#or not. and either way. why are our families watching us reiterate that information.

[unopenablebox]

attempt to idly discuss concept of custom wedding vows with 🌸 ground to a halt after the realization that neither of us actually, like, wants to try to figure out what the fuck we'd be promising

can you do custom vows, but instead of vows to do stuff, it's just a list of the superbly good qualities of the other person in order to make it clear why any rational actor would agree that you should obviously plan to keep hanging out with them as long as possible

[melzula]

The Throne

part two

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

summary: Sokka goes undercover and Katara and the Princess encounter an unlikely ally

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

The royal square is bustling with activity as the water tribe gets ready for the new day. Merchants prepare their stands and the guards on night watch hand over their position to the morning relief, and everyone is simply much too busy to notice the three teenagers who sneak into the palace and past the guards towards Koa’s office. You lead the way, Sokka by your side while Katara keeps watch from the back, and all three of you are dressed in the exact same shade of blue that lines the inside of the palace. Koa’s office is just around the corner, and it’s with the motion of your hand that you stop your little troop and watch him emerge from the room. His eyes are shifty as always, gauging his surroundings as he locks the door shut, and it’s only when he’s completely out of sight that you rush out from the shadows.

“Sokka, the door,” you instruct, both you and Katara with water at the ready as you keep watch over the boy who gets to work on picking the lock. The transition period between the guards means there’s no one around to catch you, but you can never be too careful with these sorts of things.

Sokka is able to break in within a matter of seconds, allowing the three of you to hurry inside before shutting the door behind you. Koa’s office is neatly organized, so you should have no problem searching through his things for evidence; you take his desk, Katara looks through his shelves, and Sokka keeps an eye on the door in case anyone decides to make a surprise visit.

“You know, this is not how I pictured my first visit to the palace,” Sokka says with a slight frown.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize sincerely, pulling your mask below your chin as you meet his eyes. “Trust me, I wish it didn’t have to be this way either, and I wish I didn’t have to bring you both into this but it’s the only way we can make things right. Koa doesn’t care about the tribe, he only cares about himself, and if my mother and I don’t get the throne back soon there’s no telling what he’ll do.”

“I think I’ve got something,” Katara says, holding up what looks to be a journal.

“What’s it say?” Sokka asks as the two of you peer over her shoulders at the page.

“He’s got everything in here. Notes, check lists, calendars with important dates.”

“You know, for a villain Koa is super organized,” Sokka notes thoughtfully only for his sister to elbow him in the side.

“It looks like there’s a few pages missing from the book,” she says with a frown. “He must have known y/n would come snooping around eventually and taken out the important stuff.”

“But look here,” you say with a small gasp, “according to this he’s hosting a meeting with his supporters tonight in... the tunnel?!”

“You mean your secret tunnel with Zuko?"

“Yes! Oh, I can’t believe him!” You exclaim with disgust. “First my throne and now my secret tunnel?!”

“Don’t worry, Princess,” Sokka vows earnestly, “I’ll go to that meeting tonight and get down to the bottom of all of this. You and Katara keep snooping.”

“We might have to take a rain check on the snooping,” Katara says, “someone’s coming.”

The three of you are quick to scatter out of the office, Sokka going down one hall and you and Katara going down the other. There’s nothing you can do now other than wait for Sokka to come back with more information, and you hope to the spirits that things will turn out okay.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t the first time Sokka’s had to play detective,” Katara consoles you, “we’re going to get that dirt on Koa.”

“For the sake of the Southern Water Tribe, I hope you’re right.”

~~~

Choruses of laughter and lively chatter drift through the tunnel as Sokka approaches the entryway with a confident though causal gait and a charming smile, but this demeanor isn’t enough to get him past the guards who immediately block his path the moment he steps towards the entrance.

“State your business,” the taller of the two says.

“This is the secret anti-Princess meeting, right?” Sokka asks. “I too would like to participate in the slandering of y/n.”

“Aren’t you a friend of the Princess?” The other guard questions, his gaze narrowing suspiciously at the obviously nervous Sokka.

“A friend? Pft! Yeah, right! If by friend you mean enemy!” He scoffs a little too dramatically. “She thinks she’s so great with her... big crown... a-and pretty face... and fancy water bending?”

The two guards exchange quiet glances, and for a moment Sokka fears he’s been caught, but to his delight the two clear the way and allow him entry to the meeting. A good amount of men stand about conversing, most of them strangers to Sokka considering they’re not from his village, and it is because of this that he is able to easily blend in and walk about eavesdropping on the different conversations without being noticed.

“Koa’s going to strengthen our tribe, you’ll see.”

“The Princess will never live up to her father. I bet she cares more about her Fire Lord boyfriend than her own tribe. Koa says it’s true.”

“Koa said it was Prince Zuko who killed Chief Tukon. How can someone be with the person responsible for their own father’s death?! She’s obviously lost her mind.”

“She doesn’t deserve the throne. She’s selfish, she’s childish, and she isn’t even a very good water bender. Did you see her hands? If that were me I wouldn’t have gotten burned.”

“Wow, you guys are seriously misinformed,” Sokka mutters under his breath, his jaw clenching as he bites back the urge to defend your name. Luckily, all conversation ceases as Koa appears at the center of the room, preventing the boy from blowing his cover with an angry outburst.

Sokka scrambles to follow the movements of the other men, most of them guards and a handful of them villagers, but all salute Koa and express their praise for the man who gives them a pleased smile before raising his hand to silence the men.

“Thank you all for coming here. I admire your perseverance and your dedication to the cause. With the rise and fall of the sun a new day approaches, and with each day that passes the Princess continues to fall short of her duties. What has she done other than take part in a mediocre party she threw for herself? What of the rest of us, the men trying to rebuild our lives in the wake of her absence?”

Oh, I don’t know, maybe saved the world, Sokka thinks bitterly to himself. Man, this guy is so lucky Zuko isn’t around.

“Under my rule we could get the Southern Water Tribe back to its rightful place in the world. We don’t need the Fire Nation or our sister tribe or anyone else. Trust in me, and you will have everything you should ever desire.”

“But our sister tribe is our ally,” one of the men says, “I have family there. Shouldn’t we remain in contact?”

“What has the North ever done for you?” Koa sneers, quieting the man and only further fueling Sokka’s hatred for Koa. What does he know?! “Once the Princess is taken care of, the North will be next.”

All the men look upon one another uneasily, but no one dares speak against Koa. Attacking their sister tribe doesn’t seem right, but surely he knows what’s best for them?

“How are we going to take care of the Princess?” Sokka calls from the crowd, deepening his voice and ducking down in the back so as to not draw attention to himself.

“I’m glad you asked,” Koa says with a sinister smirk. “She’s overstayed her welcome for much too long. It’s time we drove her out of the palace once and for all.”

“And how will we do that, sir?”

“A mutiny.”

~~~

“Princess?” Kai splutters in surprise at the sight of you and Katara standing in his front doorway.

“Kai, I know this is a lot to ask of you but I need you to let me go through your father’s things,” you say.

“Okay,” Kai shrugs simply, prompting you and Katara to exchange surprised glances.

“Wait, really? You’re not going to even ask why?”

“I know my dad’s a jerk, and I know you’re doing your best to put the tribe back together,” he explains simply as he leads the two of you to his father’s bedroom. “He’s honestly been kind of a pain lately, and I feel like he’s going to do more harm than good. Why shouldn’t we try to stop him?”

“Wow, that’s really noble of you,” Katara murmurs slowly.

“Maybe if he’d been a little nicer to me I might have reconsidered helping you, but it is what it is. You have plenty of time to explore, but I’ll keep watch just in case he comes back early.”

“Thank you, Kai. Honestly, you have no idea how much this means to me,” you profess earnestly. The boy smiles shyly in return.

“Anything for you, y/n,” he replies, and with that you and Katara are off in search of more evidence.

“I hope Sokka’s doing okay,” you murmur softly as you shuffle through Koa’s things.

“He knows what he’s doing,” Katara consoles you. “You know he’d do anything for you.”

“Yeah, I know...”

“Hey, I found the missing pages!” Katara says, her brows furrowing as she reads over the notes.

“What is it?”

“These notes... They’re plans to invade the North.”

“What?!” You exclaim in surprise as you join her side and peer over the handwriting. “That’s impossible! There’s no way anyone will go along with that.”

“Not according to these papers. ‘Every man is expendable. Do whatever it takes and get rid of anyone who tries to get in the way,’” she reads carefully. “Koa isn’t just trying to take your throne away, but the Northern throne too.”

“He always used to make subtle suggestions about the North to my father when he was advisor, but I never knew they were this serious...” you utter solemnly. “We have to stop him before it’s too late.”

“Y/N! Katara!” Sokka shouts, startling the two of you.

“Sokka, quiet down! You’re going to get us caught!” His sister scolds. “What is it?”

“Koa wants to invade the North!”

“We know that already!”

“Yeah, well do you also know that he and the guards are staging a mutiny three days from now against y/n?!” He reiterates. Your face pales with worry and your stomach begins to sink as you process the news Sokka has just delivered.

“A mutiny?” You squeak, the two siblings immediately ceasing their bickering to rush to your side and comfort you. You try to hold back the tears, but you can’t help the way your shoulders begin to shake and your bottom lip begins to quiver. “I really am a failure...”

“No, don’t say that!” Katara protests, pulling you into her arms for possibly the tightest hug you’ve ever received in your entire life. “None of this is your fault.”

“But it is! You and my mother say it’s not my fault but none of this would have happened if I hadn’t left home!”

“Y/n—”

“And I know what you’re going to say, and no, I don’t regret leaving. I don’t regret any of it because then I wouldn’t have Zuko or Iroh or Suki or you guys. But that doesn’t change the fact that my selfishness has now put both tribes in danger. I’ll never be the leader my father was.”

“No, you won’t,” Sokka says much to your surprise, carefully wiping away the tears that fall down your cheeks. “You’ll never be your father, because you’re not supposed to be like him. You’re you, Princess y/n of the Southern Water Tribe, master water bender and rightful heir to the throne. You can do this.”

“We believe in you, y/n,” Katara reinforces firmly. “And we’re going to help you get through this. No matter what.”

“Thank you,” you sniffle, wiping away your tears before holding your chin high. “You’re right. I can’t get anything done if I just sit here and cry. If Koa wants a fight then I’ll be ready for a fight. Sokka, Katara, I hate to ask this of you but is there any chance your father and his men will be willing to help?”

“Dad already said he’d be here to help if you needed it. Our village is just as eager for the end of Koa’s reign as we are,” Katara says. “They’re falling apart without the resources Koa promised them.”

“We know what’s coming and we know what to do,” Sokka reiterates. “We’ll be ready for Koa.”

“And that’s a promise.”

~~~

The flames of the fire that surround the throne glow brilliantly along the palace walls and bathe the room in a peaceful light. On the throne sits Fire Lord Zuko, his knee bouncing anxiously as he awaits the arrival of his servant. He hopes the delay means there’s news waiting for him, but when she arrives empty handed Zuko deflates.

“There was nothing?”

“We received no new letters from the Southern Water Tribe,” she replies solemnly, bowing her head in respect. Zuko is silent for a moment as he does his best to quell his panic.

“I see,” he murmurs thoughtfully before reaching into his robe for the scroll safely tucked away inside and unraveling it to look over his own letter.

To my beloved Princess,

I haven’t heard from you since I last saw you, I hope you’re alright. I’m sure you’re doing amazing things for your tribe, and I couldn’t be more honored to call you my girlfriend. I wish you only the best and hope this letter finds you well. Please write me back when you can just so I can sleep soundly knowing you’re okay and safe. I love you.

- Zuko

“Make sure this gets to Princess y/n,” he orders as he hands the scroll to the servant.

“Yes, my lord,” she replies earnestly before scurrying off to deliver the message and leaving Zuko to stew in his own thoughts.

“Spirits, help me,” he sighs with a tired rub of his eyes. It’s been a long week and each day that passes without word from you is another day of agonizing torture. “Please be okay...”

You really should have told Zuko about Koa from the beginning.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @zukh03s @taeeemin @user12345321 @just--artemis--with--ghost @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @neighborhoodpansexualdisaster |

[i-may-have-a-point]

Review of 17x14 “Look Up Child”

It has been three years since I wrote my last review of a Grey’s Anatomy episode.  After Sarah left, I stepped away from my fan accounts and did not plan on ever looking back.  Somehow though, through the dedication of our captains and the strength of the Japril fandom, we got one more episode that confirmed what we have known all along – Japril is forever.�� 

The episode opens to Jackson driving through a storm and we can see in his eyes that he is fighting an internal storm as well.  He winces at his injured hand while his mind flashes through thoughts of holding Harriet with April for the first time, the pain of watching April marry Matthew, and meeting his dad.  These moments, along with many others have led Jackson yearning for more out of life, and so he returns to Montana hopeful he will find answers there.

The last thing Robert Avery expects, for a second time, is to find the son he left behind standing in the doorway of his restaurant.  

“Everybody alive?” Robert asks.

Jackson making this journey again, after the way they left things before, could only be for one reason in Robert’s mind.  Jackson reassures him that is not the reason he came, and Robert relaxes easily into his friendly charm, offering coffee and a place for Jackson to “take a load off.”  He has no idea of the “load” Jackson truly bears.

Robert is awaiting the arrival of his co-worker so they can deliver pre-packaged meals to families in need in their community.  This gesture may seem small, but to Jackson, this is a subtle sign that he on the right path.  There is more he can do than what he has found within the walls of Grey-Sloan Memorial. Their small talk is awkward, and Jackson wants to get right to what he came for – answers.  Robert has other ideas.  There are sandwiches to be made and they can talk while they work.

After following Robert to the porch, Jackson realizes this sandwich-making process is going to be more time-consuming than he thought.  And so is getting the answers he came for.  He reiterates to Robert that he doesn’t want anything from him – not turkey, not coffee – just answers.

Jackson presses his dad for information about why he left the foundation, the problems he saw with it, and Catherine’s perspective on it all while Robert deflects the questions with vague answers and praise of the ham and turkey sandwich.  Robert is not ready to answer these questions because answering them would mean dealing with the memories of the past and the regret he carries.  So instead, he smiles kindly and puts Jackson in charge of the meat slicer, which leads to the first moment in Jackson’s life where his dad taught him how to do something. (Although we all know he didn’t teach him well!) This interaction allows Jackson to let his guard down just slightly and they find they have some common views on the Avery name, money, and pressure that comes with it all.  Jackson tries some of Robert’s “best in the state” turkey and Robert opens up about his own shame and abandonment by his father. It seems pain runs through generations of Avery men.

Maybe it is that realization, or the cup of Robert’s coffee in his hand, that makes Jackson relax enough to begin opening up.  He shares his desire to do more to change the system has seen fail so many people.  He isn’t even sure if he can, but he knows he feels compelled to try.  Robert agrees that people should do what makes them happy.  He did and he “never looks back.”

But Jackson does.  He can’t stop looking back and wondering why his dad was absent from every moment that mattered.  

“I realize that it’s really messed me up…pretty badly. And, um, it just made it hard to maintain relationships and stuff.  Having this inclination to run away all the time.  And I know, I know, running away doesn’t actually solve anything.  I know that. So…and I’ve tried.  I’ve tried really hard to rid myself of the shame and the pain that comes with all that, and uh, you know just kind of doubled-down on being the best at everything – the best father I could possibly be.  I probably stayed in my marriage longer than I should have, went along with foundation business longer than I should have, but no matter what, when it gets rough I just end up right there, running into the woods trying to fight the you in me.”

What begins as a tearful explanation builds to all of Jackson’s pent-up emotions overflowing at his dad.  He is distracted and emotional, cutting his hand on the slicer with blood pouring out, while his heart pours out at the same time.  

Robert tends to Jackson’s injury, and they both feel it is a simple gesture that holds more weight than they know what to do with.  Robert tries to make light of the situation by joking about a family practice, but it is the idea of them as family that sends Jackson to find fresh air on the porch. It is here where Robert finally answers Jackson’s question of “Why?”

Running is what Robert does when things get too difficult, and that is what makes Jackson so afraid. He feels the same pull.  Just before he cut his hand, he was running down the long list of things he feels he has done wrong. Does he truly believe he stayed in his marriage too long?  No. But to Jackson that is just one more way he is like his dad.  He is so messed up by the fear of turning into Robert that he breaks things off before they get too difficult, before he gets to the point Robert did.  If he can maintain a safe distance to the important things in his life, he won’t lose them and he won’t be like Robert.  “My divorce…maybe that would have been a good time for you to step in and share some wisdom.”  This isn’t who Jackson wants to be, but he is too scared of moving in either direction – scared of moving both toward or away from the things that matter, like April.  So instead, he suffers in an ambiguous middle ground.  One where he hasn’t completely abandoned anyone or anything and one where he hasn’t fully committed to anything either.  It is a balance he has tried to find for years, but it is also what is breaking him now.  

Truth be told, even Robert cannot fully run from what matters.  From his cabin in the woods, he admits that everyday he regrets leaving, and he buys gifts for a little girl he has never met in hopes that one day he will.

“You’re not a runner. If you were, you’d have been long gone by now…you have it in your soul to do the right thing.  To makes things right.  And you didn’t just fix a disaster, you made it better…on your worst day, you are ten times the man I am.”

And it is with those words Jackson makes his decision.  He is going to do the right thing.  He is going to take what seems like a disaster and make it better.

Arriving back in Seattle, Jackson goes straight to the people who matter most.  

Catherine is his first stop. He needs her blessing to take over the foundation.  Their money and influence can make life better for all people by bringing justice and equity to medicine and build a better future for Harriet.  Catherine’s Mama-heart breaks a little to see him go, but she cannot deny how proud of him she is.

With the rain still coming down, Jackson rings April’s doorbell and stresses over how he is going to approach asking her to move across the country for him.  How can he explain to her that this is not impulsive, this is not something he is doing on a whim?  

Yet, when the door opens, all his insecurities are quickly forgotten because seeing April only reminds him of why they have always been each other’s person and how she has always trusted him no matter what.  She trusted him the night of the boards with her heart and virginity, she trusted him with the decision to induce her pregnancy with Samuel to stop his pain, and she trusted him to run away from her wedding and the life she thought she was supposed to have.  But this is different.  So much has changed in the past few years.  Would she trust him now?

Jackson will have to wait to find out, though, because April is frantic.  Harriet is sick and April cannot get her fever down.  Jackson sees how stressed she is and immediately gives April what she needs.  He takes Harriet into her arms, both consoling her and helping April calm down and have a moment to breathe.  They fall into their usual banter and affectionate teasing.

Their conversations and interactions throughout the episode give us small glimpses of what we should have had the past several years had their story been written they way it should have been.  They naturally fall into their place as the loving, concerned parents unable to sleep while caring for their daughter.  They move through the house and around each other as if this is a familiar dance that they have done hundred times before.

Harriet’s sickness doesn’t seem to be the only thing April is stressed about.  Her living room is strewn with laundry and she quickly tries to clean it up while Jackson reassures her in his “bank voice” that it is fine. Too many pillows, but otherwise, fine. Jackson continues Daddy Duty by dancing with his daughter and April gets a chance to take a much-needed shower…until the storm knocks the power out.

Jackson and April alone at night in a storm, surrounded by candles, is the perfect set-up for an epic reunion, and while they may not have utilized the kitchen counter like we wanted them, too, they did reconnect on a level of clarity and maturity that shows how much they have grown.

There is also that not-so-little issue of Matthew.  Japril fans spotted early on that April was missing a particularly important ring, but it was even more telling when Jackson asked her directly if her and Matthew are happy, and she responded with simply, “We are busy.”  For a marriage that the terrible writing of season 14 wanted us to believe was ordained by God, how sad that you can’t even pretend to be happy. That one line conveyed so much more than what was stated.  It was clear from that point that Matthew and April’s marriage was over.

April is not the only one beating around the bush.  She quickly calls Jackson out on his “cagey” behavior of commenting on her exposed brick instead of saying why he actually showed up at her house late at night in the middle of a storm.  She can read him so well she knows there is something more, which is when we finally find out his plan – he is going to take over the Avery Foundation. The catch is, that means Jackson, as well as April and her family, have to move to Boston.

April responds by questioning if this is what Jackson actually wants because it never was before.  Is he going to move to Boston and then fail or regret his decision?  And while this seems unsupportive and harsh, April has to ask these questions because, as we find out later, that is exactly what happened to her.  She thought she was choosing the right path by marrying Matthew, but not only has their marriage failed, she regrets that they even tried. But Jackson doesn’t know this yet, so to defend his decision he uses Matthew proposing to April as an example of how he unconditionally supported her which not only hints at Jackson’s jealousy, but reinforces April’s fear that making a decision this big may not be the best choice.  She sees happiness for Jackson in the safe choice.  He can continue to rebuild faces, give little boy’s hands, and help people breathe again.  Maybe if she can convince him to stay with what he knows he won’t feel the hurt she is feeling right now. “Why would you want to give all that up?”

Jackson knows he can do all of that and more in Boston.  He can make a positive change in medicine, April can continue her work with the homeless, and Matthew will just follow because it is April, and that is the one reason Jackson likes him.  “He is gonna want to follow you anywhere.”  Jackson understands the urge to follow April anywhere.  The night continues with wine, snacks, and comfortable conversation but they don’t come to an agreement on what their future holds.

The storm breaks and morning comes.  Jackson, recognizing that April has been overwhelmed lets her sleep in, and she wakes up to the sounds of Harriet and Jackson happily eating breakfast and we get a glimpse of their happy, family mornings that we all know Boston will bring.  The three of them laugh and talk over pancakes, orange juice, and throw pillows and April admits that she should have been more supportive of Jackson’s plans.  If only they could get their timing right.  

The morning has brought with it clarity for April and she tells Jackson her answer is yes.  Yes, she believes he is “that guy.” Yes, she believes this could work.  Yes, they are going to Boston.  Shocked and surprised, Jackson offers to help talk to Matthew, but we find out that won’t be necessary.  As most of us suspected, the marriage that should have never happened is over.  One of the best lines of the episode is the slight dig that the writers (Sarah/Jesse?) took at the ridiculous story of April marrying Matthew.  “We kept trying to tell ourselves that our whole winding road was God’s plan to bring us back together.  But he was still so angry and hurt.  I mean, I left him at the altar and his wife died.  You know, you don’t just stop feeling hurt ‘cause it’s a better story if God brought us together in our pain.”  Enough said. And as much as we are not sad to see Matthew go, April is hurting, and Jackson recognizes that.  He takes her hand in a small gesture of comfort because he never wants to see her in pain.  (Thank you, Jesse, for improvising that.)  He gave her a reason to smile again.  Their family has a fresh start ahead in Boston.  

The episode closes with Harriet calling out for “Mommy and Daddy” as Jackson pulls April into a hug before leaving to prepare for their move, and April folds perfectly into his arms where she is supposed to be.  Fingers crossed for new horizons.  Maybe they finally did get their timing right.

[fleabagdiaz]

leaving home ain’t easy

madney, 2.7k, s5 speculation fic (sorta)

read on ao3

Chimney doesn’t think he’s ever been this tired in his life. Getting used to the whole dad thing has been hard enough, and now on top of it he’s pulling extra shifts to make ends meet, and staying up all night worried about his family. The sleep he does get is frequently interrupted by wordless cries, real or imagined. The only thing getting him from one day to the next is knowing that Maddie is even more tired than him. That he needs to be strong for her, and for Jee-Yun, for the family of his own that he finally managed to build. The thought of losing either of them, in any way, for any reason, is too much to bear. So he gets up in the morning and drinks two cups of coffee and kisses his beautiful daughter and aches to see the love of his life still in so much pain. He smiles as often as he can. Tries to smile enough for both of them until Maddie can again.

And he misses her. Even when she’s right in front of them, he misses her. He would do anything to take away even a fraction of her pain. Every day he tries to, and some days are better but most days are the same. So he just misses her, and loves her, and takes care of her as much as she’ll let him. Which is not as much as he’d like.

He does his best. To keep everything and everyone together and safe. To keep smiling for Jee. And he knows Maddie is doing her best too. More often than not, he feels like he’s spinning too many plates with not enough hands and something is bound to shatter. It won’t be like this forever. Things will get better. She will get better. Sometimes, though, it’s hard to remember that.

And he’s just so goddamn tired.

The day the blackout finally ends, he gets home from one of the longest shifts of his entire life practically sleepwalking through the door. All he wants is to collapse into bed next to Maddie and fall asleep to the sound of her breathing, content with the certainty that she’s safe and within arms reach.

As soon as he walks into their bedroom to see the bed pristinely made with a crisp white sheet of paper resting on the pillowcase, an alarm bell goes off in his head. Jee isn’t in her crib. Maddie is nowhere to be seen. Dread rips through his body like an icy wind.

Chimney snatches up the note. It takes him too long to read. The words seem to spin around on the page, and the pounding of his heart is so loud he can barely hear his own thoughts.

My love,

I’m so sorry. I had to leave. I couldn’t keep hurting you and our daughter by staying. You both deserve so much better than me, and I never deserved anything as good as either of you.

Please don’t try to follow me. I promise you’ll be better off without me. I’ll be safe, just somewhere else. And you can be happy.

Jee is with Anne. Tell her I’m sorry, and I’ll miss her every day. Tell her it’s for the best.

Love forever and always,

Maddie

The paper falls from his hand, and he has Athena’s number dialed before it hits the ground.

“I’m sorry, Chimney, but we can’t file a missing person’s case in this scenario unless there’s evidence of foul play,” Athena says after he breathlessly explains the note. Her voice is strained with exhaustion. With everything she’s been through in the past week, he feels terrible asking her for help. But his chest is twisted up so much he can’t breathe and his mind is twisted up so much he can’t think and he needs to do something.

“She could hurt herself, or…” The words stick in his mouth, coated with tar. Chimney swallows.  “Or worse. Athena, I can’t lose her.”

Athena sighs deeply. As exhausted as Chimney feels, he’s sure Athena is in an even worse state after everything she’s been through in the past week. “Give me a minute,” She says.

He paces around the kitchen for what seems like hours, his thoughts slipping further and further down a spiral. Every time he pulls one back up, another falls even further. He’s just about to bolt out the door and start wandering the streets of LA screaming Maddie’s name when Athena’s voice comes back through the receiver. “Bobby’s going to come pick you up and take you to the airport. You call Buck and tell him to check the train station. I’ll have my people at the station keeping an eye out for any concerning calls with someone matching her description.”

A plan. They have a plan. And he has help. He’s not alone. Chimney takes a shaky breath, “Thank you so much.”

“Well, I know how you’re feeling right now and I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy.” Athena replies.

“How is Harry doing?”

“He’s safe and home. That’s about all we can ask for.”

Chimney nods, even though he knows Athena can’t hear him. “He’ll be alright. He’s a tough kid.”

“And your Maddie is the toughest woman I know. You’ll bring her home, too.”

He thanks her again and hangs up, dialing Buck’s number as soon as the call ends. If he keeps moving forward, keeps steady with this plan, then maybe he’ll get through this. Or at least get through the next few hours.

If he stops to think, he knows he’ll drown.

“Maddie did what? ” Buck cries out.

“She left. I don’t know where she went,” Chimney reiterates, passing his hand over his eyes. “So, listen, I need you to—”

“Is she okay? Is Jee okay? When did this happen?” He hears Buck’s car keys jingling in the background, like he just picked them up.

“Buck, focus. Jee is fine, no idea about Maddie. That’s why we need to go find her. Can you head to the train station?”

“Well, what about the airport? Maybe she went back to Hershey to stay with our parents or an old friend. I could go there and—”

“Just listen for a second,” Chimney snaps, then immediately regrets it. This is Buck’s sister after all. He’s loved her even longer than Chimney has. He softens his voice. “Please. I’m scared too, but we have to work together. Me and Bobby are going to the airport, you head to the train station. Can you think of anywhere else she might go?”

“Uh, I don’t know." Buck sounds a little bit like a chastised puppy. But he stays on track this time. “I’ll call Josh on my way, see if he knows anything. My parents too, I guess.”

“Thank you,” Chimney says. His phone buzzes with a text from Bobby saying he’s outside of his apartment and he rushes out the door. “I gotta go. Let me know if you hear anything at all.”

“Yeah, of course, Chim. You too.” He pauses for a moment. “We’re gonna find her, right? We have to.”

Chimney sighs, already halfway down the stairwell. “I sure fuckin’ hope so, Buck.”

He jumps into Bobby’s car without a word, and they take off towards LAX. The tension in his jaw is starting to hurt, but he can’t relax. Any thoughts of sleep have vanished from his mind, although he knows that beneath the adrenaline the exhaustion is lying in wait.

Mrs. Lee responds to his text asking when Maddie dropped Jee-Yun off. About an hour ago. Poor thing looked dead on her feet. The two of you should let me watch this little angel more often like you used to!

If Mrs. Lee knew anything about Maddie’s plan, she would’ve called. As much as Chimney would love some encouraging words from her right now, he can’t bring himself to worry her until he has to. We’ll keep that in mind. Thanks so much!

He sends a silent prayer to who-the-hell-knows that they’re not too late. If Maddie’s caught a plane or a train, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to find her, let alone get her back.

“I know how much you love her, Chim,” Bobby says, his voice breaking through Chimney’s spiraling thoughts. “And I hope we find her as much as anyone. But if we can’t, it’s not your fault. Sometimes people just don’t want to be found.”

Chimney wishes he knew what to say to that. Wishes he could form a response without the threat of his voice cracking.

Bobby keeps driving and Chimney watches endless monotonous buildings blur past the window. He usually likes LA. People crack jokes about the traffic and the smog and the wannabe-celebrities. Hell, he does too. But he’s lived here for most of his life, through ups and downs, through terrible losses and his wildest dreams coming true. This city has hand-delivered him the greatest family he’s ever known.

In this moment, he’s never hated LA more.

“I can’t lose her, Bobby,” Chimney finally says.  A tear spills down his cheek.

Bobby says nothing, just reaches over and places a hand on Chimney’s shoulder.

The rest of the drive goes by achingly slowly, in comfortable but heavy silence. They’ve almost reached the airport when Chimney’s phone buzzes with a text from Buck.

No sign of her at the train station. Can’t get a hold of our parents. Josh has no idea. Gonna help him call around to hospitals in the area.

The tightness in Chimney’s chest squeezes more with every word, until hospitals hits him like a semi-truck.

He can’t think about that now. He can’t. Maddie is okay. She has to be. And he’ll take her home, and get her the help she needs here, where he’s only ever a traffic-dependent number of minutes away, and he can see her every day and hold her hand and tell her how much he loves her until she finally believes it, even if he has to say it thousands of times a day for the rest of their lives.

The car hasn’t even rolled to a stop outside departures before Chimney is out the door. Bobby calls out after him something about parking but Chimney doesn’t catch it and, right now, he doesn’t really care.

When he gets inside the airport he immediately ambushes the poor, dead-eyed employee at the information desk, cutting the line of twenty protesting patrons. “When’s the next flight to Philadelphia taking off?”

A bewildered expression replacing his dead stare. He blinks at Chimney, then types something on his computer. “Uh. 30 minutes. But it’s booked.”

“Makes no difference to me. Just tell me the gate number and get me any ticket that’ll get me through security. Preferably a cheap one.”

“Sir, you can’t—”

“Listen, man. I promise you I have a good explanation. It’s a real tear-jerker of a story, too. But I really don’t have time to tell it, and it would be much easier to just sell me the ticket now and get me out of your hair.”

Five minutes later, he’s shelled out $400 for a flight to Montana that he’ll never step foot on and is schmoozing his way to the front of the security line. The words fall out of his mouth before he knows what he’s saying. My grandmother has less than a day to live, I just have to make my flight. My wife is in labor, I just have to make my flight. My kid suffered a traumatic brain injury and is finally able to play his first baseball game again, I just have to make my flight. Anything to get people to let him skip through the security line they’ve been waiting in for God knows how long. He would tell the truth, but it feels so mixed up and raw and intimate that lying comes much easier. Somehow he makes it to the front of the line and through security in less time than it usually takes him to find parking here.

And he takes off at a dead sprint through the terminal.

His heart breaks more with each step. He’s not going to make it. He has no idea if this is even the right flight. Or if she’s here at all. He’s going to lose her. Lose the best person and the best life he’s ever had. He should just let her go. It’s selfish to make her stay if it’s not what she wants.

He can’t possibly let her go. Not like this.

He runs past hundreds of people, thousands. But he knows, he knows , that none of them are Maddie. Something in him would stop him dead in his tracks. Would lead him right to her. In the blur of faces and bodies, he knows Maddie will stick out, clearer than HD.

And she does. Sitting at the otherwise empty gate for the flight to Philly with a carry-on suitcase at her feet, staring out the window at the place where the plane must have just been. Looking as beautiful as ever, but so empty and so tired that, despite the relief that floods his body, the pain in his chest remains, sharper than ever. He slows to a stop twenty feet away from the person he loves most in the world, save for the person they made together.

“Maddie.” He breathes her name, too quietly for her to hear. Disbelieving of his luck, he cautiously approaches her, like she’s a mirage that will disappear at the wrong angle.

When she finally turns and sees him, her eyes widen for a moment, her body tensing. And then her shoulders slump in defeat.

Chimney sits down in the chair next to her. What now?

“Hi,” He says simply.

He’s almost surprised when she responds. “Hi.”

“You had us worried there for a minute.” Chimney’s not sure if that’s the right thing to say. He’s not sure if there is a right thing to say.

Maddie takes a deep breath. Her eyes are puffy and red, and a tear rolls down either side of her face. “I couldn’t do it.” Chimney takes her hand in his own and nearly falls apart when she clings tightly to it. “I was trying to do the right thing. I was trying to set you free. Set you both free. But I couldn’t…” She shrugs helplessly. “I couldn’t leave.”

“Well I, for one, am damn grateful for that.” Chimney’s voice cracks halfway through the sentence. And then they’re both sobbing into each other’s shoulder in the middle of the bustling airport, and Chimney doesn’t know how it’s possible to feel so much joy and so much pain at the same time. Like at any moment his chest might burst open from the sheer force of it.

After several long minutes, Maddie’s breathing comes more evenly, and he pulls back to look her in the eye, wipes her tears with his thumb. “Let’s go home, Maddie. And in the morning, we can get you checked into that inpatient program that Dr. Bolsaro recommended. We’ll get you the help you need. Here. We need you here, and I think you need us too. It’s okay to need us.” Maddie stares at him through her tears, her expression still just as hollow. He knows she doesn’t believe him yet. But that doesn’t mean he’ll stop telling her. “We all want to help you. You’re worth every second. All of it. You’re worth everything.”

“I’m not,”  She whispers. Chimney’s already fragmented heart shatters into even smaller pieces.

“I swear to you, you are. You don’t have to believe me. You just have to stay, and let us prove it to you.” He stands, and holds out his hand. He isn’t sure if she’s going to take it. But he hopes, and he hopes, and he tries to believe that the hope will be enough.

She holds his gaze. Then turns to the window, her eyes fixed on the spot on the tarmac where the plane took off to her wretched old life. The life she thinks she still deserves. The plane she didn’t get on anyway.

And then she turns back to Chimney. And she takes his hand.

[tenderlyrenjun]

[2:05 A.M.]

You drag your feet into your bedroom and dramatically fall face-first on the mattress, mumbling something incoherent, even with the super hearing, through the blankets. Renjun closes the textbook over his lap, sitting up in anticipation for you to make an announcement. He waits another minute then reaches across the blankets to pull back your hair, checking to see that you are still alive. After he sees your blank stare (okay, crazy person), he reclines against the headboard, asking you to repeat yourself.

“We have to send Jaemin another letter.”

“Ah.” Renjun puts the contemporary art textbook on the night stand, freeing up his hand to thread his fingers in your hair. He outlines your ear brushing away a few strands to see your cheeks and moves on to the heaven’s pillar behind your neck, dipping two fingers in the pressure point. You jerk forward a little, unexpectedly relaxed by a treasure. Renjun thinks that you try getting into a better position and helps you lean on his shoulder. You kiss above his clavicle, wrapping an arm around it also, loosely hanging on him like a body pillow. “It’s late. Why are you studying at this hour?”

You know that he is talking about the family’s most recent addition, not the upcoming o chem exam that you are more than prepared for. Unfortunately, he has not been available in the last month to help train new members, with all the work he has for school, the internship, and Jaemin’s new stupid coven leaders rule that requires Renjun to be chained to a zoom meeting twice a day.

“The new recruit -”

“Aurora?” Renjun asks. His hand slides to your lower back, pushing you into his side, and he takes your leg, draping it across his waist. It is not your cycle to sleep yet, but the position brings a great sense of ease to your subconscious.

“Yeah,” you nod, verifying. You open your eyes slowly, tracing his pretty jawline as he takes a turn to close his eyes, almost equally exhausted. His arm raises behind his neck, acting as another pillow to slouch against. It feels like years since you two have been able to relax, despite having just went on a weekend vacation a few months before. You sigh one last time, melting into his collar during your exhale. “She’s only been a vampire for about a decade, and there’s so much to go over.”

“Any special abilities?”

Renjun leans over, manipulating your situations in a way that keeps him as the big spoon, an arm wrapped under your chin and the other supporting under your head. It feels even more comfortable. You shimmy toward his waist, hugging him even tighter.

“No,” you answer, shaking your face in his chest. Sometimes you wish his heart would be a little bit louder, because when it is this low, you know he will have to feed again, meaning that he needs to get up and you would be without a body pillow. It is the equivalent to a stomach growl. Although, his actual growls are pleasant in your ears. Still, you give in, slacking your grip enough, knowing that you likely need to drink something as well. Drinking in bed is something that he prohibited, after you ruined an 18th century duvet, but these informal meetings function like pillow talk, considering that the rather large water fountain by your window blurs out the conversation to outsiders. “She has excellent people skills, and she is very charming, but other than that, no.”

Renjun sighs. “We need to recruit new members with special abilities.”

You turn over, looking at the sparkles across his pretty cheeks, and tuck his hair behind his ears (it is not blocking his face, but the gesture is meant to be a tender display of affection, something to show that you love him). His strands start to neatly frame his forehead again, then you tangle your fingers in the ends. You reiterate his sigh, shoulders dropping with your hands. 

“I know,” you tell him, fatigued by the politics and tensions. “I know, but I also don’t want to participate in another war.”

Renjun kisses the corner of your mouth, leaving his lips there too, to whisper cautiously, “It can’t just be Mark all the time. He needs a break eventually.”

“No, I know,” you lament again before repeating, “but I don’t want to participate in another war. I won’t be able to handle another loss like that.” The last war saw the complete annihilation of your coven, in terms of death and abandonment. Those who posed the greatest threat were slain without reservations, and neither of you ever heard from those who went off to fight after they left, so you assumed they either perished or took on an alias. No one won that last war, and everyone who fought assumed new identities hide the fact that they participated in the political upheaval. “And I don’t want to be like Doyoung’s elitist cult either.” The Kim Clan exclusively watched and turned noblemen for a few centuries in the late 13th century. They became the fourth largest coven, even to this day, with 29 people. “He keeps trying to absorb us; he wants you for his inner circle.” You bury your face in his chest again, trying to find comfort as his heartbeat slows and the breath leaves his lungs. “Everyone keeps watching over kids and mortals, waiting to turn them if they haven’t already, just for their potential abilities.”

“We’re all trying to protect ourselves,” Renjun reasons, combing the crown of your head. “We need to be able to defend ourselves, defend our people. We have nine members in their rooms right now, not accounting for the protection detail around the manor.” He sits up, pulling you with him, then he shakes you off his shoulder, awake. “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen and get something to drink.”

You fall back on him, hanging across his torso like asking for a small request.

“No,” he disagrees, dragging you off the comforter. “You’re not going to ruin another blanket. Come on, let’s get some blood and then we can finish talking about this tomorrow, when you’re not so exhausted.”

“Fine,” you cave, feeling slightly more enamored with him, a side effect of his special ability. 

You slip off the duvet and accept his hand, trailing behind him through the corridor to the kitchen down the hall. He sets a teapot on the stove, straining a fresh pouch of AB positive over a few teaspoons of water, while you sit at the island, taking out two mugs from the cabinet below. You settle them across from Renjun and assume a seat opposite him, knowing that he will eventually lean over the top instead of sitting with you. When Renjun finishes his small tea ceremony, you stare at him.

“Is my presence enjoyable?” he joke while stirring a few sugar cubes. You nod once, slightly timid as he slides a cup to you, the ceramic squealing across the granite. “Well, then we will have to keep meeting like this.”

You roll your eyes, hiding a smile behind your nutrition. “Over talks about leading our coven?”

Renjun glares at you. “Stop using that word,” he growls. “It’s so ... cringey.” He shakes his head, “No, but I miss having these meetings with you and feeding with you.” 

You sigh too, knowing what he means. The only time you even share a bed now is to sleep; your room is, otherwise, empty, for the most part. He is either studying, out of town, or in a meeting from time that the sun sets until it rises. And you are either training the new member, studying, or running one of your businesses, from the time the run rises until it sets. The moments when neither of you work are when you take time to relax a little bit, reset your minds from the 12-16 hour schedules. It gets hard, not seeing him, even if he is around the corner.

“I miss you, too,” you confess. You hesitate for a second, tapping the your nails into the ceramic teacup briefly. Renjun lowers his own mug, raising his eyebrow in a silent question, so you sigh .. again. “Do you regret signing up for college now?”

“No,” he answers near immediately, making you sit up straighter, at attention. Renjun groans. That is not entirely what he means. “I like going to college. I know it’s,” he hums, rolling his eyes and sucking in his lips jokingly (to which you roll your eyes, sarcastically), “trying, to you, but I really like it.” He walks around the island, hugging your waist from behind. “And I like that you’re doing it with me. Do I wish that we’re not the brink of war, or whatever the tensions are rising to, that keep making other clans enlist new members? Yeah, definitely, it puts a little dent in our 10-year plan, but I don’t regret this experience. I only wish to see it through.” Renjun rests his chin on your shoulder, not daring to meet your eye just yet, slightly scared of your reaction. You already were not on board with this decision (thankfully, he did not have to use his compulsion for this request, not that he would - you have free will either way, but you chose him in the end and he appreciates that). “Do you regret any of it?”

You place your hands over his, trailing your thumb across his knuckles comfortingly. He thinks, for a second, that you might answer yet, but you surprise him: “No,” you say honestly, “I don’t regret any decision that I’ve made with you.”

“Not even the time I convinced you to replace Ten’s entire blood collection with mentos in coke bottles?”

You smack his hands, then return to stroking them, alleviating any potential pain. “Do you have any regrets then?”

“Just the one,” he recalls bitterly. Renjun kisses your shoulder as another apology. Even a millennium later, he cannot believe that you forgave him, so he never forgets to show you that it was not the wrong decision to let him back into your life. “I love you.”

You spin around fully. “I love you too.”

“Wanna show me?”

[justasparkwritings]

Peace: Clowns to the West

Previous: Would It Be Enough? 

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Angst / Slice of Life

Rating: PG13

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse/manipulation, Mentions of rehab, Scandals, Mention of fighting 

Summary: Across the globe, Big Hit grapples with Jungkook’s outburst. 

Listening: peace by Taylor Swift 

This is officially the last chapter of peace. Mirrorball follows. Illicit Affairs precedes.  

Peace Master List

         “We can’t make them break up,” Mr. Cho, a Big Hit lawyer, told Bang and Sejin.

         “Why not?” Bang asked.

         “Both sides signed an agreement.” Ms. Lee, a second lawyer, reminded them.

         “It’s in his contract, they have to remain secret,” Bang responded.

         “They’ve been together almost three years and they’ve never had a slip up,” Mr. Yang said.

         “This isn’t a slip up! This is a total disregard for decorum! For rules! For boundaries!” Bang yelled, voice echoing against the walls of the conference room.

         “Do we know why Jungkook punched him?” Sejin inquired.

         “Not yet,” Mr. Cho answered, eyes moving to Ms. Lee and Mr. Yang, conferring in silent glances.

         “His hand is okay though,” Ms. Lee responded. “We got confirmation.”

         “Good, who is posting it?” Mr. Yang asked.

         “A few tweets have surfaced, no one on Weverse has said anything, and it doesn’t seem to be sold to anyone, yet,” Ms. Cho informed them. Her spectacled eyes stayed glued on her screen as she fielded emails, tweets and Weverse posts, mining for a hint that anyone knew what transpired.

         “Do we have the name?” Bang wanted to know.

         “We’re working on it, the lawyers in LA are fighting the clock to get the footage and receipts from the restaurant so we can narrow it down, we’ve got a team working on tracing him,” Mr. Cho said.

         Mr. Cho, Ms. Lee and Mr. Yang had worked for Big Hit for all of three years. They had joined when Namjoon had led the insurrection, when BTS had demanded new contracts and lawyers that worked for the good of everyone, not only the executives of Big Hit. They worked closely with the band, fought for them, protected their rights and stood by them when Bang and Co were unreasonable. They had combed through the agency, ridding it of lawyers whose integrity was compromised, whose morals allowed them to turn a blind eye when discussions of what had happened to Jungkook occurred. They were poison, and Cho, Lee and Yang were resolute in their decisions to rid the company of them.

         “The LA lawyers are arguing it was a hate crime, the man attacked first and Jungkook defended himself and y/n,” Mr. Yang said.  

         “No one knows about his fight with Namjoon, do they?” Sejin inquired.

         “It’s been three years, sir, if someone knows, they would’ve sold it by now,” Ms. Lee told him.

         “This cannot get out.” Bang reiterated.

         “What if it does?” Sejin questioned.

         “Jungkook pays for having it scrubbed from the web,” Bang responded quickly.

         “What will ARMY say?” Sejin pushed. The ever-present fear, the thorn in their side, what would ARMY do?

         “They’ll be livid,” Bang responded, looking at Sejin.

         “Angry at the person who assaulted Jungkook, or Jungkook for having a secret relationship?” Sejin asked.

         “Both, they want Jungkook for themselves. Not only is he in a committed relationship, which he has lied about for nearly three years, but he met her when he was sent to rehab, and he’s punching men over her,” Bang ticked off each reason on his chubby fingers, not pausing when Sejin wanted to interrupt. “They’ll find the man and harass him until the day he dies.”

         “Are they closer to getting married?” Ms. Lee interrupted.

         “We should ask,” Sejin said.

         “We asked when Jungkook came to us the first time,” Bang reminded him.

         “He didn’t have an answer,” Sejin shrugged.

         “He specifically asked that he be given the chance to see where it could go,” Mr. Cho had pulled up the initial agreement, signed years ago, never amended.

         “They’d already been dating for six months at that point,” Mr. Yang said.

         “He was too good at hiding it,” Bang whispered, eyes drifting from Sejin to the pictures that lined the office, images from concerts, award shows, when they received their medals and spoke at the UN. Images of their accomplishments, of their status, of their power.

         “Namjoon told him he had to tell us,” Sejin spoke softly, pulling Bang from his reverie.

         “They gave us answers to our questions,” Bang responded, voice still soft.

         ”I’ve never met a woman so angry before,” Mr. Cho said laughing.

         “She was rightfully angry with us,” Sejin stated.

         Bang’s eyes grew wide, creases in his forehead appearing as his glare bored into Sejin, “She nearly tore them apart.”

         “We nearly tore them apart” Sejin corrected.

         “We?” Bang’s voice had gone from a docile whisper to a yell, a change in decibels that surprised Sejin.

         “We asked Seokjin, Yoongi and Namjoon to ask those questions. We gave them the list, we told them when they had to do it. We manipulated Jungkook for years. We have nearly torn them apart so many times, it’s a miracle they are standing.” Sejin was fuming, the total disregard for their behavior sickened him. He hated the way Bang ignored their actions, hoping no one would notice if they were quiet about it. They signed the bands new contracts, they agreed to allow Jungkook to date and ease up on their restrictions. They made plans to be better and now, with Jungkook hurting, they were discussing the possibility of hurting him again.

         “And out of the ashes, Jungkook’s relationship,” Mr. Yang replied.

         “Out of the ashes, Jungkook rises, again and again,” Sejin corrected.

         “They came back with nothing,” Bang repeated.

         “Disdain and anger,” Again Sejin corrected Bang’s revisionist memory. “They felt that before they spoke with her.”

         “They’ve done a good job keeping their relationship quiet. Can’t we extend them a little grace?” Ms. Lee said, bringing the men back to the conversation at hand.

         “No, they signed a contract,” Bang snapped.

         “It was self-defense,” Mr. Yang reminded him.

         “No one will care,” Bang said.

         “They’ll want her name, how long they’ve been together, how they got together,” Mr. Cho listed the questions they too had asked.

         “We tell them that Jungkook met her on contract mandated anger management and rehab? That we sent him to an outpatient treatment on the ruse of working on music and choreography in LA, when he was really in therapy because of the decade of abuse he endured at our hands?” Sejin countered Mr. Cho, angered that they continued to gloss over these inalienable truths.

         “Don’t forget that Namjoon went out there too,” Mr. Yang added.

         “Yoongi and Seokjin as well,” Ms. Lee aforementioned.

         “They met at a restaurant by chance, that part is true,” Mr. Cho took a sip of his water, tired from the hours long meeting.

         “While he was in rehab,” Mr. Yang amended.

         “That we drove him to,” Sejin interjected. Unlike Bang, he kept his fury under the surface, simmering, bursts of steam the only sign that he was angered.

         “Or that our agreement stated if he attended treatment, he could date,” Mr. Cho shrugged, tossing back a few aspirin with his water.

         “Him and Namjoon, two relationships,” Bang muttered.

         “Both Americans,” Sejin added.

         “It’s less of a headache, less to hide,” Bang stated.

         “How long until the rest come knocking?” Sejin asked.

         “We’ll have to deal with their, sexualities,” Mr. Yang reminded them.

         “They can’t be gay and a pop star,” Bang scoffed.

         “They can in almost every other country in the world,” Ms. Lee told them. She had been a lawyer in Korea for years, and never had she been so conflicted about the integrity of her career as she was working for Big Hit.

         “They can’t leave us, do we have enough to stand upon?” Bang’s mind was moving to the worst-case scenario, Jungkook breaking his contract, the other six following. They were a unit, they were a team, they couldn’t stand without each other. They didn’t have to, and they never wanted to.

         “Financially? Yes, for a while,” Mr. Yang answered.

         “But what will our name mean?” Sejin pondered aloud, “Our legacy if the seven of them decide either after their next negotiations, after service, or before, that they don’t want to be represented by an organization that denies them love, relationships, a family?”

         “We follow the same policies as every other agency,” Bang said.

         “Yes, but do they have as much power and clout as we do?” Sejin questioned. “Who will we be if we don’t let them date who they want, love who they want, marry who they want?”

         “Page Six,” Ms. Lee called.

         “Who?” Bang asked, temper rising.

         “Page Six and TMZ, they’ve got it,” Ms. Lee clarified.

         “Get it down!” Bang roared.

         “What if they won’t?” Mr. Yang asked.

         Bang took a deep breath, regaining his composure before he spoke, “No amount of money is too much.”

         “How much is Jungkook willing to pay?” Mr. Cho inquired.

         “Call and -

         “Don’t call, get it down and we can negotiate with him later,” Bang instructed.

         “They’ve got video,” Ms. Lee told them.

         “Video!” Bang and Sejin yelled.

         “Let me see it, now!” Bang roared.

         The video was tossed on the screen, and in grainy footage, they could see the man approach you. They could see him grab you, Jungkook telling him to back off. In fuzzy audio they heard bits and pieces of the various slurs and they watched as you and Jungkook froze before his fist collided. The video was coupled with dozens of bad photos, none miraculously, capturing his tattoos. In the rush to leave the bar, there was a single instant, a moment, where the undercut can be seen, the earrings flash, a slight blur of ink, and a side profile that looks almost, almost, like Jungkook flashes across the screen.

         The team sat, clicking through the photos, watching the video over and over. For what it’s worth, and it’s worth a lot, you never yell his name. You never identified the man you’re with, and other than a blur of skin, your face couldn’t be made out. The only thing that was obvious was the man spewing hate. His volume louder than anyone else’s.

         It’s in the moments of watching the video over and over, looping the audio, sending it to engineers to enhance, that more photos began popping up, better quality, videos with clear shots of Jungkook’s face.

         Bang and Sejin are on the phone with lawyers and conglomerates, trying to pay by the hundred thousand, reaching out to their already made contacts in hopes of stopping this.

         They could barely admit it, but they were scared.

Scared of ARMY’s reaction.

Scared of what this means for Namjoon and the others.

Scared for the safety of you and Jungkook.

Scared their stocks will tank.

Scared that BTS will walk.

Scared that their lies and manipulation will come to light.

Scared that hate speech and racial slurs will spill out from the dark corners they’ve been hiding.

Scared of the power they created.

Scared of the dynamic they were breathing in.

         But more than that, they’re scared that they have, again, in an attempt to control him, given Jungkook too much.

         It never matters what Big Hit has taken from him. Only what he’s given, and the promise of more in the future. A scandal of this size, a hidden lover, unsure if Jungkook would do anything to stop it, was enough for them to pay extra to have teams monitor for the next several hours, weeks, even months to ensure it doesn’t get out. It’s enough for them to put Jungkook on stricter orders, to attempt to amend his contract, to attempt to cage him in. They’ve got him on his tiptoes, spinning, shining for them with the threat of shattering looming above them all.

[divagonzo]

I have a problem and I don’t know what to do. So my family planned a trip to Disneyworld for September (to celebrate we’re all 2x vaccinated) but then news starting talking about rising Delta Variant cases and my dad is this close to cancel the trip because he’s afraid we could get infected and like we’re been super careful and none of us gotten COVID-19 all this time so I don’t know what to do- he says we can go later but Florida being Florida full of stupid antivaxxers it might be years and years before it’s “100% safe” and I really was super excited to go :C is there any thing I can do ??

Good evening Nonnie! My, what a conundrum.

Long answer under the read-more line.

TL;DR - It's a complicated answer to a very fluid, complex situation.

The first bit I'm going to address is the last part before I get the rest of it. Sadly, you're right that there's plenty of stupid anti-vaxxers out there. (My family isn't a part of it! Hubs had it before he was eligible for the vaccine and the rest of us got the jab. None in my family are anti-vaxx. All but 2 of my close friends are vaxx'd (and both of them are going on the advice of their personal medical doctor - or in one's case, all 4 of them since they are in fragile health.)

However, the issue of 100% safe is a fallacy even in pre-pandemic times. The most it might eventually mitigate to is 97% safe. Florida has some weirdos even in normal, regular times. O_O Things happen*** that makes any time you get out of bed potentially disastrous.

Bear in mind I'm not risk adverse. I do plenty of dumb shite stuff even now at my age - but risking infection from Covid and the Delta variant isn't it. The spouse and I flew to Florida in April, after he'd fully recovered from it - and I'd had my first dose - to go see his Mom. We determined that the risk flying down on a 6am flight to Florida to spend the week with her was of utmost importance for her mental health. (Enormous boon for her, that we came down to visit.) We normally drive but the time and potential vectors I couldn't account for made the decision an easy one. We cancelled our trip last March to go see her at the last minute since she's part of the most vulnerable demographic and I wouldn't/couldn't risk her health for this (I'd been watching the news for six weeks and only cancelled the trip 2 days before we were to leave because of seeing this oncoming tsunami.) She was upset but I am thankful that we did.

I'm glad we did skip because she thinks she had it last March and would be have been sick while we were down there (like can't get off the couch to go to bed sick can't sleep flat sick 102 fever sick - and my SIL is a doctor and didn't know for certain and we still aren't all for sure.)

SIL made sure she had the first doses available at her hospital for the MIL after the medical staff got theirs.

Ask yourself if the trip is worth it for the potential of bankrupting your savings if you get it bad enough to end up sitting in the E/R for days because there are no staffed beds available to treat you. Will it happen? I dunno. I'm far from a seer. But ICU utilization rates right now are off the chain.

I do know how to do risk analysis.

What to do?

I'd speak with Dad who is, by in large, properly concerned because of large crowds, long lines, and too many damn people around. Y'all aren't the risk but the other dumb sods are. You might be properly masked and still might receive it from somewhere (since this is transmitted via aerosolization and viral loads being around someone for an hour) and there's always one dumb schmuck who won't be smart, wise, or prudent and will go among the crowds spreading this thing. There's plenty of horror stories of someone getting it from a mass event - many legit, some spreading vile miscommunication - and others who are sociopaths who have no care 'cept about themselves. They are the ones begging for the vaccine who are about to get a nasty tube down their throat to try and survive this mess - praying to whatever deity will listen to spare them from being permanently disabled.

The risk is there but being smart is that the risk is small. It will never be 100% risk-free.

The other bit is this - September is the ending of the tourist season, It's not as crowded as it would be in June/July/August (but surprisingly December is busy because of the parades and such.) It won't be as crowded - but still busy enough. Being outside, in the sunshine, and not in confined spaces does well. Let me reiterate that being outside, in the sunshine and not in confined spaces is the safest option. It's only if you're stuck in confined spaces, like attraction lobbies for an hour that becomes a problem.

I'd speak with Dad (respectfully) and ask what y'all could do to go enjoy the trip, go live, and still be smart about things. My sister and nibling went back in March down for a week and stayed smart, masked up, carried anti-bacterial handwash, cleaned down the room when they got there, and came home without an issue.

No problems for them.

That was before the rise of the Delta Variant that is more infectious even if the death rates aren't as high (but are plenty high enough!)

I know you want to go. Everyone is sick and tired of being home, being responsible, while other mouth breathing knuckle dragging troglydikes are out being dumb fucks and you wonder why they have a deathwish. I don't blame you being antsy to go live, too.

But being in a hospital 2 states away on O2 therapy with this mess (and the medical staff on the verge of breaking!) isn't a wise investment, either. A hospital ICU stay 2 states away will bankrupt every middle class family.

Personally? Unless someone in the immediate family is immunocompromised (or in fragile health) where they can't get the vaccine and you have an absolute moral obligation to protect them, you have to judge the risk of immediate gratification versus delayed gratification wondering if that will ever come about. I would change plans and go somewhere else away from crowds and have fun while not being packed like sardines on rides and other Disney stuff.

What are the odds? 5%.

That's 1 in 20.

What is the family mental health worth balanced against the potential of being in the ICU and possibly permanently disabled?

It's 5%.

Me? I'd go - and keep all of the suggestions available (including spare masks for everyone!) and go enjoy yourselves. But then I'm not risk adverse. I analyze the risks and make an informed decision. Being smart is staying masked up around others, washing your hands often, and alcohol handwash too. Even out grocery shopping now I'm masked up and cleaning everything down, knowing that there is the potential of a super-bacteria bug that might develop from this mess of vital cleaning.

But your family situation is probably vastly different than mine is, with dear daughter starting her PhD program and my Mom hasn't moved in yet. If she's moved in, my answer is wholly different because I have a moral obligation to look out for her - and that is living smart.

***Why do I say that it's never 100% safe? I have a story that I never want to tell, of what I saw a few years ago on I=75 on the way down to WDW - of a family that was on their way there and.... well, to spare everyone's sensibilities, the entire family didn't make it there or return home. O_O

[thekidultlife]

The Most Convenient Escape | Jihoon Soulmate!AU (6)

⍟ Pairing: Jihoon x fem!reader

⍟ AU: Fantasy/ Soulmate AU

⍟ Genre: ANGST, SLOW BURN, fluff

⍟ Warnings: mentions of abuse, drinking, and sex

⍟ Word Count: 6.7k

⍟ Synopsis: For all your life, you have a deep disdain towards Soulmate Bonds, so much so that you are able to write opinions about it in a local newspaper. However, as life would have it, you wake up one day bonded to a person you hardly knew. Throwing in an investigation, annoying roommates, and a revolution looming just beneath the surface, you had to seek for the most convenient escape.

⍟ A/N: It’s been a while since I updated TMCE skskks sorry;;; i missed my drawing tablet so much, I just drew this whole time lmaooo but here you go~ something like a transition chapter!! hope you enjoy? :DD

⍟ Taglist: To those who commented on the previous chapter ;;w;; thank you so much!!! @minkwans, @ialamityo-o, @oprandomfeels, @haotheheckk, and @svt13roses!!! I always say this, but your comments and reactions really keep me going on;;;

CHAP 1 | CHAP 2 | CHAP 3 | CHAP 4 | CHAP 5 | CHAP 6 |

HALF A MILLION MURMURS by Alex Fireflower

The Porta Persa Edition, November 2nd

 To those divinely ordained by the people and the coin with Power and Authority:

            Surely, in some way or another, it had not escaped any person of good conscience and fair moral character the plight which has befallen our fellow men—the Cilvekans—despite differences in and not limited to nationality and/or race; more so and I surely hope so, that it had not escaped the attentions of persons with great abundance in wealth and power such as yourselves.

            Surely, in some way or another, you are not deaf to their pleas—gagged and maimed by a bill, now law, which was carefully crafted to entrap more than half a million people for whatever reason the Parliament has in its defense. These people who had a hand in making our trades grow, making our lives a little bit easier, making this nation prosper to its opulent glory of today—how easy, how convenient it is to leave them to the dust, to fend off on their own all the evils of Porta Persa. Certainly, it had touched your benevolent hearts that the very same people who sweep your marble floors, who wash your dirty ball gowns, who polish your diamond rings, are in need of your help—the very same people who had helped you in your daily lives. Yet even if they had not become a part of your lives in some way or another, surely, maybe, that the fact that Cilvekans are fellow human beings who move and act just like us would convince you that what had been brought unto them was a violation of their rights as human beings, rights which are rightfully bestowed to everyone on this Earth—Cilvekan, Porta Persan or whatnot.

Surely, in some way or another, you have come to an understanding that the creators of this bill had intentions way beyond the national security of this nation. Surely, it is indisputable, with all the abuse of power and discriminate arrests which happened in the course of a few days, that there is no way Porta Persa would attain national security in this manner; but rather, had only caused chaos and anger among the population. How can one, who had held himself with high regard in the face of god and the heavens, be so blissfully ignorant to these people who had been abused and indiscriminately arrested in the middle of the night for various reasons the Royal Guard had come up with as they spin their wee little roulette of crimes and violations? How can we, as human beings, rationalize our inaction and ignorance of this issue with a mentality that “if this does not happen to us in front of our very eyes, therefore, it does not exist”? Of course there is no reason for it to happen on your graciously manicured courtyard because the gold coin had given you the privilege to grab the laws of this land by the neck and turn it to your favor.

Surely, surely, and I do hope so that beyond the loud voices in your head screaming at you that there is no need to help, that the problem is simply perceived by the victims, that this issue does not affect you in any way possible—I hope that you are able to hear the half million murmurs of Cilvekan voices stranded in our ports and stations, banished from their jobs and separated from their families. I hope that you are all able to hear whispers calling out to the warm compassion that is hopefully still inside of your hearts.

As more than half a million Cilvekans congest our ports and stations—sent back to an ironically unfamiliar country with almost no possessions;  inside our jails and police stations, tortured to admit a sin they had never committed—let us not ignore their cries of help. Whether or not they had aided us in our lives before, they are still human beings just like us, who need the same rights as we do. Let’s listen to the murmurs of half a million…

◇

“Your girlfriend sure is livid.”

Yoon Jeonghan, in his platinum blond hair and rather sleepy eyes, said as he tossed the newspaper on the marble garden table. The Minister for the Culture and the Arts was finally present in the meeting, though still in Joshua Hong’s grey pavilion in the middle of his rose garden and still drinking freshly brewed coffee.

“She’s not my girlfriend, and I am very much assured that she is unaware of our soulmate bond,” Jihoon groaned as he massaged his temples, the hangover gradually diminishing with the help of a hangover potion you had forced him to bring along. “How many times do I have to reiterate this?”

“Someone sure is a rainy cloud today, what do you reckon, Minister of Foreign Affairs?” Jeonghan remarked as he received a cup of coffee from Joshua, who had only laughed at his friend’s comment.

“It’s your fault for not coming by lately. You missed out a lot.”

“Did I?” The other smirked, and then looked around, “Oh? It seems our adorable general isn’t here yet?”

“Seungcheol told me he wouldn’t be joining us today,” Joshua informed him primly as he finally sat on his own seat with a cup on his hands. “And for reasons you all already know, unfortunately.”

“What about you though? Aren’t you having a terribly marvelous time trying to deport all these people?” Jihoon asked, his eyes cold and a tad bit exhausted.

“That’s the immigration’s responsibility, not ours. Though drafting an explanation to the Cilvekan government as to why there are half a million people to be deported back to their country isn’t a walk in the park either.”

Jihoon grunted, to which Jeonghan only smiled.

“I’m having trouble with this as well. Several valuable artists living in Porta Persa are in danger of being deported which isn’t in any way favorable in my position. I wouldn’t want to lose Wen Junhui and Xu Minghao in the middle of their own respective careers,” Jeonghan added in a playful tone despite the severity of his situation.

“And just when I was finally able to acquire some tickets to Wen Junhui’s play!” Joshua remarked with a slight scowl, annoyed that his tickets would probably become mere pieces of worthless colored paper.

“Tough luck for all of us, huh?” Jihoon remarked as he pressed down the bridge of his nose, the smell of the decaying rose petals around him was making him nauseous.

As the wind blew across the wide rose garden, a companionable silence enveloped the three of them. While they seemed to be so lighthearted, they all knew the situation was a lot worse than they had feared.

“Is there any way we could reverse this decision?” Jeonghan finally asked.

“If there was, I would’ve done it already. Not to mention how much political power I’ve lost because of this,” Jihoon replied, thumbing on the cork of the potion he was holding. "If not for the laws of this land, I would've wrung Kang's neck by now."

“Seems like your plans on running for Prime Minister is thrown out of the window,” Jeonghan continued to which Jihoon only gave him a cynical look.

“I would continue if I was crazy enough,” he answered with a snort. “Look, there’s really not much I could do as of the moment. The Conservatives are probably holding the biggest victory party of their lives at the seaports, herding off Cilvekans inside cargo ships like cattle, and it’s so frustrating how I could only watch them do what they want.”

“What about going to your grandfather then?” Joshua suggested and Jihoon stilled for a moment before aggressively shaking his head.

“No, no, no. Absolutely not,” he replied with a hint of panic in his eyes. “Not in a million years.”

“Why not?” Jeonghan asked. “He’s still a powerful man after retiring as Prime Minister years ago. Who knows, maybe he has some useful connections.”

“You guys already know why not,” Jihoon responded with a snarl. “There is certainly no way I would return to Santaragossa considering the state of my soulmate bond.”

“Ah, that,” the two men eventually nodded in understanding as they remembered why Jihoon was hesitant to go.

“But maybe this is the right time to tell Y/N that your soulmates,” Joshua was the first one who remarked. “You could bring her along and tell her the truth.”

To that comment, Jihoon only gave an incredulous look. “Please don’t give me any more of these suicidal suggestions, Joshua. You already know that’s not going to work.”

“But you could at least try?” Jeonghan offered. “I mean, Porta Persa is only an inch short of imploding, and we could be headless in a month's time if this escalates rapidly, so what does a lover's quarrel mean in the face of a civil war?”

As soon as he had heard Jeonghan’s words, the dark haired male simply sighed and leaned against the chair he was sitting on. He just can’t believe he was considering this. Returning to Santaragossa could be another mess he wished he had never signed up for, much like the current situation with the Cilvekans. But he knew that if he really wanted to act on the benefit of the greater good, a worthy sacrifice is already a given. What even is a falling out with his soulmate to a half a million people who are more or less starving and afraid?

Jihoon sighed again. Things are spiraling out of control.

“I’ll think about it.”

◇

A few weeks later. November 25th

“Oh god, I almost strangled the bastard if you guys weren’t there!”

It was already late in the morning when the three of you entered Wonwoo’s dorm room in a weirdly tense mood; a mood that was emphasized by the fact that the political atmosphere in Porta Persa was rigidly discordant all throughout the past few weeks. As active journalists, it had of course affected you three.

“I might have bitten his head off twice too,” you were fuming as much as Soonyoung was, tossing your heavy leather bag on the bed which you sat on as well with an exhausted huff.

The only calming force in the room was Jeon Wonwoo, who simply sighed and dropped most of his things on a wooden desk carpeted with heavy tomes of Magical Law. Yet despite is fair countenance, it doesn’t mean he wasn’t exasperated by everything that was happening.

Today, the three of you were scheduled to interview a staunch advocate of the recently passed travel restrictions and border control measures, and to say the least, it did go well, yet at the expense of everyone’s tempers.

“Just—how can someone be so ignorant of this situation?!” you exclaimed as you let yourself fall on the bed, your arms held high in the air. “I-I mean, the ports where Cilvekans had been crowding for days now is just a five-minute walk from his stupidly large mansion! Can’t they see anything?!”

“Not only that! Not only that, goddamn it!” Soonyoung added, furiously pacing around the room. “He even has the gall to question why Y/N was there! Y/N! One of Porta Persa’s best editors! What kind of question is that? Are girls not allowed to do anything anymore? I just wanted to punch that guy’s beer belly!”

“That was really insulting,” you remarked, your voice much quieter now.

Soonyoung groaned-screamed, pushing Wonwoo’s wooden chair before stalking towards the wall and punching it hard. The wall was of course rock solid but Soonyoung’s knuckles were now red and in pain, yet it didn’t really matter. If he hasn’t done anything, chances are he might explode in his place then and there.

Wonwoo only watched, leaning against his desk, as the two of you blew off steam by ranting and just being generally loud, yet in his mind, wheels were turning.

“You know what else is concerning?” Wonwoo spoke, his voice as soft as a mutter yet it was enough to get the attention of everyone. “It’s not only the wealthy who are fine with this as what we might’ve expected, but also some of the upper and lower middle class people.”

You and Soonyoung immediately exchange glances, their eyes glinting with curiosity. So Wonwoo continued on.

“I’ve checked all the interviews we conducted since last week and though they differ in motives, they generally have no problem with this law. The rich are basically ignorant and indifferent. To them, this law is just like all the other laws of Porta Persa. For the middle class citizens however, they saw Cilvekans as an adversary—someone who would steal their jobs and opportunities.”

“Like, ‘why are these people getting rich while I, a true blooded Porta Persan is struggling to get a job?’” you asked, to which Wonwoo nodded.

“So a ‘good riddance’ thing, huh?” Soonyoung bobbed his head up and down in realization, his anger already half abated.

“Precisely. This is why this whole situation is largely divisive. There are people who care about it, but there are also a lot of people who are more than happy that this happened,” the bespectacled boy replied, adjusting his glasses.

“Ain’t that depressing,” Soonyoung grumbled, finally plopping on the plush armchair by the fireplace. “Has anybody started a petition yet?”

“Lee Jihoon already beat you to the chase,” you commented casually. “He’s been busy gathering signatures from prominent people to junk the law, but so far I think he hasn’t really filled his quota yet, right Wonwoo?”

“Yes, I reckon he needs even more powerful people, like someone closely connected to the monarchy or someone with a really huge reputation,” Wonwoo replied, folding his arms over his chest.

“Who else is even more powerful than Lee Jihoon? Even he can’t stop that bill from becoming law,” Soonyoung inserted, now much more cynical because of all the frustration that had built up.

You only shrugged. “We don’t know. At any case, we must continue this responsibility we imposed upon ourselves. Let justice be done though the heavens fall.”

“Indeed,” Wonwoo replied before straightening himself up. “In that case, I suppose it’s time we inspect those documents we found a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, yeah! I almost forgot about them!” Soonyoung remarked, turning as he watched Wonwoo walk pass him and to a hidden safe behind the bookcase where he kept it secure. “We were so preoccupied with all the interviews that we didn’t have time to look at them.”

“I do hope we get something out of those,” you said, standing up from your place on the bed and walked to the round wooden table where Wonwoo had placed the documents.

Gathering round and seated comfortably, the three of you began to carefully examine the documents like an efficient production line.

Wonwoo was assigned to the actual semantics of the documents, inspecting everything word per word and whether or not they mean something else other than what was thought at first glance. Soonyoung on the other hand was in charge of looking into those which contained shipping and trading information—he may not be the brightest of you three but he has trading experience all throughout his life which was more than what you and Wonwoo could do. Finally, you had the task of doing the final inspection, to see if the Soonyoung and Wonwoo had missed anything.

Yet despite all these efforts, even after five hours of perusing the said documents, in the end they all turned out to be rather boring pieces of yellowed paper.

“And here I thought we were going to find something phenomenal…”

Soonyoung was pouting, now more than exhausted as he slumped sulkily on his chair. You and Wonwoo were no different, as you sat silently on your places around the table with long faces.

“I guess we effectively wasted most of our afternoon,” you remarked, standing up to stretch your stiff muscles.

“I couldn’t agree enough,” Wonwoo snorted, “That novelty shop was phony from the beginning.”

“Well, what’s done is done,” Soonyoung exclaimed, also standing up to walk around the room. “And oh, speaking of that shop, the fortune teller asked us to give something to you, Y/N. Wait here for a moment while I run to my room!”

Without waiting for you to reply, Soonyoung already dashed out of the door and to the hallway, leaving both you and Wonwoo to exchange curious glances.

“You know something about that?” You asked him.

Your friend shrugged, “You left so suddenly that day and then everything was so hectic right after that we forgot to tell you about it.”

Understanding the situation, you simply sighed and waited for Soonyoung to return, which wasn’t that long since he was already back before you could even form any thoughts on what Madam Adora had left for you.

“I’m back!” he exclaimed, on his hands a small black box that seemed to resemble a box for a ring. “Here you go, Y/N!”

With that said, Soonyoung placed it on top of the table which you walked towards to see what it was inside. You turned it over and heard a small dull thud, giving the impression that there was a small object inside.

“Did you peek?” You asked him, seating back on your chair and taking a closer inspection at the object.

“What? Of course not!” He denied, which you deemed was true, considering that the seal on the opening was still intact. You smirked at him, revealing the fact that you were only kidding around.

“Well, let’s see what this is.”

Breaking the seal, you opened the box while the two onlookers peered curiously behind you. The climactic tension in the air rose dramatically as the three of you became increasingly intrigued by the contents of the box.

“It’s…” Soonyoung narrated, his eyes glistening at first but then faltered after realizing what it was, “It’s just a coin.”

Inside the box, nestled on maroon red velvet was a mere gold coin—one which Porta Persa uses as currency—the Dossimer.

You held it up between your fingers, studying it as closely as you could with eyes filled with bewilderment. Eventually, you made a nod.

“Yes, it’s just dossimer.”

Wonwoo sighed. “This day seems to be filled with anticlimaxes.”

“I guess that’s life for you,” you replied, shrugging. “Though I’m not that sure why she would give this to me. It’s not like I lack money or anything.”

“I’m as bewildered as you,” Wonwoo remarked, again adjusting his slipping glasses.

Huffing, you placed the coin on the table harshly, cluttering loudly across Wonwoo’s room. “Fate sure is playing tricks with us, and I’m not liking it.”

“Yet what else can we do?” Soonyoung asked. “We’re at a stalemate now. The investigation is going nowhere, the Cilvekan situation is worsening, and we might be persecuted by the monarchy at any time.”

Wonwoo simply sighed. “Indeed, nothing seems to be moving right now, but we still have to do something, no matter how little they are. It will have a rippling effect all over Porta Persa.”

While the two were bickering, you had unintentionally blocked them out, focusing only on the gold coin on the table, atop the documents you had inspected, wondering over and over again why it was on your hands.

“Are you suggesting we run away then? Run to the mountains of god knows where—“

Wonwoo had raised his voice already, further proof that the argument was getting heated, yet despite that, you paid no heed. Instead, you continued to stare at the coin, still tossing and turning ideas in your head.

The more you gazed at it, the more you felt like you were beginning to imagine things. The coin was glowing with a golden light around it, and while magic isn’t something odd, the fact that the coin was shimmering was definitely out of the ordinary.

Blinking several times, you tried to shook the hallucinations away yet the glowing continued and had now spread over the papers underneath it. You were sure you hadn’t drunk anything weird that day, or maybe it was the fatigue—but fatigue doesn’t really make things glow in front of your very eyes.

Funnily enough, it took you a moment to realize that none of what you had thought of was the truth, and strangely enough, the coin was actually and most definitely glowing.

“Um…guys…” you muttered, pulling on their sleeves as they were already about to pounce on each other. “I’m not imagining that the coin is glowing, right?”

Your words immediately stopped the two of them from their tracks and immediately turn their attentions to the coin on the table. Astonished as you were, they only gazed at it in confusion.

“It’s really…glowing,” Soonyoung remarked, his hands about to touch it.

“Wait—! Don’t go near, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo warned as he fetched a fountain pen on his desk to poke the coin with.

“Isn’t that as dangerous as well?” you asked him, wanting him to reconsider his course of action.

“It’s fine, I’m not directly touching it.”

With a sigh of forfeit, you only watched as Wonwoo moved the coin with nothing much of a reaction other than the bright white glowing.

“It seems to be making the papers glow as well,” he observed, moving his body around it to see all sides.

“Not all the papers. Just that one,” you corrected him since you were seated next to it on the table and had a better viewpoint. “Could you guys get that?”

Without anyone prompting him, Soonyoung snatched the paper from the table and looked at it with a rather confused look on his face.

“What is it?” you asked, turning to him with an expectant look.

“Not to add on our several disappointments today but these are just some shipping routes. I checked this earlier, you checked it again after, and we found nothing. And oh, it stopped glowing.”

“Wait! Why don’t we place the coin over it and see if it glows again?” Wonwoo this time suggested, pocketing his fountain pen, and then continued speaking after seeing the look of hesitance on your expressions. “And the coin is clearly safe, other than the fact that it’s, you know…glowing.”

“You pick it up then,” you instructed as Sonyoung returned the map of the shipping routes on table and laid it there flat.

“Fine,” he conceded sulkily and took the coin from where it sat and placed it over the parchment.

Amazingly, the paper did start glowing again, making the map invisible and then forming scribbles of white glow on the paper. The three of you crowded in front of it, trying to assess what you had discovered.

Soonyoung sighed. “I still don’t know what it is.”

“I’m as clueless too,” you added before stepping away.

“That’s a geass.”

The both of you turned to Wonwoo who was still scrutinizing it with meticulousness.

“I hope you’d care to explain?” you asked, walking to the place beside him.

Wonwoo closed his eyes and adjusted his glasses.

“It’s actually pretty rare. But basically, a geass is an agreement. However, it’s a thousand times more powerful than your ordinary paper and ink contract. It binds parties through magic which makes it unbreakable. If anyone attempts to do so, they will be met by a horrific death.”

“That’s nasty,” Soonyoung remarked with a scrunch on the nose.

“Indeed it is. Which is why nobody really attempts to seal agreements using geasses anymore because it binds for life. You only reserve it for incredibly important things. You could consider the soulmate bond as a form of geass made between two people.”

“Two unconsenting people, you mean?” You added, making a terse glanced at Wonwoo.

“Yes, right. So in this case,” Wonwoo continued, picking up the paper but making sure the coin is still in contact with it. “What we have here is a geass made between the Gestalts and…one Gustav Lemaire.”

“Hey, isn’t that the same judge?” Soonyoung called out, his brows knitting with intrigue. “You know, the one who dismissed the tax evasion case of Luce Trading? His name really fits the corrupt judge image so it stuck with me.”

“That’s novel,” you remarked with playful snide. “But anyway, if it’s between the Gestalts and the judge, then is this some kind of settlement?”

“It kind of is,” Wonwoo replied, as he read the script with narrowed eyes. “It says here…”

“It says what?” you asked, impatient.

“Give me a moment. It’s written in archaic script and I haven’t really mastered it yet,” Wonwoo said, still hunched over the document. “So, it says here that in exchange for the dismissal of the case as well as increased support for Luce Trading, the Gestalts agreed to…to illegally smuggle in Cilvekans into Porta Persa…”

Wonwoo turned his gaze back at you and Soonyoung as if he had realized something. His eyes were blank and his lips ajar as he uttered the same last words he had said like a whispered chant—clearly, it was a huge epiphany.

“I think we might’ve ran into something much bigger than we had expected.”

◇

Dusk was already settling on the horizon when you were able to return to your gaudy dorm room; painting the marble white walls in a gradient of pink skies and sunset orange. You hesitated before turning the doorknob which usually led to the common room—wondering if Lee Jihoon went back earlier than usual, and what you were going to do about it considering what had happened a few weeks ago.

There was really nothing left to say.

You shook those thoughts away and just braced yourself for the unforeseen. It made no sense to overthink situations which happened weeks ago. Lee Jihoon’s presence in the dorm was pretty much lacking ever since the whole Cilvekan issue had blown up. He might’ve forgotten it already and it made you look ridiculous being so hung up over it.

Unsurprisingly, the common room was empty and you only sighed at your dramatics. You thought something had changed between you and Jihoon that night, but it seemed like it was only your imagination. The dorm was as empty as when you had first arrived a few months ago.

With an innocuous shrug, you stepped away from the doorway and went for the dinner table. The suppressant you had drank from last night was wearing off and you needed another dose before that invasive voice in your head starts speaking again. You were glad that your body had finally developed a tolerance to the painful side effects of the suppressants, or else, people would’ve easily noticed how much pain you were trying to conceal.

Opening your pack of alchemical compounds and ingredients, you took a transparent olive green bottle and swirled it around to agitate the particles that had settled to the bottom. Removing the cork, you took a whiff of the godawful scent and simply prepared yourself for the equally rancid taste.  Before you could though, you…hesitated.

Hm?

You looked down on the bottle you were holding, the solution inside swirling as much as your mind was. Why were you hesitating? What was stopping you from taking another dose from the same suppressant you had been drinking for the past month? It was strange. Truly strange that you were making a decision over such a simple task that you had done over and over again for the past few months.

Didn’t you want to block that voice? Didn’t you want to prevent yourself from hurting that’s why you’re doing this? Then why are you hesitating? What’s stopping you from drinking?

“I feel heavy…”

You muttered softly as if any more weight in your voice could make it more unbearable. It was indeed strange—every time you decided to drink it, the heavier your heart becomes as if some parts of it were slowly turning into ice. You felt guilty for something; felt sorry for something you had no idea of. Could it be that you were actually feeling remorseful for the things you’ve done to your soulmate?

Gazing at the bottle one more time, you only felt more sick and grossed out; your stomach belching. It was like the dark liquid inside was a direct representation of all the hate and cold heartedness brewing inside your heart, and you didn’t like how it looked. It felt like some kind of cruel karma finally hitting you back.

Please don’t leave me…

A voice echoed in your head. You instantly panicked, afraid that it was really your soulmate, but it wasn’t. It was Jihoon’s voice. Jihoon wasn’t your soulmate.

Please don’t reject me. I’m sorry…

You didn’t know how to describe the pressure, the pain wringing your heart. It was excruciating. You felt sick. The look on Jihoon’s face that night was all your mind’s eye could see; the way he pleaded for you to stay by his side; the way he held you tightly between his arms as if you were going to slip away at any second. It was like you had caused him direct pain even if you didn’t know how or why.

“Jihoon…”

Your eyes wandered to the bottle in your hands again, but this time you stuck the cork back in, sealing it away for now. Whether or not you’ll stop taking them was a decision you weren’t ready to make. For now, it was best not to tempt karma.

Before you could utter another word however, you heard the main door open and you hurriedly cleaned up your mess on the table. You placed the green bottle in its usual place, glancing at it with thoughts in your head, before dismissing them altogether.

“Y/N? I didn’t know you’d be here,” a familiar voice echoed across the room, making you turn in an instant.

Jihoon was still clad in his formal attire—an all-black suit that made him look like he was going to a funeral. He had been busy running around gathering support for the petition he was championing and it had truly been an exhausting day. He had just finished hanging his coat over the sofa when you averted your attention to him.

“I—well, this is also my dorm so…” you awkwardly replied, your hands gesturing wildly.

“Ah, right, right. Sorry,” Jihoon replied, now a bit embarrassed of his rather obvious observation before he decided to walk away from you.

Considering his usual attitude, you assumed that he would immediately march his way towards his room and lock himself away from the outside world. However, the fact that he was still in the common room, pacing back and forth like some anxious teenager, debating internally if he wanted this or that remain, hinting that he was not done yet.

“Jihoon…?” You asked, slightly worried about him.

“I—“ he began, then wavered, his mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. It was embarrassing, but he just couldn’t find the courage to say what he wanted to say. Not after the fact that he had cried in front of you that night.

“Are…are you ok?” Your brows were furrowed, now wondering what was the matter with him. “I can make some basic potions—“

“No! No, I’m fine. I’m fine,” Jihoon interrupted and then pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “It’s just, well…you remember a few weeks ago when I got drunk? I realized I haven’t thanked you yet and I just wanted to make it up to you and well…”

Upon hearing his words, you immediately raised your brows in surprise. This was definitely not what you had expected.

“No, it’s ok! You don’t have to thank me!” you replied, now a tad bit embarrassed as well, as you gave him a small smile.

“But I want to,” he said with the usual firmness in his voice, glad that it was back. “And despite being roommates, we never had the chance to get to know each other better.”

“Oh,” was the only thing you could say at that time. He had a point though—you both were partners back in that stupid ball, plus he had seen your breakdown before and you had already seen him crying. You both should just call it quits and end the not-so ‘indifferent’ relationship you had between the two of you.

“Maybe we could have dinner together…?” Jihoon asked tentatively as he checked his pocket watch. “I know a place you might like.”

“Out-outside?” You asked, wholly astonished by how fast things had turned out. “I-uh…”

Honestly, there was no harm in having dinner with your roommate. You already live virtually together, so what’s a small dinner to the both of you anyway? And for some deeper reason, you wanted to indulge him. Maybe because you felt sorry for him that night, maybe you had grown fond of him over time, you don’t know. You weren’t sure. Maybe something did change that night.

“Only if you want to, of course. We can eat here as well—“

“It’s fine, Jihoon,” you interrupted, fiddling with your fingers because you couldn’t bear to look at him, especially with how fast your heart was racing. “Let’s have dinner together.”

◇

It was a rather lovely night outside.

The skies were dark and the moon and stars were twinkling brightly underneath you. Yet what caught your attention the most was where Jihoon had taken you for dinner.

Lanterns of various colors lit up above you, hanging on string and bathing the whole area in a warm and vibrant glow. There was live music as bands strum their mandolins and played their fiddles, creating an ambiance of celebration and vivid colors.

A lot of people had gathered in the area, raucous laughter and loud chatting could be heard from everywhere. All of these placed next to a cliff side which had the best view of Porta Persa at night; the lights from houses and street lamps shimmering against the dark backdrop of the port city like distant stars high above the night sky. It was truly a sight to behold, especially when things had gotten tense and gloomy lately.

“It’s a night market,” Jihoon explained, still clad in his all black attire though he had removed his tie and unbuttoned the first two on his shirt. “Since the ports are where most tourists enter Porta Persa, we coordinated with all the local governments in the country and established a night market to boast the different cuisines found in Porta Persa.”

Your eyes were still filled by the sights while Jihoon began talking, yet despite that, you were listening to him intently, and his explanation just made you explode with amazement.

“Oh wow! Really? That’s actually quite ingenious!” You exclaimed with a bright smile, turning to him as you both walked around to check the stalls. “We should definitely feature this in the Edition! Look at what most people are missing out!”

Jihoon made a small smile at your comment, watching as you checked every single food stall for something you haven’t seen yet. He liked it when you were just having fun, unbothered by the problems of the world—just genuinely at the moment, smiling and laughing in front of him. If you could stay like that, he felt like he was at peace.

“Look Jihoon!” you called out to him excitedly, on your hands was a grilled fish on a stick. “This is a delicacy from the Oihe region! They would soak the fish for a month in Rejhu juice, which is a fruit only found there that has impressive preservation properties, and then grill it! It could go on for several months which is perfect for the region’s harsh cold climate. That’s what the lady told me though.”

“I haven’t tried that yet,” he remarked, and then smirked, “Maybe I’ll take some from your share.”

“Eh…but this is mine,” you pursed your lips and turned your head. “You go buy your own.”

Acting like a petulant child, Jihoon couldn’t help but chuckle at your antics, much to your chagrin. With an irate expression, you looked at him, who was covering half of his face with his hand as he laughed—you didn’t really appreciate being laughed at.

“What’s the matter?” you asked with your eyebrows knitting, your hands on your waist.

“No, no, I’m sorry,” he replied, still in his laughing fit which eventually subsided into a smirk in a few moments. “I just—I never expected you to act like this at all.”

“Act?” you leaned your head to the side in bewilderment. “But I’m always like this.”

“I always thought you were the serious type, you know,” Jihoon explained, his lips curving; his eyes glistening against the vivid golden lights up above you. “I just never anticipated you could be so adorably childish as well.”

“Adorably childish?!” you repeated, now a bit flustered that you had been acting that way the whole time. “That—that was never my intention!”

Jihoon only smiled at you and patted your head gently. “It’s okay. I like it.”

You couldn’t muster a reply to that comment because of how heated your face had become. No one really complimented you like that, and above all, it was Lee Jihoon who did it—the same person you were rather indifferent four months ago.

“Come on, let’s go have some dinner,” he simply said without further ado. Taking in your silence, Jihoon decided to move on and walk around the market, leaving you in your thoughts.

In the end, both you found yourselves sitting on a table with a clear view of the Porta Persa skyline, giving the situation a rather romantic ambiance which you never really had planned on. Before you, warm food of various origins were placed neatly on the table, waiting to be eaten and fill your hungry stomachs.

“You have…. rather interesting choices,” you remarked upon seeing Jihoon’s meal of choice while you carefully dissected your fish from before.

“Hm?” Jihoon looked up to you with a questioning look, a fork and a knife on his hands. “Oh, these are from Santaragossa. They might be a bit spicy, but I do miss them from time to time.”

“Ah, you were from Santaragossa? I always thought you were born and raised in the capital,” you replied, taking a sip from a citrus fruit blend you found rather interesting.

“Why so?” he asked, downing a piece of braised meat. “I assumed I gave an impression of someone from the provinces.”

“Not at all,” you gave him an austere look. “You seem like you run the place.”

“Do I now?” Jihoon asked, his lips again curving into a tiny smirk. “I never realized you thought of me that way. I appreciate your sentiments though.”

“But what is it like?” you suddenly asked. “I mean, living in Santaragossa?”

Jihoon leaned his head to the side, wondering why you were asking him this so suddenly.

“That place was my childhood. The summers were cool and the winters were not too cold. Most of the land are large vineyards and olive groves so I would run around a lot and play with the animals and so on. There is also a large lake near the house which is a great place to swim in during summer months. I do have private tutors, so please don’t get the wrong idea that I wasn’t in school.”

As you watched him talk about his hometown, you noticed how Jihoon had brightened up, rekindling fond memories from his childhood. He seemed to be at peace and less troubled than he was a few hours before, and it gave you a sense of serenity as well, gazing at him like what you were doing at that moment.

“Just by looking at you, I could already tell that it’s such a great place,” you remarked, grinning. “I’ve never really left the capital before, that’s why I always wanted to go to one of the provinces. Since you definitely sold me the idea, I might want to go to Santaragossa someday, given the opportunity.”

A thought struck Jihoon in an instant.

“Hypothetically speaking, if I’d invite you to come with me to Santaragossa next week, would you go?”

At that very moment, in the middle of a night market, you were stunned to silence.

-Hyeri CHAP 1 | CHAP 2 | CHAP 3 | CHAP 4 | CHAP 5 | CHAP 6 |

[buddha-in-disguise]

This is how it's done

Episode 5.15 at last.

While the emphasis has been on Nia's story in this episode, the synopsis made it clear Alex, Kelly and J'onn had a secondary storyline running as well. So again we were eager to watch knowing they were finally getting more than a token few minutes together.

Did it deliver?

Oh hell yes.

You just have to look on Twitter to see the praise being heaped on it by fans.

But first let's get the elephant in the room out of the way. William.

The opening sequence as Kara is fighting with Nia, and Nia has to be the one reminding Kara she has a date? Already covered by me and others, but to reiterate: that does not give a vibe of someone excited to be going on a first date. You can't even use the excuse of her mind was on the fight, because so was Nia's.

As to Kara at her apartment with Alex prior to the date?

Those words, "Cancel it for me."

Lets say (for arguments sake) it is nerves again speaking. Maybe it is, but that she is even having those thoughts? That she completely forgot about the 1st date, and needed reminding? If Kara can't get invested in the date, how are the audience expected to become invested?

As for the date itself. Kara arrives.... having been told by Alex to wear the blue top because .... well reasons .... and she is wearing the purple? So, not wanting to go with the best look then?

I didn't mind the date per se, although I did wonder if Kara was simply trying to not show pool skills, because I can't believe for a second, with Alex as a sister, and the control Kara now has on her powers (worry over lack of control would be the only other reason for her hesitation that I can think of), Kara hasn't been pulled into playing many times.

Did I get a date vibe? No. I felt more bonding yes (like why has it taken until now to even vaguely have that much), but date? Nope. Still not feeling it. If any of the above was a one off instance, you could shrug it off. But all of them? Sorry but as I say, if Kara isn't that invested in a first date, then we can't be expected to be as invested. However, that isn't to say that William annoyed me. In truth having him more on the sidelines was a relief as it finally allowed others to get some much needed screen time.

The Nia storyline.

This is obviously one extremely close to me, as my husband is transgender, and we have other family who are also transgender.

Nicole's input was definitely felt. Some of the lines she spoke were ones we have said ourselves almost word for word.

This is a topic that is one I've been extremely vocal about, and one in particular I have spoken about (in the William and Kara at CatCo scene) is the figures for transgender people killed in the last year alone in the USA, but more importantly that this number is likely not a true representation as many who die are misgendered after death.

It was so important to show just how bad for the transgender community it is. And no, it wouldn't necessarily be a fact Kara would know. Even those in the LGBTQ community aren't always aware of these figures. As for William being the one stating the figures back to Kara, again in the context I had no qualms about it. In fact having a CIS straight man write the piece and be a supportive ally is an important message in it's own right. I was worried that wouldn't come across, but I felt it did.

If ever there was a line that spoke volumes in this weeks Supergirl episode it was this:

"They want us to be invisible because of their own fears, they want to erase us so...... we need to shine even brighter." - Nia Nal

And shine Nicole Maines (and Roxy Wood, because the additional line about being a Black transgender woman - take my heart, stomp over it, then expect me to function), did. Both deserve so much praise on the way they delivered their performances.

I genuinely cried at some of this weeks episode, because the experiences have been ones we have faced as a transgender household. Being white does afford us a privilege that Black transgender people (especially the women) don't have. But as I say, it has been something I've been vocal about for a long time.

Lastly Kara and Nia on the balcony. Holy mother of god (or goddess), tears. Again. Nicole and Melissa once again were so good it felt like a punch to the gut. Kara wiping that tear off Nia's cheek. Big ugly sobbing from me. Gah! Just ....

Now Alex and Kelly. While I'm still craving a nice intimate atmosphere at home with them, having had so little of Dansen (and Kelly) it was a relief that for once Kelly wasn't given diminished screentime. Not only that, she was instrumental in helping Alex navigate through the VR world.

Alex having that PTSD flashback to being in the tank. Whoa, finally acknowledging it affected her and obviously still does. I loved how Kelly is so good at helping Alex maintain her equilibrium. You could tell it wasn't just because of her training or profession, but as a girlfriend who knows and understands how to communicate to Alex in that moment of stress, much like Alex was able to realise Malefic was manifesting as Kelly in the earlier part of the season, simply because she knew her girlfriend well enough.

Watching Alex train to get used to the Martian weapon, felt very reminiscent of S1 where Alex was training Kara early on. It was good to see her off balance for once in her training, as she has always shown a confidence in her ability until now. For those who complain she brought up wanting to be back at the DEO, as someone who has heavy military presence in our family (for at least 4 generations on my maternal side), I can safely say, going from military (and remember the DEO is recognised and spoken about in canon as being a military operation), and suddenly and unexpectedly thrown back into civilian life is one heck of an adjustment. It's an adjustment for most even when they know it's coming. To be so abrupt, so unexpected? Alex is going to want that structure back, and have that support around her. It is absolutely not unrealistic for her to feel this way or to talk about it. I would've been more surprised if she hadn't.

"And this is my gun."

Alex giving no crap. The whole rescue sequence was a joy to watch.

If I had a complaint, as I mentioned, I would've loved just a moment of real quiet intimacy between Kelly and Alex. We've barely seen anything of that sort. I hope we get something next episode (which also looks amazing from the trailer).

I could go through the episode and pick up so many times on how good it was. It was so much, I know I will have forgotten something I wanted to say. But I'm exhausted (almost no sleep will do that to you, damn being in the UK and these stupid o'clock viewing times), and it was so much to unpack.

Brainy, was barely in the episode but damn, so lovely (& heartbreaking) to see him give the information to the NCPD to help against transphobic attacks.

Onto a side plot, but finally we have more about Leviathan.

Leviathan have those bodies suspended.

What if William dies in 5.19 and becomes one of those suspended bodies for 5.20 or was supposed to, as Nicole mentioned on her Instagram story they still had scenes to film, and a couple were pretty amazing? With Staz back, would it have involved him, possibly as a sleeper agent? I've touted this idea before. While I would prefer that a MOC isn't cast into being a bad guy again, or killed off, I would more than happily see him simply go back to London and The Times. But I guess we wait to see what happens there.

But if, like Russell in 5a, he becomes an unwitting agent of Leviathan & a bad guy, cue fight scene, possibly in a VR setting? Maybe? Who knows.

Last but by no means least - they killed off Jeremiah. Since we're not entirely sure if Cadmus operated in the same way on Earth Prime as they did on Earth 38, we don't yet know the circumstances behind his death.

Will we get more explanation about it? Honestly I'm not overly bothered unless it helps serve a current storyline. Merely because episode numbers are running out, and it does at least bring us closure on his character one way or another. Something a lot of us have questioned for so long now.

As for complaints, the only ones expressing any real disappointment have been fans who have either regularly attacked other fans (especially those of in the SC or Dansen fandoms), or the outright transphobic users (I won't call them fans), who as the episode makes clear, are everywhere. The transphobes come out in force everytime with Nicole, so it isn't a surprise to see them again. As Nia says, it what transgender people face on a daily basis.

Plus with no Lena in the episode, it helps show that fans didn't need a Lena/Kara centric episode for this to garner such positive reactions, particularly from the LGBTQ fans. In some ways, as many have been saying (yes even SC fans), this Lena drama has long since gone by its sell by date and not having Lena once more stuck in her laboratory wasn't missed. And god, I say this as a huge Lena fan. I still want her on screen of course, but we need progression on what is happening with her. Both Lex and Lena have felt stale of late, and while I know it changes as we get into the last few episodes, I can truly say neither was missed this time. And before anyone jumps in, no this isn't bashing SC (I still ship both Dansen and SC, as well as Brainia), or saying SC shouldn't happen, or Lena is evil, or not needed. I don't think that at all. I merely am getting tired of a merry-go-round on Lena in her laboratory that we've had of late, & the only interaction has been with Lex. Time to break her out of that cell!

I don’t know what they were putting in the water in Vancouver when they did the Batwoman and Supergirl episodes this week, but they both had me simultaneously laughing & crying! It looked ugly for a minute there.

Both were outstanding episodes.

As much as I've had my criticism over some of this season, when Supergirl get it right like they did here, they soar! This was one of my top episodes for the entire series.

And despite all the news in the world right now, Supergirl trended on Twitter again.

Gif courtesy of @ Daily_danvers on Twitter.

[songtoyou]

Chapter Three: Need The Sun To Break

Would You Call That Love

Pairing: Chris Evans x Raina Morrison (OC)

Rating: PG to PG-13 (Might be 18+ for some chapters)

Description: There was always that one person Chris Evans tended to turn to when he was not in a committed relationship, Raina Morrison. He could confide in her about things going on in his life that he did not feel comfortable talking to his family or close friends about. Chris and Raina were able to establish a way to openly communicate with one another, but also being respectful of the other’s time and needs. It was the only constant “relationship” he had, but without all the nonsense of trying to build a life together. A “friends with benefits” situation. However, what happens when Chris starts rethinking his “relationship” with Raina and if either are willing to pursue something more?

Chapter Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions the death of a loved one.

Word Count: 3,161

Author’s Note: This chapter was tough, particularly the beginning, since it is very emotional. I hope this chapter provides a little bit more insight into who Raina is as a person. 

Feedback is always welcomed. If you want to be tagged, please let me know.

Sadly, I do not know Chris Evans or anyone in his family, and this is just a fictional take on his life. I do not permit this fic to be reposted on other platforms.  

Again, thanks to @southerngracela​ for the support.

*Note: Updated for edits on grammar and punctuation.

September 26, 2010

Returning to the home ground after their loss to the New York Jets, the New England Patriots were looking to rebound with a win against the Buffalo Bills. The Patriots were able to score a 7-yeard touchdown thanks to the star quarterback, Tom Brady. Anyone from New England loved Thomas Edward Patrick Brady Jr. He was their golden boy, despite not even being from the area. A west coaster who grew up in California could melt the hearts of any contemptuous New Englander. 

For Chris Evens, just saying the name ‘Tom Brady’ around him would result in him turning into a blushing schoolgirl. Tom brought pride back the Patriots with six Superbowl championships, nine Conference championships, and seventeen Division championships. For any New Englander, it was a feeling they were going to hold onto and cherish.

“Go…go…go…YES!!” Chris cheered as he got up from his couch to cheer Tom Brady’s second touchdown.

“What happened?” asked Scott as he rushed back from the kitchen when he heard Chris celebrating.

“Brady just scored a TD,” replied Chris.

“Fuck! I mean, yes! This is the last time I get up to get you a beer from the fridge. You get them yourselves from now on. Another commercial! Give me a break.” Scott scolded, taking his seat next to Chris on the couch. 

“The Pats need to win this. The team has already lost to the New York Giants and Jets. If they lose to the Bills, then Raina will never let me hear the end of it. She loves to gloat and rub it in my face whenever New York wins anything,” Chris shared as he took a sip of his beer.

Scott was aware of how Chris would essentially light up or blush whenever he talked about Raina. One had to pay attention, or it would not be visible, but Scott was a master at reading his brother’s body language and emotions.

“Speaking of our favorite chanteuse, you ever going to ask her out, or are you just going to pine for the rest of your life?” asked Scott bluntly. He was never one to beat around the bush when getting information, especially with his older brother. 

“What are you talking about? Raina and I are just friends. Good friends. Men and women can be friends. Just like Tara and me,” Chris defended strongly, “Why are you always pushing this narrative that I like Raina more than merely a friend?”

“Because you do. I can see it. Ma can see it. Shanna and Carly see it. Blind people see it,” Scott proceeded to enlighten Chris. 

Chris scoffed and reiterated as calmly as he could to Scott, “Okay, hold up. Do you guys just sit around and gossip about Raina and me? We are friends! That’s it! Nothing more, nothing less.” 

When the game returned from commercial break, Chris’s phone rang. He was inclined to ignore it, but when he saw it was from Raina, he answered.

“Speaking of Raina, here she is calling, probably to talk smack about the game. ‘Hello?’” Chris spoke into his phone happily. However, his mood changed when he heard sobs on the other end.

“Rai, what’s wrong? What happened?” Chris asked, concerned as he sat up straighter.

Scott perked up and asked, “What’s going on?”

Chris merely shrugged and asked Raina again, “What’s going on? Are you okay? Talk to me!”

When she was able to catch her breath, Raina cried out, “My mom died.”

“WHAT!” Chris yelled, jumping up from the couch and began pacing back and forth in his living room. Scott straightened up and watched Chris intently in the hope of finding out what is going on with their close friend.

“She died last night… in the hospital. It was a heart attack,” Raina choked out as best as she could while crying over the death of her mother, “We thought it was just the flu. She was feeling well all day…throwing up…not looking great. My dad called the paramedics, and when they got to the house, they told us that it was just the flu and that it would best not take mom in as she would only be waiting in the ER. But then we had to call them back an hour later because she got worse. She was barely incoherent and was drooling,” Raina stopped to catch her breath and sob but went on to share, “It was awful, Chris. You should have seen the look on the paramedics’ faces when they came back and saw her condition. You could see that they realized they fucked up. Oh my God! My mom is dead, Chris. What am I going to do?” 

Chris was at a loss for words. He had no idea what to say or what to do. All Chris could do was listen to her desperate sobs. It was not long before he felt tears begin to sting his eyes. Chris sat down at the dining room table, put his head in his free hand, and cried along with his best friend. 

July 24, 2019

“Only one more night to go. You excited, kid?” asked Jerry, Raina’s manager, as he sat on the couch in her dressing room. She was on break from rehearsals. 

“I go back and forth between wanting to throw-up to crying. I am not quite sure if it is crying out of joy or because I am so nervous,” she revealed honestly.

“What do you have to be nervous about? You have done this show a bunch of times. You have gotten raved reviews from the workshops and the previews. You are going to kill it,” said Jerry and continued with, “When are you going to realize that you are one of the best performers out of your peers? Hell, Variety magazine referred to you as the ‘the best vocalist of her generation.’ That is a huge praise. You wouldn’t have come this far if people thought you didn’t have what people call ‘it.’ You’re no flash in the pan, kid.”

“Thank you, Jerry. I love you; you know that. I am so lucky to have you in my corner,” Raina replied with a smile, but then asked, “What am I going to do when you leave me, though? Who am I going to get to watch out for me?”

“That is not something you have to worry about today. I am not going anywhere, Raina. You talk to your dad lately?”

“Uh…yeah. He’s doing alright,” Raina said as she sat down next to Jerry on the couch and shared that her dad was coming to see the show.

“Wow! No offense, but I am surprised he is leaving Long Island to come to see the show.”

“You and me both. Dad is making a trip the week of his birthday in August. I think I am going to ask Chris to join, if he can, that is. He and my dad have always gotten along, and I am sure both would be happy to get to see each other….and why are you giving me that look, Jerry?” asked Raina curiously.

Jerry just chuckled and shook his head, “Nothing, little one. I am simply happy that you and Chris have managed to stay friends for this long. Just friends, right?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Raina responded, “Just come out and say what you want to say, Jerry. Lay it on me. Don’t hold back now.”

“Okay. Have you ever thought about being more than friends with Chris?”

Taking a deep breath in and letting out, Raina contemplated her thoughts about Chris. Had she ever thought about being more than friends with Chris? Technically, they were more than friends. They started a friend with benefits relationship five years ago, but no one knew about it, especially people in their inner circles. Their relationship was just for them without the fear of anyone’s judgment and scrutiny.

She got a taste of that when she dated Tom Hiddleston back in 2016. Neither fully comprehended how much their coupling would turn their worlds upside down. The media frenzy was something she and Tom had never experienced. For some reason, people could not wrap their heads around the notion that this English actor who was posh and well-educated would date a songstress from New York who had a reputation of being reserved and reclusive. It did not help when both fandoms got involved in the mix. Tom’s fans were brutal in their critiques of Raina. If they were not ragging on her clothes, hair, or overall looks, they were ragging on her music or personality. Social media allowed people to smear Raina’s reputation to the extreme. 

None of this she blamed on Tom as there was not much she could do. She knew he did not condone the horrid behavior of some of his fans. However, there was a small part where Raina wished he said something to get them to back off during that time. It was an eye-opening experience for Raina in certain areas but mostly left her confused about what she wanted in a partner. 

With Chris, their friendship grew naturally. It was as if the universe intervened and made sure these two individuals were important fixtures in each other’s lives.

“Jerry, you know better than anyone that if you find a real friend in this business, then you hold on to them. That is all I am going to say on this matter.”

Jerry put his hands up in surrender, “Fair enough. I trust you know what you are doing, kid.”

Later that night, while Raina was lounging on her couch in her penthouse, she went through the text exchange she had with Chris throughout the day. 

1:30 p.m.

Chris: We’ve landed. After we get our bags, we’re going to head to the hotel. 

2:45 p.m.

Raina: Hey, been super busy with interviews and last-minute rehearsals this morning and afternoon. Glad you guys made it safely. Where are you guys staying?

Chris: The Frederick Hotel.

Raina: That is a nice hotel. Not far from where I live too. Only a few blocks away from each other. Do you all want to come over for a nightcap?

Chris: Shouldn’t you be resting up for tomorrow?

Raina: Please, no amount of rest will help ease my worries. Murphy’s Law, remember. If anything can go wrong, it will go wrong. I guess I just have to accept that some things are out of my control. 

Chris: You got nothing to worry about.

Raina. I have to get back to rehearsals. Talk to you later. Bye.

6:30 p.m.

Chris: You home yet?

Raina: Yeah. What are you guys up to?

Chris: Getting ready to head out to dinner at Serafina. Do you want to come along to join us?

Raina: Thanks, but not tonight. It’d be best for me to take it easy for the rest of the night.

Chris: Gotcha. Do you mind if I stop by later? 

Raina: If you plan on stopping by, then can you please bring me some takeout please?

Chris: What do you want?

By eight o’clock, Chris was sitting on Raina’s couch scrolling through Netflix while she ate the minestrone he brought from the restaurant. 

“Goddamn, this soup is good. What did you eat?” Raina asked as she continued to slurp her soup.

“Cacio e Pepe. Then the three of us split dessert. Well, mom and Scott ate most of it. You know I’m not a dessert person,” informed Chris and continued with, “What do you want to watch and please don’t say Gilmore Girls. You know I can’t stand that show.”

“Don’t hate on Gilmore Girls.”

“Uh…you hate on Gilmore Girls all the time. If you can’t stand them so much, then why do you watch it?” asked Chris.

“Because, despite all of its flaws, the show has a lot of heart. No, don’t pick Schitt’s Creek. You haven’t seen it yet, and we need to do a proper marathon viewing party. No, not Friends or The Office. I’m not in the mood to watch Parks and Recreation. Ooh, Derry Girls! Pick that one,” ordered Raina.

When Raina finished her dinner, she got up to put her bowl in the kitchen sink and asked Chris if he wanted something to drink. 

“Just water.”

Opening the fridge to retrieve two bottles of water, she saw the gift she got from Chris nestled on the top shelf. It brought a smile to her face seeing the gift box. While she did open the box to see what was inside, she had yet to open the fortune cookie.

“Thanks for the gift. The fortune cookie looks good. I can’t wait to eat it,” said Raina as he handed Chris his bottled water.

He took the water from and replied,” Oh, you haven’t opened the fortune yet?”

“Nah, I was gonna wait until you got here.”

The message that Chris included in the gift was still very much on his mind. He was continually wondering how Raina would perceive it. Would she be happy? Mad? Upset? It was driving him mad, not knowing.

“Maybe you should open it now?” Chris suggested hesitantly. 

“Yeah, sure. Can you get it? I’m going to brush my teeth. I need to get the minestrone taste out of my mouth.”

Raina sprinted from the couch to the stairs as Chris slowly stood up from the sofa. He continued his slow pace to the kitchen and opened the fridge to take out the top shelf’s gift box. As Chris stared at the box, he realized that the content of what was inside could change his relationship with Raina forever. It could bring them closer or put distance between them.

“All you have to do is be honest. Just be honest about your feelings. Even if Raina doesn’t feel the same way, she won’t drop you as friends. You mean a lot to her, and she values her friendship with you,” the voice in Chris’s head reassured. 

The sound of excited clapping broke Chris out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see Raina skipping over to him happily. He pushed the box towards Raina, and she began opening it. She carefully pulled out the fortune cookie, which was wrapped in a clear plastic bag. Slowly opening the plastic, she pulled out the cookie and placed it on the clean counter. 

“Oh my God. It’s so pretty. A chocolate lover’s dream,” she admired and hugged Chris.

“You’re welcome, my little cookie monster.”

“I almost don’t want to ruin it.”

“Well, you going to have to see my message inside,” Chris told her.

“Oh right, there would be a message inside it. I was too amazed by its beauty that I forgot about that part,” said Raina and began to break the fortune cookie in half. 

Before she could read the message, Chris spoke up, “Raina, wait! Before you read that, just…” 

However, she proceeded to read the message before Chris get his words out. He could not breathe while she read and stared intently at her as he mouthed the words he wrote. 

Lips trembling and eyes watering from the tears about the form, Raina immediately hugged Chris. He was shocked at first but instantly hugged her back. 

When pulling back, she said, “Thank you. This is so sweet,” wiping the tears from her eyes, Raina continued, “I’m going to keep this forever. I’m going to frame it one of those fireproof picture frames, you know. Or the one that is used to hold the U.S. Constitution. I’m going to get one of those, and this will go in it.”

She went in for another hug and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Raina took a piece of the fortune cookie and popped it into her mouth. “Alright, I’m going to put this in a safe place so that it won’t get ruined. I’ll be right back.”

 Chris stared at her retreating back and was left confused. That was not how he expected it to go down. “You were worried she’d be upset. She was happy. More than happy. But did she get the underlying meaning of his words?” Chris’s inner voice asked himself. 

The relationship between Chris and Raina was so blurred that she could not see a declaration of love when it was literal in front of her. However, Chris could not blame her for not being able to read between the lines. She had so much on her plate at the moment that maybe she was able to process his words. 

“Okay, I placed it in a clear file holder so nothing can spill on it,” said Raina when she came back into the kitchen area and asked Chris if he was okay when she saw a worrying look on his face. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m glad you liked your gift. You deserved it. I should start heading out. You need your rest for tomorrow, and I don’t want to keep you up.”

Raina was taken back by his sudden change in demeanor. She noticed he looked a little sad and defeated for some reason. “You don’t have to leave just yet. I mean we can still watch some TV and relax. You okay, Chris? She asked again.

“I’m good. Tired is all. It’s been a long day.”

Raina nodded and followed Chris to the front door. “Chris,” she spoke and looked at him. His ocean blue eyes were one of her favorite things about him. Often, she could find herself lost in staring at them. Reaching out the tenderly grab his face, she placed a kiss on his lips. It did not take long for Chris to reciprocate. He pulled Raina closer to wrap his arms around her. Opening her mouth to allow his tongue inside, she allowed Chris to take the lead. 

Raina slowly began to walk them both back over to the living area, but Chris proceeded to step back. 

“I should go. I don’t think it would be a good idea if we, we shouldn’t…not tonight,” Chris professed, although it killed him to turn her down. Chris wanted nothing more than to stay the night. 

Feeling a little defeated, Raina nodded and said, “Okay. I understand.”

Reaching for the door handle, Chris said, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep tight.”

With a small smile on her face, Raina countered with, “See you tomorrow. Goodnight, Christopher.”

“Goodnight, Raina,” he said, but Raina could hear a hint of sadness in his voice, and she for the life of her could not understand why. 

When Chris finally left, Raina went back into the kitchen and put away the fortune cookie. 

“I love you too, Chris. More than you realize,” Raina said to herself. Once again, she could feel tears about to form. 

“It’s going to be a long and sleepless night,” she said to herself as she prepared to get ready for bed.

[littlemisssquiggles]

Honestly, Squiggles I share you annoyance with Volume 8 only lasting 1 to 2 days. I was really looking forward to Oscar and Oz bonding and reconnecting. Maybe we would even get a flashback of Oscar on the farm and actually see his family. Sadly, we wont since too much will be going on for anyone to feel anything, apparently. I expected this story to go on for months so we can Witness Oscar and Ruby missing each other. I WAS hoping that Ruby would actually feel bad for what she did.

Thanks Dagger. I’m glad to hear that I’m not the only person not really feeling the aster from this new RWBY news. To be more frank, I’m more feeling the mode (to quote Robin and Impulse from Young Justice). I’m not sure if you saw my last response post to @keyenuta​ but after some more thought, I’m starting to see the 1-2 days decision as being not too bad. At least, it’s not so bad when I think about it from the perspective of what if…the CRWBY Writers pulled an Avenger’s Endgame at the very start of V8?

I’m starting to dig the concept of…what if…V8 began with our heroes learning of Oscar’s presumed death from the start leading to them spending the volume dealing with the impact of his death on the team; particularly the members closest to Oscar (meaning Ruby, Jaune, Nora and Ren).

Here’s how I’m looking at it:

What if…in the first chapter of V8, the volume kicks off exactly where the last season left us. Salem has officially arrived in Atlas and is demanding that the kingdom be surrendered to her or face destruction. Let’s say in the wake of Salem making her assault on Atlas, our heroes get wind of Qrow and Robyn being imprisoned and taken to Atlas Prison. This is after Jaune also informs the group that Oscar went off to do something on his own and didn’t come back which just sends red flags to Jaune who is more or less having Pyrhha flashbacks.

Therefore…what if… RWBY V8 CH1 throws us straight into a rescue mission where our heroes decide to take a chance to return to Atlas with their goal being to rescue their captured comrades---using Ironwood dealing with Salem’s arrival as a distraction.

At the start of Endgame, we began the movie with our heroes learning of Thanos’ whereabouts and in the first few minutes of the movie, we got them tracking Thanos down, apprehending him---realising that he had destroyed the Infinity Stones and their last chance of saving their loved ones lost to “the snap”, all culminating in Thor killing Thanos by decapitation. As the audience, we got all of that within the first few scenes of the movie before the title sequence.

So I like the concept of V8 beginning with a similar feel. First episode is our heroes seeing that Salem has arrived alongside discovering that three of their allies were captured. So the story for the first episode is focused on the rescue mission to save Qrow, Robyn and Oscar. I’ve started to dig the idea of V8 starting like this right off the bat and by the end of the very first episode, much like in Endgame, the chapter ends with Ruby and friends learning that they failed to save Oscar since their actions lead to Ironwood “killing” Oscar as a result of their betrayal of his trust.

Perhaps it can even conclude similarly to how the first portion of Endgame concluded---upon learning that Oscar was dead---it’s a case where everything goes blurry for everyone involved---Ruby especially. Basically picture a moment where Ironwood announce that Oscar is dead and it leads into a moment where time practically stops for Ruby---everything becomes blurry for her to the point that she doesn’t even realize that the group had run out of time for their little rescue mission and needed to leave. It basically takes both Yang and Weiss grabbing Ruby and dragging her away for her to finally move.

Part of the reason why I’ve been anticipating the reactions of the group learning of Oscar’s “death” is to see Ruby’s reaction most of all since a part of me strongly believes that this could be a really good segway for the PLOT to delve into Ruby’s repressed emotions of losing her mother and finally address how her death has affected her both emotionally and psychologically.

Given how it was briefly mentioned by Yang way back in V2 how young Ruby took to her mother’s death and given how we had that scene from last season where Ruby practically fell apart at the mere mention of her mother by Salem---I would very much like for V8 to finally address this lingering elephant in the room and the alleged loss of Oscar would’ve been a good parallel to lead into that. At least in my opinion.

This is why I’m now very, VERY curious to see how V8 will start. Because now that I think about it, regardless of whether or not the story for the season will take place over 1-2 days; there is still a chance for it to more or less hit all the emotional benchmarks that some of us Pineheads and Rosegardening Pineheads wish to see in respect to the growing bond between our two smaller, more honest souls.

For all we know, V8 could be just like V6 in terms of time line. As I’ll reiterate, V6 took place over the span of 4 days after a time jump of 2 weeks. So…who’s to say something similar won’t be done for V8? As far as I know, the only thing that was confirmed by the CRWBY is that the events of V8 will take place over 1-2 days.

Will those 1-2 days happen AFTER another brief time jump like in V6? That’s what I’ll wait to see confirmed or not.

Personally I’m willing to let the whole 1-2 days decision slide if another momentary time jump was done AFTER where V7 left things off. Just like V6. Let V8 kick off where V7 ended. Let us have the failed rescue mission resulting in the team learning of Oscar’s death while Atlas falls to Salem. Then from V8CH2, let the actual story kick off after a time jump of a couple of weeks. I’m hoping it’s something like that and that’s the small inkling of hope I’m going to cling to for now.

Other than that, I think the whole Ruby and Oscar missing each other can still be done for you, Dagger. Think of it like this, fam. Imagine…part of Ruby’s development for next season involving her as our so-called indomitable spark of hope being forced to lead her team in the wake of Atlas and its people falling prey to Salem and her army all the while repressing her feelings over Oscar’s “death” just as how she repressed her feelings over her mother’s death?

Imagine…watching Ruby be all nonchalant over her grief to the point beginning to affect her actions---making her more reckless and moodly---only for her to ultimately suffer a meltdown at some point because of it?

And imagine if…at the same time Ruby is having her breakdown over her feelings of losing Oscar mixed in with her feelings over her mother, let’s say…somewhere in another part of Mantle; Oscar is having his own little meltdown moment as being on his own is starting to make him lose hope as well.

In the Little Prince story, there is a point in the tale where the Prince discovers a rose garden which causes him to abandon his feelings for his rose. Perhaps….there could be a point in both Ruby and Oscar’s respective stories where both children lose themselves in their emotions sparked by their feelings for each other and in that moment, they both simultaneously either realize just how much they truly meant to each other.

I can probably say more about this but bottom-line, what I’m mostly saying is that the Rosebuds realizing their feelings for each other can still be done Dagger. It might be done differently than we anticipated but…I think it can still be done. I want to believe it can still be done.

Despite the part of me that’s peeved by this writing decision by the CRWBY Writers---nevertheless, after more thought, I think things can still be done especially if it’s done like Endgame. While I wanted to have the team learn of Oscar’s death later in the volume, I actually think it wouldn’t be so bad if the volume starts off with our heroes already learning of Oscar’s death and we spent the season seeing how it has impacted them; particularly those closest to Oscar (i.e. Ruby, Jaune, Nora and Ren).

We’ll have to wait and actually see how V8 kicks off but in the meantime, that’s how this squiggle meister is going to look at it from now on. I hope this alternative perspective can help you feel a bit more optimistic fam.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2020)

[orionsangel86]

SPN Speculation - SDCC chatter

Hey guys, a little birdy told me that Tumblr hasn’t been handling the SDCC news all that well? I have been asked to come back and share some thoughts I have so far only been floating around in GCs and very briefly on Twitter.

For those of you feeling negative about Season 15, that’s of course your prerogative, but I am honestly extremely happy with what tidbits of information we have received. 

This got long so under a cut is quotes from SDCC and my own reactions and speculation including an ending concept I thought of that I am quite happy with.

First of all, Andrew Dabb’s joke about only 30% of the audience liking the ending was just that, a JOKE. They were digging at Game of Thrones. Bobo has already confirmed on Twitter previously that SPN ending will be NOTHING like Game of Thrones. 

https://twitter.com/robertberens/status/1127821427149721600

https://twitter.com/robertberens/status/1127976311303970816

This was back during the final few eps of GoT when Bobo got really chatty with fans online about the way GoT told it’s stories. He confirmed that SPN is completely different, believes in heroism, and is focused on its characters rather than the world at large.

What Bobo essentially was saying was that SPN isn’t going for a dark gloomy ending more focused on the universe than each characters individual end journeys. SPN will have a satisfying end for its audience compared to the dark and gloomy hopeless ending GoT presented us with.

So any snark they had at SDCC comparing SPN to GoT was prob based on this and is totally not to be taken seriously.

What made me feel far more positive was Dabb and Bobo saying the following:

Dabb: “you want people to feel it was worth their time. Because this show is a big time investment. Three hundred and twenty seven hours [is a lot]. You don’t want to leave people feeling hollow, you don’t want to leave them feeling cynical. You don’t want to make them think we don’t take very seriously the amount of time and effort they put into this show and the amount of time and effort we put into this show. So that doesn’t mean the ending is always happy and everybody is high-giving. But it means the journey was worth something and came to a place that makes everyone feel it was worth taking that trip.”

Bobo said “at it’s core, making sure we end powerfully and meaningfully the stories of Jack, Cas, Sam and Dean, and honor them and their characters and their emotions and the audiences emotions for them.... that’s sort of our north star in breaking the show.”

Also Bobo: “We have some really interesting and fun ways to play around with that expectation [of whether Sam and Dean should live or die]. Not just in the final stretch but throughout the season. I think that question will be raised in a number of ways. And Sam and Dean will be struggling with that in a number of ways. I think we’re very conscious as writers that this is not the Game of Thrones type [of situation] – just shove everyone’s face in the mud kind of downer. It’s a balance of pain and uplift that we have to hit perfectly that feels fresh and doesn’t feel like something we’ve done before. And I think that we have some ideas that we’ve very excited about that will stick that landing for us.”

Whilst we have to remember that this is still just PR, it is good to hear from both Bobo and Dabb that ultimately they seem to understand what is important and how to end this show right. My interpretation from this is not that the show will end in death and misery, but in something hopeful and somewhat satisfying, even if it is different.

(My sources from this are from a GC where the text I think is copied from an article. If you know the article please send me the link)

Dabb also talked quite a bit about how the one thing that is set in stone and has been for at least a year already, is the very final scene of the show. They had this in mind before Season 14 was written. So everything else will be written around this final scene. (also means we need to pay closer attention in our S14 re-watches.)

Dabb and Bobo both think the ending will satisfy fans, or at least that fans will understand why the ending they chose makes sense. Dabb specifically said “What we are crafting is something that I hope will make sense as an emotional ending to these characters journey. I don’t think it’s something that’s going to make everybody happy, because that’s impossible. But I certainly hope that even the people who hoped it ended differently will understand why it ended that way.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHjhnG5w2gw

The one take away that REALLY interested me was this from Jensen:

“It took me a while to get there. When we were in the room and the idea came down the pipe and everybody kind of signed off on it, my reaction was more like “okay, okay”. I’d struggled with it for about a week or so and I realised I’m just too close to this character. To see anything with finality on it is just hard to digest. And I talked to a few people about it and got some clarity on it and I’ve tried to look at it from a different perspective and I now have come around to being “oh, this is a really good ending. This is satisfying.””

https://twitter.com/Bluestar861/status/1153080393106710528

So to sum up:

Dabb says that the ending they have gone with is one that makes sense emotionally in terms of character journey

Bobo says that the ending will honor the characters of Sam, Dean, Cas and Jack and WON’T be anything like GoT

Jensen says that he struggled with the ending at first, and had to have it explained to him to get clarity on why they are taking that route, after which, he understood and now thinks its a really good ending.

To top this, Jared spoke of the ending being the characters finding peace (whether alive or dead - but in a way that implied they would be alive)

Misha has confirmed he doesn’t know the ending, so he has simply been reiterating his old stance that Cas has to die and as much as we love him, we can disregard everything he says based on his own words from Jibcon “I make shit up.”

As a meta writer and someone who spends a lot of time picking apart the stories to find SENSE and MEANING in the CHARACTER JOURNEY’S and knowing that JENSEN ACKLES DIDN’T UNDERSTAND AT FIRST?! 

I AM VERY HAPPY ABOUT THIS NEWS.

Jensen not understanding imo means the ending will not be Sam and Dean dying together in a blaze of glory, it won’t be a separation in death either for any of the characters. My best guess? The brothers go their separate ways in the end. 

Hear me out. It fits okay. Let’s bring this back to the obvious question:

How do you end a show where death is not taken seriously?

Easy. You separate the characters in LIFE, bringing an end to their joint story. If SPN has always been a story about two brothers, saving people, hunting things, the family business (with the family growing over the past so many years), then the way you end that is not by killing them off, it’s by separating the core characters from the story itself, and from each other.

The reason I am speculating THIS ending is also because of one EXTREMELY EXCITING fact that also came from SDCC:

EILEEN IS RETURNING

https://twitter.com/Shoshannah7/status/1153077148883640321

Call me an optimist, but they aren’t going to bring back the one character who ticked all of Sam Winchester’s boxes for one episode as a ghost or a soul in heaven - they are gonna bring her back properly, and that can only mean one thing. SAILEEN. Sam getting a romantic endgame is PERFECT and it fits my theory. Eileen coming back opens up the potential for Sam to have a new hunting partner, or even better, a new MOL Legacy partner to reestablish the MOL as a society for learning and protecting the world from the Supernatural. A training center for hunters and supernatural scholars all over the world. TELL ME THIS ISN’T PERFECT FOR SAM I DARE YOU.

Obviously, the one caveat to this awesome opportunity for Sam, is no more hunting with Dean. Hence, end of Supernatural as we know it.

What does this mean for Dean? Well, If a certain angelic blue eyed beauty gets their true story potential - their emotionally satisfying character journey end - then that angelic blue eyed beauty will be hanging up their wings for good and slumming it with us mud monkeys permanently. 

A sacrifice? Yes, finality? Yes. Death? Hell no.

Further thoughts on this here:

https://twitter.com/Bluestar861/status/1153278119576592385

With a human Cas by his side, Dean can still do whatever he wants, travel the country, or take himself and his hot ex-angel “buddy” off to the beach, because the main focus of Dean’s character arc, his character journey over the course of so many seasons, has been to find peace with himself, as well as freeing himself from the burden of parenthood forced on him by his father and let Sam go.

Dean has never been comfortable being alone, and it wouldn’t make sense for him to end his journey alone either - at all - which is why Jensen’s dream ending that he keeps telling at cons about Dean swapping Baby for a motorbike also makes no bloody sense - but of course, as Jensen said, he didn’t really understand the ending presented at first did he? 

Jensen would struggle with the idea of Sam and Dean both choosing to separate in life, especially if that ending also had an ambiguous Destiel twist to it. Jensen has always made his views on the brothers relationship clear, he is a “together to the end” man, so it makes sense that he would need to have the toxic codependency and why it needs to break explained to him. 

I have no idea whether Destiel will be part of this so please don’t ask me, I happen to think at this point that it will be ambiguous and open to interpretation. But if the show ends with Dean and human Cas together mirrored against a happy Sam and Eileen I’ll be satisfied.

DISCLAIMER: This is a speculative fan theory thought up for fun. It is NOT serious show meta, it is literally inspired by PR from SDCC. I DO NOT HAVE A CRYSTAL BALL - IF I DID I WOULD BE BUYING LOTTERY TICKETS RIGHT NOW NOT TELLING YOU LOT HOW SPN IS GONNA END.

Of course, all my theories are inspired by in show character themes and emotional sub plots. I’m not pulling this shit out of thin air, I just... don’t want you all to start accusing me of leading you on or getting your hopes up if S15 starts and throws us a huge curve ball because I literally know nothing more than you lot and frankly the attacks on meta writers over the past few years have disgusted me and made me loose quite a bit of faith in the fandom collective brain cell - which I generally assume doesn’t exist in those that actually do attack meta writers.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Still, please try not to burn this hellsite to the ground based on SDCC PR. It’s supposed to be fun!

Peace.

[btsqualityy]

Amour Vincit Omnia / 13

Two Months Later / November 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Taehyung sighed dramatically as he threw himself down onto Akira’s bed.

“Stop being so fucking dramatic and get your ass off of my freshly washed laundry,” she scolded as she reached over and pushed his body over. “God, what the fuck have you been eating that’s made you this heavy?”

“It’s been you cooking for me,” Taehyung huffed as he moved off of her clothes, settling on the small sliver of her bed that wasn’t occupied by the clothes that she planned on packing. “And I also work out, so I’m gaining weight and muscle.”

“I don’t like it,” she said as she unzipped her suitcase, beginning to pick up pieces of clothing and folding them up.

“Yeah, right. I don’t hear you saying that when I pick you up and hold you against the wall as I fuck you.”

“Ok, could you not?” She laughed as she started packing her suitcase.

“No but really, why do you have to leave me?” He pouted, making Akira laugh and shake her head.

“I’m only going back to Michigan for the weekend to spend Thanksgiving with my family,” she reiterated. “It’ll fly by before you know it.”

“Ugh, I guess,” he huffed. “I’ll just stay here in the city, cuddling my pillow to sleep instead of your warm, supple body.”

“Why don’t you spend it with the boys?”

“They’re all going home to Korea to see their families since it’s the long weekend,” Taehyung explained and she looked up at him, not having known that particular piece of information.

“Oh, you really are going to be by yourself then,” she pouted, throwing down the shirt that she had been folding before crawling onto the bed. She crawled over to Taehyung, settling next to him and he automatically wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t wanna leave you by yourself baby.”

“It’s only four days Akira, I’ll honestly be fine,” he said as he rolled his eyes playfully and Akira poked his side. It was silent for a few seconds before Akira gasped in realization.

“Come with me,” she suggested as she looked up at him and he chuckled in disbelief.

“You serious?”

“Yeah, why not?” She shrugged. “We’ve been dating for three months now, you won’t have to be alone for the weekend and my mom has been bugging me about getting to meet you for weeks now anyways.”

“Meeting the parents huh?” He hummed and Akira almost thought he was about to turn her down until a wide grin spread across his lips. “Ok, I’ll come.”

“Good,” Akira smiled, leaning up and kissing him softly. 

“Hey,” Taehyung said after they pulled away from each other. “Why don’t we take my private plane there?”

“Wait, you have a private plane?”

“Yeah, the flights to Korea are much better when you own the plane,” he chuckled. 

“God, I forget how filthy rich you are sometimes,” she giggled as she shook her head. “I’ve never been on a private plane before though.”

“Mile high club?” He teased with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

“In your dreams Tae,” she laughed as she tapped his chin before moving away from him, making him pout as she went back over to continue packing her suitcase.

.....................

Akira could honestly get used to this. Her and Taehyung had driven to the airport together, gotten through security insanely fast, and were able to bypass the usual long line to board. Now, she was sitting next to Taehyung with a glass of champagne in her hands as they waited to be cleared for takeoff.

“Look at you,” Taehyung smirked as he looked over at her.

“What?” She chuckled.

“You look pretty comfortable,” he observed.

“I guess I could get used to having a pretty rich boyfriend,” she joked, making him laugh at her.

“Mr. Kim,” the flight attendant, who had introduced herself as Jaein when Akira and Taehyung boarded the plane, said as she stepped up to them. “We have been cleared for takeoff so please buckle your seat belts.”

“Ok, thank you,” Taehyung nodded and she walked away as Akira and Taehyung both strapped themselves in. A few minutes later, they both felt the plane taxi the runway before taking off, and it wasn’t long before the ‘fasten seat belts’ light switched off and Taehyung and Akira were free to move about the plane. Taehyung had decided to take this opportunity to get some work done, since being out of the office on such short notice meant that there were a few loose ends that he needed to tie up. 

“Has anybody ever told you that your glasses make you look really mature?” Akira wondered as she looked over at him, her chin sat in her palm.

“No, I don’t think so,” he chuckled before looking up from his laptop and over at her. 

“They look good on you,” she nodded as she looked him up and down. “Sexy.”

“What do you want?” He asked, noticing that look in her eyes. 

“Why don’t you meet me in the bathroom and find out?” She whispered and Taehyung’s eyes widened slightly.

“You serious?”

“Very,” she cooed, reaching over and letting her hand ghost over the print of his dick in his jeans. “Wait five minutes,” she said before getting up out of her chair and walking towards the back of the plane. He bit his lip, already feeling himself grow semi hard as he painfully waited out the five minutes like she had instructed him to. When the time was finally up, he got up and all but ran to the bathroom that was in the back of the back. When he opened the door and stepped inside, she was sitting pretty on the sink, her legs cross over each other as she smirked at him.

“Mile high club?” She said and Taehyung chuckled to himself as she threw his line back at him. He walked over to her and stood in front of her, setting his hands down on the sink next to her.

“Mm, is this a treat for me?” He wondered and Akira uncrossed her legs to allow him to stand closer to her. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She teased and Taehyung pouted.

“Don’t get me all worked up like that and then act innocent,” he whined. “It’s not fair.”

“You’re such a big baby.”

“Your big baby,” he corrected her, leaning forward and brushing his lips up against hers. “Gonna take care of me?”

“Mm, yeah,” she nodded, puckering her lips and kissing him softly. She then put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him backwards a little in order for her to have room to jump down off of the sink. Once she did, she maneuvered the two of them so that Taehyung was the one leaning against the sink while she sunk down onto her knees in front of him.

“Fuck, you’re this hard already?” She gasped after she had undone and pulled down his jeans and underwear, and was lightly stroking his dick with one of her hands.

“You know how weak I am for you,” he chuckled deeply. “Hell, I’m hard a majority of the time that I’m with you.”

“I turn you on that much?” She wondered seriously as she looked up at him.

“Absolutely. How could I not be?” He said as he reached down and caressed her cheek. “You’re my pretty girl.” Akira smiled and then responded by licking a stripe along the underside of his dick, making him groan deep in his throat as he watched her. Once she reached the head of his cock, she wasted no time in putting him in her mouth and swallowing as much of him as she could.

“Holy,” Taehyung mumbled, letting his head fall back behind him as Akira bobbed her head on him. 

“Mm, nooo,” Akira whined after she took her mouth off him, bringing both of her hands up and using them to stroke him firmly. “Keep your eyes on me baby.”

“Akira,” he groaned, looking down at her and they maintained eye contact as she jerked him off.

“I wanna see you Tae,” she purred, biting her lip. “Wanna see you when I make you come.”

“You wanna see me come or do you just want a steady look of me in these glasses?” He questioned and Akira responded by squeezing him in her hands, making him hunch over as a moan escaped his lips.

“Don’t be a smart ass.”

“Ok, I’m sorry,” he apologized and Akira smirked before taking him back into her mouth. She continued on like that, sucking him firmly and stroking what she couldn’t put in her mouth while he tried his best not to come too soon.

“Fuck baby,” He muttered, reaching out and burying his hands in her curls. “You’re gonna make me come.” She then took him out of her mouth again with a pop, and then started to jerk him off quickly.

“Come on baby,” she goaded, looking up at him through her lashes. “Come on my tongue.” She then opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, and the mere sight of it had Taehyung’s dick twitching in her hands. With just a few more strokes, he came on her tongue, with a few strands of cum falling onto her chin as well.

“God,” Taehyung sighed heavily as he watched her swallow his cum. He then took his thumb and gathered the cum that had fallen onto her chin and she happily opened her mouth. He smirked as he stuck the digit into her mouth, his breath getting stuck in throat as she sucked his thumb the same way that she had just sucked his dick.

“Are you taken care of now baby?” She wondered after he had taken his thumb out of her mouth.

“Definitely,” he laughed with a nod before pulling his underwear and pants back up. “Thank you baby,” he smiled as Akira stood up straight and set her hands on his sides.

“No need to thank me Tae. You should be thanking these glasses,” she giggled as she tapped the edge of the glasses that he still had on. “They turned me on so much that I just had to suck your dick.”

“Well, thank you glasses,” he said before leaning down and kissing her. She moved her hands up and set them on the sides of his neck, moaning into his mouth.

“Shouldn’t we be heading back to our seats now?” She murmured against his lips.

“What about you though? I kind of wanted to return the favor.”

“I’m fine baby,” she said. “I did that because I wanted to, not because I was expecting something in return.”

“Hm, alright. I will be returning the favor though eventually, and I don’t care if we’re at your mom’s house either.”

“Yeah, ok. You’re saying that now but wait until you meet her,” Akira laughed. “Come on,” she said as she reached down and grabbed his hand, pulling him and leading him out of the bathroom and back towards the front of the plane.

[allondonboy]

Medicine for the Soul (Ch 10)

Chapter 10 - Andante: dolce e più piano  (Ch 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9)

SO it's been a hot minute huh

thanks for all your support, especially those of you who've been following for a while. i'd love to hear what you think about this chapter.

thanks as always to anna @thisiismetrying for everything, including proofing

i think there are two more after this, and i'll do my best to not a) take fourteen / 14 months for the next update or b) kill the usb my master doc is on without an up-to-date backup oops

---

The side effect of becoming better friends with Vasquez is that they become even less concerned about calling Alex out during rehearsals than they had been before.

Unfortunately, they deserve it. Movements one and two of the concerto, they admit they’ve got down, but the third? That’s new in every kind of way. They’d never had time to work on it with their teacher. Jeremiah had never heard them massacre it. Moving on to arguably the happiest movement feels a lot like moving on from Jeremiah and they can almost feel the emotion-proof walls go up around their heart again.

As their rehearsal draws to a close, Alex takes a long drink of water and wipes their forehead with the back of their hand. Vasquez nods, satisfied, and closes the music.

“You definitely stand a good chance, Danvers,” they say. “If you nail the third movement, you’re almost certain to win.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Alex runs through what they just played and sure, there are a couple of bits that need work but nothing they can identify as truly problematic.

“It’s flat.”

Alex’s frown deepens and they swing their violin back up and start retuning. Vasquez sighs.

“Not that kind of flat. Add some bounce.”

“Some bounce,” Alex repeats slowly.

“Molto vivace, Danvers. Lively.”

“It is lively.”

“Look.” Vasquez shuts the piano and turns to face them. “The first two sound like you want us to know why you’re playing. The third is just notes. Boring, regular, notes. You need to bounce.”

“I don’t bounce,” Alex tries to reiterate, but Vasquez is standing and handing them the music and it comes out almost as a question.

“My advice? Learn to.”

“You’ll be playing to an audience. Take that tree.” She points to the tree outside the window. The branches are bare, covered in a light frost, and it looks almost sad by the road. “Play to it.”

“You want me to play to a tree.”

“Yes.” Their teacher meets their stubborn gaze with her own. “What, are you scared it’s going to judge you?”

Alex fights back a sneer at the thought of a tree scaring them and gets into position. “Pfft. Not at all.”

Okay, it’s harder than they thought to play to an inanimate object. They can feel their teacher’s eyes on them and flick a glare subconsciously towards her. She catches it and turns away. Alex’s shoulders still have pressure on them and they press them back until they’ve waited too long for this to be a normal getting-in-the-zone pause and they raise their bow.

“Hello, tree,” they mutter under their breath, and then they begin.

It’s weird, playing to a lump of wood. Their fingers find the familiar notes and patterns and their body starts to sway with the melody, rising and falling with the dynamics and drawing the story out of their body – not that they know what the story is, but the wind against the tree outside is oddly captivating and they find themselves trying to talk to the tree through the music as they go.

The last note pings through the room into nothingness. Their teacher claps slowly.

“Brava,” she says. Alex is disconnected from the world. They’re foggy – like they’re in the room but not properly. “That’s what you need to do every time.”

Well yeah, that would be easy if they knew what they’d done.

There’s a knock on the door and Alex swallows a groan to open it. Maggie is there, flannel pushed up to her elbows, nose red with cold even in the early summer warmth. She gives a cautious smile and Alex opens the door wider.

“Maggie, hey, come in,” they say. “Ignore the pyjamas.”

“I have seen them before, Danvers, and they’re still cute.” Maggie hesitates in the doorway and takes a deep breath. “Is now a good time to cash in that rain check on seeing the stars?”

Alex searches Maggie’s face for a second then responds with a quiet “sure.”

Maggie nods, once, and Alex gestures to their pants. “I’ll just change.”

“Don’t want to show the world your exquisite taste in sleepwear?” Lucy’s voice comes from behind her wardrobe door. “Hey, Sawyer.”

Maggie takes another step into the room and shuts the door. “The world can’t handle their sleepwear, Lane.”

“Is that why I found it on the floor the last time you stayed over?”

“What can I say, Alex makes anything and nothing look good.”

“Oh, Sawyer.”

At the note of glee in Lucy’s voice, Alex, blushing red to the tips of their ears, flips her off and shoves their feet into their nearest pair of boots. “Not every part of my life is for your enjoyment, Lucy.”

“Wrong,” sings Lucy with a wink at Maggie. Maggie laughs and Alex shrugs on their jacket.

“I hate you,” they inform Lucy, who beams at them.

“Wrong again,” she says, “you love me.”

“Sure, sure,” says Alex. They pick up Lucy by the waist and shuffle to the right, placing her by her bed and moving her out of the way of the drawer they open to retrieve a small flashlight. They nod at Maggie, hand hovering over the door handle, and stuff their keys into their pocket along with their phone and the flashlight. “Let’s go.”

Lucy tugs her shirt straight and follows Alex to the door as they leave. “Stay safe, kids. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“We won’t do anything you would do, either,” Maggie calls over her shoulder to Alex’s chortle.

--

They walk in silence, the crunch of their boots and the whistle of their breath the only sound in the night air. Occasionally, there’s the hint of hesitation from beside them that can only be Maggie trying to work out what to say. They don’t want to rush her however much they ache to know why so much anxiety is radiating off her.

Maggie’s hands shake as she pulls out another packets of mints.

“You get the best view from down here,” says Alex, sinking to the floor and laying down, arms folded across their torso. Maggie spends a moment looking down at them, face barely illuminated by the little moonlight, before joining them, a couple of inches apart, soft grass cushioning them both.

“I only know a few constellations,” says Maggie eventually. Alex can’t tell if that’s an invitation to expand, so they don’t.

“My grandfather died.”

Maggie’s voice cuts through the air and Alex simultaneously feels the familiar burn of grief and an unexpected shiver at Maggie’s blank voice.

“I’m sorry,” they say.

“It’s, whatever,” she says, shrugging, and Alex turns onto their side.

“It’s not whatever,” they say emphatically. Maggie doesn’t reply and Alex rolls back onto their back.

Maggie sighs. “I heard it from my cousin. I’ve not been invited to the funeral.”

“What?” Alex sits up. “You – why not?”

“When I told you that my parents were supportive of my coming out, I lied. When they found out I was a lesbian, my dad kicked me out and I had to live with an aunt for three years.”

“Maggie…”

Maggie holds up a hand. “It’s whatever, Danvers.”

“It’s not whatever,” says Alex again, “and we are going to talk about it, but not now. We don’t need to discuss that now. Okay?”

Maggie shrugs again. She plucks a handful of grass out of the ground and shreds it so it falls on her.

“My uncle’s kids and my aunt are the only family who still talk to me, and that’s how I found out, because they wanted to know if I needed somewhere to stay.”

“That’s… I’m sorry.” Alex winces at how lame it sounds.

“Tell me about them,” they say quietly once seconds of silence have stretched into minutes, and Maggie’s breath catches. “If you want to.”

“I…” Maggie takes a deep breath and Alex waits, but she doesn’t speak.

“There’s no pressure,” Alex reassures her gently. They deliberately place their hand between them and after a moment’s pause Maggie laces her fingers with theirs.

“Vovô taught me to play.” Maggie’s fingers tap absentmindedly on Alex’s. “I’d sit on his knee and he’d cover my hands with his and play. I have no idea how he managed to play with me in the way.”

The tapping ceases.

“He gave me my cavaquinho.” The choking of her voice makes her tongue stumble on the Portuguese word. “He taught me samba.”

Alex squeezes her fingers gently.

“He tried to teach my cousins, but the only one who had the patience was José and he preferred cooking, so Vovô and I would play for him and my grandmother while they cooked. It was our thing. It’s the only thing about my family I can remember being proud of.”

Alex watches her brow furrow and resists the urge to soothe it with their hand.

Maggie swallows, hard. “I don’t know what my parents told him about me. It wouldn’t surprise me if he died thinking I was an abomination. I don’t even know if he’d want me at the funeral.”

Unbidden, Alex’s mind jumps to the days surrounding Jeremiah’s funeral – the funeral itself hidden inside a bottle – and their heart burns in sympathy.

Their instinctive reaction is to reassure Maggie that he would want her there – but even as the thought flits through their mind they realise that they’d have hated that, the automatic platitude in the midst of an unnecessarily complicated situation.

Regardless, some of her living family do not want her there, and Alex knows the rekindled burn of familial distance and disgust all too well to suggest Maggie even contemplate putting herself in that position.

“I don’t know either,” Alex says, “but I know that you have an aunt that loves you enough to take you in, and cousins who love you enough to offer you somewhere to stay. And you’ve got me.” They give a crooked smile and catch Maggie’s tear-filled eyes. She gives a watery smile back. “You’ve got me and Lucy and Kara. We’re your family now.”

Alex knows they’ve said the right thing when the grip on their hand gets tighter and tighter and Maggie slowly curls into their chest and they hold her as she grieves not just the man who meant so much to her, but the love she lost with him.

---

Alex doesn’t know how to bring up the fact that Maggie lied to them. They can see she doesn’t either, with the way she worries her lip and her shoulders hunch whenever Alex reaches out to her.

It’s not until one afternoon when they open the door to head out to do the groceries and find Maggie with her hand raised to knock that they finally talk.

Maggie slips into their room silently. Alex closes the door and joins her on the bed, sitting cross-legged beside her but half an arm’s distance away.

“I wanted to tell you.” Maggie’s voice is gravelly, as though she hasn’t spoken in days.

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know, okay? Maybe I didn’t want to scare you. I wanted it to be better for you. I wanted to give you hope that your mom might come around.”

“Maggie - ”

“You never see the happy endings for people like us. They never give us a story where the lesbians live happily ever after with the slow dancing and the dogs and the arguments over how to load the dishwasher. And I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like for non-binary people.”

“It’s not a competition. No type of discrimination or oppression or whatever the fuck word you want to use trumps another.” Alex swivels so they’re completely facing Maggie, though she doesn’t move and continues staring at the carpet. “One person’s rough time doesn’t cancel out someone else’s.” 

Maggie shrugs.

“No, Maggie. You are your own person, first and foremost, with your own past and your own list of likes and dislikes and shoving that down for someone else’s sake? Not going to wash with me, especially if you’re so insistent that I work on that too.”

Maggie shrugs again and still doesn’t move to face Alex. “You don’t deserve to have to deal with my troubles on top of yours,” she says bluntly and Alex works their jaw.

“My choice, right?” they say, and then: “Tell me about it?” in the same gentle tone in which they’d asked her to tell me about them? up on the hill.

Maggie stays where she is, elbows on her knees, hair falling over her face as the last barrier between Alex and the onslaught of emotions fighting its way out of her. Her fingers dig into the pads of her thumbs as her hands settle into clenched fists. Alex takes one of them and rubs the tension out of it and with it, a trembling breath leaves Maggie.

“I had this friend when I was fourteen - Eliza Wilkie. We'd hang out in her parents' basement, watching horror flicks, and smoking cigarettes. She was the first girl that I knew that I liked in a way that was different. And I thought that she liked me, too. And so, on Valentine's Day, I put a card in her locker declaring my feelings and asking her to the dance. Well, she gave that card to her parents, and then they called my parents, and that's how I was outed.”

Alex can almost feel the puzzle pieces fall into place in their mind. “And that’s why you don’t like Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m not going to force you to celebrate something that brings up bad memories for you.”

Maggie shifts uncomfortably. “You wanted to celebrate and I stopped you. I want to make you happy.”

“I don’t want you to change who you are to accommodate me.” Alex’s words are hard and their eyes fierce. Maggie’s head snaps up to look at them for the first time since she arrived, so startled at the conviction in their voice. “You’ve had enough people demanding that of you, people who should be uplifting and supporting you. I’m not one of them, Maggie. You don’t have to be guarded with me, okay?”

Maggie breathes out, and then Alex is gathering her in their arms, cradling her head against their shoulder like she’s done with them so many times.

“I am here to help you heal,” they say softly. “On your own terms, as your own person.”

---

In the end, Maggie decides not to go to the funeral, but it doesn’t mean they haven’t talked about it together at length and it doesn’t mean there isn’t a small part of her that thinks she should be there.

More than once, Alex reminds her that they have the ability to buy her a last-minute ticket if she needs it. More than once, Maggie shakes her head and says that midterms have to be her priority.

Moving on, she calls it.

Alex privately calls it avoidance but isn’t going to argue when having her close means that they can look after her.

The closer it gets, the less Maggie talks about it, and the more Alex starts to dominate conversation again.

They can’t help it: the conversation swings around to them every time and the rambling begins again and their last paper went exceptionally badly, and they’re toying with their Stanford hoodie with not an unsubstantial amount of hatred flaring up at the pressure Eliza puts on them to study in a top programme in a top school, until they have to say something because the silence is getting to them and they can feel their head about to explode.

“For fuck’s sake!”

The sudden exclamation from Maggie jolts them and it becomes clear that she’s at the same stage. She presses the heels of her hands into her eyes and Alex leans over to rub her shoulder.

“It’s a bit of a double-edged sword, isn’t it?” Alex says. “The prestige of being here but then the pressure to live up to it all.”

Maggie still doesn’t speak but reaches up to hold Alex’s hand on her shoulder. Alex starts playing with her fingers.

“But, as so many people have been saying to me for years, if you don’t get the grades you want, you just pick yourself up and try - ”

“I’m on scholarship, Danvers.” It’s almost a laugh. Alex slams their mouth shut as they let the pieces fall into place.

“Oh.”

“I don’t get a second chance. I screw up and I give them an excuse to throw me out, and it’s back to waitressing for racist, sexist pigs, or – or busking on the streets, barely making ends meet. Not that I’m doing much better here.”

“Oh,” Alex says again, because that’s all they can think. Maggie gets off the bed and dusts herself off, heading for her desk again and looking for all the world like she’s about to cry.

“So, thanks for the pep talk, Danvers, but I really need to – oomph.”

Alex is behind her as her voice starts to crack and wraps their arms around her, drawing her head into their chest and cradling her pounding heart against their own as Maggie lets the exhaustion seep into their shirt.

“Working yourself to exhaustion isn’t going to help you in the long run,” Alex says into a mouthful of hair, suddenly discovering all the things buried in their brain that people have told them over the years to the same effect, and rubs Maggie’s back. “Seriously, it’s a crap place to be. Have at least a power nap, and then if you really want to, you can go back to work, yeah?”

Maggie nods into their chest.

“Want me to leave you to it?” Alex tries to pull back to look into Maggie’s face but she clings on and shakes her head. “Okay.”

They carefully spin them round so they can help Maggie slide under the blanket on her bed. They make sure she’s comfortable and press a quick kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll be back in a minute – binder,” they say softly, and Maggie hums, eyes already closing as she sinks further into the mattress. Alex comes back to her tiny snuffles, forehead finally free of frown lines, and quickly untangles Maggie’s legs from the blanket before sliding in next to her. They fire a quick text off to Lucy to let her know of their whereabouts, and within seconds, the reassuring weight of their girlfriend’s body in their arms is enough to send them off to sleep too.

---

Alex knows that midterms and finals turn them into some sort of monster. According to Lucy, however, Maggie somewhat dampens the effects due to the simple fact that they both spend equal amounts of time switching between comforting the other and panicking themselves.

By the time midterms are done, the competition is near and Alex realises they haven’t told Maggie. How do you casually bring up that you’re playing in a college-wide music competition when your girlfriend is going through a not-so-small crisis? They’re acutely aware that tact is something they’ve been lacking for a while, and in an attempt to focus more on Maggie, they decide to keep quiet on it for the time being.

What they don’t admit to themselves is that there’s a not insignificant part of them that worries she’ll think it’s stupid.

Keeping it quiet ends up being the worst thing they could do. Maggie gets increasingly tense every time Alex gives a new excuse for why they can’t hang out with her, and a rift between them starts to make itself known. That it comes after Alex called Maggie out for lying to them doesn’t help, and they catch themselves with it on the tip of their tongue multiple times before they finally take the plunge of letting it spill out, one afternoon when Maggie asks if they want to properly go out for dinner one weekend.

“Oh, I can’t on Saturday,” realises Alex, and it hits them that this is as good a time as any to tell Maggie. “I have an audition.”

“Oh?”

“The, uh, concerto competition?”

“Yeah?” Maggie’s quirked smile becomes a bigger grin. “That’s awesome!”

Alex’s breath escapes them in a relieved whoosh of air. “Yeah?”

“What did you think I’d think?” says Maggie with an air of mild bewilderment. Alex gives a one-armed shrug. Maggie leans up to kiss them and their cheeks warm.

“You want to come with?” they ask hesitantly. “Then I could still see you, even if we can’t go out.”

The hand Maggie reaches out to grasp Alex’s forearm with is gentle in contrast to how much she lights up, and she runs her thumb over the crease in their elbow. “I’d love to, Danvers. Thank you.”

---

Vasquez stands and stretches.

“Ready, Danvers?”

Alex stares at the door and wipes their free, sweaty palm down the front of their pants.

“No.”

They spin abruptly and come face-to-top-of-head with their girlfriend.

“Yes.”

“No,” says Alex again.

Maggie cups their cheek with her hand. They close their eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Maggie,” they whisper.

Neither of them see Lucy stride up behind Alex and smack them upside the head, sending their forehead into Maggie’s with a resounding thwack.

“Sorry, Sawyer. Danvers, don’t talk trash. Get that handsome head in the game right now and go dazzle some musicians.”

Before Alex can register what Lucy just said, she’s opening the door with one hand and shoving them through it with the other, gesturing Vasquez through and waving at Alex, who’s doing an excellent impression of a deer caught in the headlights as the door closes on them.

[txst-psf]

Druidry and Irish Polytheism 101

Hi all!

I know this time of isolation and global crisis is wildly boring and stressful, so hopefully a few informative posts will help to keep you busy and distracted! Remember to practice tons of self care, and keep a regular cleaning schedule to stay healthy. I love you all!

- Wren

See below the read more break for Druidry 101!

DISCLAIMER: this is my own personal understanding and experience with Druidry (based on research, but still filtered through my perspective), so, like with all research you do, take this with a grain of salt! I consider myself an Irish Polytheist Reconstructionist as well, so this article will be based on Irish Druidry in particular.

First off, let’s explore what “reconstructionism” is. Reconstructionism is looking to history and finding (to the best of our ability) the practices ancient practitioners used and recreating the tradition as if it had evolved naturally with time. Not all Pagans/Druids/witches are reconstructionists, and that’s perfectly valid! If you know me or have heard any of my workshops before, you know how much I love research, and that’s partly because of the reconstructionist approach I take to my practice. I like to know why I do the things I do in the way that I do them, as well as the most “authentic” way to practice and honor my deities (for lack of a better word! Other approaches to Paganism and witchcraft are valid as well, it all depends on the practitioner. No two paths are the same, and that’s part of the beauty of Paganism and magic!).

That being said, the history of Druidry is complicated and muddy, due to the stark lack of primary sources. A lot of the information we have is filtered through a prejudiced Roman or Christian perspective, so we have to sift through the resources we do have very carefully to try to piece together the true history of Druidry and ancient Celtic practices. It’s also enough content to warrant several other posts... So let me know if you’d like to hear more about it and how Druids fit into ancient society (and if you just can’t wait, a good start is researching the four cycles of Irish mythology)!

For now, I’ll focus on what my favorite author (Morgan Daimler) considers to be “commonly held beliefs” in Irish Reconstructionist Polytheism, “...polytheism, animism, belief in honoring spirits and ancestors, immortality of the soul, and shared cosmology.”

Polytheism and Animism

Polytheism is the belief in more than one deity, or a pantheon of deities, and animism is the belief that everything has a soul/spirit. Irish Reconstructionist Pagans believe in and/or worship Irish deities, otherworldly spirits, land spirits, and ancestral spirits, often through offerings, stories, prayers, and song. There are several landmarks in Ireland (wells, rivers, trees, boulders, mounds, etc.) that ancient Irish folks held to be sacred spaces with their own spirit and personalities.

Belief in Honoring Spirits and Ancestors

There’s a loose hierarchy of spirits, depending on who you ask. First, there are land spirits, the physical, topographical features I was describing earlier. They’re thought to be fairly sedentary and tied to their respective feature, rarely traveling far away from it. They have their own personalities, which can be malicious, especially if associated with a place that’s perceived to be dangerous, and usually have myths about their danger.

Next, there are sovereign spirits. These are like land spirits, but with a larger area associated with them, from a field to cities to sometimes entire counties in Ireland. They’re perceived as guardians of the land spirits in their area, and can travel a bit farther from their spot, but rarely do. They’re said to occasionally take the form of a person or animal to communicate with folks that can see them, and can also communicate through visions or dreams.

Higher up the hierarchy are the Fae, or faeries, Good Neighbors, Fair Folk, Other Crowd, daoine sidhe, aos sidhe... etc. According to another of my favorite authors, O hOgain: “In Irish lore the Fair Folk live in the land, on the sea, and in the air, being associated with the mounds, stone circles, watery locations including the sea and bogs, caverns, and strange swirls of wind, as well as specific trees, especially lone hawthorn trees.” Working with the Good Neighbors is generally an important aspect of Druidry. Honoring them can be incredibly rewarding if you can get on their good side and strike up a safe deal with them. They’ll teach you magic and healing, enhance artistic performance, and bring good luck and blessing. It’s important to note that a relationship with the Good Neighbors should be based on respect and friendship, not what you want from them. I could write several posts about the Good Neighbors, but for now, I’ll leave it at this: be very careful, and very respectful when dealing with the Fae. Like with any practice, be sure to do your research before jumping into it.

Fourth, we have ancestors! Since this tradition generally believes in the immortality of the soul, it’s only natural that we’d honor our ancestors. They’re probably one of the easiest spirits to commune with, since they’re closer to us and have an established interest in us and our well-being. A lot of folks have ancestor shrines and celebrate holidays with their ancestors when they come back to visit. It’s also important to note that our ancestors don’t have to be blood relatives! Some folks prefer to count family friends or chosen family members who have passed on as their ancestors, or even mythic heroes.

Immortality of the Soul

Some myths mention reincarnation into animals, like Lebor na hUidre and Tochmarc Etain. This is debated, but some believe that the mortal dead can join the Good Neighbors. Other than that, I truly have no idea where souls go between lives. It’s fairly debated, and from my understanding, not well known. There are several possibilities: Tech Duinn (the house of Donn), Tír Tairngire (Land of Promise), Tír fo Thuinn (Land under the Wave), Mag Mell (Plane of Delight), and Tír na nÓg (Land of Youth), to name a few. Basically, we have no clue where we’re gonna end up, but we do know that we’ll keep on goin’!

Shared Cosmology

First off, what is cosmology? Basically, it’s the understanding of the universe, how and why it works, and how it'll end. We have something close to an end of the world story, which is the Morrigan’s second prophecy in the Cath Maige Tuired, but we don’t have much of a creation story, as far as I know. We do have hints that some folks have tried to fill in the holes for, like Lebor Gabala Erenn, where the world is divided into 5 (five being the number that implied a sacred whole) sections, each representing important qualities to the ancient Celts.

According to druidry.org, North was for battle and conflict, represented by fire, the sword, and the eagle. East was for prosperity, represented by earth, riches and bees, and the salmon. South was for creativity and intuition, represented by water, music and poetry, and the sow. West was for intellect and remembrance, represented by air, learning and teaching, and the stag. The center was thought to complete the ritual space, and was for “mastery and rulership.” It was usually represented by a stone and the Mare of Sovereignty.

The ancient Irish invented the wheel of the year, and believed in two seasons, the light half of the year (Summer) and the dark half of the year (Winter). Summer began with Bealtaine/Beltane (pronounced kind of like bee-YELL-ten-uh in Irish), and Winter began with Samhain (pronounced s-OW-ehn).

They also believed in a threefold world, represented by the triskele/triskelion, three spirals connected at the center. The three spirals represented the three realms (the sea, the land, and the sky), and the middle, where they all meet, represents the center or the sacred fire.

The sea, and some bodies of water, were believed to be connected/portals to the Otherworld, as the various otherworlds were generally thought of as islands across the sea. The land was the physical world, inhabited by our Kindreds - other people. The sky was the realm of the Gods, or Shining Ones, from which they watch over the world. Offerings were often made in sacred fires, as the belief was that the smoke would carry the offering to the Gods.

The three realms are also represented as energy centers in the body. We call them the cauldron of the mind, of the heart, and of the belly. The cauldron of the mind holds our wisdom, and is upside down at birth. It’s turned upwards through learning and spirituality. The cauldron of the heart holds our emotions and artistry, and is sideways at birth. It’s turned upwards through artistic mastery and emotional maturity. The cauldron of the belly holds our health, and is upright in a healthy person, sideways in a sick person, and turned upside down at death.

I’d like to reiterate that this is by no means a complete guide to Druidry! I’m not an authority on the subject either, just a gal who reads a lot. Regardless, I hope this helps someone in their path!

- Wren

Resources:

Irish Paganism: Reconstructing Irish Polytheism by Morgan Daimler

https://druidry.org/druid-way/other-paths/druidry-dharma/two-seasons-three-worlds-four-treasures-five-directions-pillars

https://www.adf.org/articles/cosmology/worlds-kindreds.html

Chris Godwin, Senior Druid for Hearthstone Grove, ADF

[victorluvsalice]

Happy Birthday, Squid!

@gaydragonwizards I’m sorry that 2020 sucks and thus your birthday is likely not all you hoped it would be. I hope this little ficlet will help keep your mood light. It’s based off of our Seamstress AU poly thing, and features a certain little puppy once she’s all grown up. . .plus discussion of the other Absolute Units in the house. XD Enjoy!

                                                           -----

"Ooof!"

"Oh dear – got clobbered again by our favorite puppy, huh?"

Victor scowled up at Alice from where he was pinned on the floor, Holly happily drooling in his face. "I want to reiterate that, at the time I brought her home, I had no clue she was a Saint Bernard," he informed her. "Or that she'd regularly be so happy to see me." He reached up, rubbing Holly's neck before gently pushing on her nose. "Yes, hello, I love you too, now could you please get off me? Off, please. . ."

Fortunately, Holly was willing to be moved, stepping backward so Victor could at least sit up. "Even still – you're fortunate she hasn't given you a concussion yet," Alice said, coming over to offer him a hand.

"She's not – well, she is that big," Victor allowed, taking another look at the panting fur-covered face still so close to his own. "I must just have a very hard head." He accepted Alice's hand, sliding back to extract his legs before glancing back up at her. "After all, I've survived my fair share of hits from Ben too."

"So have I," Alice nodded. "He may look like a giant ball of fluff, but once he leaps into your lap, you quickly realize he's all muscle." She shook her head, helping haul Victor upright. "I'm still amazed any domestic cat can get that big. He rivals Cheshire for size, and he's always been the largest cat I know."

"Being imaginary probably helps there," Victor said, swiping at his legs in a futile attempt to shift some of the dog hair. "But yes, I didn't expect that tiny kitten to become a walking cloud of fur either. Why would anyone breed a cat that big?"

"I haven't a clue, unless it involves some terrifyingly huge mice." Alice frowned as he straightened up, tilting her head back. "All I know is that it's rather disheartening sometimes to realize both the cat and the dog might be taller than you if they stood on their hind legs."

Holly borked, tail wagging as she snuggled Alice's hand in search of pets. "Again, none of us deliberately picked huge pets," Victor reminded her. "It's just – how things ended up."

Alice cracked a smile, idly satisfying Holly's need for scritches. "Things just 'ending up' a certain way describes most of our lives together thus far."

Victor chuckled. "It does, doesn't it?" He reached out and pulled her close. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Oh, me either. I just wonder why we've made a habit of stumbling into caring for things bigger than ourselves."

"Mum? Papa?"

Victor and Alice turned back toward the door, where Gabriel was peeking in on them. "Mama says it's almost teatime," he reported, stepping inside. "We're having it in the garden today!"

"Oh, lovely – we'll go wash our hands and head right there," Alice told him, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "You do the same, all right?"

"Yes, Mum!" Gabriel promised, eyes bright. "Maybe we can play some croquet too?"

"I think we could." They watched as Gabriel hurried away again, then Alice turned back to Victor with a smile. "Speaking of which. . ."

"Heh – I have to give you that," Victor agreed, laughing softly. "I was nowhere near that tall at nine! I mean, granted, my family is a little weird when it comes to height, but still. I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up taller than me." He examined his skinny arm. "And broader. Another creature that I love who could crush me in an instant."

Alice tugged him down to kiss his cheek. "Well, fortunately for you, Gabriel knows better than the dog or the cat about the consequences of his actions. If he crushes you, it'll be deliberate."

"Oh, comforting."

"It's what I'm best at," Alice said, grinning cheekily. "Now let's get washed up for tea. Don't want to keep our better quarters waiting!"