#or saying they’re cancelling social stuff this week and then hanging out with other friends

[laughinglynx]

.

[venicebixch]

In-Between part 8 (final part)

angsty. enjoy!

My eyes flutter open to the light shining in through my window. I had about 3 seconds of peace before my mind went straight to Vinnie. I sit up, reaching for my phone.

No texts.

I sigh, getting a little more concerned. I anxiously check all my socials and see nothing would explain his tweet last night. I decide to text him again but don’t want to pry.

Y/n

good morning. are we still hanging out today?

I send the text and wait. 2 hours go by before I finally get a response.

Vinnie

i don’t think so. i had some shit come up. i’m sorry.

My chest burns reading his text. Why wouldn’t he respond to me last night? Even if something came up, why would be purposefully ignore me then cancel on me today with no other explanation except that?

Y/n

can you at least tell me if you’re okay?

Vinnie

i’m good

I get a little frustrated and my fingers start typing before I can stop them.

Y/n

why didn’t you respond last night? i was worried about you

Vinnie

i appreciate the concern but i just don’t wanna talk about it

Y/n

can you at least tell me what’s happening so i’m in the loop. did i do something?

Another hour goes by before he responds.

Vinnie

no you didn’t do anything. i honestly don’t want to right now. i’m trying to figure shit out

Y/n

what shit?

Vinnie

bruh drop it. please just stop, i’ll talk about it when i want to

“Why is he being a dick?” I say out loud to myself, shaking my head.

Y/n

why are you like this

I hesitate to send the message but my frustration gets the better of me.

Vinnie

like whatttt

Y/n

don’t act like you don’t know

Vinnie

i really dont

Y/n

you’re kinda being an asshole

Vinnie

lol. okay.

Y/n

you’re always so back and forth with me. yesterday you’re kissing me and having food fights and today you’re acting cold and distant and won’t even tell me what’s happening

Vinnie

idk. we already talked about this.

Y/n

what so i’m supposed to sit back and let you toy with my emotions and act bipolar toward me just bc you’re trying to “figure shit out”

Vinnie

you knew what this was when we started fucking around. don’t like it? don’t fuck with me. sorry.

“God, you’re a jerk Vinnie!” I yell at my phone as tears start to fill my eyes. I slam my phone down on the bed next to me and stand up, pacing back and forth again. I rub my hand across my head. “Why the fuck do I do this to myself? Why the fuck does he do this to me?”

—

“I don’t understand why he would act like that,” Emily says, taking a sip of her coffee.

I sigh and run my hands through my hair. “I don’t know either. It’s been a week since I’ve talked to him.”

“Have you reached out?” She asks.

“Yeah, three times. Nothing. I keep checking social media to see what the hell could be going on. And I asked Jett but he won’t talk to me, which is frustrating.”

“That’s just weird to me.”

“Right? Like what the hell is going on… And you know what? I hope the whole friend group doesn’t start acting weird toward me if stuff doesn’t work out with me and Vinnie. It’s not just him that I’m friends with, it’s everyone. But I know they’ll pick him over me,” I look down, fidgeting with the ring on my finger.

“If they do that, they’re not even worth tripping over,” she says.

“Yeah but besides you I literally have no other friends. And you’re moving away…” I say, my voice cracking at the last part of my sentence trying to keep myself from crying.

“You know I’ll always be around to talk to you, and I’ll visit you every chance I get,” she reaches her hand across the table, palm up.

I grab it and smile, nodding my head as tears overflow on to my cheek. I quickly wipe them away then go back to fidgeting with my ring. “I know. I’m just gonna miss you. I know it’s what’s best for you, though.”

“Maybe you should just go to his house and talk to him in person?”

I shake my head no. “I can’t do that, that’ll make me look crazy.”

“Y/n, you’re not crazy for expressing valid emotions. I think you’re still stuck in that mindset you had with Cory.”

I sigh, knowing she’s right. Cory is my ex and he was just awful, constantly gaslighting me and manipulating me. Always making me feel crazy. “I know I am. I still get so anxious whenever something goes wrong with a guy, which is ridiculous because it’s been over 2 years since I broke up with him.”

“That type of relationship takes a toll on you. Just… I don’t know. Try not to dwell on things too much, okay? Whatever happens, you’re going to be just fine,” she smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Em.”

—

It’s been a few days since my conversation with Emily. I’ve been avoiding too much social media because it’s not good for my mental health lately but I decided to take a few minutes before bed to scroll through tiktok to try and get my mind off of everything before I turn in for the night. I’ve felt a little better today but still feel like an anxious mess.

Suddenly a text pops across my screen making my heart skip a beat.

Emily

have you been on ig?

My heart starts racing.

Y/n

no why??

I immediately hop over and see nothing posted from Vinnie. Then I search up Kyla to see if it has to do with her.

I flick through her story until I reach the last picture. 12 hours ago. Her and Vinnie laying in bed together, lights off. Her head on his chest. He looks like he’s asleep.

I feel an overwhelming sense of anger, my adrenaline coursing through me like I took a shot of it straight to the heart. I start crying and sit up, staring at the picture in disbelief.

“Really?” I say out loud to myself. “REALLY? Fucking ridiculous. Fucking asshole. Ghost me for fucking DAYS then pop up with this?”

Emily

have you talked to vinnie?

I immediately call her, not wanting to text.

“Hello?” She answers.

“Emily I’m gonna lose my shit,” I say, standing up, pacing back and forth.

“Just try to calm down. He hasn’t said anything to you?”

“No! He hasn’t acknowledged me in 10 fucking days! Went from fucking me in the ass literally to fucking me in the ass metaphorically in less than 2 weeks with no explanation!”

She giggles on the other side of the phone. I said that being serious but can’t help but laugh with her briefly through my tears before I crouch on the ground with my hand over my face, letting the real hurt take over.

“I fucking hate myself, Em.”

“Please don’t say that. If he doesn’t see your worth, that’s his own fucking problem. You’re incredible and if he’s picking her stupid ass over you, he’s literally fucking stupid. I’m so sorry he’s done this.”

“I did this. It’s my fault for letting my guard down. He’s right, I knew what this was the whole time. Not his fault I fell in love with him.”

“No, he fucking knows how you feel about him and continued to play with your emotions to make his sorry ass feel better about getting cheated on.”

I take a moment to gather myself then stand back up, getting lightheaded for a second. I sit back down on the bed and sigh. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Go to his house and punch him. Write him a ‘fuck you’ letter and post it on your insta story for the world to see. Fuck one of his friends.”

I start giggling. “You’re giving me too many good ideas,” I sniffle.

“Seriously. Go crazy, act like a bitch. You’ve held it together a hell of a lot better than I would have. I’d be putting sugar in the gas tank of his precious little car right now if it was me. If it’s over, it’s over. May as well end it with a bang. Don’t just lay down and take it.”

“I can’t,” I murmur, wiping the tears from my face.

“I know… listen, I fucking hate to do this but I’m at work right now and we’re busy so I have to go. I’ll talk to you later when I get off or first thing tomorrow morning. Please just try to keep your head up. I know it’s easier said than done but please. I love you so much. Keep me posted.”

“Okay, I understand. I love you too.”

I hang up and sit there for a minute thinking about what I should do. I decide to text him again, not expecting any response.

Y/n

i saw Kyla’s story. seriously?

To my surprise he texts back immediately.

Vinnie

what story?

I furrow my brows, confused. Surely he knows what the hell I’m talking about. Unless it’s an old picture? I feel a small glimmer of hope at that possibility but why would she post an old picture?

Y/n

the one where you’re sleeping together?

A few minutes go by before he responds again.

Vinnie

i didn’t know she posted that, i haven’t been online much the last few days.

“I didn’t know she posted that,” I say in a mocking tone.

Y/n

okay? i guess i just don’t understand what’s happening

Vinnie

i’ve been meaning to talk to you i just didn’t have time yet

My stomach turns again, afraid to ask what he wanted to talk about.

Y/n

about what

Vinnie

me and kyla are back together as of last night

i’m sorry

i really hope you understand

My jaw drops as I read his messages with numbness, trying to process what this means. For him. For me. I’ve spent time preparing myself for this possibility but a large part of me has been in denial up until this very second, never believing he would actually go back to her.

Not only have I lost the guy I love, I’ve lost one of my best friends. Someone I found sanctuary in. We can’t be in each other’s lives anymore if they’re dating after all we’ve done. Which also means I’ve likely lost my entire friend group. If I can’t be around him, I can’t be around them.

The numbness quickly shifts to nausea and panic. Tears start rolling down my cheeks in waves. He’s actually picking her over me.

The panic shifts to anger and I find myself fighting the urge to drive to his house and make a scene in front of everyone and tell him how stupid he is. Tell him much I loved him before and how much I hate him now. I want to sabotage their relationship and make it known to the world what he’s done to me and what she’s done to him. Neither of them deserve happiness, right?

“Fuuuuck,” I groan out through my tears. I swear to god I’d rather be shot in the fucking chest than deal with the emotional pain this has brought me.

I pick my phone up again and start to type out one last text to him.

Y/n

i fucking hate you

My finger lingers over the send button but I sigh and delete it, starting over.

Y/n

fuck you

I delete that too.

Y/n

cant wait to hear about your heart getting broken by the bitch for a second time and watch all your pitiful sad ass tiktoks and tweets that come with it you fucking loser

I delete it again and start laughing through my tears, feeling hysterical at this point.

Y/n

hope you get what you deserve ❤️

I finally send it, breathing out a sigh of relief before another wave of sadness washes over me as I see that he reads it. Images of our last kiss and our last hug flicker through my mind - already missing him and feeling consumed by my longing for him that goes so deep I can feel it in my bones. My heart feels like it’s ripping to shreds with every beat, sending me into a deeper mess of emotions.

The dots that show he’s typing pop up. I panic and immediately go and block his number before he can respond. Then I go and block him on everything else.

I don’t want to hear anything he has to say. If he wants to go back to the bitch after what she did, he deserves whatever hell she brings him in the future.

I hope she cheats again. I hope he lays in bed at night and cries so hard his head hurts and his throat feels like it’s on fire. I hope he feels empty, desperate, and scared. I hope he finds himself thinking of me, hating himself for his decision to choose her. I hope he feels used. I hope she makes him feel all the terrible things he’s made me feel. And I hope more than anything that he knows he fucking deserves every bit of it the next time he’s at his absolute lowest.

I toss my phone across the bed and turn over, curling into a ball knowing I won’t be leaving this spot for days, maybe weeks. I close my eyes and give in to the darkest part of my mind, finally sinking into the void I’ve been fighting so hard to stay out of. A place comparable to hell, where I’m alone and hate myself and hate the world. Where I feel nothing but anxiety, anger, and resentment for everyone and everything. I don’t want to live anymore.

[hangovercurse]

Nerd Love

After years of working together, Pete still manages to break you.

Request: “Hi! Can I get a Pete imagine where you guys work on SNL together and you have few skits together and during one of them you can’t stop laughing”

Pete Davidson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 2237

“Live from New York, it’s Saturday night!” You hear Kate and the host of the week announce before Lorne motions that the cameras had cut for commercial break. You and Pete had a sketch together in exactly 12 minutes and 45 seconds, and you were trying to cool your nerves.

You loved your job, writing on SNL was something you had dreamed of since you were in middle school, and now it was your reality. Of course, it was hard, the hours were long and the work was demanding. But having Pete by your side made it all bearable.

You had met on your first day, getting hired one season after him. You two were deemed the “babies” of the cast because you were the youngest, so naturally you got paired up. A lot.

At first it bothered you that you only really ever worked with one person, but after your first few episodes you grew to love Pete. Your energies matched so well, and whenever you wrote together you easily built of each other.

After 6 years of working on the show together, you had become really close friends. You were with him through all of his hard times, and you were one of the few people he let visit him in rehab. In return, he stuck by your side through everything, even when the internet tried to cancel you for an interview that was taken completely out of context.

You couldn’t pinpoint when, but at some point, you had developed real feelings for him. Obviously, you’d never tell him, not wanting to mess up your amazing friendship. But they still flourished, especially when you would be up until 6 am writing sketches and goofing around in the writer’s room. Of course, the comments from fans didn’t help your feelings either. They loved you guys. Anytime you posted Pete on your social media, they were all over it.

But you guys had denied the dating rumors countless times since they’d started 5 years ago. Even though having to hear the words “we’re just friends” over and over killed you.

You were lost in thought when Pete came up behind you, hands grabbing your shoulders and shaking you slightly. “Ready bookworm?” He asked, moving to stand next to you.

“Only if you are, Mr. jock-man.” You laughed, rolling your eyes.

The sketch you and Pete had written was a young couple on a really fancy date to celebrate their 6-month anniversary. Your character was going on the date with Kyle Mooney’s character. Both of you were the stereotypical nerd couple with glasses, suspenders, and everything else. Pete was playing your waiter, who obviously did not give a shit about his job. He was the stereotypical jock character. Your character was super attracted to him and kept paying attention to him. He loved the attention and would do things like show you his (reaaaallllyyy) lame tattoos, tell you about sports, and everything that nerds don’t like. Kyle obviously didn’t like that and kept trying to get your attention in the weirdest of ways.

It was pretty funny in rehearsals, almost too funny. Seeing Pete act so out of character was hilarious to you and having to overdramatically flirt with him felt ridiculous. You barely made it through in rehearsals without laughing, so you had to hope you could do it on stage.

“Y/N, Pete, and Kyle. You’re up.” The stagehand told you, and you grabbed Kyle’s hand, walking to the stage.

The sketch started and you were doing okay. You and Kyle had your conversation about your anniversary and your favorite Star Wars movies. But then Pete walked onto the stage in his ridiculous waiter getup. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top and wrinkled, his black pants hanging low on his hips, and his apron only half tied. You bit your tongue to keep yourself together.

“Welcome to White Oyster, what do you want?” He said in a very bored voice. You acted interested, eyes raking up and down him. You felt ridiculous and had to swallow a laugh.

Kyle pushed his glasses up on his nose, “me and my girlfriend are here for our six-month anniversary, so we would like the couple’s special.” His nerd voice was incredible.

“Okay. Anything else?” Pete’s voice remained monotone.

You bit your lip, “do you recommend anything else?” You asked, trying to sound nerd-sexy.

You could see Pete struggling to contain a smile. “I mean, whatever. Food here is shitty anyways.”

Kyle’s mouth gaped, “can you not speak like that around my girlfriend, please?”

The sketch continued with you making flirty remarks towards Pete, him being very bored and unaware, and Kyle trying to direct your attention. After your second attempt at flirting with him, you could feel yourself breaking down.

“So, I was wondering. Do you have any tattoos?” You asked him, your elbow on the table, twirling a piece of your hair in your finger.

Pete nodded, pulling up his shirt to show the big MOM tattoo on his side that was drawn on earlier. You felt a giggle slip out, completely out of character.

You tried to cover it up and continue, “wow, you really must love your mom, huh?” Another chuckle leaving your mouth, “that’s kinda hot.”

Kyle looked at you with wide eyes, “Linda!” He screamed the name of your character

Pete shrugged, “Nah, I did it myself. It says WOW, like world of warcraft.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell out of your mouth, and one followed from Pete. This was a disaster. You tried to regain your composure, knowing Kyle was probably really frustrated right now. “I just think tattoos are so cool. You don’t have any, do you Darren?” You asked Kyle’s character, eyes narrowing at him. You heard a chuckle from Pete beside you and you bit your cheek.

Kyle faked looking flustered, “N-no. But I have all 7 of the Harry Potter books and 4 collectors wands.”

Pete nodded, “Oh cool, I have a Harry Potter tattoo.” He pulled up his arm to show his real tattoo.

Your eyes went wide, “Wow. That’s way cooler.” You batted your eyes up at Pete, making him break even more. Watching his face go red and his mouth lifting up with laughter made you squeeze your eyes to hide your laughter.

“But babe!” Kyle was starting to break now too. “You love my Harry Potter stuff!”

“It’s cool, I guess.”

The sketch continued with you and Pete laughing anytime you looked at each other, your energies feeding into one another. You both tried really hard to keep it together, but something about flirting with Pete made you so giddy inside that you couldn’t help it.

Eventually the scene ended and the lights went down. You knew the cameras probably caught an extra few seconds after the close of the sketch, meaning they caught you and Pete breaking down into fits of laughter.

You somehow made it offstage, faces red. “We’re so gonna get fired.” He said through giggles.

“I’m so sorry,” You started, trying to take breaths through your laughs. “I don’t know why I couldn’t hold it together.”

“You looked ridiculous.” Pete laughed, pointing at your glasses.

 After the show you made your way back to your dressing room, changing into your day clothes and getting ready to leave. You finally checked your phone, which had been off the duration of the show.

Your twitter feed was filled with clips of you and Pete laughing through the sketch.

They’re so cute together #goals

Love their friendship

Get you someone who looks at you like Pete looks at Y/N

Poor Kyle ☹

The way they can’t get through a skit because they’re too in love

And they say they aren’t dating…

Can’t believe the unprofessionalism

Pete and Y/N are dating… no one can convince me otherwise

The flirting!!! The looks!!!

I would like Pete and Y/N to get married and adopt me please

Your heart melted at all the comments, a sigh leaving your mouth. You watched the video and noticed the way he looked at you anytime you broke character, it was the same way you looked at him all the time.

You shook your head, convincing yourself you were imagining it. You couldn’t afford to think like that, it would ruin your friendship.

A knock at your door pulled you out of your thoughts, “Y/N, wanna go grab a drink with me?” It was Pete.

“You can come in.” You called, and he did so. “I don’t know, I was thinking I might just go home. I’m pretty tired.” You really just wanted to go home and sort through your feelings for the umpteenth time that month.

He nodded, watching as you tossed various items in your bag, “you were great tonight.”

You giggled, “Pete I barely made it through our sketch, it was a disaster.”

He rolled his eyes, walking over to where you were at your vanity. “I messed up too, but it was fine. No one noticed.”

You leaned into the mirror, fixing your makeup slightly. Pete was very close to you, watching you through said mirror. “Trust me, Petey. Everyone noticed.” You laughed, standing up straight again.

Your back was inches from his chest, and you could suddenly feel a different sort of tension in the air. But you didn’t make any move to shift away from him. He gave you a quizzical look through the mirror and you took out your phone, turning to him.

You took in a breath at the proximity. You weren’t close enough to kiss or anything, but his chest was only a few inches away from you. You shook away the thoughts you were having and opened your twitter, letting him scroll through the tweets. He chuckled and shook his head as he read them, eventually handing you your phone back.

“People really like us together.” He said, smiling.

You rolled your eyes, “They have for the past like, 6 years, Petey. We’re funny.” You smiled moving to turn back to grab your bag, but his hand grabbed your hip and made you stay facing him.

Your mind went blank at his touch, trying to figure out if this was real or if you were just really really tired. “That’s not what I meant.” He said, quieter.

You laughed, looking away from his eyes, not really knowing what to say. “I mean, people have always thought… stuff like that.” You mumbled, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Pete’s eyes were searching your face, taking in every detail. “Have you ever thought about, like, why people think we’re…” He trailed off, but you knew what he was implying.

You blushed, looking down at your toes. “I mean, I guess we’re together a lot and we get on well. People just like to make assumptions, I guess.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure it doesn’t help that I can never keep my eyes off of you, even when the cameras are rolling.” He said, a chuckle following.

You smiled, looking back up at him, your brain trying to process what he just said. After a few moments of silence, you spit out a “why are you bringing this up?” Your voice was soft, almost a whisper.

He sighed, hand moving from your hip and rubbing his face lightly. “I don’t know, I’ve just been thinking a lot.” You gave him a look that told him to continue. “I mean, I think it’s kind of obvious that I like you.”

Your mouth dropped, “obvious? Pete Davidson you have been far from obvious about your feelings.” You really thought you were dreaming, hearing those words from him was just impossible.

“Are you kidding me? How many sketches do I have to write just so I can flirt with you? Have you not picked up on the fact that literally every sketch I write for you to be in we’re playing some sort of couple?” He laughed, stepping towards you, and grabbing your hips again. “Dude, and I thought I was oblivious to this shit.”

“In my defense I’ve spent the past like 6 years trying to convince myself you didn’t feel the same way.” You said, a smile crossing your face.

Pete rolled his eyes, leaning closer to you, “now why would you wanna do that?” There was a playful tone in his voice, but you couldn’t help your serious answer.

“Because I didn’t wanna read the signs wrong and mess up our friendship.” You sighed.

Pete’s smile softened, “Y/N I literally want to kill you right now for making me wait this long.” You giggled, leaning closer to him. “But you’re cute so I guess I can let it slide.”

“If I kiss you will it make up for it?” You asked, batting your eyelashes.

Pete pretended to think about it, “hmmm, maybe. You should definitely give it a shot to see.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you. Your lips touched his and it was like everything in the universe suddenly aligned. His mouth moved against yours in soft, perfect motions. His hands pulled you closer into him, your bodies molding together like it was meant to be.

When you finally pulled away for breath, he pressed his forehead against yours, a wide grin on his face. “So, about those drinks?”

[sopranokirstin]

what happened with Mitch on Twitter?

ohhh boy. short answer? too many things happening at once which caused that he no longer felt happy getting in the app and understandably took a break. now, the long answer...

first, there was the whole thing with messer that happened few weeks ago, where “fans” on instagram grouped to mass-report the messer account because they were fed up with mitch only interacting with fans in his patreon accounts and not on his main. which, you know, is a whole can of entitlement that i don’t want to open right now, but obviously the fact that they got the messer account unlisted THREE TIMES should tell you right away that what they did was horrible, and naturally mitch took it very badly.

then the thing with trisha happened. so, in case you’ve been living under a rock, trisha paytas is this public figure whose popularity comes from doing all sorts of problematic shit to get clout in social media - including being racist, homophobic, transphobic, antisemitic... you name it, really. mitch and trisha have been friends for years, and mitch happened to tweet to trisha as a way to invite himself to her podcast after she talked about him on it. and so hell began with loads of people telling mitch he shouldn’t be friends with trisha for x and y reason, that him endorsing her content is basically propagating the things that she does, etc etc. it pretty much went from people showing undying support for mitch upon what happened with the messer account on instagram, to people @ ing him to ask him to apologize, and making memes of him like stans often do when they think hating on a celebrity is the height of comedy.

mitch continued to talk publicly about the messer thing but never once mentioned anything related to trisha, which led to more uproar. at this point, people were pretending that mitch didn’t exist in the group anymore, which... blegh. after that, he briefly touched upon this subject on the podcast which you can only have access to if you’re subscribed to his patreon, on it, he basically said that he clearly doesn’t endorse the problematic things trisha does, but that she’s his friend and he enjoys her content and therefore will continue to stick up to her. he also said that if people are really stressed over the things his done, that they’re free to unfollow and focus on healthier things (which he also said in a very honest, mature way with no bitterness under it). to close it off, he added that he’d be gone from twitter for a while as, understandably, he no longer had a way to have normal fan/creator interactions in that account - since everyone was just spamming him with stuff about trisha.

while i haven’t been... entirely objective on this retell of the situation, i feel like i have a lot of opinions about this that i don’t want to mix with what can be considered the “facts”. i think mitch’s response to the trisha thing is perfectly reasonable and just about what he needed to say. he’s not responsible for trisha so he doesn’t get to apologize on her account, and yk, he’s right: we are allowed to consume content that people can deem “problematic” because we enjoy it, not because we endorse it. hell, i do so myself and i know every person must have at least one interest that other people consider highly problematic. and imo that boils down to... content is created by humans, who are inherently problematic, in a society with power structures that also is a reflection of those problematic traits, so there’s nothing/no one completely “unproblematic”. what trisha does is pretty smart, actually: she gets clout by attracting hoards of people when she does/says problematic stuff, then keeps the ones who find it funny. the best way to fight that off is to sabotage her platforms, aka not play into her game and give her clout. so, that’s that for her.

like i said, mitch is not responsible for what she does, and so he doesn’t need to give a full out apology - that people wouldn’t take anyway because he already “fucked up” by their perceptions. moreover, people asking him to stop being friends with her is just... the definition of entitlement. those are decisions that only belong to him because it’s how he manages his private life, which is also the root of the problem of the cancellation of the messer account: it was done by fans who felt entitled to the content that mitch provided about his personal life to fans who paid for it, as a way to fund the messer project. because mitch is a musician, the only thing we can acquire from him is his art. everything else he chooses to share it’s only up to him. what boggles my mind is how people can understand that, yet they don’t see how trying to interfere with who mitch hangs out with is entitlement, too. while i’m sad that he will be away from the platform where he interacted with fans the most, i think it’s best for him and if i was on his situation i would’ve done the same thing.

[path-of-my-childhood]

Aaron Dessner Talks Taylor Swift’s New Album folklore

By: Sam Sodomsky for Pitchfork Date: July 24th 2020

Like millions of people across the world, Taylor Swift spent the past few months in isolation, stuck at home, changing plans, reflecting on the past, and imagining new connections. One of those new connections was with Aaron Dessner, the multi-instrumentalist and producer from the National.

On release day, he called us from his home in the Hudson Valley to speak about their entirely virtual but highly collaborative process, sounding just as surprised as anyone. “Nobody needs to tell Taylor Swift how to write a song - and I certainly didn’t,” he says with a laugh. “But it did feel like we were going toe-to-toe pushing each other.”

What is your personal relationship with Taylor Swift’s music? I’ve always admired her craftsmanship and talent. But 1989 was the first one I was really listening to as a fan. My brother [Bryce Dessner, guitarist in the National] and I were in Iceland with [performance artist] Ragnar Kjartansson, and he’s a total Swiftie. It was the summer of 1989, and we’d be hanging out listening to it loud. Ragnar is an art historian, so he was just contextualizing every moment. It was a lot of fun. That’s when we became bigger fans.

When did you actually meet her for the first time? We met her at Saturday Night Live in 2014 when Lena Dunham was hosting. And then she came to see us play last summer in Prospect Park during this crazy torrential downpour. She was there with Antoni [Porowski] from Queer Eye. She talked a lot with my brother and me. That’s when we realized how much of a fan she was, and how lovely and down to earth. I don’t know that many people who have that sort of success, so it’s a nice feeling to realize they’re cool. That left a good impression.

She got in touch again at the end of April. I got a text and it said, “Hey it’s Taylor. Would you ever be up for writing songs with me?” I said, “Wow. Of course.” It was a product of this time. Everything we had planned got cancelled. Everything she had planned got cancelled. It was a time when the ideas in the back of your head came to the front. That’s how it started.

You ended up with a credit on 11 of the 16 songs. How did the collaboration get going? At the very beginning of March, Justin Vernon and I had gone to Texas to work on the new Big Red Machine album. I had been living with my family in France as COVID was starting to spiral out of control in Europe. I said to my wife that maybe they should come back to the States with me because I was worried about getting separated. So we got tickets, and my kids and wife flew to [the family’s home in] Upstate New York and I flew to Texas. I was there for a week, and by the time I got back Upstate, the borders were being shut and we got stuck. I have the Long Pond studio here, so in a way it was lucky.

I hunkered down here and started to write a ton of music - more than I ever have. I thought maybe they were National or Big Red Machine ideas or maybe something totally different. Things were happening.

So when [Taylor] reached out, I had this large folder of ideas that were pretty well on their way. She was very clear that she didn’t want me to edit any of my ideas; she wanted to hear everything that was interesting to me at this moment, including really odd, experimental noise. So I made a folder of stuff, including some pretty out-there sketches. A few hours later, she sent “Cardigan,” fully written in a voice memo. That’s when I realized that this was unusual—just the focus and clarity of her ideas. It was pretty astonishing. Over the next couple months, this would just happen; all of a sudden, I’d get a voice memo. And then another. Eventually, it was so inspiring that I wrote more ideas that were specifically in response to what she was writing.

When did it occur to you that an album was forming? There were moments when we started to reflect on what we were doing. The first three songs we wrote were “Cardigan,” “Seven,” and “Peace.” “Cardigan” is probably the closest to a pop song on the record—it’s this epic narrative. And then “Seven” was this nostalgic, wistful, emotional folk song. And then when she wrote “Peace,” I realized she can do anything! She is so versatile. It’s just a harmonized bassline with a pulse and a drone, and she basically wrote a Joni Mitchell love song to it. She only did one vocal take, and that’s what’s on the record.

Were you communicating through the whole process? Yeah. We were pretty much in touch daily for three or four months by text and phone calls. Some of it was about production and restructuring things but a lot of it was just excitement. We both felt that this was some of the best work we have done. That was a strange and surreal thing to have happen, especially at this time.

At one point I was randomly doxxed by right-wing conspiracy theorists who misidentified me as an Antifa organizer in Ohio, long story, but it was in the middle of all this work. I didn’t want to stress her out so I didn’t tell her. But at some point she laughed and said, “So you’re a notorious anarchist?” And I’m like, “Yeah, I was gonna mention that."

How did the collaboration with Bon Iver on “Exile” come about? Taylor wrote that one with the singer-songwriter William Bowery. When Taylor sent it to me as a voice memo, she sang both the male and female parts - as much as she could fit in without losing her breath. We talked about who she was imagining joining her, and she loves Justin [Vernon]’s voice in Bon Iver and Big Red Machine. She was like, “Oh my god, I would die if he would do it. It would be so perfect.” I didn’t want to put pressure on Justin as his friend, so I said, “Well, it depends on if he’s inspired by the song but I know he thinks you’re rad.” Which he does.

So I sent him the song and he was really into it. He tweaked some parts and added parts as well - the bridge where he says, “Step right out.” The end too, and his choral parts. It was fun because Justin and I work on a lot of stuff together, so it was very easy and natural. At some point I felt like a superfan, hearing two of my favorite singers. This was all being done remotely, but it was one of those moments where your head hits the back of the wall and you’re like, “Fuck. Okay.”

There is some fan debate over William Bowery’s identity - I’m not familiar with him. I’m not either. I haven’t actually met him because of social distancing, which is kind of funny. I think he’s a friend.

Did you feel the pressure of working with an artist at Taylor Swift’s level? I tried hard not to think about the scope or scale of making a record that would be heard by millions and millions of people. I did a pretty good job of tuning that out. Music for me is an emotional necessity. It’s therapy. It’s what I live and breathe. All these songs are things I was working on already, and we both felt there was some serendipity in the fact that we ended up in this situation together. I just stayed focused on that, on making this as good as we can.

As the release got closer, I almost thought it wouldn’t happen. Or maybe I just told myself that! The National guys will tell you the same thing - I tend to work until the last possible minute. I didn’t really have a moment to be like, “Holy shit! People are gonna hear this.” We were joking about it last night. I said, “So this actually happened?” And she goes, “Yep!”

What was it like working under total secrecy? There was no outside influence at all. In fact, nobody knew, including her label, until hours before it was launched. For someone who’s been in this glaring spotlight for 15 years, it’s really liberating to have some privacy and work on her own terms. She deserves that. At times, if I wanted friends to play on the record, it was a little difficult because you can’t send a file with her vocals. But everyone was cool. At the end, I reached out to some wizards just to add bits, and that was nice. It was kind of fun: “What? Why can’t you tell me, Aaron?” Then they start guessing. Everyone made a game out of it.

Is there any music that was left on the cutting room floor? There are things I feel could still be songs. It does feel like an ongoing collaboration. Now Taylor is starting to help with other things. We’re bouncing other ideas off each other, whether it’s Big Red Machine or other things. There’s a community aspect. I think that’s how music should be.

[ayellowcurtain]

Is it fair to say that the druck fandom is more socially engaged and critical in their analysis to match the nature of the show, while wtfock fandom is much more light hearted and laid back? Less critically analytical of the show and uneasy about covering controversial topics so collectively gravitate to simplier matters or superficial matters in its place, which in turn helps to create an easier environment for anybody to participate in?

I don’t know, anon. In parts, yes. I wouldn’t say it’s completely fair for a couple of reasons: 

My very long, confusing explanation as to why under the cut. 

Like I said before, my problem with Druck comes almost completely from the fandom. It’s like Druck and their fandom are opposite things. 

It has very little to do with the actual show or how they’re engaging or critical with the conversations they’re trying to start. If I had to complain about Druck - the show, it would be how they drag their dramas for too long. How their hell weeks most of the time last a month instead. Even with my dislike for that part of the show, it doesn’t make me stop watching the show, stop understanding how good they are at telling their stories. 

With the fandom, it seems like everything it’s dragged too far. 

While Druck is trying to start and keep important conversations going, the fandom is like: there’s no room for conversation. They set their mind with their opinions and if you disagree, you’re out. There’s no room for mistakes, for healthy conversation, no space for growth. And this type of behavior isn’t new, it started back in the day, with that druck is the superior remake bullshit and now it’s everything else, and I feel like this “no room for conversation” began with that entitled-ness of the superior remake. 

Now with WTFock: I think a lot of this laid back and light-hearted-ness comes from two things: 

When WTFock started, the tumblr fandom was like...ten, fifteen people. When the tag had fifteen different people talking, it was a busy day for the fandom. So it felt like it was a small secret only a few people were watching so there was not much room for entitled-ness. We were all just chilling, enjoying the remake that seemed to be the smaller one. 

The second thing is: WTFock is chaotic. Not only the show that can be real messy at times but also the fandom. People freak the fuck out over the tiniest things, they make big deal out of nothing, they make memes left and right out of everything. 

During the second half of Robbe’s season and on, things got bigger and obviously, more serious conversations and drama started happening. And also WTFock started making bigger and worse mistakes, all leading up to the catastrophe that was season 4. But the fifteen people that were here from the start were people that would listen, that would be able to listen to each other, even if disagreeing about things and so when the fandom got bigger, the newbies understood that this was not a place of completely canceling others for having different opinions. 

But the WTFock fandom knows when the show fucks it up. Most of the time, it’s just not a matter of canceling whoever thinks differently than you. 

One example of many is: When the attack happened during Robbe’s season, there were people in shock as to why they would keep such a violent scene to traumatize part of their audience. There were also people that thought a scene like that one was needed for people to understand that not always you’ll be able to make out with your lover in a public space and be safe. That in the perfect world, that scene would have a happy ending, yes, but that it’s not everyone’s reality and it should be shown. 

Do you see the difference? There’s no complete right or completely wrong, both opinions are valid and were considered. Sure, people left after the attack because it was triggering to them and they’re not wrong, you shouldn’t watch something that only hurts you, but people stayed and neither of them erases the experience of the other. 

That was just an example, but the same happened when the sex scene was so graphic for some and normal for others. There is room for conversation and for respectful different opinions. 

And when things actually went too far (when people started overanalyzing the sex scenes, when people started finding excuses for K**o’s behavior) they were rightfully called out, and IF needed, put aside from the fandom. So I don’t think WTFock picks the easier conversations, no, but I do think they can understand different opinions, and, if needed, they’ll have difficult conversations and call people out on their bullshit. 

I’ll put it like this: 

There’s a friends’ hang out session, ok? It’s 15, maybe 20 people that are scheduling to sit down, relax and watch their show together, eat some snacks, drink some stuff. Whatever. 

If it’s WTFock, you might be on time, you’ll sit and relax and watch the show with your friends, some people might be five minutes late, and make noises, but it’s okay, we’re all chilling. Maybe stop from time to time to eat snacks and drink while having the harder conversations the show failed to explain completely and justify. It’s nice, maybe there are different opinions, but we’re all hearing each other and respecting if we disagree on shit. After the conversation, and after making stupid jokes about soggy food or something, we’ll all sit back down and continue with our WTFock date night. If you come late and you’re saying shit that’s disrespectful, and racist and shit, we’ll look at you and ask for you to leave and we’ll move on once you’re out. 

If it’s Druck, you might get there on time, but somehow, the others are already watching the show, and if you make such a thing as a single noise, you’ll get ugly stares left and right. You might find a place to sit down and watch quietly and you’ll start enjoying, loving the show even, but you’ll often hear people judging, analyzing, not only the show but you for being so disrespectful for making a sound. How rude of you for having loud sneakers that made the wood floor squeak. You’ll watch the show, and god it’s such a good show, but suddenly, someone stops it and you notice that it’s time for the snacks and drinks but nobody asks for you to join, so you sit aside and eat a few chips whenever you can reach the bowl. They’re talking about the show, and you have a completely different experience than their of it, but if you say it out loud, they’ll judge you and ask you to leave if you don’t agree, and while you’re walking away, you’ll hear people whispering rude comments about you while praising a show that’s a lot about respecting differences. 

[timetoresurface]

secrets (1) / BBH

Y/N x CEO BAEKHYUN

First part 7k words

Will be more

PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4 // PART 5

Hopping from one job to another, you really wanted to keep your position at Banking and Finance. If you would have to describe your perfect work environment, it definitely wouldn’t be at that stupid finance magazine that had the worst coffee machine in history. But hey, it did pay the bills, and that’s what everyone does, right? A perfect job doesn’t exist, right? A perfect life doesn’t exist, right? Only in cheap romantic comedies was life perfect, and you certainly weren’t in any. At least the last time you checked.

Of course, you have secrets. Everyone has secrets. It’s completely normal to have a few secrets. They’re not even that big, to begin with. For example, you haven’t told your roommate it was you who lost her favourite sweater. You could have sworn you had last seen it hanging at your office, but it wasn’t there anymore. So now she thinks she misplaced it herself, and you were in the clear of her wrath. You also hadn’t told your parents you didn’t get the promotion because you were never even considered for a promotion. You simply told your family you were just too young for such a big responsibility. Still, your company would favour you when another spot opened up. Sometimes you just like to hide a few details in your favour. You were sure you would get the next promotion if you just worked a bit harder and read less horoscopes during the day.

“Hello Y/N, would you like the usual?” Your favourite barista asked you when you entered your local coffee shop. Ever since you started working at your company, you would get the same order every morning. It didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Yes, please.” You quickly send him a grateful smile which made his ears turn a little red. Of course, you also liked the fact that said barista had a little crush on you. You’re flattered, to say the least, he was a handsome young man named Jungkook, but he was too young for you. He’s still in college for crying out loud. His mother still does his laundry. 

“Coming right up.” And of he went making you a cup of coffee with the right amount of soy milk. Just how you liked it.

“Thank you so much.” You took your drink from his hand, and your fingers brushed for just a second, but you felt nothing. He was handsome, indeed, and if you were younger, your heart would have sped up, but there was just nothing there. 

You walked the familiar route toward your office building. You worked for one of the top banking magazines, well they didn’t really call it a magazine, more like a weekly newspaper or something. You didn’t exactly know to be honest, but the most crucial part is that you have a job at a top company. You only lied about one or two things on your resume, it’s not like they check everything. It wasn’t even lying, you just added a couple of things you might not necessarily do every week, but sometimes plan on doing. You would most definitely like to invest, you just didn’t have the money or knowledge.

“Good morning, Miss Y/L/N.” The old security guy greeted you with a beaming smile. You have always been his favourite, and that’s only because you tell him to have a beautiful day from time to time. People who work in banking are most definitely not considered friendly or social or even human for that matter.

“Good morning, any wild plans for this weekend?” You asked him while you badged yourself in. 

“My grand daughter’s first ballet recital is this Saturday.” His timid smile told you everything you needed to know, he was nervous.

“How lovely, wish her luck.” You told him while giving him a thumbs-up, he gladly reciprocated. He’s kind of your best friend in this building. Sometimes you even snuck out of the office to drink a cup of coffee with the older security guard, and he would tell you all kind of stories about his family.

Your company was located on the top three floors of the building. The other levels were some other magazines you had never heard of in your life. You just needed to remember you worked for Banking and Finance, a well-respected weekly newspaper. You had only started working here a couple months ago, well almost a year now. Before that, you didn’t really do anything with money, except for spending it on useless stuff like new boots. Boots you could never wear at your office because there is a strict dress code. Men should wear suits, and women should wear knee-length skirts and a perfectly fitted blazer in neutral colours like black, blue, grey,… you know: boring clothes.

“Y/N can you please look through this research about the acceleration…” your co-worker Mina started the moment you entered the workspace. She kept on going about acceleration, and you had no clue what the hell she was talking about. You have worked here for almost a year, and you still didn’t have a clue about banking and their accessions and analysis. You quickly learned to simply nod, remember a word and browse google with said word. You weren’t caught yet, so you must be doing something right.

“… also, can you please get me some coffee?” She ended her monologue while throwing some papers on your desk. You silently nodded, and she finally left you so you could take off your coat. This was a new record, you thought, you were in five minutes early, and you still couldn’t take a breather. The moment you entered was the moment hell began. With a soft sigh, you made your way over to the kitchen area to make you co-worker some coffee she could have easily made herself. News quickly spread that you were making coffee, so everyone wanted a cup. Lazy bastards. The coffee ain't even good.

“Y/N can you please come in?” Your floor manager asked you when you gave everyone their cups of coffee. With a quick nod, you made your way over to the manager’s own desk. You were all seated in cubicles, it was to monitor and motivate or whatever, while your manager requested a private office with a glass door, which he never really closed. What’s the point of a closed office if you never close the god damn door?

“How can I help you today, sir?” You asked him while he offered you a seat. He tried not to glance at your bare legs while you seated yourself and your skirt rode up a bit. It wasn’t exactly proven, but you thought he only hired you because of your looks. Not to say you thought of yourself to be the prettiest girl out there, but you were most certainly the only women under thirty that had applied for this job. It most definitely worked in your favour.

“I want to offer you a chance to grow.” He quickly started, trying to keep his eyes on your face and not your white blouse that might have been a little see-through if you looked really hard. Which he tried not to do.

“One of our top advertisers is hosting an event this weekend, and I would like for you to be there. To represent our brand and gain a few connections.” He began, and you were delighted he didn’t use complicated banking terms you had no clue about. This you understood.

“This weekend?” You asked him uncertainly. You had made plans with your roommate to binge desperate housewives while stuffing yourself with bad food you were not allowed to eat during the week. Or at least you told your roommate you never went to McDonald’s during the week. She didn’t need to know you liked your chicken nuggets every Wednesday. It is no crime to hide your bad habits from the people you loved. 

“Yes, this Saturday afternoon. I booked you a flight for tonight, so you have maximal prepare time. Your flight back is Sunday morning. I hope you didn’t make any important plans this weekend?” He asked you suspiciously, as if he knew you had no intentions of doing anything this weekend. Well, not important plans, but they were fun plans, and you had to cancel them.

“No, not at all sir. I’ll be there at the event.” You fake smiled up at him before shaking his hand in fake enthusiasm. You really wanted to earn more money and get a promotion, but you really hated this job.

“That’s great Y/N.” He shouted after you when you exited his office, his gaze lingering on your ass. Pencil skirts were only designed to please men, and make women feel uncomfortable. 

“What was that all about?” Your colleague next to you whispered. His name is Oh Sehun, and he might be as clueless as you are. He was really hired because of his good looks, and he knew it. He knew he was handsome, and he tried to get everything out of his good looks. He got a promotion after only three months at the company without actually doing any work. 

“I’m going to an advertisers event this weekend.” You whispered back, barely hiding your proudness of the fact that you had been chosen.

“Oh, yeah I was wondering who he was going to ask to replace me. Good luck Y/N.” Sehun told you while returning his focus on his screen where he was playing some dumb cards game. It did hurt your pride that you hadn’t been chosen to do this particular task, but you could prove to  be better than Sehun. You could prove to your manager that you were ready for more and that you’re more competent than Sehun. At least you tried to remember some of the banking vocabulary unlike Sehun.

“Thanks.” You ended the conversation that had already ended for him. Looking over your desk, you noticed the research about the acceleration or something Mina had talked about only an hour ago, and you sighed. A deep and heavy sigh of someone who was lost in the woods and couldn’t find the highway even though they heard cars passing. That’s how it feels to be stuck at something you understand shit about. That’s life, my dad would say, just make sure that you can pay the bills. He should be a life coach, he’s very inspiring. Really.

—

“What should I wear? What kind of event is it going to be? Garden party? Cocktail party? High-class reception where everyone wears black party? Why didn’t they tell me?” You were sat in the middle of your room with all your clothes thrown around. Your best friend Jennie stood in your doorway with a shocked expression on her face. How could she be when she found you in this position every other weekend. 

“Calm down, we can do this.” She took your arm and made you stand up. You were both standing there and staring at the mess you made in under five minutes. Never underestimate the power of a woman under stress. They can fly high and crash all at once. It’s beautiful.

“Why didn’t they tell me?” You screamed in despair while covering your face with your shaking hands. You wanted to drop down on your knees, but Jennie held you in place.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so melodramatic. Just pack one of your work suits, a stylish black dress and maybe the cute new green skirt with white flowers if there is a garden party involved.” How did she always sound so logical? Why was she so put together? Why weren’t you like her?

“Don’t look at me like that, go and find the clothes I told you about and I will look for some shoes.” You quickly started looking for the clothes she told you about while she did her thing, organizing while in search of something. She’s a teacher, so she’s used to dramatic kids who can’t find their favourite pencil or something, so you were like a calm walk in the park compared to these kids. Well, maybe not a quiet walk, maybe more of a rushed morning jog through the park. Still better than fifteen screaming kids.

“I have a dark green suit. My perfect black dress that’s not work-appropriate but could be advertisers event approved. And I’ve got a blue summer dress if it is an outside event with fancy cocktails.” You proudly checked your mental list. This wasn’t so difficult after all.

“You also have a comfortable pyjama with you and enough underwear to be gone for two weeks. You’re good to go.” Jennie finished off your list while closing your black carry-on. 

“Are you going to get changed into something more comfortable or are you supposed to wear a pencil skirt to travel?” She asked you eying you creased skirt and half open white blouse showing of your pink bra.

“I’m just going to change into some jeans and shirt, I’m not working while I’m on the plane, right? Work only starts tomorrow at the event.” You told her while looking for your favourite pair of jeans. You could have sworn you just saw them somewhere in here.

“Get changed. I’ll drive you to the airport to make sure you’re there on time. I don’t think I could stand you without a job again.” She jokingly replied before leaving your room.

“I did do all the laundry back then.” You yelled at her.

“Yes, and my white underwear is still pink because of it.” She yelled back at you, and the both of you laughed at the memory. Why isn’t there a class to be a good housewife? You know, some cleaning and cooking classes put together? 

“I told you before, the machine did that, I didn’t do anything.” You said while walking through the apartment looking for your pants.

“Keep telling that to yourself.” She giggled while pouring a glass of water.

“I will.” 

“Please put on some pants. I don’t need to see these extremely white legs of yours.” She commanded when she saw you shamelessly running through your shared place in pink underwear. 

“I don’t know where they are.” You sighed defeated while plopping down on the orange sofa that took up whole your shared living space.

“They’re on your bed Y/N.” She sighed, and you quickly went looking for your best pair trying to avoid the stare Jennie gave you. Like you were some lost child who was in desperate need of some guidance. 

“Are you ready? Do you have everything with you?” She asked you after she drove you to the airport. You nodded your head, trying to hide the sick feeling in your stomach.

“You’re going to be fine.” She finally said while giving you a hug. 

“Of course, I’ll be fine, I’m Y/N, a fierce young woman.”

“That’s the spirit.” And with these words, she left you in the large departures hall of the airport. A place you hated. Let’s hope this is not going to be like the first episode of lost? Or worse, the Grey’s Anatomy crash in the woods episode. Lexie was your favourite. Rest in peace.

—

“Everything has been taken care of. Please enjoy your stay.” The receptionist handed you a card with a number on it, and you returned her smile. 

“Thank you so much for your assistance.” You grabbed your things and made your way over to the elevator.

“Oh, miss Y/L/N, there will be a car ready at eleven AM to get you to your destination. Please be ready.” You simply nodded your head and pressed the elevator button. Room 303. That must mean you’re on the third floor. A ping sound awakened your internal struggles to stay awake after the short flight you just had. You were never really a big fan of flying, and most definitely not alone, but you’re still alive. That’s good enough for now. 

“Hold the elevator, please.” A young man shouted before throwing his whole body into the small space. He hurriedly pressed a random button and regained his posture. His jacked had fallen off, but he didn’t do anything to fix it which weirdly irritated you. Usually you weren’t the nitpicking type.

“I’m sorry about that. I’m in a bit of a rush.” He finally noticed his blazer to be in a compromising position and fixed his appearance. He glanced into the mirror and was carelessly checking himself out. He did look good, but boy did he know it. His hands run through his hair as if it didn’t already look perfect.

“That’s okay, glad you made it safely into the elevator without losing a piece of yourself.” You deadpanned. 

“That would’ve been a disaster.” He answered you with a big smile that would make most ladies faint, but somehow only irritated you. Luckily for the both of you this is a short elevator ride, and not a three hour car ride. He wouldn’t have survived. 

“Slightly inconvenient as I’m in a rush to get to bed.” The elevator made another noise signalling your floor, and you gladly stepped out of the small space to get away from the self-centred man. 

“I’m Baekhyun by the way.” You simply stared at him before the elevator doors close themselves. Why would he even introduce himself to you? You would hopefully never see him again, so an introduction seemed a bit unnecessary to you. Never mind the guy, there are more important things to worry about.

There had been a folder with information about the event and the advertiser. Apparently, it was an essential online banking thing, and the event would be something like a walking dinner, but at brunch time. So a walking brunch. In other words, the perfect occasion to wear your flowy blue dress as it didn’t seem too uptight of an event. 

The phone in your hotel room rang, signalling your car would be ready in five. You quickly put on your shoes and grabbed your bag, making your way downstairs. You weren’t going to be late on your first solo event, you were going to be politely on time, so your company would look good.

“Hi there, going anywhere?” You turned around and looked questionably at the stranger. It was the man from last night. The man who introduced himself without reason. The man who knew how good-looking he was. You couldn’t disagree with him at this moment. He wore a light blue suit that would look ridiculous on anyone else, but somehow he made it work. He brushed the blazer behind is back and put his hand inside of his pockets. Underneath his fitted blazer was an even more fitted white shirt that left little to the imagination. You had to gather all your self-respect to not stare.

“I just like standing at the entrance of a hotel without having a reason whatsoever.” You told him while looking away from him. If someone saw the two of you now, they would think you matched outfits to go to a wedding. They couldn’t be more wrong, but you were annoyed by his perfectness. Why did he have to look so good? And why didn’t he leave you alone?

“What a coincidence, me too.” He said while he took place next to you. Not a word was exchanged, but there was something else. Awkwardness. 

“So, where are you going?” He tried to ask you again.

“Something for work. I don’t exactly know where, but I know that a car was arranged to take me to my destination. “

“I’m not lying, but I’m in the exact same situation.” He tried to connect with your eyes, but you simply kept staring down at your dress. Maybe it might be a bit too short for a work event. You were quickly interrupted when a car stopped right before you and Baekhyun. The driver quickly got out and started to bow before us. Not a simple greeting bow, but an aggressive ‘I” m sorry” bow.

“Miss Y/L/N and mister Byun. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but is there a possibility if you two could share this ride? It’s the same destination, and we’re understaffed at the moment.” The driver seemed hesitant and scared of our reaction, and you immediately felt terrible for the guy.

“If it is the same final destination, I don’t see a problem with it.” Baekhyun told the guy right before opening the door. He looked over at you and motioned for you to get in. 

“I can open my own doors.” You told him while entering the luxurious car. You hadn’t expected this from your company who always seems to be in saving mode. They could better spend the money from this car into a better coffee machine. 

“A simple thank you would have been enough.” He whispered under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear. He quickly closed your door and made his way over to the other side of the car. You couldn’t help yourself to look at him. Even when he was simply sat in a vehicle while tapping on his phone, he had this presence that couldn’t be ignored, but you tried to.

The drive was short and comfortable, but your nerves kept you wide awake. This would be your first event, and not only your first it’s also your first solo event for a company you knew shit about. How do you represent a company when you don’t know what they stand for?

“Are you nervous?” The strange man next to you asked. There was genuine concern in his eyes, but you looked away. If he was going to the same event probably meant he worked in the sector. If he worked in the same industry, he would probably be a competitor. If he was a competitor, it would be best to hide all your weaknesses, or he could take down your company in a matter of seconds. Or worse, he could make you jobless again, and you weren’t ready for that. 

“I’m excellent, but thanks for asking.” You kept your gaze focused forward, and your hands fidgeted with your short dress.

“You look great by the way. You’ll do great.” You felt his eyes burning your skin, but you tried to ignore the tension he had created with his statement.

“Thank you, but I will be great because of what I can, and not because of my looks.” 

“I didn’t mean to…-“ but he was interrupted by the driver opening your door. You quickly made your way out of the car and tried to contain your surprise. The event was huge, and by huge, you mean it to be very claustrophobic. There were people everywhere in all shapes and sizes mingling and giggling. 

“You might want to close your mouth.” Baekhyun told you while standing casually next to you. He didn’t seem to care about his surroundings. He’s probably used to these kinds of events. 

“Let’s get our name badges.” He took hostage of your hand and guided you toward the entrance of the building. It was a modern building with glass walls and plants everywhere. Some people were smoking outside with a mimosa in hand. Others were inside enjoying the view while nipping on a fancy looking sandwich. 

The event was too grand for you, and the worst part was that you felt underdressed. You have never been the type to underdress, but you’ve gotten so used to your boring office life, you made a mistake. Men were dressed in colourless suits, and women were dressed in fancy dresses in neutral colours. You checked your outfit in the mirror and cringed at yourself. You weren’t covered in a neutral colour, no you were clothed in a light blue dress that was on the shorter side with a girly floral pattern. The only design you spotted at the event were polka dots. 

“You can go first.” Baekhyun whispered into your ear right before shoving you toward the table with badges. You tried to find your name, but couldn’t.

“Can I help you miss?” A nice lady dressed in a black pantsuit asked you. She glanced at you, and you knew what she was thinking. She doesn’t belong here, let’s help her.

“Are you here with mister Byun?” She eyed you up and down, and her eyes suddenly turned venomous. 

“No, I’m with Banking and Finance. I’m replacing Oh Sehun for this event.” You ignored her glare.

“What’s your name?” You could almost hear the annoyance laced in her tone, but she really tried to hide it. What had you done wrong? 

“Y/L/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” You told here with a bright smile she ignored. 

“I see.” Was all that she said.

“Banking and Finance?” Baekhyun asked you while the woman was looking for your badge. 

“Yes.” You answered his question.

“You don’t care where I work?” He turned his back toward the table with badges so he could look at you.

“I would like to see your badge first, so I know you’re not lying when I ask you.” You simply told him, and a chuckle escaped him. He looked like someone who got everything handed to him. He looked like trouble, and you couldn’t afford trouble.

“I don’t need a badge at these events. They all know who I am.” He stated with a smirk.

“Well, I don’t care then.” His mouth twitched, and you were pretty sure he was fighting a smile.

“Here you are.” The woman gave you your badge, and you thankfully accepted. You turned back to Baekhyun.

“It was nice to meet you, mister Byun.” You said, hoping he would understand that you wanted to leave.

“Pleasure was all mine miss Y/L/N.” He said before grabbing your hand and giving it a quick peck. You thanked him one final time and made your way inside the event. 

People looked your way as if they knew it was your first time. Some people whispered to each other with a fake smile plastered on their faces. You tried to ignore the unwanted attention, but it was hard. Maybe a good mimosa would help you. 

“So, who are you?” A man in a dark green suit asked you when you returned from the mimosa stand. He was tall, incredibly tall. The man was perfection in neutral hues; his hair and eyes were the colour of dark roasted beans, but his skin was all tanned. He was skinny, but the way his clothes hung gave away the muscle beneath, and in his wake were heads turning to watch him go. You quickly glanced at his badge and noticed the name of the investor. He must be important.

“I’m Y/N from Banking and Finance.” He seemed a little impressed.

“I’m Chanyeol, and this is my event.” He held out his hand, and you gladly shook his hand. 

“You don’t look like someone who works in finance.” He simply stated, eying you suspiciously as if you had crashed his party.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m a real employee of Banking and Finance.” You tried to lighten the mood, but this was the second person judging you from your looks.

“You must definitely do not disappoint.” You grew slightly uncomfortable, but as it was his party, you simply smiled. 

“The event most definitely doesn’t disappoint.” You tried to change the subject.

“Thank you. I’ve recently discovered the true meaning of brunch, and I might say I’m obsessed with it at the moment.” He told you truthfully before taking a big sip from his mimosa.

“How come?” You said after nipping from your drink. You weren’t here to get drunk even though you needed the liquid luck.

“My mum does brunches, I thought it was something older people did, but I was wrong.”

“You couldn’t have been more wrong. The secret to a happy life is a good brunch paired with a delicious mimosa.”

“Ah, I like you already, but I have to leave. There is someone aggressively signalling me to get to the kitchen. I apologize.”

“No problem. If there’s an emergency in the kitchen, it is more important than anything and anyone in this room.”

“I’ll catch you later.”

Chanyeol had been the opening for many men to strike up a conversation with you. They never tried to talk to you about anything finance related. Some didn’t even ask you where you worked. Some couldn’t even keep their gaze on your face for longer than a minute, and you grew more uncomfortable as the hours passed. 

“If you could, please excuse me.” You told the people around you. They simply nodded and kept their conversation going about something sports-related. 

You quickly made your way over to an empty room. You were done with these people pretending to enjoy each others company. You were just fed up with people commenting you didn’t look like someone who could work in finance. You wanted to go home, but you promised your boss you would represent your company well. You couldn’t leave before dessert was eaten.

“You can do this Y/N. Just ignore these bastards.” You repeated to yourself in the dark room like a mantra.

“Everything okay?” Baekhyun asked you, standing awkwardly in the doorframe. You quickly tried to compose yourself, but nearly knocked something down. He came to your rescue and grabbed the expensive-looking clock before it hit the ground. 

“I’m fine, thank you.” You grabbed the clock from his hands and put it back in place before returning to the party. You heard him say something, but ignored it and kept on walking. Chanyeol grabbed your attention and mentioned you to come over to him. He seemed to be speaking to some other young men in expensive suits. 

“Miss Y/L/N, let me introduce you to some important people. Everyone this is Y/N from Banking and Finance…” and that’s how he introduced you to some influential people in the business. They asked you some questions about your function, but only out of politeness as they didn’t care about what you did. They conversed with each other leaving you out of the conversation unless it was something about the event. 

You couldn’t have been happier the moment dessert came, and some people already started to leave. Chanyeol tied to convince you to stay longer, but you lied to him and told him you had to get straight to the airport as you were already late. He personally helped you book a car that would take you to your hotel in no time. 

You needed a drink. You needed a massive drink that could calm your nerves. Luckily for you, your company had booked you a room in a hotel with a big fancy bar. You know that kind of bar where they serve every drink imaginable. Their menu had four pages dedicated to cocktails only, and you couldn’t have been happier. Well, you would have been happier if the event would’ve gone better. No one would remember the presence of Banking and Finance at this event, and that was all on you. 

“What can I get you?” The bartender asked you nicely, and you simply told him the first cocktail that had caught your eye. Something with passion fruit. “Coming right up.” He said you before starting your drink.

Why were you such a mess? Why couldn’t you be smart like the others? Why couldn’t you just lock yourself up for a week and study everything you needed to know about banking. You don’t write any articles, you don’t get invited to big meetings because you’re known as research girl who makes coffee. The bartender gave you your drink, and you almost drank the whole thing in one go. He looked at you strangely, but you simply nodded your head. His hands immediately started to make you another, and you couldn’t care if he made you the same drink or something else. You needed the sweetness of the drink to remind you of good summer times with your friends during college. You needed the alcohol to burn your throat to tell you of the times when you were too drunk to function. Too drunk to be reminded of the fact that life sucks, and you really thought life would be better at this age. 

You continued your drinking speed for a good hour, and four cocktails were already swimming in your stomach. You felt the light buzz, and your eyes started to wander. A man is drowning his sorrow in the elixir at one end of the bar, and a young couple flirts shamelessly at the other end with the nectar in hand. The drug seems to have very different effects, depending on the situation of its consumption. There’s a slightly larger woman in the corner table. She holds in hand a large beer, and there is a plate in front of her that seems to hold the remains of what was a serving of nachos.

“Miss Y/N!” Someone called out your name from behind you, and you immediately recognized the low voice of mister Byun Baekhyun, the devil himself. “I thought you were headed straight back home. Didn’t you have a flight to catch?” He asked you while seating himself beside you at the bar. He signed the bartender for a whiskey, and in under a minute he was drinking next to you. Uninvited.

“Aren’t you going to answer my questions?”

“Do I have to?” You took another nip from your drink. You really needed to drink more to ignore the annoyance you felt when Baekhyun was near.

“You can also tell me something about yourself.” He told you. The left side of his lip tugged upwards creating a sinister smirk on his god-like face; casting a spell of lust to eyes that dare look his way. You looked away.

“Please annoy someone else while I’m still asking nicely.”

“Bad day?” He asked you, all cockiness aside. Again he surprised you with a genuine interest in your wellbeing.

“You were there.” You finally gave in and turned yourself toward him almost falling from your chair. 

“You were always surrounded by people. Isn’t that what these events are meant for?” He asked you with confusion in his eyes.

“If these people were interested in my work and my company it would have been fine. It could’ve been great actually.” You tried to explain to him, but he still didn’t understand your troubled mind. He thought you did well.

“They were interested in you.” He tried to reason with you. Boy, has he even spoken to a tipsy girl? You don’t just reason with them, you listen and silently nod.

“Yes exactly. In me, and not my company.” You started to grow more frustrated. Every sip you took from your drink got you more fired up. 

“Do you like your company that much that you would let it steal your spotlight?” He asked you bewildered. He didn’t seem to understand why you would hide in the background.

“I don’t actually, but I would like for once to be appreciated for what I do and not for how I look like.” This got him to be more understanding.

“Well, tell me something about what you do.” His question caught you off guard. You ignored his stare while ordering a new round for the two of you. 

“I don’t want to bore you.” You finally told him after a moment of silence.

“We work in the same field. I don’t think you can bore me that easily.”

“You’re doing it again.” You sighed, resting your head in your hands in defeat. Men just didn’t understand. They were always looked at with respect.

“What?” The liquor made his cheeks turn red, and you almost wanted to touch them. Almost.

“I want to bore you with my knowledge. I want people to look up certain words after they had a conversation with me. I want to bore people.” Your voice grew louder, but Baekhyun didn’t say anything about it. He seemed to be rooted in thought.

“Are you confident that you can bore me?” His voice sounded calm and collected, but his eyes showed an intense passion. 

“Of course not.” You sunk lower in your seat while taking a sip from your new cocktail. That was your fifth in under two hours. New record.

“That’s your first mistake.” He firmly stated. He straightened his back when he realized you were intently looking up at him.

“What?” You asked him when he didn’t continue his inspiring monologue. 

“You need to be more confident. You need to believe you can bore me with your knowledge. You need to be convinced that I will look up words on google after our conversation.”

“Look, thank you for listening and helping, but you can’t help me with being reasonable.” You turned away from him, hoping this would end the tiring conversation.

“What do you need me to do?” His gaze lingered on you, but it didn’t feel awkward.

“Don’t be reasonable.” You simply stated with your fingers wrapped around your drink like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

“Is there anything else bothering you?” 

“I hate my job Baekhyun. Everything is bothering me.” You spit out, and you immediately regretted your tone. You might not have been the nicest to the young man, but he didn’t deserve the attitude you were serving right now. He didn’t seem fazed by your rudeness.

“Why don’t you just quit your job?” The question was so damn simple but was so much more complicated to answer.

“It’s not that easy.” You finally said.

“How come?” His eyes tried to find yours, but you were deliberately avoiding his gaze. You didn’t want to see his pity. 

“Because that would be my third failed career.”

“Some people need time to find out what they want to do in life. That’s okay.”

“It’s not. I’m almost in my thirties, and I’ve accomplished nothing.”

“I hardly believe that. What is troubling you?”

“I check other people’s research. I bring them coffee, and let me tell you something: the coffee isn’t even that good. It’s terrible. I refuse to drink that tasteless brown liquid. They spend money on a fancy car to drive me to an event, but they can’t even spend money on a better coffee machine…”

“… I’ve lied to get this job. I told them I spoke French and that I had experience in investing. Like what the hell would I invest in? A shoe? My bank account never reaches anything above 100…” You were on a roll. Baekhyun had opened the gates of your personal hell: the inside of your brain.

“…And don’t get me started on Oh Sehun. He barely puts in any effort, and I’m not saying that I’m an angel in that department, but I at least try to understand the shit people are saying. All he does is play card games all day long, and try to suck up to people…”

“…My parents are also so proud of my new job, and they tell me that everyday. I can not just leave something when it makes my parents proud. I’m glad they forgot about the time I wanted to start my own catering business. I’m still paying off all the debt that stupid thing caused…” You continued with the word waterfall that came out of your mouth unwillingly. Why didn’t you just stop? Baekhyun didn’t care, but he kept listening to your rambling.

“…How was I supposed to know that family got bankrupt right after the wedding I catered? How was I supposed to know?…”

“…I never told my roommate I slept with her boyfriend the day after they broke up. What kind of person am I? Who does something like that?…” His eyes stayed on your face, never scanning your body, and you felt oddly comforted. 

“… Maybe I should give the coffeeshop guy a chance. He’s the only one willing to have sex with me when I wear these hideous and most importantly, boring outfits for work. He deserves an award for that, so I should just give to him right?…” He kept sipping from his drink while you had your meltdown, but he wasn’t judging. His eyes were unreadably, but there was no judgment in them. Of that, you were sure. 

“… My ex is engaged! Can you imagine? That’s my second ex-boyfriend who got engaged with the girl that came after me. I did all the hard work of training him to be better, and she just got it for free. Without fights or dirty stuff in the bathroom. How does that make me feel? Well, let me tell you, I feel like shit that everyone I date seems to find the one after we break up. I had to explain to him that cumin in me doesn’t equal me having an orgasm for crying out loud. I did that for the other girl …”

“… My colleague Mina is the biggest bitch in the office. Everyone likes her and adores her, but she’d walk all over them to get what she wants. She knows I don’t know anything about banking, so she always gives me the most difficult tasks. I think she wants to break me, but I wont. I water her plant with coffee sometimes. I want the plant to die…”

“… Why does the coffee suck at work? Why don’t they give us something better? Coffee is a basic thing, you know. I deserve some good coffee…” You looked into his eyes and realized you had just blurted out all your secrets to a stranger. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to burden you with my problems.”

“I did ask what was troubling you.”

“I feel dizzy. I’m heading up. Until hopefully never.” You quickly got up and made your way to the elevator, ignoring Baekhyun’s calls. You were too embarrassed and too drunk to deal with him. You need sleep, and maybe a good cry. He tried to catch up to you in the elevator, but you pressed the button to close the doors. 

[johnrossbowie]

LEAVING TWITTER

I wrote this earlier in the fall, before the election, after dissolving my Twitter account. I wasn’t sure where to put it (“try up your ass!” – someone, I’m sure) and then I remembered I have a tumblr I never use. Anyway, here tis.

How do you shame someone who thinks Trumps’ half-baked policies and quarter-baked messaging put him in the pantheon of great Presidents? How do you shame someone so lacking in introspection that they will call Obama arrogant while praising Trump’s decisiveness and yet at the same time vehemently deny that they’re racist? How do you shame someone for whom that racism is endearing and maybe long overdue?

You don’t. It’s silly to think otherwise.

Twitter is an addiction of mine, and true to form, my dependence on it grew more serious after I quit drinking in 2010. At first it was a chance to mouth off, make jokes both stupid and erudite and occasionally stick my foot in my mouth (I owe New Yorker writer Tad Friend an apology. He knows why, or (God willing) he’s forgotten. Either way. Sorry.) I blew off steam, steam that was accumulating without booze to dampen the flames. Not always constructive venting, but I also met new friends, and connected with people whose work I’ve admired for literal decades and ended up seeing plays with Lin-Manuel Miranda and hanging backstage with Jane Wiedlin after a Go-Go’s show and exchanging sober thoughts with Mike Doughty. When my mom passed in 2018, a lot of people reached out to tell me they were thinking of me. This was nice. For a while, Twitter was a huge help when I needed it.

I used to hate going to parties and really hated dancing and mingling, but a couple of drinks would fix that. Point is, for a while, booze was a huge help, too.

But my engagement with Twitter changed, and I started calling people my ‘friends’ even though I’d never once met them or even heard their voices. These weren’t even penpals, these were people whose jokes or stances I enjoyed, so with Arthurian benevolence I clicked on a little heart icon, liked their tweet, and assumed therefore that we had signed some sort of blood oath.

We had not. I got glib, and cheap, and a little lazy. And then to make matters much worse, Trump came along and extended his reach with the medium.

There was a while there where I thought I could be a sort of voice for the voiceless, and I thought I was doing that. I tried very hard to only contribute things that I felt were not being said – It wasn’t accomplishing anything to notice “Haha Trump looks like he’s bullshitting his way through an oral report” – such things were self-evident. I tried to point out very specific inconsistencies in his policies, like the Muslim ban meant to curb terrorism that still favored the country that brought forth 13 of the 9/11 hijackers. Like his full-throated cries against media bias performed while he suckled at Roger Ailes’ wrinkly teat.  Like his fondness for evangelical votes that coincided with a scriptural knowledge that lagged far behind mine, even though I’m a lapsed Episcopalian, and there is no one less religiously observant than a lapsed Episcopalian. But that eventually gave way to unleashing ad hominem attacks against his higher profile supporters, who I felt weren’t being questioned enough, who I felt were in turn being fawned over by theirdim supporters. If you’re one of these guys, and you think I’m talking about you, you’re probably right, but don’t mistake this for an apology. You suck, and you support someone who sucks, and your idolatry is hurting our country and its standing in the world. Fuck you entirely, but that’s not the point. The point is that me screaming into the toilet of Twitter helps no one – it doesn’t help a family stuck at the border because they’re trying to secure a better life for their kids. It doesn’t help a poor teenager who can’t get an abortion because the party of ‘small government’ has squeezed their tiny jurisdiction into her uterus. It doesn’t help the coal miner who’s staking all his hopes on a dying industry and a President’s empty promises to resurrect it. I was born in New York City, and I currently live in Los Angeles. Those are the only two places I’ve ever lived, if you don’t count the 4 years I spent in Ithaca[1]. So, yes, I live in a liberal bubble, and while I’ve driven across the country a couple of times and did a few weeks in a touring band and am as crushed as any heartlander about the demise of Waffle House, you have me dead to rights if you call me a coastal elitist. And with that in mind, I offer few surprises. A guy who grew up in the theater district and was vehemently opposed to same-sex marriage or felt you should own an AR-15? THAT would be newsworthy. I am not newsworthy. I can preach to the choir, I can confirm people’s biases, but I will likely not sway anyone who is eager to dismiss a Native New Yorker who lives in Hollywood. I grew up in the New York of the 1970s, and that part of my identity did shape my politics. My mom’s boss was gay and the Son of Sam posed a realistic threat. As such, gays are job creators[2] and guns are used for homicide much more often than they are used for self-defense[3]. I have found this to be generally true over the years, and there’s even data to back it up.

“But Mr. Bowie,” you might say, though I insist you call me John - “those studies are conducted by elitist institutions and those institutions suck!” And again, I am not going to reason with people who will dismiss anything that doesn’t fit their limited world view as elitist or, God Help Us, fake news. But the studies above are peer-reviewed, convincing, and there are more where those came from.

“But John,” you might say, and I am soothed that we’re one a first name basis - “Can’t you just stay on Twitter for the jokes?” Ugh. A) apparently not and B) the jokes are few and far between, and I am 100% part of that problem.

I have stuff to offer, but Twitter is not the place from which to offer it.

After years of academically understanding that Twitter is not the real world, Super Tuesday 2020 made the abstract pretty fucking concrete. If you had looked at my feed on the Monday beforehand – my feed which is admittedly curated towards the left, but not monolithic (Hi, Rich Lowry!) – you’d have felt that a solid Bernie surge was imminent, but also that your candidate was going surprise her more vocal critics. When the Biden sweep swept, when Bernie was diminished and when Warren was defeated, I realized that Twitter is not only not the real world, it’s almost some sort of Phillip K. Dickian alternate timeline, untethered to anything we’re actually experiencing in our day to day life. This is both good news and bad news – one, we’re not heading towards a utopia of single payer health care and the eradication of American medical debt any time soon, but two, we’re also not being increasingly governed by diaper-clad jungen like Charlie Kirk. Clouds and their linings. Leaving Twitter may look like ceding ground to the assclowns but get this – the ground. Is not. There.

It’s just air.

There are tangible things I can do with my time - volunteer with a local organization called Food On Foot, who provide food and job training for people experiencing homelessness here in my adopted Los Angeles. I can give money to candidates and causes I support, and I can occasionally even drop by social media to boost a project or an issue and then vanish, like a sort of Caucasian Zorro who doesn’t read his mentions. I can also model good behavior for my kids (ages 10 and 13) who don’t need to see their father glued to his phone, arguing about Trumps incompetence with Constitutional scholars who have a misspelled Bible verse in their bio (three s’ in Ecclesiastes, folks).

So farewell Twitter. I’ll miss a lot of you. Perhaps not as badly as I miss Simon Maloy and Roger Ebert and Harris Wittels and others whose deaths created an unfillable void on the platform. But I won’t miss the yelling, and the lionization of poor grammar, and anonymous trolls telling my Jewish friends that they were gonna leave the country “via chimney.” I will not miss people who think Trump is a stable genius calling me a “fucktard.” I will not miss transphobia or cancelling but I will miss hashtag games, particularly my stellar work during #mypunkmusical (Probably should have quit after that surge, I was on fire that night, real blaze of glory stuff I mean, Christ, Sunday in the Park with the Germs? Husker Du I Hear A Waltz? Fiddler on the Roof (keeping an eye out for the cops)? These are Pulitzer contenders.). Twitter makes me feel lousy, even when I’m right, and I’m often right. There’s just no point in barking bumperstickers at each other, and there are people who are speaking truth to power and doing a cleaner job of it – Aaron Rupar, Steven Pasquale, Louise Mensch, Imani Gandy and Ijeoma Oluo to name five solid mostly politically based accounts (Yes, Pasquale is a Broadway tenor. He’s also a tenacious lefty with good points and research and a dreamy voice. You think you’re straight and then you hear him sing anything from Bridges of Madison County and you want him to spoon you.). You’re probably already following those mentioned, but on the off chance you’re not, get to it. You’ll thank me, but you won’t be able to unless you actually have my email.

_______

[1] And Jesus, that’s worse – Ithaca is such a lefty enclave that they had an actual socialist mayor FOR WHOM I VOTED while I was there. And not socialist the way some people think all Democrats are socialist – I mean Ben Nichols actually ran on the socialist ticket and was re-elected twice for a total of six years.

[2] The National Gay and Lesbian Chamber of Commerce, “America’s LGBT Economy” Jan 20th, 2017

[3] The Violence Policy Institute, Firearm Justifiable Homicides and Non-Fatal Self Defense Gun Use, July 2019.

[orestes-hungry-and-pylades-sober]

Les Miserables Stonewall AU

Just hear me out for a moment: Les Mis AU taking place in 1969 Manhattan. June, if we want to be specific. Why June? Stonewall.

So my school does these trips every few years that are always a big deal. A really big deal. As in, a month in the Galapagos Islands. It got canceled cause of covid but still, y'all get my point, right?

I also came across these two amazing drawings the other day. I don't know either of the artists so if you do, please let me know so that I can credit them. Not my art

The art and the trip gave me the idea. Because look, pretty much the entire fandom ships e/R. And then there's Courf and Ferre, and everyone else. I'll list them all later.

So we end up with les amis in Manhattan during the Stonewall riots and protests. Obviously, they're going to get themselves caught up in it, right?

--------------------------------

There are two ways I might want to go with this. They're both good and they could both work out well but I'm not sure which one I'd rather use.

    1) they're just all students at the same university who happen to be going on the trip together. Obviously, some of them would already know each other (like R has been completely in love with Enj for years) but realistically, you don't know everyone who goes to your school

    2) all of them are part of the drama/theatre club. This one might work out in the sense that they're all going to Broadway to watch a performance or perform themselves (Phantom maybe?), and that the theatre club has become an accidental hidden magnet for closed queers. Tbh that's what it's like at my school and why I'm in drama.

--------------------------------

And here are basically all of the character roles.

Enjolras - Social equality/civics minor. He hasn't yet decided if he wants to pursue a higher degree in the same field or try something else. Often in detention or something because he gets into fights all the time. If he sees a bully picking on a kid, he will not hesitate to kick the bully's ass into next week. He's that one person that you'd go to if you had a problem, kinda like a school vigilante. A girl being harassed? Talk to Enjy and the man will never bother her again. He organizes a bunch of rallies and protests for what he believes in. Should've probably been suspended or expelled a while ago, for all the people he's hurt, but the teachers and school board know why he does it and know that he keeps the other students safe. Still manages to get really good grades, as long as he gets a bit of help from Ferre or Courf (and they're glad to help him study or smth)

Grantaire - slightly sketchy fine arts and music double major. He's a composer and his music is beautiful, and so are his paintings, but while he's amazing in those classes, he's just barely scraping by in the more 'academic' classes he's taking. Everyone knows him as 'the problem kid' but not in the same way as Enjy. R gets into fights and stuff too, but not exactly for good reasons. Has a drinking problem and has turned up to class drunk on a few occasions. Always carries around a sketchbook. He's completely in love with Enjy, and while the two of them aren't exactly friends, Enj likes him a lot more than most of the other students, since he's actually taken the time to get to know Grantaire personally rather than just as 'that one drunk problem kid who's about to flunk out.' Really sarcastic and sassy.

Combeferre - (y'all, I said his name with the E at the end kinda like 'ferreh' for so fucking long before someone decided to say it rhymed with Javert). Philosophy minor, lit major. He's probably on the student representation board. That one kid that manages to be a total nerd who literally corrects the dictionary for fun yet is still one of the coolest kids in the school. Everyone seems to think he's cool and composed and calm, and they're not wrong, but he's mentally screaming the loudest of all of them when it comes to finals or something. He's a bit of a perfectionist and knows it, but he's also used to being able to easily pass his classes. How do I describe this... he's outwardly composed but internally a mess. A lot of kids known as 'the smart one' who are overachievers and have teachers who praise their work, etc, are. Internally screaming 24/7. Believe me, I know what it's like.

Courfeyrac - he's the only mutual friend of everyone in the group. He's a literal ray of sunshine and always will go out of his way to say hello to someone and ask how they're doing that day, and check up on someone who's looking down. He's really good with kids and people in general. Might run a tutoring group or something because I've always thought he'd make a really good teacher. (Just imagine Courf as an elementary school teacher or something. Carrying little kids around on his shoulders, helping them with art projects, and hanging them up all over the classroom. He'd be kind and patient and funny and everyone would love him. Just- elementary teacher Courf). Best friends with Combeferre. Probably Jvj's aide or TA or something.

Marius - I think we all know him. He just Pontmercys his way through university and has a massive crush on this one girl who sits across the aisle from him in one of his classes. She's pretty and brave and smart and outspoken, and he admires her. Eponine, his good friend, sees this crush and convinces him to talk to her. He has a brilliant idea to ask her for help with homework and just botches up the entire thing and kinda embarrasses himself, (cue Eponine facepalming in the background) but she thinks it's sweet, and they end up becoming friends.

Eponine - honestly I don't know what I want to do with her. I know she's another student on the trip, but I only have the vaguest ideas of how she fits into the group, and even that is more of a vibe, rather than something I can put down in words. Used to have a sister that her parents often abused and used. Ponine did her best to shelter Cosette from their parents, but she didn't always succeed. However, she was able to get help and get her sister taken away. Their parents turned on Ponine instead. Her little brother ended up running away, but she wasn't able to. Eventually, she stops going home at night, sleeping at school instead. Professor Valjean found her outside his classroom one time when he finally left at like 2 in the morning after being stuck there grading papers. He ended up taking her home with him.

Cosette - Eponine's "sister". I will insist on these two getting along and being best friends, regardless of how you want to interpret their canon relationship. Imma just call them sisters, since they were raised that way. Eventually, she's taken away from the abusive household she lived in as a child. Soon she was sent to be fostered with a man who later became a university professor. Much to her surprise, she was reunited with her sister in a class and found out what had happened to Eponine in her absence. She quietly brought the issue up to her adopted father.

Valjean - history prof, and the supervising teacher for the trip. I call him Jvj and pronounce it sort of like 'Jivvy' and yes I know that's not even how it would be said and that it's weird af but I will live and die by that nickname. He's that one professor that everyone loves. While he never brings it up, his house is a second home to Eponine and Gavroche, ever since he found Ponine sleeping on a bench outside his classroom (Cosette may or may not have set this up so that he would find her), and now he has three children instead of just Cosette. By the end of the trip, he ends up with like 20 students who all treat him like he's their father.

Javert - ex-military school dean. He's coming on the trip as well because the school's two biggest problem students - Enj and R - are going on the trip and he doesn't trust Jvj to keep them in line. Everyone knows there's some sort of drama between him and one of the history professors, but no one can figure out the story between the two of them.

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Oh well look at me, totally ignoring the thing I said about them all not knowing each other. Welp. And yeah, I know I'm not being the most brick-accurate when it comes to their personalities or whatever, but I'm trying to keep the main feel of each of them while modifying it in a way that works for what I'm trying to write. And look if y'all want to make suggestions about roles for the other amis please go ahead cause I only really have theories for a few of them.

So anyway on to the actual plot.

They all settle in and the next day, they're kinda just let loose in the city to explore. Look we all know that Grantaire is probably going to try to find a bar or a pub or something. The thing is... he ends up at the Stonewall Inn. For y'all that don't know, it was a bar that mainly catered to members of the LGBT+ community. For the first time, he's kinda like 'there are... other people like me? I'm not some sort of a freak for being a man who's in love with another man?' and all that. Through some turn of events, Enj and R (maybe even a group of them?) end up there the next night. I remember reading this thing about since how common police raids and in order to avoid undercover police (*glares at Jav*) there were all sorts of safety measures in place and to be allowed in, they had to 'look gay' and you can bet R takes full advantage of the fact that he's there with Enj to get in.

The police conduct a surprise raid on the bar, and it explodes from just a regular thing into a massive deal, with a massive crowd of spectators. It quickly becomes more and more heated and eventually violent. They fight back against the police because you know neither of them would ever go quietly. Enj and R end up getting arrested together before everything goes insanely out of control, and if anyone else from their group was there, they manage to get away. In prison, Enjy talks to R about the whole deal. Through that conversation, they discuss the LGBT+ movement (though I can't remember if it was called that at the time) and Enjy eventually admits he's not straight, and one of the reasons he ended up becoming the School Vigilante is because he used to be tormented for it, and taught himself how to fight back. He refuses to let anyone else go through the same suffering for it. His protection soon extended to anyone being bullied and picked on, not just fellow queer people. The two of them decide that something has to be done, and this is the start of something massive. Enj tells R that he'll be going back whenever they get released, and Grantaire agrees to go with him.

Jav and Jvj come and negotiate for the release of the two of them since they're visiting French students and all that. When they get back to the place they're staying, I imagine they get a massive yelling-at from Ferre and Courf and Ponine. None of them know the full story, only that the two of them were caught in a bar and got arrested. I'm not sure how old all of them are in this... they're all over 18 in the novel (if I've done my math right) so they weren't arrested for being underage, so there are all sorts of rumors flying around about the two of them.

The next day, someone, I'm not sure who, overhears the two of them discussing what happened the night before, though they've both agreed not to mention anything personal about each other, in case that exact situation of being overheard occurs. However, the person who listens in on them goes to the rest of the group and talks about the protests, and eventually come to the decision that yes, what's happening is a massive deal, and they kinda all want to be part of it? Even if not all of them are part of the community, like Marius and Cosette, they're all very supportive allies and agree to join in these protests. Enj and R try to sneak out when they're confronted with the rest of the students. The two of them think the others are going to try to stop them until Courf steps up and says "like hell we're letting you do this alone,"

They all meet up before the Stonewall, joining a crowd of over a thousand people, surging against the police cordons. The bar itself has smashed windows and looks like someone tried to burn it, but it's still defiantly staying open. R gets his hands on a bunch of rainbow spray paint and joins in a group grafitting walls and buildings. Is grafitting even a word? Grafitti-ing? I dunno. But I had to look up when spray paint was invented and began being used and now I can tell you all about the history of aerosol. Being a writer, right?

They stick around for the rest of the week, joining in various rallies and protests at night, participating in the actual point of their trip during the day. Jav and Jvj obviously know what their students are doing, but they’ve both decided to not mention it at all.

One morning after the group has been out all night, they all escape the chaos and catch rides to Central Park? Maybe? I’ll have to see if that’s even possible. More research, yay!

Anyway, probably Central Park. I don’t really care how improbable it is rn. And we just get a series of shots of all the couples together who’ve found each other.

Enjolras and Grantaire, Courfeyrac and Combeferre, Joly and Bossuet, Bahorel and Feully, Maruis and Cosette. I’m going for lesbian or ace Eponine. Maybe both? If anyone else has suggestions, please lemme know.

--------------------------------

The only problem is, will I ever get around to actually writing this? No, probably not.

Sorry for the long post! Look I get that people feel weird leaving long replies or whatever but I promise you it's totally okay. More responses = me being more likely to actually write this, please and thank you! I'll probably come back to this someday and see if I can update it and add even more ideas and stuff to it, because I feel like I could turn this into a pretty cool fic, if anyone's even interested in it. Thank you so much, everyone!

[thecassadilla]

Written in the Stars - Chapter 3

Word Count: 3,755/AO3

Pairing: Kristanna

Love During Lockdown Series: Serendipity (Prologue) | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Summary: Figuring out how to go on an in-person date during a time of social distancing would be a challenge for anyone. Luckily, it comes easy to Anna and Kristoff, who find a creative way to spend some time with each other amidst a pandemic.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone, I’m back at it again. After a long week of feeling like I couldn’t see or think straight, I’ve somehow managed to write another chapter of this. It’s trash, just like me, so don’t read it lol. As a random side note that nobody even cares about - I haven’t eaten at a McDonald’s or a Dairy Queen in so long. Like, years - and not because of the pandemic, or because I’m a health nut, but just because XD. I don’t even know what this chapter is tbh. I hope you like it! (Also, I hope you like my little joke about Kristoff’s taste in music :P)

Kristoff turned around and looked through the rear windshield as he reversed out of the spot. As soon as they were back in drive, he asked “So, what are your friends like?”

“They’re really great,” Anna answered, simply. “We balance each other out.”

“What does that mean?”

“You called me brave, earlier - they’d call me bold. Let’s just say I’ve made some...questionable decisions in the past, and they’ve always been there to help me get through it.”

“They sound like good friends.”

She raised one of her hands up to cover her mouth as she realized what she’d just said. “Oh god, I just realized how terrible that sounded. I haven’t, like, gone to jail or murdered anyone. College is the prime time for making mistakes, and I’m not exempt from that. Just a lot of drinking and partying.”

“I just want you to know that I wasn’t assuming that you murdered someone,” he laughed. 

“Well, I don’t know! I phrased it so horribly, a lot of assumptions could be made.”

“Don’t worry, you’re totally fine,” he insisted.

“Anyway, I met my best friend, Diana, in freshman year English and we had a lot of fun together. I haven’t spoken to her in awhile, though.”

“Because of quarantine?”

“No,” she sighed. “We had a falling out. I don’t know. I mean, I know, but it’s complicated and neither of us want to suck it up and talk about it.”

“I totally get that. I’ve never really had a best friend, but there’s always been some type of drama within my friend groups. I’m just the guy who tries not to take sides or get involved.”

“The problem is that Diana and I are both equally guilty in this case. I hurt her, and she hurt me, and we’re both being babies about it.”

“Maybe you should be the bigger person, then? If she’s really your best friend, then you want her in your life, right?”

“I know, it’s just hard,” she whined. “I know that it would be the right thing to do, but I’m just not ready to have that talk yet. My friend Amanda - she’s the one who I mentioned you to - is the mediator right now. Diana isn’t ready, yet, either, according to her.”

“I’m not really qualified to give you advice here, but hopefully it all works out for both of you.”

“Something that you’ll come to learn about me, if we continue to see each other, is that I’m very stubborn and very strong-willed. Diana has a similar personality, so we tend to clash.”

“Strong-willed, huh? I guess that sounds like you - I am driving to Dairy Queen, after all.”

She reached over and playfully shoved his arm. “Shut up!”

He momentarily took both of his hands off of the steering wheel to raise them in surrender. “Sorry, I was just teasing.”

“I know,” she smirked. “I was, too. Anyway, I trust my instincts, and I know that we’ll make up someday.”

“That’s good. Friends are important.”

“What are your friends like?”

“They’re just...very relaxed. Easy to hang out with - just meet up at the bar and talk for a while. I don’t really have a best friend, like I said, but I hang out with Ryder the most, probably because I live with him. And I’m pretty good friends with his sister, too. They’re good people.”

“We could always use good people in our lives. Your roommate seems to look after you, from what you’ve told me.”

“Usually I’m the one looking after him,” he corrected. “He’s only nineteen, but he’s a good kid. He was working his ass off when all of this started - two jobs and in school full time.”

“Wow, that’s pretty impressive. I could barely manage one job and school.”

“I give him a lot of credit. Just don’t tell him that I told you that.”

“Hey, if it wasn’t for him we probably wouldn’t be sitting here right now,” she pointed out. “Give credit where it’s due.”

“You’ll have to remind me to thank him.”

“I’d also like to thank him, someday.”

“You can come over whenever you want; he literally doesn’t care. I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said he was chill. I mean, he’s been taking this very seriously, but he always preferred to hang out with his friends while playing video games, so it’s a win-win situation for him.”

“I wish I had that type of freedom in my own apartment,” she practically growled, crossing her arms over her chest. “But, I will definitely take you up on that offer.”

“And I can fulfill my promise to cook you dinner. You can even invite your sister, if you wanted to.”

“Ha, you’re cute, but she isn’t stepping foot outside of that apartment until the coast is totally clear. If she doesn’t want me to leave, she definitely isn’t leaving.”

“I thought you said the only reason you were able to come today was because she was sleeping and couldn’t stop you. She isn’t always going to be asleep.”

“Yeah, but I can sneak out,” she shrugged. “I’ve done it before and I can do it again.”

“Are you talking about rappelling down the side of the building or something?”

“I’m not a superhero,” she laughed. “My sister has a very strict weekday routine. She works all day in her room and doesn’t come out until it’s time for us to start dinner.”

“Wouldn’t she hear the front door close?”

“She also happens to wear noise-cancelling headphones so she can go to her zoom meetings without distractions. I just have to leave before she finishes her work for the day.”

“You really weren’t joking about being strong-willed, huh?”

“Nope,” she shook her head. “I’m very determined. So, what type of music do you like to listen to?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, trying to think of an answer. “I listen to a bunch of different stuff. I guess I really like rock music, but a lot of rock music is also considered pop music? I listen to a lot of older stuff, too, like Queen.”

“I guess that was kind of an unfair question, because I don’t have a straight answer for it, either. I like Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande. I mostly listen to pop, but I also have an affinity for music from the ‘80s. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun is my jam.”

He laughed. “That’s a good one.”

“Can’t take life too seriously, you know?” She giggled. “Anyway, next question.”

“Is this a test?”

She playfully rolled her eyes. “No. I just want to know more about you, and the only way to do that is if we keep asking each other questions.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Um...favorite color?”

“Ooh, I really like jewel tones!” 

He glanced over at her. “....am I supposed to know what that is?”

“Really rich colors, like emerald green and sapphire blue - named after different jewels.”

“Aha,” he remarked triumphantly. “See, I wasn’t expecting an answer like that.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“I’m fond of blue. And gray. Kind of boring compared to your favorite colors, but those are the colors I wear the most.” He took one hand off the wheel, and motioned to his gray t-shirt as proof of his statement.

“It’s not boring,” she assured him. “I don’t know why I expected you to know what jewel tones were. And I guess I made a good decision when I chose to wear blue today.”

“I guess you’re a mind reader.”

“Alright, so,” she started, clapping her hands together. “What is your favorite food?”

“Easy, pizza.”

“Mine is chocolate.”

“Does that count as a food?”

“I don’t see why not,” she shrugged. “I like chocolate everything. Chocolate bars, chocolate cake, hot chocolate. Ooh, and I’m definitely going to get some type of chocolate ice cream at Dairy Queen.”

“That’s why I asked if it counted as a food,” he laughed. “There are so many different chocolate things that it seems more like a flavor than a food.”

“Fine,” she groaned. “You win. Uhh...I’ll pick pizza, too, I guess. Or sandwiches. Or sushi - see, you should’ve just left it at chocolate. I love food too much.”

“You don’t have to listen to me. What do I know?”

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault that I like everything.”

“Do you have any foods that you dislike?”

“I’m not a fan of brussels sprouts,” she shrugged. “But I’m willing to try anything once.”

“Even something like escargot or sardines?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“How about liver?”

“Okay,” she answered, scrunching up her nose. “Probably not liver.”

“I figured, liver just seems gross. But, you’re definitely more adventurous with food than I am. I’m not picky, but I don’t think I’d be willing to try sardines or anything.”

“To each his own,” she responded, simply. 

“Once we pass this light we’re going to be at Dairy Queen,” he pointed out. “How about instead of eating in the car, we drive over to the park we just passed? So we can stretch our legs for a bit?”

“What a great idea!” She exclaimed. “What are you going to get?”

“I have no idea. I haven’t been to a Dairy Queen in forever. Probably one of those things they turn upside down to show you how cold it is or something?”

“Blizzards!” She yelled. “I love those! I’m going to get one, too.”

“I feel like that’s the whole point of going,” he chuckled. “You can’t go there and not get a Blizzard. It’s like going to Burger King and then not getting a Whopper.”

“You make an excellent point,” she said, as the car pulled into the strip mall parking lot. The lot was mostly empty, save for a few cars, and so Kristoff was able to park right in front of the entrance. 

“I guess we have to put the masks back on, right?” He asked, as he cut the engine and pulled his keys out of the ignition.

“Yeah,” she sighed, picking her mask up from where it rested and looping it over her ears. “I don’t mind wearing a mask, but I really can’t wait until we don’t have to wear them anymore.”

“We’ll get there, someday,” he stated, putting his own mask on, but for good measure, he added, “Hopefully.” 

“I feel really awful for the people who have to wear these all day, everyday with no breaks. I’ve seen so many pictures online and I can’t even imagine what all of those essential workers are going through.”

“Tell me about it,” he remarked, reaching for the door handle and pulling it open. He motioned for her to go inside and then quickly followed behind her. The restaurant was completely deserted, with the exception of the two employees standing behind the counter.

“Can I help you?” One of the employees spoke up, as they approached; they kept a considerable distance in spite of the tape marks on the floor.

“Just a second,” Anna answered, squinting up at the menu. Her eyes darted around the illuminated sign for a moment before she looked over at Kristoff. “I know what I want, are you ready?”

“Yeah,” he responded, and they stepped up to the line.

“May I have a small Choco Brownie Extreme Blizzard?”

The cashier nodded and pushed a few buttons on the register before looking expectantly at Kristoff.

“Uh, may I please have a Royal Rocky Road Trip Blizzard? Also small.”

The cashier nodded once again before gruffly asking, “Is that it?”

“Yes,” Anna said, digging through her purse to find her wallet. The cashier read her the total, while the other employee began making the frozen concoctions.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay?”

“Don’t be silly!” She insisted, sticking her credit card into the chip reader. “You paid for dinner, I’m paying for dessert.”

The cashier muttered something under her breath, and Anna glanced up and was met with narrowed eyes. She pulled her card out, and as soon as the receipt printed, the cashier hastily thrust it at her before stepping away. She glanced back at Kristoff, who was reading a sign taped to the wall, and most likely hadn’t noticed the odd exchange. 

A moment later, the other employee returned with a white paper bag. Anna took it, and thanked her before walking over to Kristoff.

“Ready?”

“Yup,” he answered. “Do you want me to carry that?”

“No, I got it.”

He reached out and held the door open for her again, and they stepped out into the hot, humid air. 

“It kind of feels nice out there after sitting in the car for so long,” he remarked, as they climbed into the car. “You still wanna go to the park, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, simply, staring out the window as he backed out of the spot and drove away. Her mind was in another place; she was replaying the moment with the cashier over and over again.

“You know, I was thinking,” he started, glancing over at her. “What a crazy name Royal Rocky Road is. It’s a tongue twister - try saying that three times fast.”

She let out a small laugh in response, but continued to look at the passing cars and trees. The rest of the short drive was quiet, and they arrived at the park within a few minutes. Just like Dairy Queen, it was practically deserted, with the exception of one other car in the entire lot.

“Do you want to walk around or do you want me to pop open the trunk so we can sit outside but not have to worry about finding a bench?”

“We could just sit outside for a while,” she answered, finally looking over at him. She hadn’t even realized that she left her mask on until she saw that he had taken his off. She quickly reached back behind her ears to pull the loops free, and placed the mask on the center console. 

She opened the door and stepped out of the SUV, clutching the bag in her hands. She walked around to the rear of the car, where Kristoff was opening the trunk. She placed the bag onto the flat surface and started to open it.

“Should we sanitize our hands again?”

“Oh. Yeah.” She dropped her hands away and walked back to the front of the car and retrieved her purse, before returning to him.

“Sorry, I wouldn’t have brought it up if I had realized your bag was in the front.”

“No, it’s fine, it just slipped my mind. Can’t be too safe, right?”

She dug through her purse in search of the tiny bottle, and when she found it, she squeezed a dollop into his waiting hands before taking some for herself and placing the bottle on the floor of the trunk, next to the bag.

“Thank you, again,” he said, as he rubbed his hands together. “I’ll have to get a couple of bottles to keep in the car. Normally they smell like alcohol, but yours smells really nice.”

“I got this one from Bath and Body Works - they have tons of different scents. You can keep it if you want, I have a bunch at home.”

“Thank you, but that’s okay. I’m sure stuff like that is in short supply right now, and I never really go anywhere.”

She nodded, deciding that she was going to leave it in his cup holder anyway; it would make her feel better knowing that he had some if he needed it. She reached back and opened the bag, taking out the two identical cups. The employee was kind enough to write the initials of the flavors they got, so they were easily distinguishable. She handed him his ice cream and spoon before taking her own.

“This is going to sound so ridiculous, but I wish they could’ve turned them upside down,” he remarked as he took the lid off of his cup. “Obviously they couldn’t, but it’s part of the experience. Or, it used to be.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, staring at the cup in her hands. The interaction with the cashier was still heavy on her mind; there was an insurmountable feeling of guilt that was bubbling up inside of her, threatening to spill over at the slightest provocation. 

For a few moments, they quietly ate their ice cream, partly because it was sure to melt quickly in the blazing heat. 

“Hey, Anna?” He asked, finally breaking the silence.

She blinked and looked up at him. “Hmm?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No! Not at all! You’re great.”

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left Dairy Queen, and if I said or did something -”

“No, you didn’t,” she cut him off mid-sentence. “I swear.”

“Is something bothering you?”

It seemed unavoidable now; she wished that she wasn’t so obvious with her emotions, but it was better to let it out than hold it in, right? “It’s just...that girl who helped us at Dairy Queen seemed upset or angry or something. She said something under her breath and gave me the dirtiest look and practically threw the receipt at me. I don’t know why, but I’m assuming because she’s working at an ice cream parlor, serving people like me, during a crisis.”

He looked slightly bewildered at her revelation. “You can’t make that assumption,” he assured her. “She could be angry for a million reasons.”

“I know, but that’s the assumption that my brain keeps going back to. In what world is ice cream essential?”

“It’s not, but you’re not the one making those calls.”

“It doesn’t help that she’s probably only making ten dollars an hour while everyone on unemployment is getting an extra six hundred dollars a week,” she pointed out, her eyebrows furrowing together.

“I agree, it’s not fair to anyone working right now. You didn’t implement that rule, though.”

“This whole situation isn’t fair. People had to cancel their weddings - that’s absolutely insane to me. Could you imagine spending months or years planning the happiest day of your life only for a virus to come and ruin it?”

He shook his head. “I can’t. But I guess if the love is there then the date doesn’t really matter? I don’t know.”

“Or what about the people who have kids? Could you imagine living with a kid, right now? I hated being home as a kid - I needed to go to school and see people, or go to my activities, or I would’ve gone crazy. How are people coping?”

“They have technology on their side, at least. We didn’t have tablets or anything when we were kids, you know?”

“I keep wondering - and this has nothing to do with you - if it’s bad or wrong to feel happy right now. Like, so much of the world is suffering, and I’m privileged enough to not be suffering, and feeling content with my own life makes me feel so…” she trailed off, her eyes downcast.

“Guilty?” He guessed.

“Yeah, exactly. Whatever this is could be a really good thing, and I want that - I want good things. We’re both healthy, but we’re breaking the rules to spend time together, and as great and wonderful as this has been, I can’t help but think about the people who haven’t been so lucky in this situation.”

“I don’t think you should think like that,” he said, simply. “I completely understand where you’re coming from, but you can’t blame yourself for what happens to other people. Some parts of life can’t be stopped or controlled no matter how hard we try.”

“I know,” she frowned.

“Besides, it isn’t like you’re one of those people who’s pretending that it’s over, or didn’t even exist to begin with. We’ve been following the rules - wearing masks, and cleaning our hands. There isn’t much else we can do; we can’t completely stop living. This pandemic is messing with everyone, even if we don’t realize it.”

“I guess it scares me more than I thought it did,” she admitted, biting her lip. “I have a lot of hope that this will all end, someday, but at the same time, I just don’t know.”

“I feel the same way.”

“And then, in all of this mess, I can’t help but think that we might not have met each other if it weren’t for this stupid pandemic - and despite my ranting, I’m happy that we did. I know we were joking about it before, but I keep thinking back to when I promised to shake your hand - or even when I tried to hug you, earlier. The only reason why I’m scared of doing those things is because of what’s happening,” she explained. “Everything feels wrong.”

“It may be socially unacceptable at the moment, but I’m personally okay with it because it’s such a small, calculated risk. We each live with one other person, and neither of us has even been in public in so long, you know?”

She didn’t answer. He seemed so rational and level-headed and calm, and quite frankly, she felt like a mess. There was a considerable amount of undeniable tension building up between the two of them, and although they were still standing side-by-side, she found herself staring at him. How easy it would be to wrap her arms around him, lean up, and press a kiss to his lips.

And even though he just expressly said that he was okay with being touched, she pushed the thought back down. It was absurd, almost - how natural it felt to be around someone she hardly knew, and yet be wracked with an asinine amount of guilt over the state of the world.

She shook her head, snapping herself out of the trance that she was in. “Sorry for rambling, I do that a lot. But I really appreciate that you were willing to listen to my rant and I hope you don’t think that I regret coming out with you, or something.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he looked down at her and gave her a small smile. “We’re all bound to...feel things after being trapped inside for two months.” 

“Thanks for understanding,” she smiled back, appreciative of his sincerity. She quickly realized that continually pushing her thoughts away was certainly going to be a struggle, especially when he looked at her with such kindness. And for some reason she didn’t quite understand, she tore her focus away from him and placed it back on the cup in her hands.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Share a Lair 04 || Keep Char Distracted

Jasper and Henry were chatting about NYE plans whenever Max was TRYING to distract his mind from this past week’s thoughts of Charlotte and work on his latest invention. Sure - he selected to do so in the living room, and that was no place for science experiments… well… technically ANY place was a place for science experiments. But, he was still annoyed to hear their voices, despite the fact that he had not heard a single word that either of them were saying. Until one of them said, “What’ll we do about Charlotte?” He hated that just the mere mention of her name demanded his attention, but there he was, unintentionally eavesdropping.

“She probably won’t want to, anyway,” Henry said. “Not really her thang."

"Yeah, but… she’ll still wanna be included. What if she says YES, and we have to spend your first solo NYE hearing her talk about how bad every idea is! Henry… it’s a party BOAT! Drunk young people on a boat, in the middle of the water, specifically to avoid the police…”

“When you’re right, you’re right. Maybe we can get her a distraction?” Henry suggested. “Like, get somebody else to hang out with her for New Year’s Eve and let her be their party pooper!” And because they were sure he wasn’t listening at all, then he heard both of them cheer, “MAX!"

He looked up as they headed over and he sighed. "Max, buddy, we need a HUGE favor and I will repay you in - doing whatever you say about the lair for the entire month of January!” Henry offered. Fool. Max would’ve did this for free. But there was no need to make himself appear too available.

“Whatever it is, I’m not remotely interested,” Max lied. No other word for it. He just straight up lied about it right to those boys’ faces.

“Hear us out, first,” Jasper said.

“Sounded like you two wanna be alone for New Year’s Eve, so you want me to cart Charlotte around so you won’t have to man up and admit that you don’t want her around,” Max said.

“I know it might sound bad, but it’s just that this is going to be a potentially excellent night, and as much as we both love Charlotte, she’s not really one to overlook potential danger, not even at the expense of potential excellence!”

“And I’m not some scapegoat. Just tell her you want a nice evening with your boyfriend and be done with it.”

“My what?” Henry asked. Max walked away, with his experiment in hand, hiding a smirk. Henry gave chase, “Listen! Dude… I KNOW Char’s not fun and she’s kind of a super nerd and is pretty uptight.”

“You’re really selling her here, Hen,” Max said, deadpan.

“Two months!” Henry said. “January AND February.”

“You agree to make sure she’s not the one doing the chores in the community space and I’ll consider it,” Max said. Henry winced. Max shrugged and kept walking.

Jasper looked desperately at Henry, clasping his hands together, as though in prayer. “Fine! But, just so you know, she loves stuff like that. Cleaning up and being helpful and stuff. You’re taking away her potential joy by forcing my hand.”

“I’m sure,” Max said, rolling his eyes. “And just so you know… Charlotte’s not a nerd. You’re way more of a nerd than she is.” Max gave him a playful double slap on the cheek and Henry gasped at the suggestion.

“How do you figure?”

“I mean… Look at her and look at you,” Max said. Jasper looked like he was actually considering this. Max was the smartest man he had ever met, with the exception of Schwoz and to be honest, Jasper wasn’t actually smart enough to fully determine which of the two of them WAS the smarter man. Henry laughed uncomfortably and looked at Jasper, awaiting some type of backup in this conversation. Max expounded. “Okay, I get that she’s a straight A student, makes academic lists, spends her time working instead of having fun, BUT - she’s super hot, her hair is goals, has an amazing fashion sense, can skillfully do cool shit like beat everybody’s ass in video games and play musical instruments - SHE was in a band, Henry. Were YOU ever in a band?”

“What did you… have to like… write a report on her?” Henry asked, uncomfortably, laughing.

Jasper answered, “He WASN’T in a band! But I was!”

“JASPER is less of a nerd than you,” Max added, to twist the knife. He really didn’t like it whenever Henry said negative stuff about Charlotte. He actually agreed that Charlotte was a nerd… But, he also knew that he could make this argument in her favor, and just because she was a nerd didn’t mean that Henry had to keep repeating it out loud.

Henry gasped and Jasper nodded, very pleased, until Henry said, “Jasper had social media accounts for BUCKET collections AND a Bucketeer podcast!”

“Jasper ALSO had a podcast? Man, Henry, what do YOU bring to the cool kids’ table when you aren’t in uniform?”

“Wha… Well… I bring not being an uptight, straight A student or someone who wears belly shirts or collects buckets…”

“HEY!” Jasper said and folded his arms.

“What’s wrong with belly shirts?” Max asked.

“Yeah, what is?” Jasper insisted, now, clearly in Max’s corner. Truthfully, Max could wear a belly shirt. Lord knows he had the abs for them… But he never would, because once again, he agreed with Henry that they were pretty lame, but once again, he wasn’t gonna give Henry the satisfaction. This was a battle, of sorts. Over Charlotte’s honor and good name. Max didn’t care what the facts were, as long as he won it.

Henry shook his head. “I’m just… Jasper. Come on. You think I’M the nerdiest in our trio? It’s obviously Charlotte, and if it’s not… I mean… It CAN’T be ME. I’m Kid Danger, for crying out loud.”

Jasper rolled his eyes, looked at Max and Max knew this was about to be sweet satisfaction. “I once had a birthday party that every kid in Swellview showed up to because Captain Man stopped in. Henry had a party a few years later that Piper couldn’t convince her cool friends to show up at, because they knew that it was Henry’s, even with her public figure status and vouching for him.” Max laughed. Henry stammered. Jasper wasn’t done. “Henry had the same pick up line for years - never worked. Two of his girlfriends left him to go to a reality show, meanwhile, I had an obsessive girl who had to be pushed out of a window to stay away from me.”

“I understand that,” Max said. “Mine used to sleep outside of my house. Well, it’s clear to me who’s the nerdiest nerd of your circle.” Jasper looked worried for a moment, so Max reassured him, “It’s Henry, Dude.” Jasper fist pumped.

Henry and he began to argue about their accomplishments versus failures, “Captain Man only showed up because I got him to! Use your brain, Man.”

“I had my own hero day because I can be brave WITHOUT a sidekick suit. You’re unofficially the Playground Pooper!”

“You were the one that was ACTUALLY considered bizarre enough to BE the Playground Pooper!” Max smirked and continued on his way out of the room.

“Hey! You never said that you agreed to distract her!” Henry said.

Max turned around and smiled at him, “Oh, right. Yeah, you had me at “get somebody else to hang out with her for New Year’s Eve and let her be their party pooper.” It slowly dawned on Henry that Max had heard their entire conversation and played him for a fool. Why would someone do this? Like he could read his mind, Max said, “Charlotte deserves better friends.”

Jasper gasped. “I would fight a shark for Char! I just… don’t want her out there with us for New Year’s Eve.” Max rolled his eyes. “Is… Is Henry still the nerdiest, or was that ALL a game?”

“He definitely is. I mean, you strike me as a bisexual individual. Look at their curve records. Compare the quality of people that have turned him down or been interested in him verses hers.”

“What does THAT have to do with…”

“Hot people dig hot people,” Max said.

“Way more hot people have liked and been turned down by Charlotte!” Jasper said with realization.

“Joss Moss said that I was cute. That cancels out like… HALF of Charlotte’s list! Joss Moss is a wealthy socialite and the daughter of an infamous mob boss.” Henry fussed, flustered.

“I say that Charlotte’s cute,” Max said and folded his arms. “I’m a global superhero.”

“That wins,” Jasper whispered, very impressed with how hot Max was, especially right now, for some reason. Finally, Henry conceded and Max left the room. He really had to prep if he was gonna be hanging out with Charlotte tonight!

.

Charlotte came into the lair through the front entrance. Max had been a little less unbearable this week, so she decided to test it out and if she ran into a problem, she’d simply never come back to this house, ever again. She laughed. J/K, she thought. Her boys were here. Whenever she got inside, it was pretty quiet. She expected Henry and Jasper to be in the common area, but maybe they were in the tower. Ugh. Now, she’d have to walk to the tower…

“Hey!” Max cheered, suddenly and when she heard his voice, she turned to say it back, but she lost her ability to speak or move. He smiled brightly, with this look of accomplishment and while she realized that she probably had something to do with that; her body had nothing. “SO, long story short, you’re stuck with me tonight and Henry and Jasper are at the Man Cave getting ready to go to some kind of NYE thing.”

She scoffed, “WHAT? They let me drive all the way here and just stuck me with you???” It came out more harsh than she expected, and sounded like she was attacking him, when she meant for it to be directed at the boys. His smile was less confident, now and his eyebrows looked a little… bothered. “I mean… I’m sure that you have much better things to do than have to pretend to entertain me tonight.”

He perked up again and shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t have to pretend. You’ll be entertained. There’s a party in Metroburg or one in Hiddenville, Lady’s Choice.”

“Ummm… What are the pros and cons of each?” she asked. He hoped she’d loosen up before they hit any party.

“Pros are they’re parties. Cons are they’re not gonna abandon you to a guy that you barely know and hardly like?” He said, huffing a laugh.

“Hurtful,” she said.

“Well, we’re even, then.”

“Metroburg is full of open superpowers and probably has the greatest technology in daily life… But, I probably need to visit there on a day trip, not the night of a party, whenever people are going to be drinking. Drinking and DRIVING is bad enough. Drinking and suping?”

“OH MY GOD!” Max cried out to the sky, exasperated. “Let’s just go to Hiddenville! That’s where my friends will be, anyway.”

“Well… Why were you considering Metroburg, then?”

“Because that’s where the supes are and where I was born.”

“Well, do you want to go ahead and go there instead?” He was starting to see why her friends might want to ditch her on a party night. She was very preoccupied with making the right decision, when sometimes, all it took was just making ANY decision.

“Let’s go to Hiddenville,” he said, putting his foot down. She held up a finger and pulled out her party gumball dispenser. Was she supposed to have it? No. Did she deserve it, therefore take it? Well, she’d just pulled it out, so what does that tell you? She blew a bubble and transformed into a Black party dress, high heeled boots and a sparkly headband with the new year at the top of it. Even her flawless makeup had been designed into the gumball and she looked like… she was meant to be on his arm tonight. He was far more casual - in all black with a shirt, an over shirt, his jacket and a tight pair of pants with heavy boots. But… they matched… WELL! She held her hands out, a little bit self conscious and said, “This is fine for your party, right? I can’t tell if I’m overdressed or you just don’t give a shit, either way because any and everything looks good on you…” Her eyes widened at this unconscious admission.

“We look awesome,” he said, and pointed two fingers at the door to open it and used his other hand to make sure he was powering things down in the house.

[naturesgender]

hey folks this is gonna be a really really long post, i just kinda gotta write some stuff down, idk if anyone is gonna see this but if you do i’m gonna try to do the thing where there’s a cut and you can press “keep reading” if you wanna see the whole thing but idk how to do that so if it doesn’t work i’m sorry in advance!

*i think i figured it out, it should work! just put it there so u wouldn’t have to scroll past the whole thing if u didn’t wanna read it cause it’s rlly fuckin long lmao i love u all <3*

ok so

i am not Clinically Depressed i don’t live w/depression i don’t struggle with it on a daily basis i am generally a pretty Not-Depressed person

however

i am doing my best to get better at not ignoring the times when i *do* feel depressed because “i don’t actually suffer from clinical depression so this isn’t even that bad!” or “a lot of my friends feel like this on a daily fuckin basis and that’s really awful for them so i should always prioritize their feelings over mine all the time” or “these are stupid reasons to be depressed anyway” or “even though it’s really really hard for me to get out of bed right now there are people who sometimes Cannot get out of bed and i am not one of those people so it’s all good lol” or any of that shit cause (news flash) i am not the greatest at taking good emotional care of myself, and although i have gotten better at letting others take care of me, i still have lots of problems feeling comfy doing that if they’re not also letting me take care of them (which is a whole other issue that i’m not gonna get into rn)

so with all that in mind i just kind of wanted to get it down in writing and like Acknowledge the fact that during this past semester, mostly during the past month, i have been the most generally depressed i’ve been for a long time, maybe ever. i was definitely depressed in freshman year and was having some pretty Not Spicy Thoughts (nothing *super* serious dw) and that definitely wasn’t fun, but that was like a different brand of depression. back then the main reason i was depressed was bc i had no friends (or at least none i felt i could really be close with) and i was struggling to make the transition to high school and i didn’t really feel like either of my two-friends-who-i-didn’t-feel-i-could-be-close-with cared about me at all. this is a different brand. i’m very lucky to have a lovely group of very close friends who i can trust and who i mostly feel i can rely on (although when it comes to relying on my friends, the problem isn’t that i don’t feel that my friends are reliable bc i know that they are and i know they love me!! i trust that they would help me!! the issue is that i don’t often feel like it would be fair to ask them for help, but like i said that’s a whole other issue just wanted to clarify that the issue is not with my friends it’s 100% with me and i know that). i have a pretty good social life as of rn, and even though we’re all dealing with this shitty shitty pandemic, my friends and i have found ways to stay connected and we videochat and play games and i love them so much and i’m so grateful for them and they make my life infinitely better. so the social aspect is not the issue here in the same way it was in freshman year. the issue here is that i seem to have lost most of my driving force.

here is a list to help me acknowledge things

i turn 18 in exactly a month (january 7th) and although i know that i don’t just *poof* into an adult, i am still terrified of losing my childhood (much of which i have already lost due to very poor memory and my anxiety quashing the ability to be weird the way that i am/the way that i want to) and i don’t have myself together in the way that i wanted to by the time i reached 18/senior year/graduation/Adulting Time

online class is hell, the work has only gotten harder, i sit at my desk and stare at my computer screen for over 10 hours a day and don’t move and get lots of headaches and feel very understimulated, there’s always Something i haven’t done, and i can’t find it in me to give any shits about school in any way shape or form

except for maybe practicum i care about practicum i always care about practicum

i have basically no money and my gap year is coming up and i can’t get a job right now and i might not be able to get a job this school year at all and i am terrified of not being able to make enough money to give my friends the safe space they need, i need to support them, they need people who will Love Them, i want to give them a home i want to be a home for them and i am fucking terrified of not being able to make it happen for them

and for myself but also not really

like i definitely want this and i’m super excited to live with them but i’m also scared to leave home but i also know that they Need to leave home and i want to give them what they need!! and we’re gonna have such a good time!! and we’re gonna be safe and we’re gonna be whole and we’re gonna be loved and we’re gonna be a family!! this needs to happen i need to give them this we need to make this

i don’t wanna make it seem like i don’t wanna live with them, i do, i really do, i love them to pieces, i love them with all i am, i can’t express how much i love them, and i’m really really really excited, but at this point i’m mostly scared

having been diagnosed with (mild) adhd does not make it any easier to focus or sleep and i cannot fucking focus and i haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks

there’s so much shit that i have to do hanging over my head, mostly it’s scheduling i’m trying to schedule my life basically (which sounds crazy but it’s less intense than it sounds i’m just trying to give myself more structure) but that’s a really overwhelming task and every time i try to make a schedule i can never stick to it so i have a lot less faith in it this time around

my sexuality and gender and thoughts about surgery/transitions/etc remain unclear and the only thing i’m sure of is that i’m demiromantic, but that doesn’t do shit about unrequited romance, which hurts like a motherfucker, and i don’t even truly know if it *is* romance that i’m wanting and there’s nothing real that i can do about that either

still feeling like shit about my body in a lot of different ways, not gonna get too far into it rn

the pandemic + online school + drudgery of classes + general unmotivated feelings + no changes in routine + a lack of structure + same environment 24/7 makes every day feel the fucking same and i’m sick of it

i’m stressed about vassar results coming out tmrw and i still have to write like at most 8 different college supplements before december 23rd (2 weeks)

i haven’t really sat down and done anything i’ve Enjoyed for a while and not had a Responsibility hanging over my head

basically i’m tired and anxious and overworked and lonely and lacking a driving force and really really fucking angry at everything and all that combines to make me pretty damn miserable! and as a result of all of this, my self-care is slipping and then my room doesn’t get clean and my bed doesn’t get made and i don’t get dressed or make myself proper meals or brush my teeth or sleep and that just makes it worse

and i want to talk about how i do definitely still have plenty of happy moments and good things and there is still a good amount of sunshine, i’m not *completely* miserable, but the minute i start thinking about that, i start to think that whatever sunshine there may be automatically cancels out any gray that there is, which is not a good place to be because i don’t want to fake being happy (i’ve never been good at that anyway which is probably a good thing) so i’m trying to acknowledge that hey! things are pretty shitty!! but please keep in mind that even as i type this, most of me is saying things along the lines of “don’t share this don’t post it don’t complain you don’t have it bad you’re fine you need to take care of your friends you can’t feel these things just snap out of it and you’ll be fine” so this is a pretty big step and a lot for me to just Put Out Into The World

i spent a while trying to think of other things that i could add here but i don’t really think there’s much else to say. i’m not sure where to go from here. i don’t have any magic solutions so i am trying really really hard not to let myself slip into complete giving-up-i-will-not-get-better space and it helps to just Know what’s in my brain. i don’t know if i have the mental energy to try to “fix” any of these issues right now, i just think i needed to start by writing them down. now i have them and i guess i’ll see where i can go from here. sorry this post was super long for anyone who may have chosen to take a look

that’s all <3

[thechildoflightning]

The Kübler-Ross Model Ch2- Anger

Title: The Kübler-Ross Model [Masterpost]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: background LAMP, Elliot/Mitchell

~~~

Chapter Title: Anger- Chapter Two

Summary: 

Stage Two: Anger- Characterized by high energy and coped up frustrations that begin to pour out by lashing out at others or yourself.

In which Remy is angry about everything.

Warnings: Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Verbal Fights, Toxic Relationships (hinted at), Transphobia (mentioned), Exclusionary Rhetoric (mentioned), Ableism

[ao3 link]

~~~

Anger- Chapter Two

“Selected: Voicemail. One item. Tab one of one,” Remy’s phone says, sounding almost bitter. Remy sighs, at this point already knowing who it’s from. He puts his finger to the screen, sliding it around as he searches for the desired section.

“Voicemail.”

One finger down.

“Daniel Zurko. M-”

Double tap.

“Remy. This is childish and has gone on way too long. I canceled the credit card. I expect you to call me so we can get you home. I get that you’re upset, but this is not the way to deal with it. You think I’m the bad guy but I am doing what’s best for you Remy, I always have. You need to grow up. You’re an adult now, act like one. Call me. Come home. Now.”

-

Moving into the dorms is a surprisingly low-key event. Remy gets to move in early, as does Kai, so they're not trying to get things done in the time most of the freshman are piling in. It’s a lot nicer that way. They don’t have people on top of them- actually they have pretty much no one on top of them- and that lowers Remy’s stress by a lot.

Except, this definitely wasn’t something he’s stressing about.

Okay, maybe he's been stressing about it a little bit.

It’s well- it’s just this an entire new place and the campus is huge. He’s visited a few times now to start getting a layout, but he knows it’s going to take weeks before he can find his way around with ease. It’s nice to start on that when no one else is here yet. It gives Remy space and he feels a little bit less self-conscious.

(It’s stupid that he feels self-conscious at all, he shouldn’t, but he does, so there’s that).

Kai and him get their dorm set up and decorated as well.

Or well- it’s mostly Remy setting things up while Kai comments snarkily from the corner that the bed doesn’t line up perfectly. (They had to move everything a bit to make space for Cha-Cha). Remy doesn’t really mind because it’s nice to see Kai relaxing. He seemed uncomfortable and unsure when he admitted that he couldn’t do any of the heavy lifting, so Remy takes the return to teasing as a good sign.

They decorate the dorm next and it’s fun and it’s easy and Remy’s really thinking he’s found a friend in Kai. 

Then Kai falls silent.

“Kai?” Remy asks when he stops making comments every two seconds.

“Yeah?”

“You good?”

Kai hesitates and Remy frowns. Remy’s about to ask a follow up question, but Kai beats him to speaking.

“Hey so, I brought two pride flags. I was hoping I could put them up in our room.”

Oh.

“Of course,” Remy says easily.

“I- yeah?”

“Yeah. Kai we’re literally in gender-inclusive dorming right now. But I mean, even if we weren't, yeah of course you can,” Remy insists, voice firm and even.

“Okay,” Kai says. He relaxes. “Okay.”

The tension in the room evaporates and Remy breathes out.

“Which flags?” he asks, curiosity peaking.

“Trans and demiboy,” Kai tells him.

Remy didn’t know you could be both trans and a demiboy. But that's probably better to google than to bug Kai with right now.

“I didn’t know there was a demiboy flag,” he admits.

The comment seems to perk Kai up and he explains to him the dark grey-grey-blue-white-and reverse of the demiboy flag. The two of them hang the flags up together. 

Kai gives him a hard time about hanging one up the wrong way and it takes Remy a solid minute to remember that both flags are reversible. He flips Kai off and scowls. Kai just laughs. The conversation turns casual once more.

“Oh!” Kai says at one point, moving quickly to sift through a bag on the other side of the room, “I got a thing and you can tell me if you hate the thing and if so I can return it, but you said that you have some light perception so…” he trails off.

There was a pause for a moment where neither of them said anything.

“Thoughts?” Kai eventually asks again.

“On?” 

“Ah man- you can’t see it?”

“Don’t know if we’ve talked about this yet but I’m blind actually,” Remy snarks back.

Kai groans.

“No just- okay catch.”

“Please tell me you’re not about to chuck something at a blind person Kai.”

The object lands softly next to him on the bed. Remy doesn’t know if that was intentional, or if Kai just failed to hit him. Either way Remy sighs and picks it up. The object is a box and has a thin circular button at one corner, but he still has no clue what it is.

“They’re fairy lights,” Kai explains, “Sorry. You said that you liked light and I thought you’d be able to see it because you said that you could see light.”

“Some light,” Remy says. He holds it up to his eyes and now he can barely see little tiny specs of light. “And I can kinda see it now. Is the box completely clear?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Uh…”

“I told you I liked light. You went out of your way to get fairy lights for our dorm. It’s an awesome idea, not your fault my eyes don’t work.”

“Yeah but the gift kind of failed.”

“Well if you like them we can still keep them. And if not- well you said you can return them? Depending on where they’re from we can see if we can find fairy lights I can actually see,” Remy suggests.

“Oh my gosh we could- there was a ton of options.”

Remy nods and stands up.

“Okay, where too?”

“Right now?” Kai asks.

“I mean it depends on where you got these, but yeah? I mean we have the time.”

That they do, now that they’ve mostly finished.

“Target. So there’s gotta be one locally.”

They spend a few minutes online, figure out the address, and then Remy’s getting up to go. He gets Cha-Cha in her harness and grabs his things before opening the door for a swing and waiting for Kai. Kai joins him at the door, hesitates for a second, and then grabs something right next to the door. At first Remy thinks it’s the bag, but Kai’s already holding that. Remy exits after him.

“I have a cane,” Kai says quietly. Which okay- that was the object by the door.

“Okay,” Remy says. “Do you want to take the bus?”

“No.”

Remy listens. He knows if it were him, he would just want somebody to listen.

“Okay. Where’s the Target?” 

Kai takes the lead and they’re off.

The Target is massive. But also Remy’s depth perception is shit so maybe it’s that but he’s pretty sure this is the largest Target he’s ever seen. By a lot.

“Holy shit this place is huge,” Kai remarks.

Remy murmurs his agreement. He hadn’t really known what living in a college town would mean. He’s starting to think he understands.

They make a beeline for the fairy lights which take up almost an entire aisle. They mess around, pressing all the buttons to light them up and see what their options are.

“I can’t see any of these,” Remy admits after a while, “The lights in here are too bright. But brighter and bigger is better, so if you find something that-”

“Remy there’s rainbow ones. Come here, come here, they’re shaped like rainbows.”

“We’re getting those.”

“They’re not that bright.”

“I literally do not care.”

They get the rainbow-shaped ones.

They head back- both a bit too excited about the rainbow-shaped lights to be considered socially acceptable. But also fuck socially acceptable so whatever. They’re adults and they can enjoy fairy lights. Step off.

Kai and him are talking when he suddenly stops and leaves Remy’s side.

“Hi,” Kai says, “Are you moving in today too?”

“I- uh- yeah- hi,” a person stutters.

“Oh cool! I’m Kai. He/they pronouns but he right now.” The jingling noise that follows is indication that Kai holds up his pronouns necklace. “And this is my roommate.”

It takes a second to long for Remy to realize he’s supposed to introduce himself. 

“I’m Remy,” he says, turning to face the stranger. “He/him.” 

Something inside of him clenches hard when he says those words. Clenches hards, grips his heart, and burns. It burns so much, choking Remy that he almost misses the strangers next words.

“I’m Elliot,” the now not-stranger says, “They/them.”

“Nice to meet you Elliot,” Kai says.

They don’t get must further in conversation because another person speaks up.

“El, hon? Who’s this?”

“I’m Kai, he/they, he right now. This is Remy, he/him. We just moved in here across the hall.”

“Oh you get to do that whole move in early stuff too? You’re blind, right?”

The second question is obviously directed at Remy, so he answers both.

“Yeah and yeah.”

“Huh. Well I’m Mitchell, I’m his boyfriend.”

A boyfriend who just misgendered their partner apparently. But Elliot doesn't say anything and Remy just met them so he doesn’t say anything either.

“Uh, nice to meet you,” Remy offers. Kai offers the same pleasantries.

“Okay. Well Elliot, we should get to finish moving you in. You still have a lot of stuff and if you’re going to make me help you I don’t want to be here all day.”

“If you need to go you can,” Elliot says.

“What, you trying to get rid of me already? Plus come on, you’re not going to be able to do it all yourself. And you’re wasting time. Let’s go.”

“Okay,” Elliot says, “Yeah.”

“He’ll talk to you later,” Mitchell tells the two of them.

“I- Right,” Kai says, “Well, Elliot I- we’re just down the hall. 204. So, anytime, pop by, yeah?”

“Yeah alright I-”

“Yeah he might, bye.”

“Elliot seems nice. But Mitchell doesn’t seem like the nicest guy,” Kai comments when the other two have presumably exited earshot. Remy gives a shrug and a slight nod in response. He pulls out his key and finds the lock on their door before pushing it open with a swing.

“Fairy lights?” he asks.

“Fairy lights,” Kai agrees.

Remy still ends up not being able to see them all that well- though they were certainly better than the first set. But rainbows, so he counts it as a win.

When they’ve finished decorating their room, Remy relaxes on his bed and pulls out his phone. He plugs in his headphones and opens google. Kai had both the trans and demiboy flags. Remy wants to know what that means.

He researches a lot about being non-binary and trans and he reads a lot about the exclusionist who demand you have to be identify as binary and experience crippling gender dysphoria to be considered trans. Everyone else is just faking or special or being dramatic. He thinks of Kai and he frowns. He ignores the exclusionists.

He finds celebrations of being trans and non-binary and being happy that way. He finds non-binary people who consider themselves trans and others who don’t. He finds the range of non-binary from androgynous presentation to falling to the extreme sides of masculine or feminine. He learns that people can also be assholes about that, about how many people expect non-binary people to look “watered down male.” He learns that non-binary looks like anything and everything. He finds people who are trans that use all sorts of labels. He finds people who are trans and are binary. He finds people who are trans with all levels of fluctuating dysphoria, stages of transition- including not transitioning at all, and more.

He learns that there’s so many more ways to be trans than he previously thought.

He hates it.

He hates it because it means something to him, means something to him more than just being an ally. 

The transgender umbrella is amazing and beautiful and there’s so many people who have so many experiences, some they share, some they don’t. It’s a wonderful community and it’s gorgeous and Remy-

He’s angry.

He’s so fucking angry. Because he’s Remy and he’s a boy and he’s eighteen and he’s lived this way his entire life and this is who he is he’s Remy and he’s a cis guy and-

And what if he isn’t?

He squeezes his phone tightly in his hand. Hard enough apparently that Kai asks if anything’s wrong. He starts to answer no when he gets a phone call. From his dad.

He hits ignore angrily and stands up, shoving his phone in his pocket.

“I’m going for a walk,” he announces, and barely takes the time to grab his shoes before he’s slamming the door behind him. He doesn’t even bother with Cha-Cha, grabbing his cane instead.

-

That first week goes fast and soon enough everyone else moves in. They meet a few people, and start talking to Elliot. When Mitchell’s not around Elliot’s really funny. When Mitchell is around they short of shut down and Remy hates it. A little fire burns in his chest each time it happens. 

They go to the freshman movie night and both Elliot and Kai are already learning to give a shitty description of what’s going on on screen and they all laugh and the people next to them hiss at them to be quiet. It’s okay. It’s nice.

Before long, classes start and Remy remembers how frustrating it can all be.

He’s been working with disability services since he committed to the school. Over the years he’s learned that early is almost always better, because everything just takes time and then there’s issues and delays,  it’s a long process. 

It’s also Remy’s first time doing this alone and he makes mistakes and he feels like an idiot and he can’t help but hate his dad a little bit because he’s been asking to do some of this himself for years now, to get used to it, get some practice. His dad had always refused and now Remy is woefully underprepared. 

It reminds himself of when he was first going blind. When everything was new and confusing and he constantly felt lost and alone. 

It’s been years since he felt like that. 

He doesn’t like feeling like that. 

He figures the accommodations out in the end and gets the things he needs to set up. Note taker, permission to record, extra time, accessibility devices approved, and requests to all his professors to have things ready and accessible. It should all be good to go. But, there’s of course hiccups because there always is. And a week into school, he still doesn’t have notes from one of his classes.

It’s absolutely infuriating.

Because now he has a paper to write and he has to listen to the entirety of three separate lectures to find the things he needs.

It sucks and it’s unfair and time consuming and Remy hates it. He clenches a fist as he pauses the recording and goes back once more. 

It’s something so small but it makes him so goddamn frustrated.

He plays it again but he can’t hear it this time because at that exact moment Kai laughs from his corner of the room where he’s skyping his girlfriend.

He pauses the recording.

“Can you be quieter?” he hisses out, “I’m trying to write a paper.”

“Yeah. Sorry Rem. Want me to put in headphones?”

It’s a nice offer.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Kai agrees. He gasps a bit when he stands, pauses for a moment. Remy doesn’t restart his recording and listens, slightly concerned. But Kai moves after a moment, grabbing his headphones from the desk next to Remy. He’s limping slightly.

When he returns to his bed and has the headphones in, Remy takes a breath and presses play.

And pauses a moment later because Kai’s a bit too loud again. It’s unfair- Remy knows it is- because Kai’s really not that loud. But it’s loud enough to be distracting and Remy cannot deal with this tonight.

“Can you shut up?” he snaps.

“...I ...Uh?”

Remy is so angry.

“Whatever. Forget it,” he huffs. He saves his work and shuts his laptop with a snap. He shoves it, his braille display, and the recorder in his bag. He grabs his phone and shoves it in his pocket. Grabbing his bag he heads for the door. He barely spends the time to get Cha-Cha in her harness.

“Remy- come on- wait-”

“I’m going out,” he hisses. The door slams behind him. It seems to be doing that a lot lately.

“Oh hey Remy,” Elliot says almost the moment he’s out the door. 

“I’m going to the library,” Remy grumbles and moves past them. 

“Okay,” Elliot says, running a few paces to catch up with him, “Can I join you? I have this thing for religions and-”

“No. You can’t join me,” Remy snarls, and pulls away. 

Elliot stops, stumbling for words behind him. Remy leaves them behind. He doesn’t feel bad. He doesn’t.

He goes to the library and finds a corner that’s empty. He sets his things up and tries to focus. 

He still can’t. 

He had to keep rewinding and replaying the lecture because he still doesn’t have the notes even though he was told he’d start receiving them a week ago. He checked again the other day and he was told he’d definitely have them by today. 

He doesn’t have the notes. 

He doesn’t know what to do. 

He’s mad and he’s angry and he’s frustrated and he’s so pissed and he thinks it’s a bit extreme but definitely not unreasonable. He hates this. Hates it. 

He used to hate being blind. Over the years he’s learned that’s not the part that frustrates him. It was scary at the time, sure. But losing his sight wasn't the upsetting part- the upsetting part was being in a world who wasn’t willing to meet his needs. A world that was certainly able to meet his needs, or attempt to if they really couldn’t, but wasn’t willing to even try.

It’s ableism that he hates, not being blind.

With a sigh he packs up his things. He’s not getting anything else done tonight. He pulls out his phone and messes around with it a bit, trying to ward off the creeping frustrations that are starting to overwhelm him. He feels choked up and he’s not sure why. 

Then he gets a call.

For a millisecond he thinks it might be Kai. 

God he was a dick to Kai wasn’t he? If Kai’s calling him Remy can apologize. He can make things right and things will be fine. It’s fine. 

It’s his dad. 

Remy chucks his phone. 

It’s extreme and so fucking stupid but he’s suddenly furious and he doesn’t know what to do about it. His phone goes skittering across the floor and the two people quietly murmuring near him fall silent. Remy sighs and hates himself a little bit.

He takes a breath.

It doesn't help.

He takes another.

It doesn’t help. Nothing’s helping.

He has Cha-Cha get his phone.

When she brings it back to him he checks it for cracks and then goes to his contacts. He finds the one he needs and double taps to call.

The phone rings twice before it’s answered.

“Hey,” Remy saus, “I- can I spend the night at your place?”

“Yes,” is Virgil’s immediate response, “Are you safe? Do you want a ride? I’m not home right now but I can text Patton.”

Remy checks the time. It’s not too late. The cool air will probably do him good anyways.

“I’m safe,” he confirms, “No to the ride. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay,” Virgil says. He pauses, “Love you Remy.”

Something burns in his throat.

“Okay. Okay yeah,” Remy chokes out. He hangs up and blinks back tears, refusing to cry. He wants to scream. He doesn’t- everything’s just so much right now and he doesn’t know what he’s feeling anymore.

He packs his things up. Grabs Cha-Cha. Heads to Virgil’s apartment.

On his way there a random person grabs him by his shoulder and asks him if he needs help. He grits out a terse “no.” He gets a “well you don’t have to be rude about it. I was trying to help!” Remy’s teeth grit further, making an odd little screeching noise and causing pain to run all throughout his mouth. He doesn’t risk saying anything more, and just pushes past the stranger.

He knocks on the door when he arrives. He still has a key, but doesn’t really feel like digging through his bag. 

It’s Patton who greets him.

Remy shuffles off his shoes at the door, mind blurring. He hears Patton say something about Virgil and the library, he should've texted you- but Remy misses all the details.

“Hey Remy, are you okay?”

Remy is not.

He’s going to tell Patton he’s fine. He is. He promises he is.

He doesn’t end up saying that, but even he isn’t expecting what he says next.

“Patton, how did you know you were trans?”

“Oh,” Patton says, “Oh.” 

And that’s when Remy finally bursts into tears.

~~~

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[cr0wprince]

Now I’m afraid my name might be brought up though. I did some shitty things with her when we were friends. It’s been five to almost seven years (five since the last time I spoke to her and almost seven since I met her). I was 17-18 in the time I knew her and I’m very easily influenced by the people around me, but I’m ultimately responsible for my actions. I saw another ex-friend of hers brought up (not by name) and now I’m kind of scared.

I’m gonna be a little vague and my memory isn’t the best (I try to block things out as a defense mechanism), but I’m going to try to recount it, just for my own benefit. I’m not even going to name her, but will refer to her as LR. I don’t think anyone cares tbh lmao

I met her in 2014. It was probably February or March, so I was 17. We were both cosplaying Attack on Titan, very big at the time. Someone posted in a con Facebook group that they made a cosplay group for the area/con for Attack on Titan. I only had my jeans, shirt, jacket (that I made), wig, and glasses for Hanji at that time and I posted a picture, “I’m not too confident in how I look, but here’s my cosplay.” and she commented that it was a good cosplay. We went from there, started chatting, and made plans to meet at the con. She was 19 at the time, of it really matters, but we were still age appropriate friends.

The con comes by. I didn’t wear Attack on Titan the first day, felt kind of left out when we started meeting other people from the group. She’s always been a social butterfly (I think it’s an attention thing more than she actually enjoys it tbh, but I might be biased??) and I’ve been really shy about approaching people after being bullied in middle school. The next two days I wore my unfinished SNK cosplay, didn’t have the belts, but had a fun time.

She ran a panel and promised that I could be Hanji in it and let someone else be Hanji as well, and this person got more attention because she was more outgoing, which kind of bummed me out, but at 17, I was a very jealous cosplayer and would get jealous about people cosplaying the same thing as me. Not a healthy mindset, but it is what it is and you grow from it.

She had told me she was in pre-med (I’m going to remind you she’s 19 at this point, not unusual but it’s what she tells me next which is the questionable part) and that she’s going to start on the medical stuff the next year. I’m 17 and naive and don’t question it. I know now pre-med takes four years. This is an example of her lying to me/holding things in.

We continued being friends with the SNK group, had meetups at a local park, and whatever. She lamented to me about not being able to go to Colossalcon because she couldn’t afford it or something and my parents pay for cons, so I talked them into letting her stay with us. I had started cosplaying Ymir to her Christa and I did have a cry privately to LR when another girl cosplayed Ymir to another girl’s Christa because the other Christa felt left out by me being LR’s Ymir. I felt jealous they got more attention, again, not a healthy mindset, but I was 17 and convinced I was going to be a professional cosplayer. I know now it’s a bad mindset. LR took my meltdown the wrong way, which I’ll get to later.

It wasn’t long after, maybe a couple months. She had stopped hanging out with the friend I had met her with at the con, which I realize now is kind of sus, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time. But anyway, a couple months later at most, she makes a post in the Facebook group that she’s been feeling left out of the SNK group. A few people from it got together to talk about it, she finds out, and I get pissed. I make a big post in the group about how they’re purposely leaving her out. I’m loyal to a fault, and sometimes it blinds me. It splits the group, they still keep together, but LR and I separate from them.

We move on to different series and start doing cosplay photos. It’s something I wanted to do for a while. She’s a little hesitant, but I hype it up and she eventually gets into it. At Otakon, she asks mentions if I’d be okay with her cosplaying Juvia (a big comfort character of mine, and one I’d failed to finish a cosplay of that con, but I’d gotten Levy done, which still worked with her Lucy) and I’m thrown off guard. I tell her no lmao. I mean really though, what would I do? But it’s important later.

I have big plans. I don’t always finish my big plans. I want to do a ton of different cosplays and she feeds into me. She finishes things while I normally don’t. I realize I shouldn’t have agreed to do so many, but also, the one’s she made aren’t unwearable? She can cosplay without me matching? But it’s something she internalizes.

We book lots of shoots. It’s fun! We don’t get the most expensive photographers (we’re 18 and 20 at the time) but it’s fun. There’s a particular photographer I wanted to work with and she books her since she’s dealing with it at this point since I have a lot of anxiety talking to people. By the time the con rolls around, my costume didn’t work out the way I wanted and my skirt is held up with safety pins. It shows in the photos, so does her back acne. She goes on a tangent on her Facebook cosplay page about how unprofessional the photographer is, how she doesn’t edit photos for anyone but her friends. I, unfortunately, share it. At that time, neither of us have a big following (I still don’t, she doesn’t really either, only 3,700 after she remade, but did have almost 10k at one point), so it doesn’t go far. The photographer and friends stick up for the photographer and it doesn’t go anywhere luckily.

I’m falling deeper into depression at this point. I’m not finishing projects I’m supposed to do with her, messages are spotty on my end. We still do a couple of cons together. The next con of the first we met at comes around, I don’t have anything done, I’m mortified. I skip a whole day. It’s in driving distance so it’s not like I was wasting a whole hotel day. She gets photos solo. It seems fine.

She messages me one day that her parents kicked her out. Something about a fight over her mom saying minimum wage workers don’t work as hard and LR snapping back. Her parents were really nice the couple of times I met them, which isn’t always indicative of how someone really is, but now I feel in my gut that there had to be something more. It feels like petty reason. She moves into her grandparents (and further selfies match that, so it seems like it had to be bad if she never went back). She messages me this and I’m thrown so off guard. Yeah, we called each other best friends. We didn’t talk to many other people as far as I knew at that point, but I had no idea what to say. It’s bad on my part, but I didn’t answer her for a week.

She didn’t message me or anything, didn’t delete me off Facebook, but vague posted me there about being there for people when they won’t be there for you, and people were hyping her up. I realized it might’ve been about me. I called her crying, terrified. Sent her messages. I don’t exactly remember what transpired, but did make up.

There was a point she told me she was dropping pre-med to become an accountant because it took a year and she wanted to focus on cosplay. Again, stupid 18yo me believed that that made sense and was like, “Oh okay!”

We went to a couple more cons, I’m pretty sure she was using me. We make plans for Youmacon, but I don’t message her for like a week in September of 2015. She asks if I’m okay (the only time) I tell her I’m doing really bad. We don’t talk until close to the con. I admit to her that I was thinking of admitting myself to the psych ward it was that bad, but though I didn’t tell her that, it’s ultimately a very hard, very personal choice. (I made it in May and it’s not an easy choice.) She tears me a new one, saying I should’ve went, that I was using her for companionship. She said she had plans to go to another con?? So the way I see it, she cared more about going to a con than anything else. She never checked in on me after I told her I was doing bad, just to take my time.

She has a new bff at this point. This is going to be so cruel, but her new friend isn’t as put together, which is fine! Cosplay is for fun! But I mention this because they get photos together. After my obsession with becoming a professional cosplayer, LR got into that mindset too. I’m so fucking sure that she used this other girl in photos to look better next to. The difference is so obvious in photos.

I make a cosplay that LR cosplayed when we were friends. I’m so proud. I haven’t finished anything in months. I cosplay a couple of things she did, but we were friends at one point, we like the same series, and there are a lot of big series. It’s bound to happen.

She vagues me on Instagram. She continues to stalk me on there (and I did her, not proud of it, but I’ll admit it). She posts things about how an ex friend had a breakdown over her having other friends (when I confided in her my jealousy over the Ymir/Christa duo), how I wouldn’t let her cosplay Juvia lmao (this still gets me. What would I do? Break your arm? You asked me on the spot and I was uncomfortable.). There was one Juvia cosplay post that I mentioned I had lost weight because while my uncle was dying, I wasn’t eating. I was helping with cleaning his house and I just wasn’t fucking eating. She took that as a jab about her because she has self image issues. There was also a big post she made how she KNEW I was cosplaying all the same things as her to make her jealous and to make her insecure, mentioning me by name even. I reported it and it got taken down.

I’d heard things through the grapevine. How she started shit in the Fate community and she was afraid of being beat up at Katsucon’s public photoshoot. How she tried to make a Love Live group, but when two girls couldn’t afford it and they would no longer have all nine, she threw a fit and cancelled the whole group. I’d also heard about her making a fuss over photos she got back when a cosplayer’s grandparent was dying. I stayed away after like a year, but a couple of people who knew me that knew I was friends with her would tell me things.

I wasn’t the best person, either. I’ll take responsibility for that. I wish I could apologize to the people I hurt while friends with her, but I no longer remember their names. I was a dumb teenager. I still get swept up in the people around me and get carried away when the people I are about are hurt. Maybe it’s something I need to work on. But, I ultimately don’t think she’s grown. I don’t think she’s gotten better. I think she’s only gotten worse over the year.

I’m not proofreading. There might be more, but it was a lot to go through, but I wanted to get it out. I hope the read more works, but I’m gonna throw on a long post warning too. If you read this, thank you, by the way. I just felt like I had to get it out.

[chemorygunko]

24 Reasons Why a Zombie Apocalypse would be better than the Events of 2020 so far

View the full infographic at https://www.lifecoachestoolbox.com/index.php/24-reasons-why-a-zombie-apocalypse-would-be-better-than-the-events-of-2020-so-far

2020 has certainly been a year of surprises! There’s no denying that.

To be honest though, I’m pretty sure many of us were secretly holding out for a zombie apocalypse, if the TV shows and movies of the past few years are anything to judge by!

So I asked myself, what would this be like if this was a zombie apocalypse? And why would a zombie apocalypse be better than the events of the world we’re currently facing?

Here are 24 Reasons Why a Zombie Apocalypse would be better than the Events of 2020 so far.

1. You know what the problem is

Look it just doesn’t get clearer than a zombie charging at you. Now we’re just in limbo. We can sense something is wrong, but we can’t entirely put our finger on what it is. And we dare not go looking, in case we’re labelled conspiracy theorists!

2. You know who the enemy is

Again this is clear. It’s the dead, decaying, smelly piece of flesh trying to eat you for breakfast. Now your enemies are everywhere… the black person you’ve always been friends with, cancel culture, clients, your boss, the outrage mob. Hell, a statue could fall on you! As if potentially dying to this novel virus wasn’t bad enough already.

3. You know what to do

Run. That’s what you do. Never mind the photo albums, make-up bag or laptop: you run and get away from the zombies.

4. You understand the urgency

What is that? A zombie. When do we run? NOW! It’s easy… see zombie? RUN!

5. It happens quickly, not a in long drawn-out limbo

Once you have the first zombie, the others follow quickly. And every guy that dies on your side, automatically joins the other team. Within a short while, no more than a few days - maybe weeks - the plague will have spread far and wide already. The bodies will literally be piling up in the streets. Well, shuffling up and down the streets to be more accurate.

6. The challenges are clear

Avoid the zombies. Find safe shelter. Find food. Keep people alive. No one’s going to be worried about their comfort, their appearance, or their stock portfolio. Now there’s only one clear objective: stay alive and keep as many of your people alive as possible.

7. You know when to be scared

When the zombies are coming at you; if you’re in an unsafe space; if there’s nowhere secure to hide yourselves. You also know to be cautious and that perimeter guards aren’t optional. Neither are guns. It’s kill or be killed.

8. You know who to be scared of

It’s them versus us all the way… and it’s clear who the “them” and “us” are. That doesn’t mean that no one on your team will get drafted to the other squad, but the moment they turn, it will be obvious.

9. You know who the enemy is

The enemies are the zombies… not your awesome next door neighbour, or the colleague you consider a friend. Now, cancel culture & outrage mob are threatening people’s survival in a way that doesn’t even give them a fighting chance to survive.

10. It’s obvious when someone is ill

It’s the trying to bite and viciously attack you that gives it away. Nowadays however, someone sneezing from a pollen allergy could be perceived as anything.

11. It’s obvious they can’t be helped

You can’t help the zombie - it’s going to bite you. So you’re not tempted to. Okay yes, there are those crazies in all the zombie lore, who keep their partners or kids after they’ve turned; but in reality, most people would be way too grossed out by the idea of being eaten, or having a dead, decaying, smelly piece of flesh around.

12. Zombies are clearly sick

Nowadays, you never know if the other person is only a little bit sick, but maybe you could die? Maybe you’re in the 0,2% for which this is fatal? All this talk of “asymptomatic” carriers has only raised the fear levels so much more! Also - no more “is the virus real?” debates!

13. You won’t be punished for helping another human being

You will be punished for helping in the current crisis however! If the person is a little bit sick, or even really sick, but can get better, then shouldn’t you help them? It makes sense that you’d say yes, but instead we get quarantined for exposure or contact. Put into a facility for at least 14 days. With zombies you know you can’t help and so you won’t be tempted to try. Once they’ve been bitten, they’re done.

14. You won’t be punished for hanging out with friends

In fact, friends are encouraged as a necessary means of survival. Now, if you’re simply in the vicinity of someone who is suspected to have Coldemort (the-illness-that-shall-not-be-named), you can earn 14 days in quarantine.

15. You can get a machete

When the zombie really annoys you, chop its head off. It’s that easy. Apparently we’ll get into trouble if we do that in the current climate. More’s the pity ;)

16. You get to be badass!

Seriously, who doesn’t want to walk around with two zombies tied to chains, à la Michone? Instead, we’re all just sitting at home, waiting for our governments to steal more of our liberties.

17. Everyone would be on the same page

You don’t have to try and convince anyone of what’s going on. People are clear: zombies bad. See zombie? RUN!

18. You’d be safe on the Internet

If the Internet was still running, you be safe on it. Now simply liking a post can set you in the sights of cancel culture and the outrage mob.

19. Nobody would be trying to vaccinate or chip us

Yes, you’d be fleeing a horde of bloodthirsty zombies, but at least your eternal soul would not be in peril. Also, some people are really scared of injections!

20. No more masks!

Masks don’t protect against bites. And the zombie virus isn’t airborne. We’d finally all be able to breathe freely again! Not sure how good the rotting corpses would smell though.

21. People would social distance voluntarily

You wouldn’t have to ask people twice to stay away from the infected. Social distancing, in this instance, would take care of itself.

22. You wouldn’t still have to work

One of the clear things we thought the end of the world would bring, would be an end to the 9-to-5 grind. But no luck there hey! So in the midst of all the craziness, you still have work stuff to deal with - and now business is even harder to find.

23. You’d have less relatives

Yes, they might all have turned into zombies, but at least your relatives won’t be moving into your house because they’ve all lost their jobs.

24. We’d finally realize money means nothing

We wouldn’t be talking about the worst recession ever, 300-million extra people dying of hunger, and millions of job losses. It would be tough to be on the run yes, but in a way, what we’re facing in the next few months is going to be way tougher.

[hymn2000]

Ideal Confusion - MCU AU Fanfic - C1

(Title subject to change)

Story summary: Giving into the constant pressure from the press, Tony decides to put a rest to the rumours that Peter is his biological son - once and for all.

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series

Warnings/themes: family, family stuff, adoption, DNA test(s), pressure, peer pressure, social issues, mentions of alcoholism, mental health problems, potentially some minor medical inaccuracies

You can also find me on AO3

Chapter 1 - Disturbing The Peace I've Found

-

Tony picked up the phone.

“Hello, Tony Stark speaking”

“Mr Stark! I’m a representative of Hardcastle DNA Testing, and we’d like to offer you a free-”

Tony slammed the phone down. Almost as soon as he did, his mobile started ringing. Tony answered it. It was his press manager, Marco.

“Hi”

“Hi Tony. Listen, I’ve had people on the phone all morning because of that story last week. You know forty-five different DNA companies have offered you free or discounted tests now. Forty-five! I’m surprised there’s that many around”

“There’s probably hundreds” Tony grumbled. “I’m not interested”

“Yeah, I know; that’s what I’ve been telling them all. I still thought you should know about it”

“Just hang up on the next one. Or tell them to piss off”

Marco laughed. “Duly noted”

“Are you any closer to figuring out who’s responsible for the story?”

“Nope. I think it’s just something some apprentice in the news room came up with, trying to break into the industry. You know, dragging up an old rumour and bigging it up. I’ll keep you posted”

“Thanks”

“Hey, dad?” Peter said, coming into the kitchen. “Can I-”

“Hold on, kiddo. Can’t you see I’m on the phone?” Tony sighed. “Listen, Marco, I’ve gotta go: family stuff”

“Sure. Talk to you later, Tony”

“Talk to you later”

Tony hung up and put his phone down.

“Alright kiddo, what’s up?”

“Can I go out with Flo and Millie tonight? Macy’s in trouble so she can’t go out but there’s this fair on tonight that the rest of us wanna go to. It opens at like, five, so I’m not gonna be back super later or anything. So, can I go?”

Tony sighed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, sweetheart”

“Well, why not?”

“Because the press are all over us at the moment, you especially”

“Yeah, but they’re not gonna try anything at the fair, are they?”

“They might” Tony said. “Remember what I said? There’s no such thing as an off-duty journalist. If one sees you, chances are they’ll chase you for comments or confirmation or whatever. It’s a current story, cos of that article that came out last week”

“That article’s pure slander though!” Peter said. “Come on dad; let me go! It’s not like I’m gonna say anything to any reporters. Little Miss Selective-Mutism, remember?”

“Since when have you been Little Miss?” Tony shook his head and sighed. “I’m not sure, kiddo. I don’t want you getting hounded”

“...Please?”

Tony looked at him sorrowfully. He reached out, touching the boys face gently.

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart”

Peter looked up at him, trying to look as little and sad as possible. He could see Tony dithering. 

“Stop with the puppy dog eyes!” 

Tony tried not to crack.

“Tony?” Loki appeared in the doorway. “Is everything ok?”

Tony looked at him. “Yeah. Yeah. Peter wants to go out tonight, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. He’ll just get hounded by the press if they see him”

“That’s sensible” Loki said.

“But dad! Dads! I can look after myself. I won’t talk to anyone other than my friends and customer service staff, ok? And I won’t mention to article at all, I promise. Come on, please let me go!”

“No, your father’s right” Loki said. “It’s not a good idea for you to go out unaccompanied, not when we’re in the public eye this much”

“Well, why don’t one of you come with us then, if being unaccompanied is the big problem?”

“I’m too busy, sweetheart” Tony said. “I’ve got too much to do tonight”

Peter looked at Loki.

“I’m seeing Pepper tonight” Loki said. “It’s been on the calendar for too long for me to cancel now. We’ve already had to rearrange it twice”

Peter sighed heavily. “How about we make a deal? If I-”

“Peter, no” Tony said. “The answer’s no, and that’s that. I’m sorry, chick”

“What if I can find a chaperone?”

“Peter, stop it” Tony said. “I’m sorry, but you’re not going out. Not until everything calms down in the news”

Peter knew when it was a waste of breath arguing a point. He sighed heavily, and swallowed hard.

“Fine. I’m gonna go and text Flo”

“...I hate having to say no to him” Tony said once Peter was out of earshot. “He was gonna cry just then, did you notice?”

“It’s for the best” Loki said, quickly turning to switch the kettle on. “It’s safer this way”

“Mm...” Tony sighed heavily. “Poor little Peter. I’ve never known anything other than being famous, but since I’ve been a dad, I’ve really hated this part of it. Why can’t they just leave my family alone?”

“Easy: it makes for a good story” Loki said. “That’s all they care about. Even if every word of an article is fake, people will still read it if it’s got someone high-profile in it”

“Marco rang a minute ago” Tony said. “Said we’ve had forty-five different companies offering DNA tests for free or for cheap”

“They need to wind their necks in. How do they find the numbers?”

“I guess people have enough inside sources to find what they’re looking for” Tony checked his watch. “I’m behind schedule again because of this bloody thing. It’s incredible how much impact that bloody article has had”

“It was essentially just photos, wasn’t it?”

Tony nodded. “Yeah, mainly. Photos comparing me and the kid, and a few comments about the adoption being a front”

“Just ignore it”

“I’m trying to, but it’s getting harder: we have this sort of ‘scandal’ far too often. Basically every interview I go to now, I get asked if he’s my biological child. It’s getting tiring”

“Why not just do the test to shut them up? There’s nothing to lose, especially since so many places are offering them for free” Loki suggested.

“What, and give them the satisfaction? No way!” Tony scoffed. “Besides, they’d probably fiddle the results just to get a big newspaper scandal going”

Loki shook his head slightly, pouring boiling water into his mug. “Well, we’ll just have to continue to ignore it then. Soon enough some other celebrity will do something outrageous like go out wearing make up or fall over on stage, and everyone will forget about it”

“I hope so. I’d pay the Kardashians to leak another sex tape just to get the press off my back at this point. I don’t want to have to keep letting the kid down. He’s fed up enough as it is without this kind of thing going on”

“He’ll be ok. He’s a resilient little thing; he’ll bounce back soon enough”

“Mm, I hope so” Tony sighed. “What time are you meeting Pepper?”

“Seven” Loki said. “So I’ve got plenty of time to catch up on that mountain of washing down in the laundry room”

“Yeah... Well, I’d better get on with all these emails. It’s got really out of hand recently”

“I’m not surprised. Well” Loki went and got the milk out of the fridge. “Good luck with it. I’d better be getting on too”

Tony nodded slightly. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by his phone going off. It was Marco again. He sighed heavily. It was going to be a long afternoon.

-

Peter wasn’t in a great mood that evening. Flo and Millie were going to the fair without him, which he supposed was fine, but it still made him feel a bit upset and left out. He was annoyed with Loki for going out, and annoyed with Tony for being busy, and at both of them for saying no. He knew he was being unreasonable, but he couldn’t help what he felt. His parents had totally freaked at the latest article. Peter didn’t really get it, because it wasn’t too unlike what they’d seen before. But something about it had really shaken them. It wasn’t just them either:- Peter’s aunts and uncles seemed to be in a bit of a spin about it too, and the phone had barely stopped ringing since it was published. Plus, the news was discussing it a lot now too, both on the television and the radio, and it was all over social media too. Peter wasn’t entirely sure why this particular article had blown up in the way it had, but it was a little confusing.

But even so, he didn’t see why he had to essentially be grounded because of it. He’d long since learnt not to talk to reporters, and due to his selective mutism, he physically couldn’t a lot of the time anyway. Which begged the question; why didn’t his parents trust him? Or, why were they so worried? Maybe they were just stressed. Or maybe they were just being overprotective. Tony had been a bit funny with him over the festive season, but they were back to being close now, mostly. Peter knew they were still upset about Loki’s infertility and the subsequent loss of any IVF baby. Maybe that’s why they were being overprotective and trying to protect him from something that wasn’t really a threat, because he was probably the only ‘baby’ they’d ever have. He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He didn’t suppose it made a difference anyway.

-

Peter gave Tony a shake, and Tony jumped awake.

“Sorry” Peter said, taking a step back.

“It’s ok, it’s ok” Tony mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “I fell asleep”

“Yeah...”

“I haven’t been sleeping too well lately” Tony said. 

He tapped his laptop, waking it up and unlocking it. He looked at the list of emails still to be read, and sighed. He closed the laptop and moved it onto the side table.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“Um, I was just wondering what we were gonna do for tea?”

Tony checked his watch. “Oh god, is it that time already? You should’ve woken me up earlier, kiddo”

“I’ve been distracted”

“Oh right. Homework?”

“No, just... Other stuff”

Tony gave him a look. “Nothing dodgy, right?”

Peter gave him a look. Tony laughed slightly and shook his head.

“Alright kiddo. Come here”

Peter stepped closer, and Tony pulled him down onto the sofa, giving him a hug.

“So, what do you fancy for tea?”

“Uh-”

Tony’s phone starting ringing, interrupting them. Tony sighed and answered it.

“Hi, Marco” he monotoned.

“You need to turn on your TV” Marco said firmly. 

“What?” Tony almost squeaked. “Why?”

“Just do it, now. Channel six”

Marco hung up. Tony looked at Peter, and Peter looked at him. Tony reached for the remote and turned the telly on. The news was on, and Tony’s heart started thumping when he saw the photo of himself and Peter behind the presenters.

“Dad-?”

“Sh, Peter”

Tony stared at the TV, listening hard.

“...It would hardly be a surprise” one presenter said. “Tony Stark’s reputation precedes him. For years he was known as a Playboy first and everything else second. Even now he’s married, he’s still known as the ex-womaniser, a man who’s probably been to bed with most every woman in the city, if not the state-”

“Dad, why are we watch-?”

“Sshhh!” Tony hissed, clapping a hand down over Peter’s mouth.

Peter twitched a bit, annoyed, but he couldn’t really pull away as his head was resting on Tony’s shoulder, not really leaving any room for movement. He scowled and looked back at the telly. He didn’t usually watch anything to do with the family on the news, but he supposed he didn’t really have a choice now.

“... People can call it a rumour as much as they want” the other presenter was saying. “But we all know there’s no smoke without fire”

“I’ve heard people argue that there are times people look like complete strangers” the first presenter said. “But I’m more inclined to listen to all those who have seen the similarities between Tony Stark and his ‘adopted’ son and thought them a little too similar for it to just be coincidence”

Presenter two laughed slightly. “Ha! Coincidence! Don’t they say the world is rarely so lazy? There’s a little too much ‘coincidence’ here for my liking. We know the story, don’t we? Stark’s son, he started out as an apprentice at Stark Industries, right? Sure, it’s said that he’s a clever kid, but how did he get picked? There’s no records of public applications, and if Stark was choosing from Midtown, the school Peter was attending at the time, why was he the one to get chosen? He lived in Queens, didn’t he? Nothing special by all accounts. He wouldn’t have been the only eligible candidate at the school, would he?”

“There’s never only one candidate” Presenter one said. “Surely there was a shortlist? But, like the applications, there’s no record of it - no physical record, anyway. Which of course leads us to the conclusion that Tony Stark was searching for an apprentice for S.I independently. Why? Well, I don’t suppose that’s important”

“Unless it was for himself, and not for the company. Personal gain as opposed to professional gain. Maybe the apprenticeship was a front”

“I see where you’re coming from! So perhaps Stark knew who the boy was. Maybe he’d always known the kid was his, and this was a way to get into his life”

Tony held tighter to Peter, so Peter could feel his pulse under Tony’s hand. He whined and struggled, and Tony moved his hand off his mouth and instead rested it on the side of Peter’s face. He rested his chin on his head too, holding him tight, eyes glued to the telly. Peter stayed quiet, watching too, wondering why Tony seemed so worried. Peter didn’t like hearing strangers talk about his life, but he accepted there was nothing he could do about it.

“It’s like a book storyline” Presenter two continued. “Wanting to connect with a long-lost child without uprooting everything the child had grown up to know”

“Of course, the boys parents were dead, weren’t they?” Presenter one said. “He’d been living with his aunt for most of his life. Which begs the question; did the boy know too?”

“Perhaps, and perhaps not. Of course when the aunt died, what was there to stop Stark taking his son? Yes, there’s the family friend story, which lead to the adoption story, but we know there’s been many articles saying it’s a front to try to keep the truth under wraps”

“That’s very true. Of course there’s the subject of names. The boy is Parker-Stark, not plain Stark. Is it an attempt to cover up-” Presenter one paused, a hand to his ear. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been told we’re going to have to stop there; we’re running out of time”

“Of course”

“So” Presenter one looked at the camera. “Is Peter ‘Parker’-Stark the biological child of Tony Stark? Tony Stark himself is yet to comment. Please Tweet or email us if you have anything to say on the matter. Coming up next, your local weather with Ian Macclesfield”

Tony turned off the television. There was a heavy silence. Peter dared wriggle, and Tony clamped an arm over the boys chest and picked up his phone.

“Marco, how the hell could you let this happen?!” he shouted as soon as the man answered. “I thought you were putting a stop to this!”

“I’m doing my best, but it’s not easy to overtake an entire media empire. Every single paper and station in New York is reporting slightly different versions of the same story, not to mention several national stations. I can’t control everyone, Tony” Marco shot back. “You need to think of what you want to stay in a statement. There’s no way anyone is going to let this go without a solid answer: it’s been going on for years now, and it’s a slow news month. Get that; slow news month. So you either need to suck it up or release a statement, because there’s only so much I can do for you”

Tony was quiet for a moment. He let go of Peter and stood up.

“I want my son out of the headlines. I don’t like having my family hassled like this! Why do people care so much anyway?!”

“People care about what the media tells people to care about. It’s a conspiracy; a family scandal; a secret - that’s what people like! It’s like with Elton John: no one really cared when he came out publicly, but when he started going bald, the press wouldn’t leave him alone. It’s low-rent, but that’s what people like. We both know the general public are as thick as two short planks”

“Well what can I do about it?! I’m not Elton John! And anyway, people don’t go on about his hair now! ...Do they?” he looked at Peter.

“No, they left him alone after he started wearing wigs and he told them so. Because then it wasn’t seen as a scandal or a cover up any more” Peter said. 

Tony turned away from him. “Did you hear that?”

“Yes, I heard it” Marco said. “And he’s right”

“What’s so scandalous about this? It isn’t a scandal, and I’m not covering anything up!”

“Well, then you’ve got nothing to worry about, have you?” Marco paused, and sighed heavily. “Tony, I get it: it’s stressful and annoying. But so what? You’re used to this. Look, it’s late. I’m gonna call it a night on this matter, and you should too. Spend time with your kid or do your emails or something. I’ll call tomorrow and we’ll sort out the press release. Ok?”

Tony sighed in annoyance. 

“Alright, fine” he huffed. “Goodnight”

“Night, Tony. Talk tomorrow. Bye now”

“Bye”

Tony ended the call. He went to throw his phone onto the sofa, but he wasn’t watching what he was doing, and he completely misjudged it, so instead of landing on the seat, it hit Peter hard on the forehead.

“Ow!”

“Oh fuck! Sorry, chick, I’m sorry!” Tony grabbed hold of him, checking his head. “Ouch! I didn’t think I’d thrown it that hard. Maybe we should get you an ice pack: your father’ll kill me if he sees you all bumped and bruised”

“At least you didn’t do it on purpose”

Tony kissed him hard on the forehead.

“OW! Dad!”

“Sorry! Oh god, I-... Ok, come on; let’s go and get you an ice pack”

-

Peter sat at the breakfast bar, holding an ice pack against the bump on his head, and watching Tony pacing the kitchen.

“Dad, you’re kinda making me nervous”

“Well, I am nervous” Tony said, continuing to pace. “This is getting blown totally out of proportion. I know how this goes. They’ll start turning up everywhere I go, following Loki around, following you around, all that kind of scummy paparazzi stuff. I’ll have to keep you off school, and-”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?”

“No, I don’t! I don’t want you and Loki hounded for a stupid news story. It’s not fair on either of you - or me. They need to leave you alone”

“Well, why don’t we do a DNA test, then? Once they’ve got the proof that I literally am just an adopted son, not a biological son, then they’ll shut up, right?”

“And give them the satisfaction? Absolutely not!” Tony said. “I told your father earlier: I won’t be bullied into it. Besides, all these companies will probably fiddle the results to get whatever outcome they want - because they want a good story and a good way to get more business. I’m not having “As Used By Tony Stark” splattered all over some dodgy DNA testing website and all over the news along with fake results”

“Dad, can you stop? You’re really putting me on edge”

Tony stopped. He sighed and sat down opposite Peter at the breakfast bar. 

“Sorry, kiddo. All this is just really getting to me. It’s pretty tough to deal with to be honest”

“Mm...”

They were quiet for a moment, until Peter’s stomach rumbling loudly broke the silence.

“Sounds like your whale is singing again” Tony said. “What do you want to eat?”

Peter shrugged. “Whatever’s easiest, I guess”

Tony paused. He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Oh”

“What?”

“Loki...” Tony opened the text. “He saw the news thing. And he says there’s probably gonna be another little headline cos a reporter recognised him and tried to question him and he told them to fu- to go away. But not in a nice way”

“Mm”

Tony sighed again. “Anyway, do you wanna order a takeaway?”

“It’s up to you”

“I’m not that hungry” Tony said. “You decide”

“I’m not that hungry either”

“Liar. I heard your stomach just now” 

“Well...”

Tony sighed and put his phone away. “Give us a clue, chick”

“I don’t know. Anything, I guess”

Tony stood up. “...Cheese on toast?”

Peter nodded, and Tony nodded back. That was simple enough. He didn’t have the energy to do anything complicated. He needed to think.

-

Loki was surprised at how quiet the house was when he got home later that night. He found Tony in the living room, biting his thumb and staring at a blank Google search page on his laptop.

“Tony?”

Tony nodded slightly, not taking his eyes off the screen. 

“Are you ok?”

“Mm”

Loki sat down beside him and closed his laptop.

“Where’s Peter?”

“Bed”

“I see” Loki sighed. “I’m sorry about my text. It just slipped out. He might ignore it; lots of reporters get told to fuck off - and worse. But I still thought you should know”

“Mm... You saw the news thing”

“Yes. It was on where we were” Loki said. “It’s all nonsense and clutching at straws, you know that”

“I know” Tony said, moving his laptop aside and finally looking at Loki. “It’s still getting to me though”

“I know” Loki sighed. “What’s different this time? Is it because of what happened last year?”

“Maybe. What do you think?”

“I think it might be. I’m not sure. Unless it’s a premonition of something to come”

“What kind of something?”

“I don’t know” Loki said. “Maybe something’s going to happen”

“Mm...”

“Something definitely feels different this time” Loki said. “We’ve had similar articles before”

“I know, but not like this. It’s so widespread. So insistent. It sounded so much more like gossip before”

“It’s still gossip now. People are inventing facts to suit their shows and articles. Have you sorted a press release yet?”

“No. Marco’s gonna ring again tomorrow and sort it with me”

“What has Peter had to say about all this?”

“Not much” Tony said. “He said what you said; that we should do a test just to shut them up. And I said to him what I said to you”

“I see. Is he bothered by it all?”

“No more than usual. I think he still finds it a bit weird hearing facts about his life coming from people he’s never met. I mean, the fact he was orphaned and lived with May before coming here are common knowledge, even if the deeper facts aren’t”

“Yes, that’s true” Loki said. “Still...”

“He’s just a baby, little Peter. He shouldn’t have to worry about any of this kind of stuff”

“I don’t think he’s worrying, for what it’s worth” Loki said. “I think he’s more worried about you and your reaction - and me and mine - than he is about the thing itself”

“Maybe...”

“So, what are you going to do?”

“Tell people to stop their stupid fantasy tales and mind their own business” Tony said. “Maybe consider home-schooling again”

“You can’t take him out of school just because reporters are interested in the family” Loki said. “They’re hardly going to march into an elite secondary school to question him. They wouldn’t have the audacity - and besides, his selective mutism is as common knowledge as his last name nowadays. They’d be wasting their time even if they had the gall to do it”

“They’d better stay away from my kid” Tony put his arms around Loki and rested his head on his chest. “I really hope this blows over soon. It’s really playing with my anxiety. Plus I hate that I had to keep Peter in tonight. He’s more upset about that than he’s letting on”

“I can imagine...”

Tony lifted his head, looking at him. “What?”

“Is he still friends with Macy? He doesn’t really talk about her much”

“Well, apparently she’s grounded. That’s what he said today. I think she’s been grounded a lot lately. I can’t say I’m surprised. She’s a right little madam. I can imagine her being a nasty piece of work when she’s a bit older” Tony said. “Maybe that’s why they haven’t been seeing each other much lately. I can’t imagine Flo’s ever been in trouble in her life, and Millie’s a good girl, so they’re hardly likely to get grounded and miss out like Macy”

“So you think they’re still friends; they just don’t see each other outside school much because she’s bad?”

“Yeah, that’s my guess” Tony rested his head back against Loki’s chest. “Has anyone at the hospital asked you about this news thing?”

“Not really. A few patients have mentioned it, but of course I won’t discuss it with people. Jo Jo mentioned it too, but he mentions everything about us that ends up in the papers. He thinks this story is a load of rubbish too”

“Good. At least some people have got their heads screwed on... You’re right though; something does feel different this time” he sat up. “Maybe we’re just being paranoid. Are you going to bed?”

Loki paused for a moment. “...Yes, I think so. Are you?”

“Later. I’m gonna try to get through some more emails first. Night”

“Alright. I’m going to check in on the baby first”

“Good idea. He seemed a bit funny last time I checked on him, but he said he was just tired. Maybe he’ll be a bit more open with you”

“Maybe” Loki gave him a hug and a kiss. “See you in a bit”

“Night darling. See you in a bit”

-

Peter was awake when Loki checked in on him.

“Hello, you”

“Hi, daddy”

“What are you still doing up? I got the impression you went to bed ages ago”

“I did” Peter said. “I’ve slept a little bit, but not much, and now I can’t get back to sleep”

“What’s the matter?” Loki asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Are you just not tired, or is something bothering you?”

“Well...”

“You can tell me” Loki said gently. 

“I just... This latest news thing is really bothering dad, isn’t it? It’s hardly a new rumour, so I don’t get why it’s bothering him so much this time”

“Well, it’s much more persistent and in depth than it has been in the past. It sounds so sure of itself, and it’s being presented as fact” Loki said. “It’s very different to the old ones, and it’s lasting longer as a top story too. Your dad doesn’t like it when the press get you involved at the best of times”

“He never has” Peter said. “Even back at the start when we were just getting to know each other. Although I think that might have been more about protecting the fact that I’m Spiderman. More than anything else, anyway”

“You might be right there, although he’s definitely cared about you for you and not for Spiderman since not that long after he found you. But since you became close to him, and especially since you came to live with us, it’s been much more about protecting his family. Do you understand?”

“I think so. He wants me to have as normal a life as possible, even though I’m Tony Stark’s son, so that includes keeping out of the press as much as possible”

Loki blinked at him. “Where did you hear that?”

“I overhead him talking to uncle Steve about it ages ago”

“I see” Loki said. “Well, it’s true. I think he wants to protect your feelings too”

“I wish he wouldn’t worry. I don’t like seeing him like this. He got really funny when we were watching that thing”

“Yes, he mentioned you were with him. I didn’t think you would have been”

“No?”

“No, so I was a little surprised when he told me. Are you ok about that?”

Peter shrugged. “He held me pretty tight, and that kinda hurt a bit. And I didn’t like seeing him getting all anxious and stuff. I think it would’ve been better if I hadn’t’ve been there”

Loki nodded. “And the news segment?”

“I still find it weird that people know who I am”

Loki stroked Peter’s hair gently. “Maybe you’d be better off just trying to ignore it all”

“Maybe. It’ll all blow over before too long anyway, won’t it?”

“I should think so” Loki said. “Now, do you need anything before I go to bed?”

Peter shook his head slightly. “No, I don’t think so”

“Alright darling” Loki gave him a quick kiss. “Goodnight sweetie”

“Night daddy. See you in the morning”

Loki tucked him in and left him, closing the door behind him. Peter waited until he was sure he was gone, and then reached under his pillow for his phone. He opened the website he’d been looking at. 

As much as Peter knew what a DNA test was, it wasn’t something he’d really looked into before, but recent events had made him curious. Besides, the way Peter saw it, the easiest way to get the press off his families case was to do a DNA test - whether Tony agreed or not. It wasn’t like Peter couldn’t afford it himself, and he could be sneaky when he needed to be.

The information on the websites he’d found were informative without being overbearing or full of medical jargon. Basically, what he gathered was that you’d  get results of 0% (excluded) or 99.99% (Paternity Practically Proven). It was simple: excluded meant they weren’t the father, and Paternity Practically Proven meant they were. Ignoring the sciencey bits, Peter concluded the ‘Practically Proven’ bit and the 99.99% were a back-covering measure. Still, simple enough. He didn’t read into that bit too much though, because he knew it would never be relevant to him.

He read the information for the home DNA test kit instead. The website he was on said you would get the results in 3-5 working days. Although it said it was recommended if available, you didn’t need to include a DNA sample from the mother, which was a great relief, as was the fact that the service was completely confidential. The website also stated results would be sent by email unless otherwise requested. This was good, because it meant intercepting the post wasn’t going to be an issue. Well, he’d have to intercept it for the actual post, but he could order it so that it would arrive on a Saturday, which would mean he’d definitely be about to get to the post before his parents. It said it was discreet packaging, but still.

The website was pretty reassuring, talking about its credibility and experience and accuracy and legality and everything else Peter needed to know about to put his mind as rest. It all seemed pretty simple. Collecting the samples was just oral swabs for cheek cells. Tony was a pretty heavy sleeper nowadays, so Peter was fairly confident that he’d be able to get Tony’s sample easily enough without him knowing. 

Peter was starting to feel pretty confident about his idea, until he clicked onto the page about how to take samples, just to fact check. It listed everything that would be included in the kit, and he stopped short when he was a few lines down.

‘ - Consent form; this form will authorise laboratory testing. Without it properly filled out, we will not be able to analyse your samples’

Peter stopped for a minute. That would mean Tony would have to sign it as well. He hadn’t realised. From what he’d read on other websites (and checked on Wikipedia) it was only the UK where the Human Tissue Act meant you couldn’t DNA test someone without their written consent. He was certain he could just forge Tony’s signature, the way he did with some letters from school.

Peter shook his head and carried on reading, but it was hard to focus on the instructions. When he reached the bottom of the page, he felt uncomfortable, and guilty: guilty that he’d so easily considered not only doing a DNA test behind his parents back, but also potentially breaking the law and destroying the trust they had in him by forging a signature on said DNA test. 

Peter closed the browser and shoved his phone under his pillow. He lay down and pulled the covers up over his shoulders, and hugged his toy seal close. No, he couldn’t do a DNA test behind his dad’s back. It was a silly idea anyway. Even if it was possible, Tony would never forgive him if he found out he’d deceived him. Peter sighed. Well, it wasn’t really his business anyway, and he knew that Tony wasn’t his biological father, but he was his father all the same. He’d adopted him, hadn’t he? So that made him family. He didn’t need any test to know that. Like Tony said; why give the paparazzi the satisfaction?

Peter snuggled down in bed. This would all blow over soon anyway.

*