

“Learn from the best,” Eiji smiles.

Ash’s hand is warm when Eiji takes hold of it. They walk hand-in-hand down the library’s steps and down the street.

It’s a clear, comfortable day, and they have a few hours before their flight is to take off. When Ash lets go of Eiji’s hand, it’s only to wrap his arm around Eiji’s shoulders, and Eiji leans comfortably into his side.

But, things change in the blink of an eye.

And it’s already too late

(a flash of movement)

when they realize

(blade glinting in the air)

what is happening.

Somebody screams, and it takes Eiji a moment to realize that Ash isn’t the one screaming. Ash was stabbed, but he is not the one screaming.

It is Eiji.

Gunpowder fills Eiji’s nostrils almost before he realizes a gunshot has gone off. Ash’s assailant falls away, writhing in pain.

Lao.

It’s Lao.

(“Why didn’t you see me coming?!”)

But Eiji is so focused on Ash that he does not care where Lao goes.

“Ash!” Eiji screams. “Ash! Aslan!”

Ash’s arm has fallen away from Eiji’s shoulders and he covers his wound with his hand. Blood, thick and red, too red, flows between his fingers.

Eiji doesn’t know a thing about stab wounds. Or any wounds, really. But, it looks bad.

It looks lethal.

“Ash!” he screams again. A litany of cuss words, Japanese mixing with English, falls from his lips.

Ash crumples, falls to his knees in the street. Eiji falls with him, never letting go, blinded by his own tears.

“Ash, we need hospital! Tasukete! Tasukete! Kinkyü! Kinkyü!” Eiji sobs and attempts to press his hands over the wound, staining his own fingers with Ash’s blood. Hot, thick, sticky.

Ash moans. “Eiji…”

“Ash,” Eiji cries, “I-I don’t know if I carry you, I—“

“Eiji,” Ash whispers, “It’s all right.”

“Wh-What?”

“Eiji,” he says again, “I’m okay.”

“No, Ash, you—“

“Eiji.” He speaks Eiji’s name over and over, repeating it like a prayer. “Kiss me.”

“What? Ash—“

“Please.” A ghost of a whisper.

Crying, Eiji leans over Ash. His tears fall over Ash’s face like rain.

He tries to ignore how dull Ash’s green eyes are beginning to look.

“Aslan Jade,” he whispers, “Jade like your eyes.”

And then he kisses him. There in the street.

Ash’s mouth is just as warm, just as soft, as before, but his lips are shaking and he tastes like salty tears. Eiji forces himself to keep his eyes open, watching as Ash’s own eyes struggle not to drift closed.

When Ash starts to choke, Eiji pulls away. He coughs up blood, most of it dribbling out the side of his mouth, down his neck.

“Ash,” Eiji whimpers. “Please don’t. Please don’t.”

He shifts, cradling Ash’s head in his lap. They are both covered in blood, but he can’t bring himself to care and he clutches Ash’s hand like a lifeline.

He does not, can not, will not look away from Ash’s eyes. Jade green eyes that grow dimmer and dimmer.

Until, finally, Ash’s light flickers out completely.

Until, finally, the fingers curled around Eiji’s own go limp.

Until, finally, Ash stills.

He knows that somebody will find them eventually. So, Eiji curls over Ash’s body, the two of them alone in the street.

And he weeps.