#really struggled with articulation when I was younger

[mari-animates]

That other person is insane and anti black your explanation was very easy and clear to understand I’m sure even for white ppl let alone other poc who aren’t black. They literally lied and said they were coming to you in good faith I’m sorry about that

Shoulda seen it coming, at least I'm articulate

[dcxdpdabbles]

Are you going to make another part for the Angel and Demon Brat? If you do, please have them fumbling and Damian + Danny taking full advantage. Also, could you do something about Cujo please? I don’t think Danny would move without him

Danny will admit that he is having a little too much fun with his birth father's family. But could one blame him? They made it all too easy. Also, he was starting to see why Damian had been a bit hesitant to tell them about him.

It was not that they threatened him in any way, but he could see how hard it was for them to have a normal relationship with anyone. Just his small forms of affection made a lot of the Waynes' skin crawl.

They still gave in regardless. Danny worries it's the most hugs any of them have gotten in years. It couldn't be mentally healthy. Or could it? Some people didn't like to be touched, and that was fair.

He did have to play a careful balance.

He knew that if the League of Assians found out about Damian caring for him, Danny would go from being a Lost sibling to a Dead sibling. The Waynes on the other hand were under the impression that denying him anything would cause Time to erease him- not that Clockwork would dare. Who would try his spicy salsas then?- so they were much more careful in how they handled him.

Tim was his favorite. Danny could tell the other boy really liked being acknowledged, and unlike Dick, who thrived on being the center of attention, Tim struggled to let people know.

So Danny had small ways to give him what he desperately craved and had a little fun with it.

He carefully knocks on the boy's door room, clutching his pillow and blanket. There was a small pause where he could hear Tim scruffling around, likely trying to hide the coffee maker under his bed. Danny didn't have the heart to tell him the whole mansion but Alfred and Bruce knew about his bedroom coffee maker.

Maybe he should hint about it tomorrow at breakfast? Watch Tim sweat?

He shifts his face into an innocent expression when Tim opens the door. The other squints at him, likely catching his more mischievous expression but unwilling - or unable- to call him out on it.

"Angel Brat?" Tim says weary. The nickname rolls off his tongue so easily that one would think Tim has always called him that. Danny applauds his acting ability.

"Hi, Tim! I'm here for our bi-weekly ritual," he chirps, pushing the confused teen aside to step in. He gently rolls his heart pump behind him, mindful of the wires. It's on top of his gas tank, which he chose to wear so he could breathe some clear ectoplasm.

Gotham's ectoplasm was polluted with negative emotions, and it was giving him a headache.

None of the machines was actually doing anything—his heart rate will never be regulated due to his powers—but it was the perfect excuse for why Danny wasn't seen that often in public.

Barbara had gone back into Gotham gossip rags, publishing fake articles and small rumors on the internet that dated to the first day Damian arrived. This gave him some proof of existing before, but with the "timeline reset," it would make sense why no one could recall Danny.

As far as the Gotham citizens were concerned, Danny was an unproven rumor at best. People were asking about him but weren't daring enough to demand who Danny was.

Barbara was the best like that, and Danny should convince Damian to give her and her dad an even longer, all-expenses-paid vacation. She deserved it.

"Our bi-weekly ritual. Of course. Must have have slipped my mind." Tim carefully articulates. His words are clipped enough Danny can tell he's confused. Danny beams at him nonetheless, sitting on the ground carefully after he finishes adding his pillow and blanket to Tim's bed.

He leans his back against Tim's beg, crosses his legs underneath him, and takes a deep breath of ectoplasm.

Tim pauses for only a moment before walking over and sitting cross-leg in front of Danny. The younger boy pays him no mind while fumbling with the bag he brought along.

Danny began pulling out all his needed supplies. Five candles- each with a different color flame are left in a small circle. Five bottles sealed with wax and labeled with different named potions are carefully added to the center of the circle- he makes sure that the glitter liquid inside does not shake too much less the small surprise is noticed.

Then he pulls out a large book, with the image of a screaming skull on the cover. It's large enough that he has to set it on the ground, a thump produced from the weight.

He then carefully claps his hands four times, switching Tim's lights off so the only glow is the green, blue, pink, purple, and yellow light of the candle.

Tim looks a bit distressed. likely thinking Danny was about to start practicing the Black Magic or something. It's hard to keep a straight face as he fights off a giggle at the expression being aimed his way while he flips through the pages.

Tim carefully taps his hand against a bracelet on his wrist, which connects to the Bat's communication lines. The rest of the Bats are probably thinking that Tim is in danger even though he was supposed to be on rest duty and have tuned into the conversation. Danny isn't supposed to know that, though, since he is not "healthy" enough to be a vigilante, so he ignores it.

"Alright, should I start or you?" Danny asks when he lands on the page he was looking for. It's in Latin, which he knows Tim can read but that doesn't stop it from being creepy.

"You can start first."

"Really? You never let me go first in the bi-weekly ritual!" Danny cheers, leaning down to the page. From the corner of his eye, he can see the distress blooming more on Tim's face.

"I'm feeling...generous. I think you're old enough to start our bi-weekly ritual that requires colorful candles, a large black skull book in Latin, and five colored potions." Tim says obviously repeating the materials to the eavesdropping Bats.

"Thanks, Tim! Okay, here we go." Danny holds out his hand above the book muttering in Latin.

"Oh great, Clockwork, master of time, head my call and tell me the answer to my inquiry." Danny quickly switches to English as he grabs the potion in pink glitter. Giving it a good shake, he continues. "Does Kon-El think Tim is cute?"

The glitter shifts until a dice appears with the words- More likely than you think is visible. Danny squeals showing Tim, "Omg Tim, you have a chance!"

Tim's face falters and then turns an alarming shade of red. "What?!"

"Wait the following questions!" Danny reaches for the remaining bottles, making sure to go in the color order of the candles. Will Kon ask Tim to marry him? Yes! Where will they live? A mansion. How many kids will they have? fifteen! What will Tim's future job be? A photographer!"

Danny flips the page over to a table of data, squabbling down the answers. "Okay, you're going to get married to Kon, live in a mansion, have fifteen kids, and be a photographer. This is the third time in a row that Kon has married you. I think Clockwork is on your side for this one, Tim. It's my turn!"

Danny pretended he couldn't hear Jason laughing his ass off in Tim's earpiece or Dick's voice cry out. "No fair! I want to play spooky MASH on a bi-weekly basis."

Tim is beet red, fumbling with his hands. "Who-i-what-?"

Danny frowns. "Are you okay Tim? Should we skip Bi-boys night?"

"Bi-boy night?!" Tim squeaks.

"Yeah! I thought I would give our hang-out night a nickname, and since we mostly end up talking about cute girls and boys, I thought we could name it bi-boy night. You know since you're the only one in the family that's bi like me? I know no one will want to date me. I'm too sick...but it's nice to have a brother who gets crushes."" Danny hunches his shoulders a little ignoring the way Tim's eyes widen a bit with affection. He's touched that Danny came to him for this. Fool. "We can skip my turn. It's not like I'll have someone anyway."

Jason has stopped laughing, and Steph softly whispers. "That's so cute and sad. Who's been hurting our baby?"

Tim swallows. "No. We are not skipping your turn. We are going to play this game because anyone would be tripping over themselves for you."

"Really?" Danny smiles hopefully at Tim. Tim nods firmly, then narrows his eyes.

"No dating until you are sixteen."

"I know." Danny rolls his eyes "You've said that before."

"Good."

"But I can still have crushes right? Because I have one on Jon."

"Jon Kent?" Tim asks at the same time Bruce growls the name.

"You won't tell Dad will you?" Danny asks after nodding and blushing. Damian told him yesterday that Jon pissed him off, and with the power to heat up his ectoplasm just behind his checks, causing them to flush, he thinks he just found a good way to make the super regret upsetting his brother.

Nothing like an overprotective Bat clan to dish out vengence.

"No," Tim says, grinding his teeth. "No, I won't tell. But since I already got married to Kon maybe we can try someone else."

Danny's eyes sparkle with barely concealed glee. "Okay, let's use my second crush! He's super cooler anyway"

"Of course, what's his name?" Tim asks picking up the pink bottle.

"Your friend Bernard," Danny says, knowing Danm well, Tim had an undiscovered crush on the guy. He watches with glee as Tim chocks on his spit.

"What?!"

"Yeah, he's got muscular arms, and he can cook," Danny sighs dreamily. "Damian thinks he's hot too."

"No." Tim gasps.

"I do," Damian says over the cons to the collective shock of everyone. "Dowd has a fine physique. He's also great with animals. I approve of Daniel's involvement with him."

Danny's lower lip wobbles. "No? I can't play the game?"

Tim takes one look at him before caving. "Does Bernard Dowd think Danny is cute......it says no."

"Oh. If Clockwork doesn't think so, then I guess it's not meant to be," Danny sighs.

"Who is Clockwork?" Tim asks, placing the potion down.

Danny blinks. "You don't remember Clockwork? Lately, everyone has been forgetting important things around here. Is something wrong?"

Danny allows his body to flicker a bit with his powers, acting as if he didn't notice as Tim grows alarmed.

"I'm joking! It's a joke! Of course, I know Clockwork! Ha ha ha! Why don't we do the next thing on our Bi-Boy Night!? Want to watch a movie?!" Tim practically leaps out of his seat racing to TV. "What are you in the mood for? Comedy or horror?"

"A musical!"

"A musical!?"

However, Damian has to stop on a roof to laugh into the concrete as he listens to Drake- an active hater of musicals- try to sing along to something called High School Musical and act like he loves it as Danny sings with him. He can hear Drake's blood pressure rise with every new line

[oatmealdaydreams]

Random Headcanons No One Asked For :)

I have many Thoughts.

Ford speaks many alien languages from his time dimension-hopping and will forget human words sometimes. so he uses the alien word for things and no one knows wtf he's talking about

Stan being on the road for 10 years & Ford dimension-hopping for about 30 years has parallels that I can't articulate right now

Stan gives Mabel boxing lessons after she uses her Mabel Power on him (aka: puppy-dog eyes)

Mabel & Ford share a love for scrapbooking/journaling, so Mabel gives him some tips about better glue and the use of fun stickers

Dipper and Stan play card games together, including poker and slap jack

Family Game Night is one of the most chaotic nights of the week and Monopoly was banned after "The Incident"

Ford is allergic to strawberries and fucking hates bananas (because I say so)

While sailing together on the Stan O' War II, Ford and Stan find out about each other's scars and where they're from. Protective Sibling Bonding ensues.

Stan makes an off-hand comment about an attractive guy and that's how he comes out to Ford

All four Pines have different mental struggles after Weirdmageddon & the whole Bill Cipher situations, so they try their best to be there for each other because they understand a bit better than anyone else

Sometimes Ford & Dipper get really horrifying nightmares relating to Bill-Possession and stay up talking in the middle of the night

Ford still struggles with paranoia and paranoid episodes (as does Dipper, depending) but he's growing and learning how to trust again & always has his family to support him

Stan likes to visit the Mystery Shack sometimes to check in on Soos and Wendy

Ford and Fiddleford work on rebuilding their friendship, sharing sea adventure stories and how life is living with Tate

Fiddleford and Tate work on rebuilding their father/son bond, which often includes fishing together at the lake

Ford, now in his 60s, discovers he's asexual and has this moment of peaceful realization. helps him feel more like himself as he recovers from everything he's been through with Bill

Stan sometimes worries that a piece of Bill is leftover in his mind, but is often reassured by his family that Bill is truly gone and can't hurt them anymore

Stan struggles through memory relapses and amnesia episodes, but Ford & family are always there to help him through it (the memories always come back in the end)

Stan and Ford finally catch up with Shermie after so long of no seeing him & it's an emotional reunion (and a bit of a surprise to Shermie to see both of his younger brothers alive)

at some point during highschool, Dipper has an "oh shit" moment when they realize they like using they/them pronouns

And many more things! This is long enough, lmao.

[girls--complex]

hi, love your work a lot! it manages to blend coherence with layers of esoterica, in a fun & meaningful way. do you have any big influences with your style?

Writing this as a narrative because my whimsicall mind can't seem to organize information logickally otherwise

So

When I was a child my Dad would show me a lot of comics/cartoons in all different styles/eras and so I was internalizing comic book logic from the very beginning. He really liked American comix both capes and Indie stuff but was also into franco belgian artists and let's be clear my papa has good taste so I was readying good stuff though I couldn't remember it all too reliably... Also Comics Journal, so I was reading comics & meta about comics. So basically I have like a deep archetypal brain stem dark spring of mind that spits out raw comic information like a dream that I can't place until I rediscover them, and a lot of deep unremembered imprintations that R kinda roiling around under the surface #Stupidsoldier

N then I was a deviantart kiddo and a reading manga at barnes and noble kiddo, and then I went and got a formal art education and learned about all these artists that sort of did pseudo comics or cartoons but didnt articulate it that way-- The German xpressionists are a big example of this -- and also about overall principles of like scale and hierarchy and time and presence -- and also just that I really like drawin the human figure in particular :)

I'm really grateful that my parents especially my dad were actually really supportive/invested in me being an artist even though they had very little faith in my character or overall competence. so I was always doing art activities to make me better at drawing because that was like the one redeeming quality I had, a lot of household resources went into me having art tutoring or doing community classes, and I was really strongly encouraged to get ma BFA

So 4 influences well I like things that are very stylish but very specific in how they represent figure N physiognomy... Naoki Urosawa & Jeff Smith were fascinations 2 me along this line... Arakawa is good too... I feel like this is a strength of American and British cartoonists generally but struggling to think of names

My favorite painter is tied between two commies: Siqueiros, who was a Mexican muralist and chaotic socialist, really specific markmaking and texture, pathos drenched figuration, charged epic landscapes, and Petrov-Vodkin, Russian ikonographer who became a propagandist for the USSR, semi-social-realist, semi-ikonographic compositions in which space is wrapping around itself to organize human figures according to a mythological logic, flattish, very cartoons/comics aligned, strange treatment of color but all really effective

History painting overall is everything to me it really doesn't show in Coward but I think it shows elsewhere some of my other dramatic sensibility is a lot from 00s action movie shlock which I would always enjoy to go see when I was younger and was somehow fascinated with the environment of government buildings and prisons and secret operations happeningunder the surface of every day life erupting into wet violence of men punching each other

I love the movie THE RAID redemption !!!!

I learned a lot of the logic of pacing N building pages around Tezuka's work as well as FMA N Death Note I think were big 1s to teach me that logic. Tezuka is a really good artist to look at for how to compose a page that supports the energy of the events that are happening on it, not that that's something I personally am good at. Favorite mangaka for tone and environment and visual identity are Katsuhiro Otomo, Tustomu Nihei, Suehiro Maruo, Nishioka siblings, Hideshi Hino

A lot of my sense of timing is also from news paper strips tbh. It's just a gut thing to me at this point hehe , Character design is also a gut thing for me I draw a little thing and I can either ensoul it with psychosexual fixation or I can't

I was born in the hospital Henry Darger worked at St. Joe's he's an ancestor to me but ofc inimitable by virtue of GOD being his sole audience

As for the esoterickal dimensions I feel like it's all it's own post let's just say I lack the inclination and ability for systematic and rigorous study but I am really interesting in gathering little packets of information and arranging them into dioramas and the longer I do it the more packets I accrue

I want to make a list of artists on here that I like/admire sometime too but that's too much for me rn. I also suspect a lot of people R mad at me for arbitrary reasons just as I also am mad at a lot of people for arbitrary reasons so I dont wanna bother no one ...

Oh well so I'm intentionally reorganizing how I draw right now because I sense a shift in my trajectory again so thanks for making me reflect

[strawberrylabs]

Being Freminet's biological sibling

warning!!: this will contain spoilers for Freminet's backstory and lore! there are also mentions of dissociation, identity crisises!

also this is kind of angsty ngl? I promise it's mostly fluff tho

Freminet is known for being quiet and reserved. Whether or not you are the same doesn't matter to him; he knows whether he articulates his thoughts through words or through a simple look, you'll know exactly what he wants- what he needs- to say to you

He normally uses his diving to get away from people. Please don't be offended, he just needs time away.

But that doesn't mean he goes alone all the time. In fact more often than not, he brings you with him. It's honour really, to have him share such an intimate part of himself with you. He trusts you more than anyone.

Usually the only times he goes alone is after a particularly troublesome mission when he needs time to process all that happened.

But after he's sorted his emotions, he's seeking you out to just be in your presence. Usually youre sitting somewhere doing whatever it is you do in your spare time, and Freminet would sit himself beside you and fiddle with Pers as he leans into your side.

Which brings me to affection. He's not usually the most keen on physical touch, but he appreaciates the times where your grab his hand to ground him. You seem to know exactly when to grab his warm hand when you tell people his hand is warm they always look at you with shock. It seems they don't understand how someone who is so reserved and cold, could ever be as warm and gentle as you say in your cool one and give it a slight squeeze to remind him you're there.

When you two are alone after moments like that, Freminet lets his head fall on your shoulder as you hug him. Only you hear the small "thank you" he lets out.

Lyney and Lynette are just of protective of you as they are Freminet. Doesn't matter if you're older, younger or the same age. You're still one of their precious siblings.

They're also deeply gratefull for having you to help Freminet where they can't.

You are incredibly protective of Freminet. If anyone dares to say anything mean you're quick to shoot them down and comfort your brother, soothing his self-doubts.

Speaking of, you're really the only person that calms down his racing mind. You've been in his life well.. for his whole life. You are the one and only constant he has.

He listens to you. He trusts you. Don't abuse that.

He relies on you to ensure him he's not some clockwork toy made simply to look unassuming and follow orders.

He has moments in the night where he struggles with his identity, sometimes contemplating if he's even a real person. When this happens, he often slips into your bed beside you, clinging to you as you card you fingers though his hair, lulling him into a comforting sleep knowing his sibling is there with him.

You're not the only one who's protective.

If you go diving with him, he's checking your equipment thrice over. He also insists on accompanying you on your missions, even if he has to stay a certain distance away.

He sometimes feels bad that he has to rely on you so much to comfort him. He doesn't feel as if he's worth the touble.

He makes you a matching penguin clockwork toy as a thank you gift one time. You bring it with you everywhere.

He also brings you shells and sea flowers that he thinks you'll like. One time he slowly collected and dried out enough romaritime flowers to make you a flower crown. You now keep it in a box with your most prized possessions Freminet thought it wasn't good enough to be in that box but when he saw how fondly you smiled, he couldn't bring himself to say so

Whenever Freminet has his helmet on, you know he's likely dissociate. This is one of those times you hold his hand tightly. But something else you do that he is deeply thankful for is you make sure no one bothers him when he's like this. If someone gives him a dirty look, you give them one right back. If someone tries to say something, you quietly shut them down and say to come back with any concerns or jobs later.

You know exactly what to say to get Freminet to start talking for hours which most people didn't even know was possible. For example; get him talking about the sea.

One time Paimon and Traveler overheard Freminet talking you about a field of romaritime flowers he found with a content smile on his face. What was most surprising was he was making eye contact with you. Later that week, Paimon tried to get Freminet to talk about the flowers, and he just shyly looked away and gave a brief explanation and summary.

However after that, the traveler asked about you, and Freminet spoke a little longer about you.

"I appreciate my sibling very much. They've always been there for me and I hope I've succeeded in being there for them when they need me too.."

Going back to the thing about diving..

When Freminet confides in you about sharing his problems with the objects of the water, he's scared that you may be offended he doesn't tell you as much as he tells the sea.

He nearly cried when you just smiled and told him it was ok.

You explained that everyone has their own ways of coping with the world. You had your ways, and Freminet had diving.

That's why you understood just how much trust Freminet was putting in you the first time he brought you with him.

Freminet's first instincts when he gets overwhelmed is to run to the ocean. However his instincts also tell him you need to be there.

If something has gone wrong, he has to know where you are, otherwise he panics more. He often drags you away from whatever you were doing to take you with him to the ocean. Even if you don't go underwater with him, he feels comfort knowing you're nearby.

If you have any specific situations that your uncomfortable with or things that trigger you, Freminet will do whatever he can to make sure the two of you avoid them in missions or just in general. He usually tells Lyney and Lynette so they can help too.

If you ever have moments where your mental health isn't the best, Freminet will sit with you as long as it takes for you to feel better. Minutes, hours, days. He'd sit with you, holding you hand as long as you need him too. He may not know what words to say, but he can be a grounding presence for you in the darkness.

If you were ever injured, Freminet's first reaction is to shut down. The thought of living life without his sibling who's been there since he can remember, through the drunken singing and the yelling, through the debt collectors asking for you father, through the nights of listening to the same lullaby with your mother. The thought of your constant presence just suddenly not being there is too overwhelming.

He stands at your side, not moving or saying a word. The second it's confirmed you'll be ok, he's torn between running to the ocean or staying with you.

He decides he won't abandon you. He won't leave you the way your mother left the two of you. even if at the time she had no choice

It's tradition for the two of you at least once a week to read a fariytale. You often go out and buy new ones each time. However usually you both end up re-reading the story of Pers.

The day Freminet got his vision, you were on the shore waiting for the group that went diving. You saw a burst light and suddenly felt a chill... Freminet made you promise not to tell anyone that he saved the children.

You make a point to remind him how brave and heroic he was whenever he feels down. Just because no one else will ever know or appreactiate what he did, doesn't mean you won't.

What Freminet would never tell you, is that the only reason he had the will to survive in that situation, was because he couldn't bear the thought of leaving you the same way mother did...

When you got your vision, Freminet wasn't there. It was before he started going on all you missions with you.

When you came back with a vision in hand, he immediately asked what happened and if you were ok after all, people seldom get a God's favor unless in sardonic situations..

The two of you are inseperable. You're eachothers life lines.

You need Freminet.

And Freminet needs you.

@rainswept that was for you pookie

this was geniunley so much fun to write???

Freminet my son. Ugh. I want to hug him.

Masterlist

rules

[couldawouldashoulda50]

Previous parts 1 2 3 4 In continuation of @misshoneyimhome's birthday celebration, here is Part 5 of The Sweden Chapter.

A/N - I'm going to try and limit overstating that I really struggled tying up this part up. I'm not sure why, and I hope the story somehow rises above that vibe.

I have truly appreciated the thoughts and feedback that I have received - I think I obsessively consider each option for Loren and William, and incorporate how I feel it might fit into the story that's mapped out in my head.

The boutique scene came from an anon ask asking what William might think seeing Loren in these fits. Thank you nonnie - I hope you'll enjoy that part.

Notes and Warnings - profanity, alludes to smut. I think that's it.

Word count 9.5k

18+ only please.

Once the dust settled in the days after Loren's initial arrival, William and Loren quickly established a blissful and comfortable routine that suited their typical easy-going nature. As much as Loren appreciated the opportunity to sightsee, she told William she was far more interested in just experiencing the normal day-to-day activities of living in Stockholm.

The days were filled with the best food combined with incredible company—William's friends and family had effortlessly endeared themselves to Loren and she to them. When they found themselves alone, the magnetism of their intense attraction was evident. Inside his apartment, every surface was fair game to give in to their steamy passion for one another. In the outside world, the two had their ways of showing their deep affection for one another through discreet touches and long, lingering gazes.

Time was flying by. As Loren approached the halfway mark of her trip, thoughts of leaving—not just William, but Sweden in general—filled her heart with despair. She had genuinely fallen hard for the city, William's inner circle, and most of all, William himself.

William often relied on his actions to articulate his feelings as opposed to words. Each morning he woke up with Loren, he pulled her body tight against his, savoring her presence and feeling happier than he had in ages. And he had much more planned for her stay—including a surprise 3-day side trip to Paris beginning the following day. William was quick to realize that the idea of him and Loren spending true uninterrupted alone time together could only occur in the offseason. In Toronto, the pressure of his hockey career often dictated how he and Loren spent time together and it left little room for spontaneity.

He just hadn't figured out when to spring the surprise on her.

Before their Paris departure, however, Loren, William, his siblings, and about a million of their extended friend group would be converging on an up-and-coming nightclub, where Malin's friend would be spinning popular dance and R&B tracks from the early 2000s for the club's inaugural "Ladies Night." Loren was particularly excited for that evening, as the opportunity to simply dance the night away had eluded her for years.

While William dressed for his pending golf tee time later that morning, she lay in bed regaling him with some of her wilder nights out when she was younger and far more carefree.

Under the light cotton sheet, William's eyes were riveted to Loren's silhouette as she swayed to an imaginary rhythm, playfully demonstrating her dance moves. Her tousled hair, alluring smile, and the suggestive way her eyes roamed over William from head to toe nearly persuaded him to cancel his golf plans. They'd already shared an almost-too-loud, passionate encounter that morning, but he could easily forgo golf to spend the day worshipping her—an activity he'd already planned for their Paris trip.

He pounced back onto the bed and crawled on top of her, kissing her everywhere his mouth could access as he groaned the most delicious and filthy ideas into her ear. Loren kissed his neck and grabbed his ass, pulling his hardness against her covered pussy. As bad timing would have it, William's phone chimed announcing the arrival of William's golf foursome. He moaned into her mouth, backed himself off the bed, untucked his shirt to conceal his burgeoning erection, and blew Loren a kiss before heading out the door.

Loren turned to face William's side of the bed, sheets still bunched and crinkled, the damp spot from their shared orgasms from earlier beginning to fade. She pulled William's pillow towards her body and buried her face into its softness. Whether he wore cologne or nothing at all, she cherished his scent as she smoothed her hand over the light cotton pillowcase. Loren then noticed the note William had written her which had made its way to the head of the bed during their amorous morning activities.

William had written the note first thing that morning after deciding to take the dogs for a walk alone. Loren, nearly as deep a sleeper as William, hadn't stirred from her slumber when he'd pulled her close upon waking. Knowing how little sleep she had over the years with the kind of hours she worked—plus the lingering jet lag—he wanted her to rest when she had the chance. When he returned with some breakfast fare, including a ristretto for Loren, she was still sound asleep in the exact position from when he left. Before making breakfast for Pablo and Banksy, he placed the note, the ristretto, and a nutrient dense smoothie that he has wanted her to try on her bedside table. He kissed her forehead gently, left the bedroom and headed out to the kitchen.

Loren awoke a few minutes later and as her eyes focused, she saw the note. His handwriting wasn't messy but it wasn't neat either—something that seemed to accurately describe his housekeeping tendencies as well. The note itself held such a sweet sentiment that made her beam, but it was the little drawing at the bottom that made her laugh. He drew her sleeping in bed with a dream bubble just above it with the caption "Oooo—Willy Nylander is so sexy." Well, yes, indeed he was…she couldn’t agree more.

With the note in her hand, Loren remained in bed, smiling as she listening to William talk to the dogs, followed by some off-key singing. Padding back into the bedroom, once he saw Loren was awake, he climbed across the bed. He gently took the note out of her hand and casted it aside while wishing her a rather sultry good morning. Within seconds, the little clothing William was wearing and the zero clothing Loren had on made for a quick and passionate reunion of body parts. Needless to say, Loren and William lit each other's flame of deep sexual desire, and soon the two were in the throes of not just hot sex—it was hungry, intense, and unbridled lust that was on full display between them.

Lying there, grinning giddily with the memory of their energetic morning encounter, Loren gently pulled the note towards her. She decided it would make a perfect keepsake to take home. Throughout her time with William, she had collected a few mementos, each one she treasured for different reasons. The experience of spending time with a Leafs superstar was something she'd never anticipated, and she knew that years from now, when her tits sagged down to her knees, these little reminders would help jog her memory (at least on a superficial surface level), having “amour fou” with a gorgeous Swedish hockey player.

With care, she tucked the note into one of her suitcase pockets.

Loren lounged in bed, sipping the smoothie William had left for her. She then savored the ristretto, following it with another healthy gulp of the nutritious concoction. As she mentally mulled over her outfit choices for the evening, Loren realized she needed more information about the club's style. She quickly sent a message to Michelle, asking what she planned to wear that night.

Loren was pleasantly surprised when Michelle offered to come over and assist her in choosing the perfect outfit for the evening. Michelle's intention wasn't merely to help Loren pick out somethingto wear. She wanted Loren to outshine Isla; she felt that if Loren looked her absolute best, they could indirectly address Isla's attitude from when they first met. It might sound mean-spirited but Michelle had been witness to far too many of Isla’s antics to sit idly by and let her bulldoze the kind and positive people of the world.

Loren kicked into high gear knowing she only had about thirty minutes before Michelle would be at the door. She swiftly changed the bed, hopped into the shower, got dressed, semi-dried her hair and applied the most basic of make-up to help even out her skin tone. Pablo and Banksy sat atop the fresh sheets, watching Loren dart around the bedroom as she readied for Michelle’s arrival.

Michelle entered the apartment with some more caffeine laden drinks. She postured for a quick hug from Loren and knelt down to greet both dogs. The two women fell into an easy exchange of how her stay with William had been so far. Loren laughed at Michelle’s reaction as she told the story of taking a lengthy dip in the freezing water at the lake house. Like William, Michelle, albeit impressed, thought Loren was nuts. Loren detailed meeting William’s closest friends and Michelle was in agreement with Loren’s kind assessment of Malin, Lisa and Ingrid.

Anxious to see what Loren had in mind to wear that evening, they entered William’s bedroom, beverages in hand, followed by Pablo and Banksy close behind them. Loren had laid out some ideas for the evening, all of which Michelle liked, yet the options seemed to somewhat underwhelming. The outfits were very nice, but Michelle desperately wanted to push Loren’s boundaries a little and coax her to embrace the idea of wearing an absolute show-stopper of an outfit.

While Michelle had been exposed to Isla’s total lack of couth or humility, she observed that Loren’s personality was brimming with politeness and free from vanity. It stymied Michelle that with Loren’s body type, and a face reminiscent of the classic supermodel from decades past, that she was so humble. If only Michelle could show Loren the full extent of her stunning potential.

Loren looked at Michelle with a mixed expression of concern and hopefulness that she would like what Loren had selected.

“I really do like the strapless body suit and slacks - and the blue dress with the thin straps is really nice…,” Michelle paused, choosing her words carefully, “but could you humour me a little and let me take you shopping? Honestly, you can make anything look amazing but I just want to experiment a little. What do you think?”

Loren's mind flashed back to her friend Chelsea's advice about branching out and being more daring with her wardrobe. With no plans until William's return from golfing, Loren jumped at the prospect of shopping with a female Nylander.

Michelle and Loren and their contrasting styles and personalities created an interesting dynamic. Michelle, like all the Nylanders, exuded an air of confidence and effortless sophistication. Michelle’s personal taste leaned towards an edgy, street-inspired style. Loren found Michelle to almost have a regal demeanor - a stoic disposition that was refreshingly straightforward. Michelle was a Nylander but did not grow up in the spotlight like her half-siblings did. She saw life in clear-cut terms and with the support of her mother, father and her extended family, she forged her own path in life.

Beyond their similar age, Michelle felt an instant connection with Loren even though they seemed to possess opposing personalities. Loren's gentle disposition provided seemed to perfectly compliment Michelle's more assertive nature. As their conversations became more detailed and elaborate, Michelle admired the subtle yet profound strength that she saw in Loren’s quiet determination. As Loren talked about her past and current life journey, Michelle was deeply impressed with Loren's ability to blend gentleness with an unwavering inner strength. Michelle smiled to herself as Loren seem to emulate the gentleness that she often found so challenging to emulate.

The boutique where Michelle and Loren ended up was one that Michelle had frequented many times. She knew this would be the perfect spot to bring Loren, as she had a strong and trusting rapport with the sales team.

As they perused the racks, Loren looked a little uncertain as her eyes immediately focused on the plunging neckline of the sleek tops. Loren had naturally shapely and full breasts which she was low key really happy with but felt sheepish about flaunting the girls proudly at a club. At the same time however, she found herself warming up to the styles and loved the neutral colours which heavily complimented her golden and olive skin tones.

Sensing Loren's hesitation, Michelle introduced Britta, her favourite and most trusted sales woman. Michelle and Britta were teaming up to find something for Loren that didn't just have a wow factor….they wanted Loren to go full bombshell.

With their combined expertise, Michelle and Britta began scouring the boutique for the perfect outfit. They pulled sleek dresses, sultry tops, and form-fitting bottoms, each piece carefully selected to accentuate every curve of Loren’s body. As they presented their choices to Loren, her eyes widened with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Michelle understood Loren’s trepidation but gently encouraged Loren to step out of her comfort zone, assuring her that tonight was the perfect opportunity to embrace her inner confidence.

Armed with an unsure “wish me luck” expression, Loren pulled back the curtain of the fitting room. Smartly, the area had soft, recessed lighting which cast a flattering glow. This was in stark contrast to the unforgiving fluorescent lights which Loren was accustomed to in the chain store dressing rooms.

Perhaps the most ingenious aspect of the fitting room design was the deliberate absence of mirrors within the enclosure itself. This clever arrangement served a dual purpose: it prevented customers from making hasty judgments about their appearance before a trained eye could fully appreciate and assess the ensemble. As customers stepped out to view themselves in the strategically placed mirrors outside, it allowed for a more objective evaluation of each look - free from the immediate self-criticism that often accompanies trying on new clothes.

As she slipped into the sleek, mineral-colored dress, she felt the soft, high-quality fabric hug her curves in all the right places. The texture and fit of the garment alone were enough to elevate her confidence.

Gathering her courage, Loren emerged from behind the curtain. The reaction she received uplifted her confidence even further. Michelle and Britta’s eyes widened in astonishment, their gasps of admiration filling the air. The transformation was so dramatic that for a moment, it seemed as if time stood still. Loren could feel the weight of their gazes, a mixture of awe and pride radiating from both women.

Loren's cheeks were flushed a vibrant shade of pink - a reaction not only from the enthusiastic hoots from Britta and Michelle but also from her own internal realization. As she caught sight of her reflection, it dawned on her that the dress was doing more than just flattering her figure - it was showcasing the results of her recent dedication to fitness in a way she hadn't anticipated. The cut and color of the dress accentuated every toned muscle and elegant curve, revealing a physique that even Loren hadn't fully appreciated until this moment.

As Loren turned to face the mirror, she couldn't suppress the smile that spread across her face. She felt a perfect balance of edgy and sensuality, a combination that made her feel both powerful and feminine.

Michelle wasn’t just impressed, she was truly taken aback. “Well, someone didn’t skip leg day…,” she remarked.

Studying her reflection, Loren turned from side to side. She just couldn’t get her head wrapped around one part of the dress. There wasn’t just a “little” slit in the dress that exposed a tiny bit of leg. It was a slit on steroids. A very noticeable gap that she was convinced would expose the apex of her thighs with every movement.

Loren turned Britta with a look of concern. “Ummmm… so, first….how…how does one deal with undergarments with this situation,” motioning to her general pubic area, “And how am I going to dance without constantly flashing my….c u next Tuesday - I mean, it’s a beautiful dress but yeah, there’s not a lot left to the imagination…” Loren said apprehensively.

Michelle and Britta exchanged knowing glances. "There’s a few different options, so try not to focus on that. As for dancing - unless you’re planning on getting wildly drunk - everything should stay covered. Even if it doesn’t, a little peek never hurt anyone,” Michelle winked.

Loren shook her head and laughed softly. With a hint of sarcasm, she wondered whether William would share the same attitude about potential wardrobe malfunctions.

Looking at the price tag of the dress, she instinctively recoiled at the cost but then realized it was in Swedish Krona. When it came to spending, Loren had programmed herself long ago to not splurge on anything unless she absolutely needed it.

However, she came to Sweden armed with one of her biggest financial achievements from her discipline with being so strict with her finances.

A credit card she still held under her name, the same card her ex-boyfriend had exploited, maxing it out without her consent or knowledge. The deception turned out to be the first of many as she uncovered layers of his betrayal and infractions against her, both personally and financially.

This credit card, second only to her mortgage in size, represented the heaviest financial burden Loren had to bear alone. Every time she saw the card, it served as a stark reminder of her ex-boyfriend's profound betrayal, stirring up a nauseating mix of anger and resentment.

Through strict discipline and a level of frugality that surprised many, Loren had finally cleared the credit card debt. She vowed to use it again only for necessities or the occasional well-deserved treat. As she admired the ensemble coordinated by two women who had been so encouraging, Loren decided it was time to gift herself a completely new outfit. This one would make her feel alive and maybe a little more daring—a look she hoped William would, as Chelsea had delicately said to her months before, "cum in his pants the second he sees her."

Given the evening's forecast of cooler temperatures and the threat of showers, Loren also selected a beautiful overcoat in neutral tones to match the dress. The coat quickly became her favorite purchase of the day.

As Loren and Michelle prepared to leave the store, Britta wanted a promise from Loren to return before her trip back to Toronto. Loren was so dazzled by her experience with Britta that she eagerly agreed, hinting she might visit more than once. This dose of retail therapy had clearly worked its magic—Loren found herself eyeing other eye-catching pieces around the boutique. Loren’s excitement for fashion was definitely reborn.

Seeing it was time that most were enjoying fika, the two stopped first at a quaint coffee bar for one of their signature beverages, and then for some ice cream before heading to William's.

The hours had passed quickly, and Loren had all but forgotten to check her phone until it chimed with a text from William. Although she had let him know that she and Michelle had gone shopping, he was wondering where she was. William had already been home long enough for a nap and his message carried an underlying hint that he had missed Loren being in the bed with him.

Michelle motioned for Loren to hand her phone over to her as a smirk spread across her face.

Loren's eyes grew wide as she watched Michelle call her younger brother. She hoped he wouldn't answer with some hot opener as he did sometimes.

"I was hoping you'd be home already… I need my mouth on your pus—"

Instant regret fell upon Michelle's face as she shoved the phone back to Loren, muttering in Swedish loud enough for William to hear most of it.

William laughed—he wasn't able to fully piece everything together, but he assumed, at the very least, his sister had heard far more than she wanted to.

—

After a post-sex nap and a rather amorous dinner in bed with William, Loren leisurely started to get ready for the evening. She stepped into the shower and began to mentally plan her entire look between hair, makeup, and accessories. The excitement she felt made her almost giddy as she thought about getting a little buzz going and dancing with people she had met in William's friend group who had made her feel very comfortable and at ease.

Through the plumes of steam, a naked William emerged. He stepped into the shower and immediately grabbed Loren to devour her neck.

William said that the night was shaping up to be a much larger gathering than initially planned. Isla was coming with some of her friends as well—something Loren already knew, but a pang of anxiety still rippled in her stomach. William quickly mentioned that Isla had been warned by Alex that she was so far out of line with the way she treated Loren during their first introduction. Alex had also told Isla she had pegged Loren all wrong, and that she should maybe try and talk to her first before making assumptions about her.

As the pair washed each other between gentle kisses and some brief playful fondling, Loren suddenly realized that Margot, William's one-night hook-up in Saint Tropez, would likely be there.

The confidence that Loren felt earlier that day while shopping quickly evaporated. The thought of being in a group with Isla AND having to meet a girl that William had fucked not long ago made Loren's stomach twist into knots.

William immediately sensed the change in her demeanor as the realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

Loren looked at William with a concerned expression that, while remaining absolutely stunning, worried him as well. "So… I'm guessing Margot will likely be there tonight, right?" she said quietly.

Her question nearly took the breath out of William's lungs—he had forgotten about Margot.

William's eyes remained fixed on Loren's as she struggled to mask the growing disillusionment she felt about the evening.

All William could do was nod his head and hope that Margot didn't show.

Loren's unease stemmed not from any concern that he might have feelings for Margot, but more from the two mental images she had of William—the player she admired from afar and the man she had fallen for. Tonight, however, these two personas in Loren's mind were now going to collide right in front of her eyes, in a club, where William would undoubtedly be the center of attention.

She was very aware of the countless men and women that would be drawn to William, seeking some kind of interaction and attention.

Rather than risk feeling vulnerable or trying to fight for attention, Loren decided to stay on the fringes of William's inevitable spotlight throughout the evening and focus on enjoying herself. She accepted this as part of William's superstar life and felt grateful she could choose to remain on the periphery of the constant camera flashes capturing his every move.

William held her and spoke affectionately, reassuring her that everything would be okay.

Loren shelved the uncertainty, leaned into him, and decided to do her best to regain control of herself in this situation and do the best she could to just go with the flow.

Part of Loren regaining control was meticulously ensuring she looked flawless from head to toe. She knew that feeling self-assured in her appearance would boost her faith in herself—a reinforcing cycle of outer versus inner confidence she hoped would carry her through the evening.

After applying one last layer of lip gloss, Loren emerged to see William scrolling through his phone as he waited for her.

"Okay—I'm all set, I think," Loren exhaled as she slid her cell phone into her clutch.

Her outfit was mostly covered by the light and flowing overcoat she had bought. Even still, William was totally unprepared for just how fucking gorgeous she looked.

He sat for a moment, literally stunned, with his mouth agape as he visually absorbed every detail.

William stood up, adjusting the crotch in his pants to accommodate the rush of blood to first his cheeks, and then down to his dick.

"Loren—fuck… I'm… totally speechless…"

He opened her coat slightly to take a better look.

How she looked in that moment completely rattled William to his core and left him breathless.

“You can thank Michelle - her and her friend Britta were the ones that convinced me that I might be able to pull this off. You know as well as I do that this is sort of beyond my normal crocs and leggings,” Loren chuckled.

William mused that he might have to thank Michelle both genuinely and sardonically, for Loren was definitely going to be on a number of radars, all evening long.

—

Going out with the Nylanders and their seemingly endless circle of friends was an experience Loren could hardly have imagined. Even more impressive was their ability to all arrive within 15 minutes of each other. With Malin and Erik orchestrating the transportation logistics over the group chat, Ubers of the appropriate passenger size were ordered by neighborhood. William, Loren, Malin, Erik, Michelle, and her boyfriend Tomas shared one Uber. The three younger Nylander sisters and a few of their friends arrived in another, and so on down the line.

Loren breathed a subtle sigh of relief when she learned that Isla and her group of friends would be arriving a little later, along with Alex and a few of his close friends. While Loren felt she could handle an evening of snide remarks and sneers from Isla, it was the added presence of Margot that gave her a sinking feeling. Loren was almost certain that at the very least, Margot would be visually striking, but it was the other thoughts twisting in her mind that exacerbated her worries: Who initiated what between them. Was he immediately aroused by her. Was he vocal. Was the sex amazing. Did he want more after they were done.

As though he could sense she needed his reassurance, William softly grabbed Loren's hand, pulling her body towards him as they waited for the rest of their group in the parking lot behind the club.

"No shade to the other ladies, but you're in a whole other league... you're so fucking beautiful," he murmured in her ear. She felt his palms gently but firmly holding her around her waist.

He kissed her softly on her mouth - his tongue lightly grazing hers. His mouth moved slowly up her cheeks that felt warm to the touch, and landed on her forehead. Loren’s feelings of uncertainty began to float away, but an uncertainty of a different kind began to take root in William’s gut. It was a foreign feeling - one that William had begun to quickly examine in his mind.

As he and Loren stood together with his friends, her, now with her back to him as his hands instinctively stroked her hips, he felt so lucky to have her there.

As her body leaned back against his, William realized that the moment Loren stepped into the club that night, her radiant aura and effervescent personality would captivate everyone's attention.

William reflected that he had been that guy, once upon many times, standing along the dance floor watching the most beautiful woman in the place enchant every man. He also remembered the aftermath—the moments where he had turned on his own charm and wooed those same women into his arms, and his bed, at the end of the night.

With his hands circling more firmly around Loren's abdomen, he was struck with an unsettling realization. "His" Loren would be that woman—the one who would command attention and lingering glances without even trying or wanting to. He could see it all playing out in his mind: eyes following her as she passed them by, conversations suddenly halted so they could gawk at her face, her body. Admirers would approach her all night—offering her drinks, trying to strike up conversation, or worse yet, placing unwanted and unprompted touches on her body while she danced. Some guys might remain lusting over her from afar, but William feared there might be just as many who would try to shoot their shot with her.

That's when William realized it. That feeling that had begun to gnaw at him. A hint of jealousy that he had never experienced before, threatening to undermine his usual confidence. The time he and Loren had spent together during this trip had been nothing short of magical. He knew he had never meshed so flawlessly with another—outside of his family and close friends, of course. Loren could be his friend. She had been his confidant on multiple occasions. He craved all of her—mind, body, and soul. The thought of men watching her, approaching her… fantasizing about what they would do with her—given the chance—tied his stomach in knots.

Though they were slated to leave for Paris the next afternoon, suddenly it could not come soon enough. He felt the urge to convince her to come home with him that very moment instead of going dancing. He wasn't sure if the emotions swirling around in him were born from possessiveness or protectiveness of her, or a mixture of both, but the more he thought about the "what ifs," the more dread he felt inside.

While William pondered these thoughts, another Uber pulled up with the last of their group that had planned to enter together.

Rasmus, his girlfriend Lisa, Emil, Anders, and Ingrid all stepped out of the vehicle, thanked their driver, and made their way over to the awaiting group. Ingrid and Lisa immediately honed in on Loren's ensemble, gushing over her appearance. Loren looked back towards William and gave his hands a gentle squeeze of affection before stepping away to embrace the two women. Emil and Anders greeted William and then moved to Loren, each giving her a warm hug. Rasmus draped one arm around Lisa and the other around Loren, sighed, and in a droll tone said toward William, "Got my dates for tonight."

William just laughed while he searched for a clever comeback. "You wish," was all he could think of as they all walked towards the entrance.

Security opened the side door to the venue where Malin met up with her former co-worker, turned DJ, who lead them down a dark corridor. Laser lights of every colour cut through the shadows and the pounding bass with heavy reverb ricocheted off of every surface.

It was still early by night club standards as they passed by empty seating areas which lead to an expansive room boasting vaulted ceilings and a massive dancefloor. The group was led past the long black and gold bar to a roped off section which had magnums of champagne resting on beds of ice.

Coats were checked, champagne was poured and the music pulsated with rhythmic dance mixes of the past two decades.

Malin grabbed Loren’s and Lisa’s hands as they followed her friend to where he and another DJ would be working their magic with their complex control boards and multiple turntables. Introductions and greetings were exchanged, with Loren and Lisa meeting Sergio and Zack.

Sergio first spoke in Swedish to Loren, and when she apologized half in Swedish but followed up in English, he asked her where she was from.

“Canada - I’m Canadian,” Loren said smiling. Sergio’s face lit up as he turned to Zack, motioned to Loren and repeated where she was from.

Zack adjusted some slide levers and as a new mix began, he spun a new vinyl record on its edges before placing it squarely on the turntable. A the familiar beat of blockbuster hit soon pounded throughout the space while the ladies whooped and danced behind the DJ’s.

They made their way back down to the dance floor, and it wasn't long before all the women in the Nylander party were out on the floor, their enticing moves on full display.

Despite the impeccable attire, flawless hair and makeup of all the women, each striking in her own way, Loren still stood out in the growing crowd.

The men watched from the sidelines, sipping their drinks and admiring their respective girlfriends as they bounced and swayed. William's eyes were locked on Loren, her fluid movements mesmerizing him as he watched her body. She was already fully integrated into the group of women as they each showed off their moves playfully as they whooped and hollered at each other encouragingly.

Loren's vibrant smile and infectious energy seemed to illuminate the entire dance floor. She gathered up her long, layered mane in her hands to cool off, but through William's eyes, she only grew hotter by the second. He couldn't help but notice the intensifying glances she was receiving from small groups of men lining the floor's perimeter. Rasmus, standing next to William, followed his friend's gaze—first to Loren, then Lisa, and finally to the men watching their girlfriends dance. Rasmus nudged William and nodded toward the bar, suggesting they get a drink and loosen up. Their ladies were just having fun and didn't need to be subjected to their men watching them like hawks.

As one song blended into another, the ladies decided to take a break and return to their exclusive cordoned-off area. Upon arrival, Loren's stomach flipped when she spotted Isla surrounded by her friends—all sleek, slender, and unmistakably Scandinavian.

Loren's eyes searched the space for William, but he, Rasmus, and Anders had ventured elsewhere. As she entered the area, she felt Isla's stares like daggers slicing her skin. Michelle and Ingrid noticed Isla's snide expression and muttered under their breath that they'd gladly slap that scowl off her face.

Loren did her best—she tried to smile and acknowledge Isla and her friends as she walked towards Michelle and Ingrid, exhaling deeply when Michelle handed her a full flute of champagne.

"Fuck—she really can't stand me, can she?" Loren said rhetorically.

Ingrid shook her head at Loren. "No, this isn't about you. She's threatened by you, plain and simple."

"But why? She's beautiful and so unbelievably stylish—she literally looks perfect to me. I have nothing on her." Loren looked around, avoiding eye contact with Isla's group. She silently wished William was nearby, just for a quick affectionate glance to help ease her growing anxiety. "I actually think she's brilliant for following her path with her vintage clothing channel. I could never put together outfits the way she can," Loren concluded.

Michelle scoffed and shook her head at Loren. “How you still pay her compliments after she’s treated you so badly - Loren - you are really something else,” Michelle said with admiration.

Soon Loren once again was surrounded by the women she was completely comfortable with. They chatted easily and moved their hips to their favourite songs as more drinks were poured and served.

Isla’s friend group was an energetic bunch, with Isla as its leader - her wild side was beginning to make an appearance as boisterous voice carried throughout.

But what jolted Loren is what Isla had begun to announce to her friends, loud enough so Loren was sure to hear.

“…they’re not even dating - Alex told me….William said point blank to him that she’s NOT his girlfriend.”

As the music continued to vibrate in the background, Isla paused as someone asked an inaudible question.

Loren’s cheeks began to burn as Lisa turned to her, having heard Isla’s scathing commentary.

Isla eventually resumed, talking overtop the bass line. “….No - no….he said he’s single - he’s not dating her exclusively….”

Loren heard Isla’s laugh as she followed up with what Loren could only assume were further remarks bordering on savage, about Loren’s character.

Loren tried not to wilt from the words uttered by Isla. Lisa leaned into Michelle, speaking into her ear about Isla’s ultimate rudeness and removing Loren from the situation.

Just as the women were about to depart, Alex came up to the group, greeting everyone with hugs. He embraced Loren and speaking into her ear, he told her how amazing she looked.

Blushing, Loren thanked him as he pulled her close again. “Have you seen William around?”

They turned to scan the club, peering past bodies and over people’s heads.

Loren finally spotted him, her face once again flushed hot when she saw Erik, William and Rasmus mingling and laughing with a group of women at the bar. The owner of the club seemed to be making sure that William and Rasmus were receiving preferential treatment by the myriad of scantily clad female servers.

Loren bit the inside of her lip, willing herself not to react but after Isla’s statements about what William and her were - and were not - it felt like the wind had been knocked out of her.

Lisa acted quickly - first telling Michelle that her William’s an idiot and that she and Ingrid were going to take Loren and try and track down Malin and the other Nylander sisters.

Michelle, having just about enough of everyone’s bullshit decided first to deal with William. She drew her boyfriend close as she quickly summarized the most recent events. She had to scold Tomas not to get involved as he was at the ready to give Isla a piece of his mind. She followed up with an appreciative kiss as she adored his protective intentions.

William smiled at Michelle as she glided up towards him at the bar. William suddenly got the impression that the smile Michelle returned his way was not necessarily a friendly one.

Michelle's slightly harsh tone confirmed her displeasure. "Enjoying yourself with these ladies?" she asked pointedly.

“Nah - it’s not like that. The owner is just doing his thing…we just got to talking a little bit while we got a drink.”

Michelle’s annoyance was beginning to show. “Oh - I assume you’re getting Loren something while you were back here too?”

“Well - yeah, actually…I need to ask her what she wants. She still dancing?”

Michelle smiled, but William knew it now masked growing irritation. "Oh, I actually don't know if she's in the mood to dance right now, since our other brother's girlfriend decided to mouth off about you. What was it again? How you told Alex that Loren's not your girlfriend and that you're 'certifiably single,'" Michelle said matter-of-factly.

William’s jaw clenched as he looked around to try and find Isla.

“Don’t you dare say anything to her. I don’t know what’s in your head but the last thing you should do is cause a scene - you know Isla won’t go down without a fight, no matter how wrong she might be. It will embarrass Loren more,” Michelle warned William. “Just leave it - I’m going to say something to her…and it will be brilliant because that’s me. You and Alex drew the short end of the sticks in the intelligence department and you’ll fuck it up so badly the second you open your mouths.”

“Jesus Michelle - okay, I get it” William chuckled before continuing “….but the worst fucking part is I had said all of that shit BEFORE Loren came here. She might not be my “official” anything but fuck - I want to spend more time with her - wanted to spend the time that we hadn’t gotten the chance to do back in Toronto. Until she understands more about my life and how it will affect hers - I…just wanted more time. I don’t think she wants to rush anything either….”

Michelle thought for a moment and for once, she agreed with William - but she would never let him know that. She stepped away while still looking at William and then at Rasmus. “You guys are really so fucking dumb.”

Rasmus's expression shifted to one of mild offence, and his shoulders hunched forward defensively. He turned to William and silently mouthed, "What did I do?"

As she started to walk away, Michelle then spotted Isla and a couple of friends heading to the ladies room.

Round 2 Michelle thought to herself.

Isla and Michelle had never quite seen eye to eye. Michelle didn’t care about Isla’s career path on reality TV, nor did she care about Isla’s future career as a stylist and fashion influencer. All she cared about is how Isla treated her extended family.

At best, Michelle had learned to accept Isla for who she was, as long as Alex was happy. She'd become skilled in dealing with Isla by simply ignoring her sometimes oblivious backhanded comments. However, this situation with Loren had gone too far. Michelle's protective older sister instincts kicked in, prompting her to intervene before William and Isla could have any kind of public confrontation.

When Michelle opened the ladies room door, the conversation between Isla and her two friends immediately ceased.

Michelle smiled and coolly greeted the women turning to look at her reflection in the mirror that spanned the width of the wall above the sinks.

Speaking Swedish, Michelle asked if they were having fun.

Isla cautiously replied that they were and asked the same of Michelle.

"Oh, I was having a phenomenal time with Loren and the girls. Did you say 'Hi' to Loren at all?"

One of Isla's friends scoffed.

"Oh—right, I forgot. You can't stand her," Michelle said calmly. "And stomp on her every chance you get," she added.

Isla shook her head. "Oh my god—it's not that bad. Poor little Canadian girl can't take a joke?"

"No one, least of all you, should be joking about anyone's private relationship. Not everyone wants to put every piece of their relationships—oh right—and their drunken hook-ups on TikTok."

Isla had no defense on that one, since she had done exactly that with Alex previously.

"And despite all of your bad behavior, do you know what Loren said about you?" Michelle wasn't waiting for a response and immediately divulged how Loren managed to compliment Isla, calling her brilliant for her fashion talents, someone who always looks so perfect and stylish. Michelle incorporated some additional slags that Isla made about Loren which Michelle had heard through the rumour mill, and continued to chastise Isla. Incidentally, Isla’s friends, who stood by watching her get an earful, silently agreed with Michelle. They knew Isla wasn’t all bad - she had good qualities but each one of them had their own war stories with their friend. They just took the good with the bad.

Once Michelle finished saying what needed to be said, she wished the ladies a good night and walked out.

Judging by the stunned look on Isla's face, the message seemed to be received. Of course, Loren's appeal to Isla's vanity, spoken to Isla on Loren’s behalf by Michelle, worked like a charm.

With her work done, Michelle approached Tomas as he, William, and Rasmus stood scanning the throngs of dancing bodies. Rasmus pointed out Alex and his good friend Linus on the other side of the dance floor. As the group crossed, William spotted Emil and Anders people-watching at another stand-up table.

While William chatted briefly with Alex about what Isla had said to Loren, he focused more on Emil and Anders two tables over. Leaned up against the table, the two men seemed to be deep in conversation. He tried to see what his two close friends were gesturing towards before he interrupted Alex's story and said he'd be right back. Alex's speech was slurred, so William figured his abrupt departure from the conversation would quickly be forgotten.

Not wanting to be saddled alone with his inebriated brother, Rasmus told Alex to pipe down and told him to follow William.

William walked up and patted Emil and Anders on the back. He motioned to Emil. “How’s your night going? See anyone you like?”

Emil shot William a knowing smirk, as though the answer was too obvious, and took a swig of his beer. “Not anyone that seems to be available - yet, anyway.” Emil chuckled at William’s unserious warning that he’ll pop him one if he keeps going down that path. The longtime friends already had a sidebar discussion, clearing the air between them. Emil and William valued their friendship to let resentments continue to fester.

“Saw Loren and Lisa - they really look amazing tonight,” he said to both William and Rasmus, who had joined them.

William’s face lit up. “Oh yeah - we’re looking for them….where are they?”

Emil motioned with his beer. “I think Lisa’s talking with Ingrid - but it looks like Loren is still talking to -”

Anders interrupted and swatted William’s arm. “It’s Simon Lööf….dude - fuck, we’ve been watching him and his boys watch the girls for awhile now. He finally went up and started talking to Lisa and Loren - well, I guess just talking with Loren now.”

Simon Lööf was an extremely handsome, Swedish triple threat of actor, model and rather good hockey player in his own right. William watched as Simon continually leaned over to say something to Loren, and she would then respond, smiling her beautiful smile back at him.

Emil nudged William’s arm. “She looked a bit upset earlier - did something happen between you two?”

“It’s kind of fucked up…I’ll tell you later, man.”

William continued to watch Loren and Simon's exchange. Simon was obviously very invested in Loren, but William couldn't discern much from Loren—she always smiled and seemed engaged when talking to anyone, so he hoped it was just her merely having her usual warm conversation. Regardless, watching Loren from afar, talking with a gorgeous guy—who was already pretty successful and whose star was still rising—left William restless and wanting to interject. Would it appear to Loren that he's insecure and jealous or simply wanting to be next to her?

Before William could make a move or just remain standing with Emil, Zack and Sergio, the evening's DJs, took to the microphones and reminded the crowd it was "Ladies Night," announcing, "All the ladies need to be treated right—especially the single ones!"

They told all the ladies that are single to come out onto the dancefloor - and for them to put their hands up - showing their ringless ring fingers, implying that if the guys want them, they’re gonna need to put a ring on it.

Emil glanced at William, wincing slightly as they watched Malin and Ingrid coax Loren away from Simon and onto the dance floor, only to slink off and abandon her there.

The DJs had defined "single" as completely unattached—making Loren the sole member of their friend group who fit the bill. William's heart sank a little as he watched Loren standing there, labeled as a single, unattached woman. He couldn't help but feel a sense of regret, thinking that if he'd stayed by her side instead of being drawn away by the club owner's offer of free drinks and other distractions, she might not be on the dance floor now, the target of so many eyes ogling her, advertising she is single.

On cue, the opening for "Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)" by Beyoncé could be heard, with whistles and cat calls coming from the crowd.

Loren and another woman of similar age quickly found themselves at the center of the "single ladies" group. Their moves meshed surprisingly well, especially for strangers who had just met on the dance floor. Having met the DJs earlier, Sergio grabbed the microphone from his platform and pointed at Loren, while hollering, "Ahhhhh—yeeeeeeeeeeees—Oooooohhh Canada, gooooo Canada!"

Despite never being fully comfortable in any spotlight, Loren was having a blast. She had forgotten about Isla, about Margot, and about seeing William surrounded by women. She wasn't even quite sure where William was in the club, but she wasn't overly concerned at that moment. She knew at the very least that she was surrounded by amazing ladies in her group who had her back—ladies whom she hoped to forge long friendships with.

But what truly shocked everyone was watching Isla's venture onto the dance floor toward Loren. In her own way, she sought forgiveness by dancing alongside Loren, offering additional moral support. Isla added her own flair and attitude to the movements, which seemed to complement and coincide with Loren's.

William watched Loren—her body movements were seductive yet elegant as she lost herself in the rhythm. He was just as surprised as anyone to see Isla grinding up against Loren. While it was a truce offered by Isla, it was Loren who, all along, never allowed herself to be dragged down by the drama. Instantaneously, Loren just let it all roll off her back. In this case, killing Isla with kindness won out over the meddling bullshit that had been thrown her way.

She looked so carefree—William worried that if he approached her after the song, he would burst that bubble—that her demeanor would change.

As Beyoncé sang her final "uh-oh," which blended as sound bytes well into the next song, Loren hugged her new single dancing friend and wished her a good night. Isla pointed in the direction of Malin and the others who were now dancing off to one side of the main dance floor.

There were throngs of people everywhere as the music continued to pump out heavy bass beats. As Loren approached the group, Malin—who may have had too many Swedish Margaritas—threw her arms around Loren and told her what a good sport she was—and that she was too hot not to be out there shaking her tits.

Among the women she stood with, Loren was the most sober of the bunch. Although she was having fun, she began to feel lonely for William and became anxious not knowing his whereabouts in the club. She wasn't thinking one thing or another necessarily—she was just anxious to find him.

She took her phone out of her clutch and began typing a message to William, unsure if he would see it. It was a sweet and simply put message that she was missing him and was trying to find him.

Loren told the ladies that she was going to look for William and disappeared into the crowd. She did her best to scooch behind bodies, being careful not to step on anyone, be stepped on, or get jostled around as she shimmied through the crowd.

Loren was trying to navigate through the dancing bodies, all the while, hands belonging to inebriated men began trying to pull her into dance with them or touch her body. It was only for a handful of seconds, but after a number of hands clasped onto her inappropriately, she was desperate to find William.

She thought she had caught a glimpse of Emil when another hand pulled her in his direction.

Loren looked up to see Simon. "I was just coming to find you—see if you wanted to have a drink with me? Your dancing, by the way—was awesome."

Loren looked up at Simon's face and smiled apologetically. "I'm really sorry—thank you, but I really need to find my—"

She saw another figure approach. It was William, and she had never been so happy to see him.

He could see Loren was a little frazzled. "Hey—I've been looking everywhere for you," William chuckled in a light and friendly tone.He and Simon proceeded to do quick but amicable introductions in Swedish, as Loren stood next to William. She wanted his arms around her so badly, but she just smiled as they wrapped up their conversation.

William gently placed his hand on her back as Loren said goodbye to Simon. He watched as William guided Loren over to the tables where the rest of William's crew stood.

The guys applauded Loren for her showmanship on the dancefloor as she laughed and covered her face with a slight show of embarrassment. William leaned in close and almost felt her body vibrating with adrenaline.

He looked down at her smiling. "Single Ladies, eh?"

"Yeah, well—wasn't that like your go-to karaoke song a few years ago? Fuck, I could have used some back-up out there with the hand movements…" Loren feigned doing the classic Beyoncé hand movements from the song.

"Well, you almost nabbed a Swedish movie star—that was Simon Lööf, y'know," William said coyly, his hand starting to travel lower, resting just above the roundness of her ass cheek.

Loren shot an unconcerned look at William. "No idea—I couldn't really hear him anyway."

William's hand began to travel around her waist. Although the music continued to blare and the crowd danced and bounced to the rhythm, the room felt almost serene when she felt William press his body tightly behind hers.

He kissed her shoulder and, as quietly as he could, which really was just yelling at a lower volume, asked her if she wanted to go and get a drink.

Loren smiled and fished her phone out of her purse and texted him a response.

L - A drink, a dark corner and you—preferably in that order.

William read the message over her shoulder and gave her waist an affectionate squeeze. He took her by the hand, and within minutes, the drink had been drunk, the dark corner had been easily found, and William Nylander, with such fervor, nearly had Loren lifted off the ground against the wall as he kissed her passionately.

He suddenly broke the kiss, his lips still traveling down her neck. "You'll need to pack a few things tomorrow morning," he said as he nipped her at the base of her neck.

She gasped at the sensation and breathed out, "Why?"

"We're going to Paris—we fly out tomorrow afternoon."

The stunned look on Loren's face as a smile teased her lips was everything William wanted to see.

He nuzzled her by her ear. "I just want to spend a few days totally alone with you. We can do whatever you want, even if it's nothing."

"'That' will never be nothing. 'That' is the best something in the entire universe," Loren said suggestively.

William moaned. "What the fuck are we doing here still—let's just go say goodbye and get outta here," he said with a chuckle.

As they made their rounds, with some of their group opting to leave at the same time, a pair of blue eyes watched Loren and William from afar. As Margot stood at a nearby table nursing her drink, she watched her crush, William, walk away with her. Ever since Isla pointed Loren out to her earlier on, she watched - with a heavy heart - William watching Loren.

Margot almost approached William a couple of times throughout the night since it seemed he and Loren weren't exactly together at the club. But each time, he either moved or she could see his eyes fixed on Loren.

She knew that William was completely enthralled with Loren, and she knew he never once looked at her the same way, even when he was inside of her. But yet, it's all she could think about—his kiss, his hands, and him being inside of her.

The only thing that made her feel better was knowing Loren only had another week or so in Stockholm and then she would be heading back to Toronto.

Margot mused she might still have a shot with him before the summer ends.

[heathersdesk]

Confession Time:

I don't like Come Follow Me and never have. And I haven't been able to articulate why until I tried to buckle down and start with the Book of Mormon this year.

The first paragraph of the first section for 1 Nephi 1-5 ends with this sentence:

"Overall, there is power in this imperfect family’s examples of faith."

I was rocked by that a little bit the first time I read it.

I thought to myself, "Wow. Are we really going to confront the hero worship and unhealthy worldviews our community has internalized about this book because of the way the negative behaviors of the characters are never challenged or confronted for what they are? That many of the details are included because they're cautionary tales about what NOT to do, but you'd never know that based on how the material is presented and talked about by our people at large because the conversation is driven by the needless compulsion to focus on the same tired perspectives of faith promotion that the subjects sometimes don't deserve?"

*reads the section, which is full of the same "I will go and do" about Nephi that they always do, without once confronting the conflicts, doubts, and struggles of anyone but Nephi in any serious way, some of which are exacerbated (if not cause) by Nephi being insufferable and self-righteous to everyone around him*

Nephi is an unreliable narrator, y'all. You're not supposed to believe everything he says, thinks, and does. Especially when he's younger. His view of the people around him and their motivations lack depth because he was totally unconcerned with their feelings and struggles. He was bad at helping and honoring people in their darkest moments, having nothing better to offer them for support than glib and shallow assertions that they would be struggling less if they were more like him. An attitude he learned from his father's blatant and unapologetic favoritism.

Nephi is not an example of what to do when there is conflict in your family. And it takes him until "O wretched man that I am" to realize he's not the most important man in every room. His disrespect for other people in his leadership is the reason they want nothing to do with him, and it takes him a lifetime of chasing people away from God to realize he's not as good of a person as he thinks he is. He has failed people from his need to be seen as being better than he is, better than everyone else is at loving God and knowing what that means. And this becomes a cultural artifact, a baked-in foregone conclusion in the minds of his people that ends up shaping their self-perceptions until it destroys them. His personal failures, viewed for their long-term ramifications and consequences, is part of what this book is supposed to be about.

But sure. Let's do "I will go and do" again, without pondering in any serious way if Nephi's interpretation of his interaction with the Holy Ghost might be lacking in credibility because the alternative is to say something closer to "We really botched this job and killing Laban was not a forgone conclusion or a necessary evil that I can acquit myself of because God said it was okay."

Maybe we don't have to believe that. Maybe we can examine how our culture in the modern church has perpetuated this same logical fallacy with vigilante violence, justified by appeals to this exact story.

Point being, never read the story of Nephi without keeping it firmly fixed in your mind that he's going to regret and repent of most of this later. That cross reference to 2 Nephi 4 is probably the most important thing you can have in your margins every time he says or does something totally uncalled for. 🖖

[violetsiren90]

Content warning: this is a milestone post, but I do discuss mental and emotional struggles.

I recently logged on after being away for a while and realized I reached a milestone I never ever ever intended to achieve, and it hit me like a ton of bricks.

...700 followers? 700 people who willingly chose me, a little blog in the middle of the void?? Who for some reason want to read what I write, and who are so so kind and lovely and generous when engaging with my scribblings. When I saw that number I just burst into tears.

I'm not good at articulating my struggles. I will listen to others' cares eagerly, and encourage them to speak of them, but I can never seem to take my own advice. When I go into a dark place, I just hide. Hide the ugly, hide the broken, for fear of burdening others with the mess.

I haven't been doing a lot of writing lately. I've been pretty much totally disengaged with it, and my hobbies and enjoyments, apart from little windows of inspiration here and there. I've been disengaged with nearly everything. But I have gone back and looked at some of my writing and some of my characters, and I've realized that I consistently write OC's who are scared of being a burden.

Maybe that's my core fear. Of not being useful to others, and so of having no value as a person. Maybe that has something to do with emotionally rearing my parents and all nine of my younger siblings. Maybe it comes from having not been praised except from when I was helpful.

I worked really hard to make myself a safe and unconditionally loving person for people who ultimately never ever choose me. People who were at least supposed to do that because I was little and innocent and it was their role to emotionally nurture and protect me. But for whatever reason, never did. Or never could. I don't know.

What I do know is that I have to decide to choose myself, and that's the goal. I'm working on it. Little by little. Moment by moment.

You all here, in this space, make me feel chosen. And I don't want to run away from that because I'm scared of being a burden. I want to come to you ugly and broken and human and enough.

I wish so much that I could hug each and every one of you. Thank you for choosing me. You make me feel loved and worthy of love.

All my love and gratitude,

💜Violet

[fredwkong]

I’m a 30 year old feminine gay guy, not really into sports or anything like that. My dad is the complete opposite of me, he’s a muscular former jock who’s obsessed with football. The two of us aren’t really close. I wish me and my dad were closer.

The genie barges in the door halfway through dinner. He’s shirtless, with huge linebacker muscles. As your dad inhales to bellow some kind of slur at the entry of a huge Arabic man, the genie flicks his fingers in a complicated pattern. “Not to worry,” he rumbles, “I’m your new life coach.”

Your dad sits back down in his chair, looking confused and muddled. “Right…” he murmurs. “Life coach…”

You’re looking gleefully at your zonked out dad when the genie gestures at you, as well. “Nah, you too, boy,” he says. Your brain slows down, and you hear your voice say, slowly, “Whatever you say…”

Over the next few weeks, the genie coaches you and your dad 24/7. You move through your days in a haze, going to the gym, eating tons of protein, getting all new clothes. Your skin darkens as your muscles grow, and you swear your dad’s looking younger. One day, he and the genie go out. You do push-ups while they’re gone, just like the genie told you. When they come back, your dad’s gotten his buzzcut bleached. He looks your age. You struggle to articulate why that’s weird.

“Don’t worry,” says the genie, whispering in your ear as he puts a durag on your head. “That’s not your dad, that’s your bro. You play football together every day.”

He’s right. You don’t know why it was weird. That’s your bro, your roommate, your fuckbuddy, your closest friend. It’s always been this way.

Another wish fulfilled.

Got a wish you need twisted? Send an ask! Remember to say “I wish” so the genie hears exactly what you’re wishing for.

[hallohartje]

thoughts on episodes 9 and 10

it's very refreshing to watch The Boyfriend because the men that were chosen to be on the show are, for the most part, very good at communicating and being respectful and caring of their other house mates. watching episode 9 and seeing how the boys navigated the fight between dai and shun was really reassuring.

yes, ikuo maybe overstepped his bounds in trying to stage an intervention but it's a mistake made by a young person who has to make mistakes in order to learn from them. watching the rest of the boys try to speak to each other and understand feelings is really great. alan's words to dai is especially caring and he also made sure to reassure ikuo that things like this happen / it's going to be okay

while i wish the whole show lasted longer i'm very happy with the episodes we got. not everyone on the show is going to get together and not everyone is going to be able to decide how things are meant to progress for months. i felt kazuto's decision to slowly explore a relationship with alan after the show ended is very understandable and if he decides to make that public down the line i'll be happy to see it. and if he doesn't, i'll respect that because it's not really something they owe viewers of the show.

small, unrelated thoughts:

i really hope next time we'll get more unfiltered conversations between cast members, especially friend groups. it's so clear that ryota and shun are good friends in the limited b-roll we get, as are taeheon and gensei.

it's very interesting to see how some of the boys dropped their gyaru/party boy sides as the days passed. i think dai, alan (and ikuo) all needed to slowly become more comfortable with silence and giving space to let connections form

the mix of older and younger men benefited the show. i think taeheon, gensei and alan all were able to speak with some wisdom regarding communication, especially in advising shun and ryota (who admitted in the final episode he struggles to articulate his thoughts and feelings)

while usak was not able to stay for the full season i feel he came across as genuine and showed his real self in the episodes he appeared in. of course, it's very interesting that the boys all treated usak with a certain level of deference -- while all of them are attractive they also know that usak is really desirable (despite the chicken milkshakes)

when taeheon cried at the final episode saying that the boys helped give him the courage to be himself i was right there with him. it's so hard to disappoint family and asian parents especially. i hope he realizes he is incredibly brave for being himself and sharing his story. while gay rights are gaining acceptance in asia there's still a long way to go, and his story will really speak to many of us here who hope for a better life but don't know if the cost of being out is worth it.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

bpp lemme be sappy and incoherent for a min…

i saw this tiktok of bts’ solo era so far and i just wanna say that i’m glad that they know army doesn’t expect anything from them but music. GOOD MUSIC. like historically so many idols have gone on to do non music things after their peaks but bts knows that the core of their fandom are music fans. fans of THEIR music especially. bts as a whole prides themselves as being musicians and army prides ourselves as being fans of musicians.

idk. i guess i just wanted to appreciate how diverse this era has been musically and how proud i am of them doing the music they want even if i dont always enjoy it cuz someone else is bound to, yknow? i’m so freaking proud of their output. they’re amazing

***

It just tugs on your heartstrings doesn’t it? Even Jin who doesn’t have a full album yet, the song he made with Coldplay in only a few months doesn’t feel rushed or half-assed. It feels like a (sappy) sweet letter (in Chris Martin’s ink) from a friend you’ll be seeing before too long.

From Hoseok producing the beauty that is Jack in the Box; to Joon’s archive of his 20s with some of the best collaborations for a Korean artist in Indigo; to Jimin’s episodic processing of the personal struggles he dealt with during the pandemic in FACE; to Yoongi’s culmination of the AGUST D trilogy in D-DAY; to Taehyung’s expression of the music that most feels like him in Layover; and finally, Jungkook pushing himself out of his comfort zone to make a full album in a language he doesn’t speak, showcasing his skill set of ever-improving vocal ability, in classic pop songs in several genres that he’s selected to showcase his personal taste.

All the boys have done well. The assignment was to serve music, and they’ve all delivered. Some songs are more my taste than others, but I can acknowledge the work they’ve all done and I respect it.

And this isn’t really what you’re talking about Anon, but please let me go on a short tangent here.

I’ve seen chatter here and there about how Jungkook isn’t mature in his interview answers. About how he apparently comes across as a clueless puppet who can’t articulate his views eloquently, but like I said about the discourse around Jimin’s apparent lack of contribution to BTS, or Jin’s apparent lack of skill - sometimes that criticism is warranted, but most of the time people who say things like this frankly have no idea what they’re talking about.

A few of you have sent me asks months back, to give my view on Jungkook the way I’ve done about Jimin, Yoongi, Hoseok etc recently. I didn’t answer because I was waiting for Golden. Now that the album’s out, I’m sitting with it and will respond to those asks before too long.

But before that, I want to draw attention to this excerpt from Jungkook’s interview in The Atlantic.

*

In my draft reply to the asks wanting me to talk about Jungkook, I start with saying he’s a very simple person. That’s both his charm and the thing that confuses a lot of people about him, because many of us are anything but simple, so when faced with a man like him living the life he’s living, some people respond with suspicion or bewilderment.

Simple motivations, simple words, simple considerations - this is what I’ve observed in JK for the past 10 years. He’s younger than all the members but no less intelligent that the rest of the guys on average. He knows how to communicate what he means, he just usually has a preference to do it simply, and that’s what he did in that paragraph.

I’m excited to see how he’s going to become a global pop star, even bigger than he is now, because he’s certainly got the talent and skill to show real results. I’m proud of all the projects the boys have put out so far.

By their own words, one point of Chapter 2 was to showcase their individual colours, to show the world who makes up a group like BTS, so people could more clearly see what each member brings to the table, while the guys push themselves to learn new things, expand their skillsets, and hone their individual artistry to create a stronger, more nimble group.

*

So far so good. It seems to be going according to plan despite everything lol. I’m excited to get Joon’s next work, PJM2, Hobi’s release, Jin’s album, and all the other goodies lined up for us in Chapter 2. It’s been a trip and it’s only going to get wilder.

[cannellee]

how did you get so good at writing? i'm so deprived of Tokyo Rev content (not that there isn't alot but I read so much that I basically refresh AO3 and tumblrs tags every day to see if anything new has been posted), that i'm almost to the breaking point of a Thanos "fine i'll do it myself" and starting up writing again Is it just practice? Is it better to post cringey writing that isn't that good ;-; I think I fall into the trap of making any OC or y/n Mary Sue and some authors write with such prose and emotion that i'm like dang how can I write like that love your work!!!! always re-reading <3

first of all thank you so much for all of your kind messages!!! you're literally so sweet😭

(I really tried to be useful and concise, I hope it's not too messy/long : i'm definitely not a real author so my tips might be really bad and specific too😭)

I actually started writing tokyorev abo content precisely because of that reason, I felt like I read everything about it and I couldn't find anything more, especially one with scenarios I actually like. this is why I started my blog!

I honestly wasn't so sure about opening my own blog on tumblr. of course you're bound to compare your work to other authors out there who are definitely wayyy better at writing than you, which is why I hesitated a lot.

but! I already had an account on wattpad where I posted fics, so I felt like my cringey era was behind me (it was easier for me to start here because i knew what my mistakes were when writing and what i struggled with. whereas, when i just started on wattpad, i really felt unsure if i was doing correctly + i was younger, so less sure of myself). but wattpad really helped me see what made my work cringey, what parts were unnecessary and stuff like that.

but what is so frustrating is how bad my writing is in english compared to how I'm able to write in my maternal language. like, when I read other posts and everything with better vocabulary, grammar, who know how to articulate sentences and words, you can tell it's something you can only achieve by being reallyyy comfortable with english. I'm not saying I struggle with english or anything, but the language barrier was one of my biggest doubts when I thought about starting posting fics here on tumblr.

also! when I write something and think it's cringey, I let it marinate for a few days and read it again. it's easier to judge my writing when I put some distance with it, then I correct my mistakes and stuff like that. but really, writing and writing is the only way you'll be able to improve, so it should really not stop you!

but in the end, I don't think anybody ever started writing fics and was automatically good at it. you really have to try and see what works and what doesn't. youre able to see what post gets more attention than the other and try and understand why : is it because of a character or the scenario was better or is it your writing ? feedbacks on your work really help actually, so don't be afraid to try even if youre not fully convinced and confident! I posted cringey stuff too and I still do sometimes😭 I know people do a wayy better job than me, but I really like to write so I don't let it stop me from posting.

and for the y/n character, I try to make her and her reactions as neutral as possible and make her do stuff anyone would do in those situations. but I honestly can't deny that I sometimes fall into those stereotypical y/n writing, which I actually enjoy☠️. but I really try to have her say normal stuff, not describe her too much and basically just think of her as the most basic girl you could meet (generic ahh traits : kind, sweet, bubbly, soft spoken...). some people hate that and some don't, I just write what I'm most comfortable with.

same, if you to start writing you should start by doing stuff and scenarios which you really like and inspire you. don't go and try to write something you know people will like, but rather something you're confident in writing because that's a character you like and know how to describe, and because you have so much ideas which would really fit him etc.

and what helped me are the headcanons with the lists. maybe you noticed, maybe you didn't, but I used to list stuff when I started posting. it's just easier to structure my ideas, to see them more clearly. writing huge paragraphs are actually more of a hardwork I think, because everything has to follow the precedent idea and it has to be comprehensible, linked to what you're gonna say next etc. if you list what you wanna say, you can talk about how a character's personality is like and then change the subject radically without having to think and care about the transitions and overall plan (of course if it's too out of pocket it looks weird, but I hope you understand what I mean)

and if you want to write stories and not do little headcanons, what I do when I'm stuck and don't know what to write is that I also sometimes only write a part I really like and leave the beginning (or any other part) for another time when I'll be more inspired. I really don't have any hierarchy when I'm trying to find ideas, I wait for them to come naturally. I don't know what else I could say, it's really messy lmao😭

I hope you found it useful! you definitely will find people who write way better than me and who can help and guide you better than that, with better tips... that was more like my experience on tumblr than anything else, but I hope it could help you!!

[rightplace--wrongperson]

alien [y.j.]

jeongin × male reader (afab)

word count: 1362 / characters count: 5800

content: transboys feelings, dysphoria, depression thoughts, anxiety, fluffy, comfort

after a long day of training for a comeback, yang jeongin arrives at home and sees his boyfriend struggling. that's a work for 'super-boyfriend-material'!

While Y/n is in the kitchen room, the front door was knocked by a familiar sequence. The boy stands and walks to the living room. After a fast inhale-exhale session, he opens the door.

- Hey, baby.

Jeongin give a forehead kiss at Y/n, then takes out his sneakers to put on comfortable shoes. While this scene was happening, his boyfriend walked to the coach with his arms crossed.

The singer gave a look at Y/n, who offered a small smile. Seeing this as an invitation, Jeongin walks closer to his boyfriend, arms open to a hug.

- Hm... I haven't taken a shower yet, Innie. Later, okay? Go put your stuff in the bedroom while I prepare your meal.

Jeongin stepped back and looked at Y/n's face. He gives an upside-down look at him, looking for anything that explains the act of his love.

- Are you okay, sweetheart?

The man puts his arms beside his body and closes his hand. With a little movement of his mouth, he articulates an answer.

- Nothing to worry, baby. You have too much going on, so mind your business - he does a small smile - Go take a shower, baby. I'm going to the kitchen.

- Sure?

Y/n, who had already turned the back, looked behind and nodded.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ♡ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the middle of the night, Jeongin wakes up in his bed, swearing. He was having a bad dream. At this, he was running at some maze for something that he couldn't achieve. It doesn't matter how much he tried. He wouldn't be able to see what that version of him was trying to put his hands in.

The bed has the perfect size for a couple. Looking at the white-coloured space, everything he can see is the light of the moon passing through the clouds, buildings, and window. Of course, that satellite must have been so strong to keep illuminating humanity!, he thinks.

Washing his thoughts away, he looked at the empty place beside him. Empty place... where Y/n should be. Taking his blanket out, he put the comfort slipper at the bed and stood up to search for his love.

At the door, he saw the lights of the principal bathroom on. He knows it is his boyfriend, so he silently walks until the door to discover what is going on.

At the bathroom, Y/n is in front of the big mirror, his face only being illuminated by the lantern of the cell phone. His face is a bit contorted and his expressions are dour to read. Looking at his eyes, it’s easy to figure out that Jeongin’s lover probably is trying hard not to cry.

- Damn, this shitty again… Not now.

The man takes off his shirt slowly, and doesn't look like he really wants to do this. The piece of cloth is folded delicately, and Y/n keeps his eyes far away from the reflex next to him. When he finally ends, he hesitantly raises his sight to what is in front of him.

- I have been doing this for years, right? - boy talks to himself - nothing new. I just need to… take a shower.

Right. Y/n suddenly put his hand in the zipper of the binder. In one long movement, he takes the shit off.

He breathes deeply.

The boy has been wearing the binder since the morning. He knows it isn’t healthy and Jeongin had already warned about the consequences, but what else can he do? He is feeling gross, but mastectomy is an expensive surgery and the only thing that could help him.

1, 2, 3: inhale; 3, 2, 1: exhale; 1, 2, 3: inhale; 3, 2, 1: exhale; 1, 2, 3: inh-

- I can’t! - Y/n suddenly admits, humming - I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I… can’t live like this. I can't anymore with all the this struggle.

The younger one steps back to the wall while embracing himself. He slides dramatically until put his head between his knees. His tears fall through his skin and the shoulders keep trembling like leaves.

Jeongin makes a soft sound to Y/n notice him - the singer doesn’t want to exceed privacy limits. Due to that action, the crying one wiped away his tears. Yang sits beside his lover, but doesn’t dare to raise his eyes and makes Y/n uncomfortable.

- Tell me, please, baby. How are you?

- I must look like a loser. - he does a nasal laughter - It’s bullshit.

- Y/n. Look at me - he approaches his fingers to his boyfriend’s legs - I won’t look at you until you make sure you are fine. Let me help you, please. Help me to understand better what you are feeling.

Boy moves his mouth. He extends his arm until the small bench to takes his large t-shirt, and wears it.

- Have you ever felt like you don’t fit some place?

- I think so.

- And how did you deal?

- I quit. As long as I was not the problem, I chose to be myself somewhere.

The boy searched for Jeongin’s eyes. The idol raises his sights and finally looks into the other’s soul. He can feel the pain, but also the passion. Not only for him, but for life. As he notices, he makes a signal to Y/n keep talking.

- I feel like this. Everyday. But not for a specific site like my workplace, or the beach, or my family's house… everywhere. And I guess I would feel it in the whole world.

“To be really honest, never in my life I felt belonged. Everywhere I go, I can feel the judging eyes of everyone. And if they are nor judging, they don't care about who I am and simply treat me as they think it’s better for them. Even if the world it’s changing and nowadays it’s definitely better than the past, it still hurts. It’s like… we fight really hard to be heard - and sometimes we find someone good, as you - but if a cis male suddenly talks shit about about us, everyone will turn their back to us. Even the ones that used to say that are ‘trans rights alie’. It seems that we never are the first option. Despite everything, if we demonstrate some weakness, we are wrong, Or ungrateful. But no one tries to look with empathy for us. Pretending to be strong every time sucks. And I am honestly tired.”

Jeongin breathes away the air he is holding into his lunges. He does a timid movement with his hands trying to touch his boyfriend while waiting for him to respond. When the boy finally gives permission to be touched, he is tied in a tight hug with the right to receive cafuné.

They stay in this position for minutes or hours, they doesn't really perceive it as long as they are only sharing the human warmth and innocent kisses. Y/n once wanted to cry, but now he feels safe in his lover’s arms.

- Baby - Jeongin started to talk - I just need to make you understand that nothing is wrong with you. Absolutely nothing. The world is unjust, so what you feel is valid. But please, never think that the problem is you. It isn’t. Every time you ever feel like this again, let me know. Even if I am busy, I will always try to have time for you. You are in my life and make me feel alive. The minimum I can do is to male you feel at least 300% of my love. You are worth it, right? Always. I love you, and love lasts forever.

Boy lets some happy tears fall.

They take a shower together. They innocently wash and soap the body of each other, giving slight smiles. When they end, they brush their hairs and teeth and prepare to sleep.

It was the first good night of Y/n this week. And also the first at four nights that Jeongin felt peaceful enough to let a creasing anxiety leave him. With loved people, a light heart, and good thoughts, they could go anywhere they wanted to be anyone that they wanted to. Or were they dreaming…?

It doesn’t matter. As long as they were together, nothing could hurt them.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Change

Roman was acting like himself when Thomas was younger, yk overdramatic, prince aesthetic, love of theater etc etc but after a fight with Virgil he decides he wants to be respected and completely switches up reads body language, stays quiet and subdued, refuses to state any opinions the other sides wouldn't completely agree with – himguy

Read on Ao3

Warnings: bullying, more unsymp!sides than I normally go

Pairings: none

Word Count: 8613

Roman is over the top, bombastic, and enthusiastic. He is prone to fits of passion and emotional outbursts. Such is the nature of Creativity. But the others...don't like that. They aren't exactly ambiguous about it either. Or, Roman struggles to walk the line between being himself and being something the others can tolerate. It gets far worse before it gets any better.

“I mean—it’s outrageous! Despicable! Why, the very greats of theater performances past are affronted at the very notion!”

Virgil rolls his eyes, lounging against the bottom of the stairs. “Are you done?”

“Am I done? Am I done? How can you even ask such a question like that, when you have awakened in me passions the likes of which would make the Ancient Greeks rise from their slumber—“

“As if your tantrum hasn’t awoken them already,” Logan mutters under his breath and Janus muffles a snort.

“—to speak in verse so as to demand an answer to the question of why you have decided to make a mockery of their livelihoods! What—how can you ask me if I am done when it is you who started this in the first place!”

Virgil yawns.

”And now—how dare you?”

“Here’s a fun game, take a shot every time Princey says ‘how dare you.’ You’ll be dead in two minutes.”

“We only drink responsibly, Virgil,” Patton chides.

“Yeah, which means you agree that he’s saying it, like, every other sentence.”

“Exactly, so if we’re going to be playing a drinking game, then you should pick something that’s either happening less—“

“Roman being reasonable?”

”How dare—“

“Quick, everyone, take a shot, he said it again!”

Roman puffs his chest up, spluttering, and Virgil just snickers, mocking his half words until Roman’s face is as red as his sash, laughing the whole time. Even Logan has to try and hide his grin as Roman keeps trying and failing to articulate much of anything.

“Oh, give it up,” Virgil sighs after a while, “you’re not making sense, Princey, you haven’t been making sense for like, half an hour. You just keep saying ‘how dare you’ and going on these monologues that don’t mean anything.”

“What do you mean, ‘don’t mean anything?’ Have you not even been listening?”

“Nope.”

“Well, then, you should—what did you say?”

“I said no, Princey, I haven’t been listening. It’s not worth listening to you when you’re not really saying anything.” Virgil scrubs a hand through his hair. “You’re just…you know, talking. Making noise. That’s what you do.”

“What exactly is talking if not making noise, then?”

“Well, ‘talking’ typically refers to stringing words together in a way that actually communicates something worth saying, and ‘making noise’ is just that. Nonsense.”

“That’s not—“

“L? Back me up here.”

“He’s right,” Logan says, crossing his arms as Roman starts to puff up again, “you’ve been wasting our time with these dramatic fits and tantrums that are not and have never been productive. So unless you have something that’s actually worth saying, then I agree with Virgil that you’ve made enough noise for the evening.”

“Or ever.”

“Kiddo,” Patton scolds, “it’s not nice to say that Roman shouldn’t ever make noise again.”

“But you agree with me.”

“…I think that—“

“That’s a yes,” Janus says helpfully, smiling as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth when Roman glares at him.

”What is this, Pick On Roman Day? Did I miss a memo where you all decided it would be good funny to belittle me?”

“More like did you decide to wake up and abuse our eardrums for ages and ages.”

“How is this more productive than the things I was saying?” He flings his hand out at Virgil. “He’s just insulting me?”

“Yes, which is doing the productive task of making sure that you’re not monologuing anymore,” Logan sighs, rubbing his temples. “I believe I’m going to call it here. If there’s nothing else pertinent…?”

“No,” Janus says before he can say anything, “nothing.”

“I will see you all for dinner, then.”

”Wait, Logan, you can’t just—“ Logan sinks out before he can finish his sentence— “how come he gets to do that and when I do it you all yell at me?”

“Because he’s doing the healthy thing of respecting his own boundaries,” Patton says, “and not just deciding that he doesn’t want to be here anymore.”

“How is that different?” Patton just looks at him like he’s the most disappointed he’s ever been. “What? Don’t look at me like that!”

“I’m gonna go too. I’ll see you kiddos later.”

”Wait, Pat—“

“He’s gone, Princey,” Virgil declares, still lazing about like some great over stuffed cat, “he’s not coming back.”

“What, are you two going to sink out next?”

“Oh, no, please,” Janus drawls. “Don’t mind me, this is the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in weeks.”

”What is?”

“Watching you be a peacock getting your feathers plucked.”

Roman yelps, hands going automatically behind him, and both of them burst out into laughter. Embarrassment and humiliation burn his cheeks and they just keep laughing, calling him a tomato, a pincushion, a whoopee cushion, and—and—

“Aww,” he hears Virgil simper, “is Princey gonna cry?”

Something deep inside of Roman’s chest snaps.

The living room disappears. He’s standing in his bedroom. Did he sink out? He doesn’t remember. His hands burn. His chest is splitting in agony. He can still hear laughter ringing and ringing in his ears, louder and louder and louder and louder—

Distantly, he registers that he’s on his knees, somehow, hunched over until his forehead burns into the rough shag carpet. The balloon in his chest keeps snapping hardly against his ribs with every rough inhale, the ache in his hands giving way to the sharp bite of his own nails in his palm. He splutters again, gasping for breath. It doesn’t work. He does it again. His chest feels like it’s about to splinter into pieces. They just keep laughing. Why do they always laugh?

Peacock. Tomato. Pincushion. Whoopee Cushion. Spluttering, overblown, overdramatic, messy, nonsense Prince.

That wasn’t fair. It isn’t fair.

Life isn’t fair, Roman, he can hear Logan sighing, you can’t just complain about everything all the time. You have to work for things.

Fine. They want Roman to work for things? They want him to act like he’s someone worthy of respect? Fine. He’ll play their stupid game.

***

”Ah. Roman.” Logan adjusts his glasses. “You’re late.”

“Sorry, I know, I was caught up in—“

“It doesn’t matter,” he continues, turning back to Patton like Roman hadn’t been speaking, “at any rate, I find it highly unlikely that a video on the animal shelters nearby will be a successful venture for Thomas.”

“But it’s a good thing to do, Logan! Besides, they have a fundraiser thing going on right now, we could help raise awareness?”

“Yeah, but what if that’s not what they’re asking for?” Virgil shakes his head. “We might just end up making things worse.”

“Besides, Thomas’s content shares to far more than just a local audience. It would be in an effort to reach the wrong demographic.”

“Well, as Thomas’s Creativity, I think that we should—“

“Oh, good, here we go, Princey’s gonna lecture us again.

Roman frowns. “I’m…but I am Thomas’s Creativity. It’s my job to come up with ideas.”

“Come up with ideas and order everyone else around like we’re your personal servants are two very different things, Roman.”

“I didn’t say that, you slippery snake—“

“Name calling will not do you any favors.” Logan’s voice cracks across the room and Roman just manages to resist the urge to flinch. “You showed up late, Roman. You do not have the authority to override anyone else, as much as we all know you wish you could.”

“Only we can,” Virgil pipes up as Janus gives a little wave, “sorry, Princey.”

“You’re not sorry.”

“Neither are you, and you should be for being so rude.”

“I—“

“They’re right, Roman,” Patton says quietly, “go on.”

Roman looks around at all of them. They stare at him expectantly. A lump grows in his throat and he mutters an apology.

“That’s better.” Logan turns away from him again. “Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…”

The others respect Logan, at least, they think that he’s worth listening to. And he’s not scolded for interrupting anyone. Maybe he could be respected the way Logan is, if he shows them that he knows what he’s talking about.

***

Roman shows up to the next meeting with his arms full of binders and notebooks. Janus raises an eyebrow as he sets them all in a neat little row around himself, waiting for the meeting to start.

“Jeez, Princey, did you murder enough trees yet? You know we’re trying to save the planet, yeah, not just kill it faster?”

“It’s research.”

“Research,” Janus repeats dubiously, just as Logan shows up.

“Ah, good, nice to see we’re all on time this time.”

“Uh, Patton’s not here yet.”

Virgil scoffs. “Snitch.”

“How am I being a snitch? You can clearly see he’s not here.”

“There’s no need to be rude, Roman.” Logan eyes his pile suspiciously. “Despite how…overeager you might be.”

“But I just—“

“Sorry, sorry!” Patton rises up. “Sorry I’m late, I just lost track of time!”

“It’s alright, Patton—“ how come it’s alright when Patton’s late, but not me?— “we can get started now.”

Great. Roman picks up the binders and starts trying to hand them out, only for Virgil to raises his eyebrow and nudge it away like it’s radioactive.

“What the hell is that supposed to be?”

“It’s…it’s research. For the video idea. I was looking into media study theories about the subjects that we wanted to include—“

“‘We?’ There’s no ‘we’ in this, Princey, we haven’t even made a decision yet. I feel like we went over this.”

Roman chews on his lip. “I know, but I wanted to have evidence for my side, and—“

“There are no sides anymore, Roman,” Janus sighs, looking almost bored, “we’re working together on this, remember?”

“…okay, I wanted to have evidence to back up what I wanted to say, is that better?”

“Well, considering you’re trying to hand me a phone book, no, not really.”

Roman huffs, letting the binder fall to the floor. Patton tuts disapprovingly at the noise. “You guys like it when Logan brings in a bunch of evidence, why can’t I—“

“Excuse me?” Logan’s expression darkens. “Is that all you think I do, Roman?”

“Oh, shit, you’ve done it now,” Virgil mutters as Logan takes a step forward.

“I—I just—I wanted to—“

“I bring in evidence to support the things I say because that is the responsible this to do. I choose the sources that will most accurately and succinctly back up my claim because I respect the time of the people I am talking to.” Logan looms over him, even though they’re about the same height. “If you are so desperate as to try and steal what it is that I do because you don’t feel as though your ego has been properly sated—“

“Ooh, get him, L.”

“—then I highly suggest you do your research.”

Janus is openly grinning and Virgil is hiding snickers behind his hand. Logan stares at him for a moment longer before he drops the binder with a thud. Roman flinches. He barely hears anything else over the rush of shame in his ears as he gathers up all of his binders and clutches them to his chest.

If they’d even bothered to look inside, they would’ve seen his summary of the academic essays and papers he’d read where he put in only the relevant parts and annotated his ideas with them, but they didn’t. They didn’t look inside. Not one of them. That wasn’t fair either. What else is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to get them to listen?

Remus. They pay attention to Remus when he shows up. Maybe he should ask Remus what to do.

***

“Remus? I—whoa!” He dodges a flying piece of…something. “I had something I wanted to ask you!”

Remus looks up from his perch on top of a mountain of various animal parts and grins, sliding down what Roman hopes is a giant tongue and shaking himself off. “What’s cracking?”

“How do you get the others to listen to you?”

“Scream until their eardrums bleed, that’s a good way.”

Roman winces. “But then they’re not—then they can’t hear at all.”

”That’s not my problem.”

“No, I mean—when you show up, everyone pays attention to you. How…how do you do that? How do you get them to take you seriously?”

“I find holding a very sharp weapon does wonders for making sure you’re listened to. Especially if they know you’ll use it!”

“I don’t want to hurt them, Re.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I just—I’m struggling with getting them to take me seriously. They don’t want to listen to me, they don’t really respect me, I just—“

“Here, hold this.”

“—I want them to—ack!”

The ball of whatever-it-was Remus placed in his hands explodes into a noxious cloud of spores, making him crouch and flail as Remus cackles. The familiar burn forms the lump in his throat and he tries to take a deep breath to calm himself down—

—only to go into a massive coughing fit when he inhales the spores again.

“Sheesh, Ro, maybe you should’ve learned your lesson.” Remus pats him on the back with mock sympathy. “Did you want to say something?”

Roman opens his mouth and promptly swallows another round of the spores and has to double over, hacking them up. Remus just grins. He waves his arms frantically to get those stupid things out of the air and glares.

“Aw, lighten up, bro! You looked like you could use a laugh.”

“Re, I came to you for help.”

“Pfft. That’s your fault, not mine. What’s the matter, Ro? I’ve never had problems with getting them to take me seriously.”

“Well, yeah, because they’re scared of you.”

Remus freezes. The smile slides off his face. “Wh-what?”

“You threaten them with weapons, you scream at them until their ears bleed, wouldn’t you be scared?” Remus’s lower lip wobbles. “Wait, I didn’t mean—“

Remus sinks out before he can say anything else. He groans in frustration and scrubs his hands over his face, remembering too late that there are still spores there, and he sinks out to his bathroom to wash them all off. Scrubbing at the skin doesn’t really do anything to dull the frustration of Remus being so unhelpful and the guilt at…upsetting him.

No sooner has he dried off—actually, better make that started to dry off—does he feel the familiar yank of being summoned. He rises up in the middle of the Dark Side’s living room to see a teary Remus in Janus’s arms and an absolutely furious Virgil.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you,” Virgil spits in his face before he can even say anything, “how the fuck can you be so cruel?”

“I didn’t—“

“You actually fucking told Remus that we’re all scared of him? What the fuck, Princey?”

“I didn’t mean to, I just—!”

“Please,” Janus hisses, voice laced with enough venom to make his throat tingle, “tell us what you did mean, since clearly we must be missing something.”

Virgil glowers and folds his arms. Remus sniffles, head still pillowed in the crook of Janus’s shoulder. One of his hands rubs soothing circles over Remus’s back and a jolt of longing makes Roman’s chest ache anew.

“Well?”

“…I just meant that he threatens you guys all the time, and he—“

“Wow.” Virgil scrubs a hand over his face and starts to pace in a circle. “Just fucking wow, Roman.”

“What? He does! He admitted it, that’s what he does whenever he shows up!”

“And of course he only shows up to be the bad guy, right? That’s what you’re gonna say next?”

“I never said that! I didn’t say that! I would be scared if someone showed up and threatened to hurt me with an extremely sharp weapon or scream until my ears bleed, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, jeez, Princey, seems like you got it all figured out. No use asking us how we feel, no, you already got everything all sorted. Just the way you like it, huh?”

“That’s not what I meant, I just—“

“What is all of this racket about?”

Roman’s heart sinks when he sees Patton and Logan come in from the hall. Patton, of course, catches sight of the still-sniffling Remus and rushes over, all soft care and concern that makes Roman burn with envy, and Virgil wastes no time telling Logan about all the horrible things he said and how he’s refusing to apologize for it. Sure enough, Logan’s disappointed look turns on him in less than one minute.

“Roman,” Patton says sternly, “how could you say something like that?”

“Is there something I’m missing here? Do other people not get scared when someone shows up and threatens to hurt them?”

Patton frowns. Logan and Virgil don’t bother to hide their disgusted expressions. Janus bends down to murmur something comforting in Remus’s ear. Roman throws his hands up.

“I don’t get it! What am I not getting? Please, someone tell me, tell me what I don’t get about—“

“That’s enough.”

Patton’s tone, cold enough to freeze even the brightest stars, stops him cold.

“You’re behaving horribly, Roman, and you know that. You’re reacting in a very immature way and I expected more from you. Now, do you have an apology to make to Remus, or are you going to keep throwing a tantrum about getting caught doing something bad?”

Roman swallows around the lump in his throat. He looks at Remus, who peers out from Janus’s protective hold to look at him. In truth, he never meant to hurt his brother. He does feel bad about it, and yes, he wants to apologize.

But he looks around at the sheer force with which the others have decided to support and care for Remus, and he just…

“I’m sorry I said everyone was scared of you, Remus.”

Janus bares his teeth and hisses and Patton’s face darkens.

“Out.”

“But I said I was—”

“Get out, Roman.”

Virgil steps forward as if he’s going to bodily shove Roman out of the room and Roman quickly sinks out, listening to the comforting words of the others as they start to gather around Remus and he—he—

You know what? Fine. Fucking fine.

They say he’s being immature and dramatic and stupid and disrespectful and cruel and mean and a peacock and a tomato and a pin cushion and selfish and egotistical and badly behaved and he’s throwing a tantrum then fine. Then fine,

He sinks into the Imagination atop a vast, barren wasteland of dry cracking stone and winds racing across miles and miles of absolutely nothing. Sand stings across his exposed skin and he pays it no mind. The ground begins to split and crack under him.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair. He’s not allowed to be passionate about anything or be hurt when people make fun of him. He’s not allowed to do research or do anything similar to what anyone else might be doing. He’s not allowed to go ask for help because he’ll say the wrong thing and everyone else will immediately take the side that isn’t his. He’s supposed to be this stupid dancing monkey that no one has to listen to and he never gets to actually say any of this out loud.

When was the last time someone asked him if he was okay? When was the last time someone actually listened to him? But no, Roman doesn’t get to be taken seriously. Roman doesn’t get to be hurt and upset and want things like everyone else. Roman doesn’t get to do any of that.

Roman gets to scream himself hoarse in a sandstorm until the sand scrapes his tears from his cheeks and the grind cracks under him, that’s what Roman gets to do. He gets to scream and rage and shout that it’s not fair, because it’s not fair, in a place where no one could or would care enough to hear him. He gets to scream and rage and be hurt all on his own where even the wind won’t give him the breath to speak and you know what? Maybe this is better.

Because when he looks around at the scar in the face of the earth he’s made with blood on his knuckles and an undying ache in his chest, maybe the others were right.

***

That was three months ago.

Roman wasn’t allowed to come to the meeting for a while. Remus went instead. Roman spent his time in the Imagination trying not to let the hurt in his chest turn him to stone. They dropped off a list of everything they needed him to do after the meetings were over and he did them.

Then he was allowed to come back on a sort of trial basis as long as he behaved himself. He didn’t know what that meant, but he knew they didn’t like it when he said things or acted like he knew what to do, so he didn’t say anything. Remus was still there and Remus interrupted and said things and the others laughed or listened or told him his ideas were good. They didn’t ask Roman if he had any ideas.

They still got mad if Roman was late, even if he wasn’t saying anything anyway. They still got mad if Roman wasn’t paying attention, even though they didn’t listen to any of his suggestions when he wanted to make them. They still expected him to do all of the things they wanted, even if that wasn’t something that he could do and he tried to tell them that and they told him to stop being lazy because Remus was doing all of this stuff too. It still wasn’t fair, but Roman knew better than to ask why now.

He still went to the Imagination. The Imagination didn’t judge him when he wanted to make his ideas, or when he wanted to just say something wasn’t fair out loud. He went there almost every night just to feel a little bit better, to go sit by the waterfalls and watch the rainbows form, or to go sit in the glowstone forest for a while and listen to the chirping of the tasselflies. Mostly he went to go take care of his dragon. She didn’t mind if his hands shook as he brushed her scales or if he needed to whisper-ramble to himself about how much it hurt to be in the meetings now. In the beginning he tried not to cry on her because he worried that it was rude but then she snuffled into his face with hers and wrapped her tail around him so he figured she didn’t mind too much. Sometimes he just went to her so he could lie against her scales; she was warm the way all dragons are and if he was very tired or very upset, it was almost like getting a hug. She couldn’t hug him, outside of wrapping her tail around him a few times, but she was warm and she was nice and she let him cuddle up to her, so it was okay.

Then he gets called to a meeting that isn’t the one they have planned and he only just gets there on time. He rises up into the living room and everyone else is already there, staring at him. He straightens his shirt a little self-consciously—he stopped wearing the prince costume when Janus told him he didn’t need to dress like he was always about to go to his own coronation—and waits for someone to explain what’s going on.

Logan eventually breaks the silence, sighing and straightening his glasses. “Roman, do you know why you’re here?”

He shakes his head.

“You’re because we think—well, we feel that this temper tantrum has gone on long enough.”

Temper tantrum? What temper tantrum? He’s doing what they want, isn’t he? He’s not being dramatic, he’s not doing anything wrong, he’s—he’s behaving. Just like they wanted.

“This moping, the silent treatment, the lack of initiative you’ve shown,” Logan continues, “whatever point you’re trying to make, it would be better if you just said it. Then we could come to a solution and move on.”

“I…I don’t understand.”

”He means,” Janus says, his voice way too condescending, “that this little poor-me-I’m-the-victim charade you’ve been putting on isn’t fooling anybody. So if you wouldn’t mind using your words?”

But he…they didn’t like it when he was being the way he was before. Why would they want him to go back to that? That was bad, they hated it, hated him, he—he doesn’t understand.

“Roman?” Patton prompts. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Told you,” Virgil mutters, “here we go.”

“I…you didn’t like it when I was being dramatic, or when I tried to give ideas or said I knew what I was doing—o-or when I tried to research what I wanted to do and show you, so I…I didn’t…I don’t—what am I doing wrong?”

“For fuck’s—you can stop it, Roman,” Virgil groans, “whatever act you’re doing, great, we bought it, show’s over, now tell us what’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on! I’m not trying to trick you guys! I’m just trying to be what you want!”

Janus scoffs. “And you think what we want is a limp, wet blanket of a person that shows no initiative and barely bothers to put in the effort?”

Roman’s mouth just opens and closes a few times, staring at him, before his gaze desperately lands on Remus. Remus will understand, he has to, he has to know Roman’s not trying to play a trick on them or anything, he has to—

“Remus,” he starts, and has to swallow when Janus moves slightly in front of him as if to protect him, “Re, please, I didn’t—I’m not trying to do anything, I swear.”

“…why else would you be acting like this?”

Any hope he may have had that Remus would come to his defense drops like s stone to the bottom of the deepest ocean in the Imagination. The lump swells up in his throat and he has to look down.

”Oh, look, here it comes,” he hears Virgil mutter, “he’s gonna cry.”

“I’m not.”

Virgil huffs and now Roman has to do everything in his power not to cry in front of them. He won’t do it. It’s not fair. He’s not giving them the satisfaction of it.

There’s a long pause before Patton sighs.

“Do you have anything else you want to say for yourself?”

He shakes his head.

“Then perhaps it’s better if you don’t come to the meetings until you’ve sorted yourself out.”

He just nods. Patton must’ve expected him to say or do something else because there’s a sigh.

“Then you can go.”

Roman sinks out the second he’s given permission and hits the rocky cliffside on the way up to his dragon’s favorite perch. He’s already losing the battle; tears and sniffles leak out of him as he fumbles for his bag with her brush and her snacks in it, stumbling up the cliff as the clouds roll in. He manages to clear the threshold of her mountain-top cave before his knees give out and her brush clatters out of the bag.

In an instant, she raises her head and turns to look at him, letting out a concerned rumble and promptly scooping him up in one of her claws and taking flight. He clings to her talon as they fly down to one of the small coves on the edge of the Great Sea, settling in the soft, warm grass and letting go. With tail, wing, and snout, she maneuvers him into the lea of her, wing lowered protectively over him like a blanket with her head turned so her nose nuzzles into the soft part of his chest.

“They still think I’m—I’m being bad,” he hiccups as she purrs soothingly, “they think I’m faking all this, that I’m—that I’m trying to—to trick them or something, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, and it’s not fair because Remus gets to be as messy and over-dramatized as he wants and they like it, they’re not even—even mad about it, it’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not—not fair—“

He dissolves into stupid, blubbering sobs and his dragon just huffs, blowing warm air over him in some phantom embrace and he throws himself in a heap over her snout, trying in vain to hold her back. She purrs in contentment, though he has no idea why, and just lets him be a mess all over her. He’s just so tired of this; of not being right, of not knowing what they want, of not being able to just exist without being critiqued or criticized or mocked. At least he won’t have to attend the meetings for a while, but then that means he also won’t get to see the others for a while.

Maybe that’s for the best.

Distantly, he hears the sound of water sloshing. He peers out to see the arms of the Kraken rising up from the water, the very top of his head poking out. The dragon lets out a rumble of greeting as an arm reaches toward them. She opens her wing to allow it to rest on the grass and Roman reaches out a shaky hand. He’s still sniffling too much to say anything but he pats the arm and the Kraken trills. At the questioning burble, he shakes his head and curls up a little tighter. The water around the arms churns into a slight froth as the Kraken shifts. Another low trill rings out and the arm slips away, the shadow fading beneath the surface and moving away. Roman closes his eyes again, resting against the dragon’s scales, until he hears a faint voice coming from the water.

“—drag me off like that, you know better, what is it you want to show me so badly over here?”

Roman’s blood runs cold. Remus. Ollie went to go get Remus.

He curls up even tighter and the dragon snuffles, lowering her wing protectively.

“Roman’s dragon? Why’d you bring me here?” Footsteps on the grass as Remus gets closer and the dragon growls in warning. “What’s wrong? Are you—wait, Ro?”

No. I’m not here. He curls up as small as he can go but that damage is done.

“Ro, what’re you doing? Did you fall? Are you hurt or something?” The dragon’s growl turns to a snarl when Remus keeps getting closer. “Why’re you…are you just upset that we figured out your acting thing?”

There’s no way in hell he could ever hope to disguise his flinch. The dragon lifts her head and properly bares her teeth at Remus. Ollie rumbles in warning too.

“It’s—I don’t get it, Ro. You had to know—it wasn’t exactly a believable thing.”

“Remus? Are you over here?”

“Fuck, this place is pretty. Why do you think we’ve never seen it before?”

”Roman hoarding it to himself, most likely.”

No.

No.

No, no, no, why are they here?

The Imagination is his space. His place to be alone, to be messy, to be himself. They can’t—if they take this too, where else could he go?

“Yeah, I’m up here, so’s Ro, we just need to—whoa!”

Ollie had grabbed Remus bodily around the waist and thrown him far out into the water with a single arm. As the others come over the hill, more arms rise up and the Kraken takes a defensive stance, head raising with water pouring off the sides as it rumbles. The dragon growls too, her tail coming up to circle protectively around him.

”Roman,” he hears Patton call, his voice a little higher than normal, “Roman, come out and talk to us, please.”

Nope.

“Fuck, that thing’s huge,” he hears Virgil mutter and part of him wants to snap not to call Ollie a thing. “And the dragon too—how are we gonna—?”

“We won’t have to do anything, because Roman knows when enough is enough, and he’ll come out and talk like a mature person, won’t he?”

Nope. No, the fuck I won’t. The dragon growls too.

“Roman, be reasonable,” he hears Logan say, “you can’t expect us to take you seriously if this is how you want to have this conversation.”

On the contrary: this is the most seriously they’ve taken anything to do with Roman for a long time, and he has no intentions of having any sort of conversation right now.

“You’re not doing a very good job of demonstrating that you’ve learned from your mistakes,” he continues, “nor that we should be taking you seriously.”

“Or that we should continue being so patient,” he hears Janus mutter.

He knew it was coming, it’s been the only thing coming for months now, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Ollie heard it too, though, and gasps and scuffles come as more of the arms reach and Roman feels a sudden stab of fear—

He throws his arm out and miraculously, Ollie notices. He pauses, a questioning burble, and reaches an arm to lie on the grass near Roman. Roman rests a hand on it again, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat.

“They’ll be mad at me,” he whispers, “please—please just—just let them. I can’t—I can’t anymore.”

The dragon rumbles and Ollie makes a discontented noise, but his arms lower back into the water with a splash. Just then, another splashing noise accompanied by Patton’s cry of relief signals Remus’s return to the cove. Roman closes his eyes and tries to forget that he’s here. Maybe if he stays still and quiet enough, they’ll leave.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Remus says, “he wasn’t trying to hurt me, just get me away. Why he didn’t say that when he was the one to bring me over here in the first place, I don’t know, but—“

He’s cut off when a furious set of burbles comes from Ollie.

”Slow down, I can’t understand you like that.”

“Uh, Remus, could you get some sort of translator so we can all understand?”

“Sure. One sec.” A brief whiz and a flash of light. “There. Now: from the beginning?”

Ollie burbles again, but this time a deep gravely voice comes from what Roman guesses is the translation device.

“Red Prince is upset.”

“Red Prince? Is that Roman?”

“Yeah, that’s what they call him. Why’s he upset?”

The Kraken shifts. “You have made him upset. Red Prince comes everyday to She-Who-Tends-The-Clouds and he cries. He is cold. He is scared.”

“Scared?” Remus asks as the others mutter. “Why is he scared?”

“He was scared when I brought you.”

Roman flinches. They’re all going to take that the wrong way.

“Why was he scared when you brought me?”

An arm lifts from the water and points. “Because you bring the others. The Untouched. Those-Who-Do-Not-Shape.”

“Those who do not shape? I shape very much, thank you.”

“He means you don’t control the Imagination, Janny. But why would Ro be scared of that? Of you guys?”

Now his dragon snarls, her voice coming from the translator. “Because you do not protect him. You protect Green Duke. You do not protect Red Prince, you are cruel to him. He is scared of being hurt when he comes here. He is scared now because you have come where you are not supposed to be.”

“Uh, Miss Dragon? We only followed Remus, Remus brought us in here to show us something. We watched him get taken by that monster—“

“Don’t call him a monster,” Remus says lowly as Ollie growls.

“—sorry, sorry, by, um…by him and we wanted to make sure he was okay.”

“Why’d you bring me, Ollie, if you knew Ro was scared?”

The Kraken shifts as the water froths. “I brought you because you are his brood mate. I thought you were going to help.”

The condemnation in Ollie’s voice is enough to make Roman wince, squeezing the arm still on the grass lightly. The Kraken stills ever so slightly, the arm pressing back against his hand. The dragon noses his hair, blowing warm breath over him.

“I am sorry, Red Prince. I did not mean to bring this here.”

He shakes his head. He could never be mad at Ollie.

”Perhaps we’ve not had the best of first impressions,” Logan says, “I’m not sure either of us has the full picture here, but Roman—Red Prince, if you prefer—has been…acting unfairly towards us in the past, and we are concerned about his behavior.”

“You are correct in stating you do not have the full picture,” Ollie says, rising to an even more terrifying height, “for you do not know how much hurt you have been causing Red Prince.”

“I’m not sure you understand—“

“We understand that Red Prince is provoked to defending himself while the One-Who-Speaks-In-Storms mocks him. We understand that the One-Who-Speaks-In-Lies ridicules and confuses him. We understand that the One-Who-Speaks-In-Absolutes sees him as a disobedient child who only acts to get attention and not with other cause. And we understand that you, One-Who-Speaks-In-Rules, do not see him.”

The dragon picks up where Ollie leaves off, lifting her head to glare at them over the wing covering Roman.

“You mock and belittle his interests and scold him for being hurt over it. You act proprietary over the things you deem yours and chastise him for doing the same. You hold him accountable for every word he speaks and do not think that your words could be wielded just as carelessly. And when one of you is hurt by him,” and here she snarls at Remus, “you are quick to turn on him like a limb caught in a trap to be torn off.”

Roman hears the tense silence after she finishes speaking and braces himself.

“…I don’t believe this,” Virgil grumbles, “is this what Princey does everyday? He comes here and what, makes them believe we’re bullying him? Abusing him?”

“Torturing,” Janus says lightly, “I believe torturing would be more apt.”

“I understand that you’ve heard Roman’s perspective,” Logan says, his voice a little harder now, “but surely you must understand that there are two sides to every story. Are you not at all interested to hear ours?”

“From how you have behaved since setting foot on these shores,” the dragon growls, “no, we are not.”

“Do you even know what he said about Remus?” Patton says. “What made him so upset and us all ‘turn on him?’”

“He said that Green Duke is scary, and that you are scared of him. Because he threatens you with weapons that are sharp and screams that make your ears bleed.”

“Don’t you see how that’s mean?”

“Mean or not, it is the truth. And it is what Green Duke has said of himself.”

“They’re right,” Remus says before anyone else can say anything, “I did say that.”

“What—why?”

“Because it’s true. He came and asked me why you guys listened to me and I said it was ‘cause I…well, yeah.”

“Oh, Remus,” and Janus’s voice immediately softening hits Roman like a lightning strike, “you don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I think that yeah, you guys are scared of me sometimes. I…got caught off guard when Ro said it because Ro’s never been scared of me. At least…not until now.”

Wait. That’s why Remus was so upset? Because he thought Roman was scared of him? No, that’s—that’s not—

“But what do you mean ‘being proprietary,’ Ollie? Over what, the Imagination?”

“It is Red Prince’s job to come up with ideas. He claimed ownership of the role and was scolded. And yet when he tried to work in the way that the One-Who-Speaks-In-Rules does, he was scolded once more.”

“Wait, wait, wait, is this about that research thing Princey did like four months ago?”

“You mean the ‘thing’ that Ro spent days on, researching and annotating his stuff so that you guys would understand how much goes into creating stuff for Thomas? That ‘thing?’”

There’s a pause.

”They did not even look at it,” the dragon says, “they tossed it away while the One-Who-Speaks-In-Rules took offense to Red Prince’s comparison to his diligence.”

There’s another pause.

“We’re not…we’re not seriously buying this, are we? That Roman’s—that Roman’s—“

“Currently got a very angry Kraken and dragon defending him and still so scared that he hasn’t said a fucking word to us the whole time we’ve been here,” Remus interrupts Virgil, “yeah, Virgil, I think we’re buying it. Why the fuck didn’t any of you guys tell me this shit?”

“We didn’t—“

“Didn’t what? Didn’t think I should know that Roman’s been hurting? Didn’t think that Roman was hurt?”

“Don’t act all high and mighty,” Janus warns, “you also thought he was putting on an act until a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah, and I’m rapidly coming to the conclusion that that’s not true and I’ve been a real Class A Dickbag to my brother for like, three months.”

Logan’s scoff hurts. “Why would Roman act like that and believe it? In what set of circumstances would he ever behave that reasonably?”

Roman would not like to be here anymore. He shifts and taps the dragon’s side and she unfurls, humming soothingly as he climbs up into the dip on her back. Ignoring the shouts from the others. They take flight, climbing higher and higher into the sky, breaching the cloud layer and only then does Roman slump. Tears drying against the scales.

“Take me somewhere they won’t find me,” he begs, knowing she’ll hear it over the rush of the wind, “anywhere, please.”

***

“You guys,” Remus growls as the dragon flies away, “are dicks.”

”Again, Remus, you also believed—“

“Yeah, I did. But hey, guess what I don’t do: I don’t make fun of Roman for getting upset or excited about stuff, I don’t disregard his work or tell him he’s stealing my shit, and I don’t make fun of him for being scared. My whole fucking life, our whole fucking lives, Roman’s never been scared of me. Not once. And now? Guess what, now he’s scared of me. Because of this shit.”

“How could we have known this was how Roman was feeling? It’s not like he told us?”

“Yeah, I wonder the fuck why the person whose emotions you make fun of didn’t want to tell you his emotions. Oh, wow is, what a mystery this is.” Remus scrubs a hand over his face. “Fuck. Fuck.”

Ollie just watches them, arms idly toying with the water. He looks up at him, running a hand through his hair.

“You said every night?”

“Every night, Red Prince comes. Sometimes he is able to smile. Not often, not anymore. Mostly he cries, or is too quiet.” The arms shift again. “I have not heard Red Prince sing in a long time.”

That, more than anything else, sobers them. Roman sings. That’s what he does. The sky is blue, the grass is green, Roman sings. Remus takes a shaky breath and Logan adjusts his tie.

“Why is Roman crying?”

“He does not know what he is doing wrong. You did not like him as he was, you do not like him as he is now. You believe he is trying to trick you. What would he have to gain by tricking you?”

“Perhaps he thought that we would realize we treated him unfairly, and that we would apologize.”

“And did you?”

There’s another long pause.

“…oh, dear.”

***

Roman’s awoken in the night by his dragon snuffling at his shoulder. He blinks, sitting up from the bed of soft moss and flower-down to see a figure approaching the dragon’s cave. He blinks again and the silhouette of the wolf fades into view. The dragon hums a greeting and the wolf’s nose bows, before he steps aside and another figure appears.

Roman draws back and the dragon growls.

“It’s just me,” Remus says, hands raised, “I promise, I’m the only one here and I locked the Imagination behind me, no one else can come in. He can confirm.”

The wolf huffs. Roman eyes both of them warily. The dragon’s wing drapes around him.

“Please, Ro, please, I just wanna talk.”

The warring fear and hope make him stand on shaky legs, edging from the dragon’s protective embrace to where Remus can just about reach him. The wolf is a reassuring presence—he wouldn’t have brought Remus if he didn’t think he would be okay, he knows them both well enough.

The twins stand there, looking at each other in the thin shaft of moonlight.

“Are…are you scared of me, Ro?”

“No.”

“…really?”

“I’m scared of them. They all seem to think you need protection from me.”

“I don’t,” he says in a rush, “I never did. I should’ve told them, told you—“

“I said it wrong. It’s not your fault.”

“You said it fine, Roro, you said it fine. I—I miss you. The real you.”

A long pause. The dragon rumbles and the wolf blows out a long breath.

“…it’s not fair,” Roman whispers in the quiet of the night, “it’s not fair, Re.”

“I know, I know it’s not. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, I’m sorry I didn’t know—“

"They hurt me, Re, they hurt me and they didn’t care at all and then they made it seem like I was always doing the wrong thing I I never knew what I was supposed to do—“

“I know, I know—“

“I just wanted them to listen to me, I just wanted them to take me seriously and they never do, they never did, it’s not fair, it’s not fair—it’s not fair—“

Remus bundles his brother in a massive hug that sends both of them to the ground, Roman sobbing into Remus’s chest as someone hugs him for the first time in ages. He’s so cold, he’s so warm, everything hurts, everything is so scary, he has no idea what the hell’s going to happen next, but then he feels the soft brush of the wolf’s nose over his forehead and the gentle rumble of the dragon lowering her wing around the two of them and he thinks maybe…maybe he can just exist here for right now and that’ll be okay.

***

“Princey? Whoa, hey,” Virgil says, raising his hands and taking a few steps back when Roman startles terribly, “didn’t mean to scare you, sorry, sorry.”

Roman just eyes him warily.

“We, uh, we wanted to talk to you. In the, uh, in the living room. Are you…free right now?”

“…I guess.”

Virgil’s shoulders slump in relief. “Great. Great, uh, that’s good. Uh, Remus is there too, so…”

Oh, thank god.

He follows Virgil downstairs and still balks when he sees everyone. Thankfully, Remus is standing in his usual spot by the TV and he holds out his arm for Roman to come stand with him. He goes over and Remus immediately snuggles up to his side.

“Roman,” Logan says, and his voice is so soft that it takes him a moment to even realize he’s holding something, let alone that it’s one of the binders from forever ago, “thank you for joining us. We owe you quite the apology.”

“Wh-what?”

“I apologize for how I’ve treated you,” he continues, still in that soft, soft voice, “it was rude and cruel of me to dismiss and belittle you the way I did. Especially with this—“ and he lifts the binder— “this is fascinating, and I would love to discuss it with you. I…understand that I’ve caused you considerable distress recently and I want you to know that I…I’m sorry, Roman, I’m so sorry.”

“Me next,” Patton says, “I’m sorry too. I assumed you were being immature and rude to us and so I was immature and rude to you. But you were just trying to get us to understand how you felt and I didn’t let you. I’m sorry, Roman, really. You didn’t deserve any of that, kiddo.”

“Now me.” And fuck, Janus is speaking gently to him too and Roman can’t deal with this, he can’t—but Remus holds him firmly. “I’m sorry, sweetie. It seems I—I seem to have a horrible habit of being very, very mean and cruel to you and I’ve never been more determined to break a habit.”

“Guess that leaves me.” Virgil grins sheepishly from under his fringe as Roman turns to stare at him. “I’m…I’m a real piece of shit to you, Princey. And I’m gonna work on it. It’s—I’m the reason shit feels really unfair to you a lot of the time ‘cause I’m the one poking you until you snap back at me, and then only you get yelled at, which sucks. So I’m…I’m gonna work on that. But it still sucks, also I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to accept any of them,” Remus murmurs when Roman just stares bleakly at them, “you don’t have to decide anything right now either.”

Roman just blinks.

“Do you need to go be alone right now?” He nods. “Okay. You tell Ollie I say hi?”

He nods. Remus plants a big obnoxious kiss on his cheek and lets him go and he sinks straight into the Imagination, leaving the rest of them in the living room.

***

That was three months ago.

He did cry again that night, just because he was so overwhelmed. His dragon cuddled him and Ollie swam him around the pretty coral reefs to make him feel better. The wolf even gave him a ride over to Remus’s side to see the galaxy clouds from the tall tower.

He did accept their apologies after a few days, but he said he’d need time. They agreed and he felt…strange.

He went to the meetings, Remus by his side, and slowly he started to share his ideas again. It didn’t go very smoothly, not at first, but then bit by bit it got a little better. He still didn’t want to talk about anything that was actually important to him, because that was too scary.

Then he had a panic attack when Remus wasn’t there and Janus wrapped him up in all his arms, murmuring gentle reassurance in his ear while Logan carefully talked him through it. Patton made him hot chocolate and Virgil covered him in a weighted blanket so he could rest. He was so confused, so scared, so unable to relax until Janus helped him take another sip with a gentle kiss on his cheek and he broke.

It took Logan two seconds to figure out he was touch starved.

Tuesday nights became Cuddle-Roman nights, all of them swaddled in blankets and pillows while Roman cried a little—or a lot—just from how new this was. They got very sad when he said that and he didn’t sleep alone for about a week.

He still went to the Imagination. Sometimes he needed to be by himself and there was nothing wrong with that. His dragon took him flying and cuddle with him on mountaintops, Ollie went swimming with him and the wolf went on walks when he was upset and needed someone to just be there. And Remus would always come play with him whenever he wanted to.

And maybe…maybe things would be okay. Maybe things would get better now.

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[imthepunchlord]

Interesting that Marinette ended up tipping over Juleka for the Mantis the same way Kagami ending up tipping over her for the Ladybug LOL. I do personally hope that Juleka wins the Butterfly over Rose now; while I’m still neutral on Centipede!Rose too (though that anon articulated their thoughts very well, hats off), that ask reminded me how much better Rose canonically is at staying chipper and bouncing back from circumstances than Juleka. It’s not so much that it would be BAD if Rose got Bugettes!Nooroo, they would blend together pretty well, but that’s just it. In terms of character growth, it’s Juleka who frankly NEEDS something/someone like the Butterfly Miraculous and Bugettes!Nooroo to help her navigate and benevolently mature through life’s situations far more than Rose does and would therefore *benefit* far more from winning, which would thusly make the overall plot richer than if we got a Butterfly!Rose that stays more or less the same in personality and behavior. This is especially when considering the focus on SPECIFICALLY JULEKA in the everyday Couffaine family dynamic, Jagged reveal drama, and even school and social struggles (she got to have the spotlight in Reflekta and Reflekdoll, but there’s also the fact that she was canonically held back one year to explain her and Luka being twins but in different grades which didn’t get more than a B plot focus in Confrontation for such a sensitive topic that affects so many real-life kids) that we were denied in-show. That being said, I DO appreciate that we got to actually SEE Luka being a genuinely good brother to Juleka at the beginning of Reflekdoll; it’s the little moments like that of him being a sincerely good dude even outside of the main characters’ narrative that put him on the positive side of neutrality in my mind instead of annoyance like with the other characters created specifically to stir the plot pot whom we’re simply TOLD that we should be sympathetic towards by the story (ex. Zoe). Coming back to the main point of this ask, do you personally hope that Juleka or Rose will win the last Bugettes!Miraculous poll?

I mean, so far, last I saw, the majority are in agreement for Butterfly!Juleka. Which I am the same, and I will say, of the classmates that would've potentially been elevated to a major leading role, Juleka is one of the few that stood out to me.

While she was dealing with low self-esteem and anxiety, you could see she wanted to let her voice out, and that there was a lot of bottled up anger that was quite explosive when let out (like wildly firing at other students instead of just Chloe).

So between her and Rose, she's the natural pick given she's got the foundation on how she can grow. Rose doesn't really have one. If she does win, I'd probably go a route of her stance on love and trust is challenged, that she's regarded as "weak" or "naive" and her thing should be to show that it actually takes true strength to keep the mindset of having faith, kindness, and compassion. Kinda like the sort of route they went with Green Lantern in DC Superhero Girls where she's against violence and has a lot of faith and optimism.

While that is something to work off of for Rose, I'd still Juleka between the two. I just see more going for her.

I will forewarn though, I don't know if I'm going to stick to the canon Couffaine set up as I don't like it.

Before we got the slapped on decision of Jagged being the Couffaine's dad (ad doing more rich daddy issues), I theorized that, if he was related to the Couffaines, that he was actually Anarka's younger brother. By appearances, Anarka looks older than Jagged. I thought Anarka was in her late 30s to early 40s while Jagged was in late 20s at the earliest to in his 30s.

The other factor is that I find Luka kinda throws off how Juleka is. Most likely, Luka constantly offers Juleka a lot of support and encouragement, and she also probably gets that from Rose as well, so why is Juleka so bottled up still? Is Anarka just actively but unintentionally tearing her down and undoing all that encouragement? We don't really have much on Juleka with her whole family so I can't say for sure (at least to my knowledge she seems to be shafted a lot in the Couffaine family focus).

Maybe through Roaar they're implying that Juleka just needed some tough love to really push her forward but idk. It just doesn't help that Juleka was really focused on, so what's thought she really needs is speculative.

I will say, if it was just Juleka and Anarka, to me, it would've explained a lot to how Juleka is. I can speak from experience having a parent who is bold, talkative, and has a big presence, it can shape you to be muffled and quiet and have a hard time getting words out, especially when said parent has a tendency to cut in and cut you off when you're trying to speak, and take over a conversation. If you never get a word in, it's hard to talk.

Even more so when you don't have anyone else paying attention and would draw the conversation back to you, asking what you wanted to say.

Which I would expect Luka to do so as he lives there and is on the boat so much. Not say Juleka would be talkative with him, but I'd expect she'd be in a better spot than where she is.

Additionally, given that Jagged is clearly more tied to Luka than to both of them, I wondered if it'd be better if they were just cousins (who were born on the same day, but have a two year age gap as I didn't care for them being made twins, I think same birthday is funnier). It would work off Juleka not having an active support at home, it would work off Luka coming in so late, and it would work off Jagged just straight up being more tied to Luka than to both of them. From what I've seen, Juleka really seems like an after thought in this revelation.

So given that canon slapped this detail together and clearly the whole family doesn't matter, yeah I am not really inclined to keep this family as is.

[didhewinkback]

yeah in his sister's post she basically confirms that he never thought he was good enough and i also saw another video of him talking about bear recently and how he's a mini me but he was like as if we need any more of me in the world, i hate who he became and how he treated maya and other women but its also kinda sad that he had so much self hatred and died believing that

yeah that really gutted me as well. i agree! i have been struggling with this a lot because i completely condemn any form of abuse in all its kinds and don't believe you can justify abusing women by putting it on the fact that someone was struggling w addiction or how theyre being treated online

but i also had not been interacting w liam or anything about liam except only casually when i would see a clip of his or people would be excited that he posted about one of the boys or like in 2020 i watched a few clips of those instagram lives he used to do and from my mostly outside perspective it was very clear he was struggling and i was always rooting for him to find his footing career wise because it cannot have been easy going from being the lead vocals in the biggest boy band and then every member but you is able to carve out a career for themselves and because i was the biggest 1d girl on the planet the liam i keep thinking about is that liam. like little 2011/12/13 liam who was so steady and constant and you could tell there are later years in that band when they all were struggling but he seemed to really not be able to hide it as well as some others but he was still there, still on that stage and singing those songs and it is just so sad to me that that boy died like this, completely unexpected and suddenly and alone.

i feel like i have tried to articulate that a bunch these last few days and im sure people are sick of seeing me write about this because it feels so weird to constantly be qualifying grief but i hope it is clear that whats happening to me and i think a lot of other people is that one direction was a foundational part of us growing up and what it is and was and used to be completely and fundamentally changed when he died. and it doesnt feel fair that so many others in their position were able to get through the other side and grow old together while those five boys will never be able to. i did not know liam but since i was 13 he was always there, somewhere out there, whether in the 1800th blog post i was reblogging at midnight or on twitter and now he is not and that is such a weird thing to reckon with for someone i did not know personally but whose music i really relied on so heavily when i was younger and in recent years to be honest.