#shit that pushes people extra is Good and none of that’s fire! so they haven’t used Any

[sofhtie]

the thing about hayden is I Love Them,

[buttybarnes1917]

Innocence

Word Count: 2,089

Okay. First smut fic in a very long time. It might suck, but I’m going to try really hard to make it not suck.  

Ft. fem reader and rockstar!bucky. I feel like this is absolutely going to become an AU, so it’ll get it’s own header on my masterlist!!

Warnings: dirty talk, nickname (kitten), grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, somehow also a degradation kink, Bucky is obsessed with Readers innocence, minors dni

You rolled your eyes in disgust as you heard moaning coming from Bucky’s dressing room.  

Again.

God, he was literally insatiable.  It seemed like every show, he was pulling some girl backstage, kissing messily in the hallway as the rest of the crew worked around him and then inevitably the girl would end up in his dressing room or his bunk in the bus, which, literally made no sense considering how muscular he was.  Those bunks were so small.  But the girls would never stay for long, and then you would get the fun job of escorting her back to the audience, with her calling “call me!” to Bucky and Bucky already forgetting her name.

You leaned on the wall, sighing a little as you heard her moaning again and Bucky’s short grunts.  God. If he wasn’t so infuriating, he might even be hot.  

Oh, who were you kidding.  He was hot. Six foot three, at least, insane arm muscles from the hours upon hours of playing drums, long curly brown hair and tattoos that curled around his body, Bucky Barnes was everyone’s ideal bad boy.  On top of the fact that you had heard from the people on the crew that he had been with that he was… very well endowed.  

Natasha from lighting told you that he was more skilled with his fingers than a drummer should be, and that she was having trouble walking for days after her encounter with him.  Loki from rigging told you the way he used his tongue on them was “magical” and that they had trouble finding someone who could live up to that.  Steve from audio told you that he could find your weaknesses almost immediately and that he had “never been with someone who made him cum so many times”.  Which would have grossed you out, honestly, if you weren’t so impressed.  

The door opened and you pushed yourself off the wall, as the girl pulled her jacket over her shoulders, blushing as she saw you.  Bucky leaned on the doorframe and smirked at her.  

“You’ll call me next time you’re in town, right?”  She asked, giggling at him a little.  Your nose wrinkled a little as you smelled the weed on her, and you rolled your eyes.  

“Sure thing, doll.” He nodded.  You cleared your throat.  

“This way, hon, the show’s about to start,” you said softly and walked off with her. You gently pushed her through the curtain and security walked her to her seat.  You turned and sighed softly and bumped into Bucky. “Oh, I’m sorry.” You said quickly pushing yourself off him.  He grinned down at you.

“Not a problem, kitten,” he said.  You made a face.

“My name is y/n. Not kitten.” You corrected him, and he slowly smirked at you.

“Apologies, kitten.” He said again and you rolled your eyes, walking back toward the side stage.  He trailed along behind you.

“You’re the assistant tour manager or something, right?” he asked. “You’re always here late, setting shit up.”

“Yep.” You responded, your eyes on your clipboard as you walked.

“Don’t you ever do anything other than work?” he asked, snatching your clipboard away from you. You turned immediately and he held the clipboard over your head, laughing as you tried to grab it.  You punched him in the stomach, thinking he would bend over, and he just laughed more. “You call that a punch?”

“You’re an asshole.” You said, punching your fists to your hips.

“And you’re short.  Didn’t know we were saying obvious things,” he responded.  You both glanced over at the stage as you heard the stage manager call out that there were five minutes left until show time.  Bucky brought down the clipboard and you snatched it from his hand.

“Break a leg.” You said to him.  “Literally.” You turned walking away, shivering as you felt Bucky’s gaze on you.

 ******

 You sighed softly as you walked through the venue later that night, after the show was finished.  The band had only one more show in this building, but there had been consistent problems with the haze machines setting off the fire detectors.  Which by definition was not supposed to happen, since the haze mix was water based.  You assumed that the haze tech had just ordered whatever was cheapest and you wanted to double check that the machines were working properly.  As you pushed the door open, you heard drums from the stage and swore to yourself.  Of course, Bucky was here.  This night couldn’t get worse.  

You walked backstage and fiddled around with the machines, sighing as you did. The haze tech had ended up screwing up one of the machines with a mix of different hazes, so of course it was your job to fix it now.  The tour manager didn’t want to spend extra money, and you had been touring since you were a kid, your parents both a huge part of the industry.  

“Didn’t know you were here,” you heard and looked up as Bucky walked backstage, twirling his drumsticks, grinning at you.  You rolled your eyes.

“Someone has to clean up after everyone’s messes.” You responded.

“Mmm.” He grinned and leaned on the road case next to you.  “You’re the one that helps with the girls, aren’t you?” he asked, and your cheeks flushed red as you worked.  You didn’t look up at him, refusing to let him see you blush.  

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for that.” Bucky said.  “They get clingy after a while.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yes, we’ve established that.” Bucky grinned.  

“I don’t want to hear about your fucking sex addiction right now, Barnes.  I’m trying to fix this haze machine.” You said finally looking up at him.  

“Oh, I’ll be real, its not an addiction.  I’m just very into sex, and I enjoy it.”  He grinned. “Don’t you enjoy it?”

“I’m not talking about sex with you.” You said and looked down at the machine.

“Oh, come on.  That’s gonna make me think you’re a virgin.”  He chuckled and you didn’t reply. “Wait… no way.  You’re actually a virgin?” he asked.  You rolled your eyes.

“My sex life is none of your business.”  You said, your voice shaking a little nervously.  

“So, you are a virgin.” He responded, grinning.  He hopped onto the road case, swinging his legs.  “How have you been on the road this long without at the very least getting head?”

“Oh my God.” You mumbled, your face blushing bright red. “You’re such an—”

“Asshole, yeah, it’s on my resume,” Bucky smirked.  “You’ve got to have thought about it.  I mean.  It can’t be easy, hearing me fuck nearly everyone on this tour—”

“You’re such an arrogant asshole, not everyone wants to—”

“Yeah, but you do,” Bucky cut you off.  “I’ve seen how you look at the girls that leave my room.  You’re jealous, aren’t you, kitten?”

“Don’t call me that.”  You said, shivering just a little.  Unfortunately, Bucky noticed.  

“You are jealous,” he said grinning and sliding off the road case, moving toward you.  “You’ve probably touched yourself to hearing me with those other people, haven’t you kitten?” You backed away, shaking a little.

“Bucky--“

“Now don’t lie to me kitten,” he said smirking as you bumped into another road case. He placed a hand on either side of you and grinned down at you. “How long have you wanted to kiss me, kitten?” he asked, and you whimpered a little at the nickname.

“I…” you stammered out as you felt his calloused fingers drift down the skin of your arm. “Bucky…”

“So, a while,” he chuckled softly, leaning so his lips brushed across your neck. “If you don’t want this, tell me.  I’m an asshole, not a jerk.” He said grinning a little.  You bit your lip, looking up at him.  In truth, he was right.  You had wanted this for so long.  You had held off, not wanting to be that girl that slept with the drummer, that slept with people to get ahead.  But let’s be real—Bucky had slept with half the crew already—not just women, but men too, and non-binary people.  You wouldn’t get looked down on at all, and if anyone did, they’d be looking down on themselves as well.  

“Kiss me,” you said softly and a second later you felt Bucky’s lips crash against yours in a fevered kiss as he lifted you effortlessly onto the road case.  Your legs wrapped around his hips automatically as he gripped your hips tightly.  You slipped your fingers through his hair, shivering as you heard a groan fall from his lips as you tugged gently.  He pulled away from your mouth, kissing down your neck, worshiping the area where your jaw met your neck. “Don’t leave a mark—” you gasped out, your face burning and he smirked at you.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he growled, and you felt a wetness pool between your thighs as he growled at you.  You whimpered as you felt his teeth work at your skin, your fingers gripping his hair tightly as you moaned, pushing your hips into his.  “God, you’re so needy for me, aren’t you, kitten?” he purred into your ear, one of his hands finding its way up your shirt and pushing it up, exposing your breasts to the cold air.  You gasped out his name breathlessly as he pinched and pulled at your nipple.  “Such a good, responsive girl, hmm?” he whispered into your ear.  “Never had anyone touch you like this, have you?  Never had anyone make you feel this good, have you, kitten?”

“No, Bucky, no one,” you breathed out whimpering and arching your back.  He slipped his hands down your body, unbuttoning your pants.

“I’m going to take my time with you, kitten,” he smirked, kneeling in front of you as he pulled your pants down past your knees.  

“What… What are you…” you panted, watching him, then falling back onto your elbows with a gasp as he flicked his tongue against your clit.  “Holy shit” you cried out as he sucked your clit into his mouth, rubbing his finger around your entrance, collecting your slick on his fingers. He slowly pulled away, smirking up at you as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, tasting you.

“God, kitten, you’re nearly dripping for me,” he whispered.  “You’re so wet for me, kitten, and I’ve barely even done anything.”

“Bucky, please—” you begged.

“I’ll be nice to you this once, kitten, because it’s your first,” he grinned.  “Remember that.”  He leaned forward again, slipping his tongue into you as you moaned almost immediately, your head falling back as your chest heaved with your heavy breaths. He slipped a finger into you, pumping in and out as you arched up into his hand.  “Where is it, kitten, where’s your spot—” he whispered and suddenly you felt a burst of pleasure and you cried out, your hips bucking up.

“Jesus Christ—”

“Just Bucky is fine,” he smirked, and any other time you would have punched him in the arm, but he added another finger and oh fuck he was hitting that spot again, and everything was feeling so good, and he was moaning and sucking on your clit and…and…and…

“Bucky, holy fuck!” you cried out, your back arching as you clenched around his fingers, cumming harder than you ever had before by your own hand or vibrator. He slowly pumped his fingers in and out, rising from his knees to kiss you deeply through it as your legs shook. You pulled away, gasping as he slowly pulled his fingers from you.  You moaned softly as he licked his fingers, grinning at you.

“God, kitten, you taste so good for me,” he smirked softly and kissed you.  You shivered as you tasted yourself on his lips, and he pulled away, tilting your head up, his finger hooked under your chin. “Meet me in my dressing room tomorrow, after load out,” he smirked. “There’s so much more I want to teach you.”

[vintage-writes]

I Got Jealous   (Bakugo x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

Warnings: None, this is a Fluff fic. The reader is also gender neutral. Bakugo is aged up though, they are no longer U.A. Students. A Reader who doesn’t take shit.

Summary: Bakugo is getting incredibly Jealous as a certain someone continues to eye you up. Unable to control his Jealousy he drags you away and to a corner to ravage you.

Word Count: 1 396

              _________________________________________________

The crowds are dense as you move through the thick mass of bodies. Soft apologies being thrown as you bump into, what feels like, a million people. Right now, You and your boyfriend, Bakugo, are currently half jogging down the pavement. You're on your way to the very first Hero convention being held by U.A and you’re bursting with excitement. Bakugo’s excitement is simmering beneath the surface, he has a scowl on his face but you know him well enough to know he’s excited to see All Might, after leaving U.A.. The paths are completely packed by strangers and students alike. U.A. is buzzing with life.

However, Your excitable pace matched with the bustling crowd makes it hard for Bakugo to keep up. He’s trailing behind you at a jagged pace as you dart through the crowd.

“Oi, wait a second”, he shouts at you.

You glance over your shoulder at Bakugo who has fallen a little too far behind. You nibble on your bottom lip, feeling a bit guilty. You are well aware that perhaps you are moving a bit too fast but there’s a hero you really want to see. They’re your Idol. But some idiot decided to put their section on the complete opposite side of campus.

Right now, Bakugo’s speed just isn’t cutting it.

As Bakugo catches up, you decide move to the side, where it's quieter. You walk along the brick wall and notice as Bakugo’s mood continues to sour. Is it because you’re moving too fast?  Does he not want to see your idol? A wave of anxiety and annoyance hits you all at once, unsure of what to make of the situation. Your excitement dies a little. You don’t want to deal with boyfriend issues.

Your footsteps begin to slow. You turn to watch Bakugo, however, to your surprise, he’s not paying attention to you. His line of sight is directed elsewhere. You look to where he’s currently death glaring and make eye-contact with Monoma. His blonde hair has been combed to the side. His grey eyes light up slightly as he smiles at you. He waves.

You smile and raise your hand in greeting. However before you wave, Bakugo suddenly appears behind you. One hand laces into your raised one, other hand landing landing on your hip. Monoma stops dead in his tracks as Bakugo drags you away, and rounds a corner, shoving you into an alleyway. He pushes you against the wall, trapping you between his strong arms. He leans in. His breaths are ragged. He smells musky, but the faint smell of burning sugar lets you know he’s activated his quirk. His jealousy has him practically frothing before you. He’s so close you can feel his short breaths fanning against your lips. Sparks are literally flying.

And he’s diving forward. Two lips meeting. His presence engulfs you. You’re drowning in his sweet taste. Bakugo pushes you flat against your back. He’s pinning you against the wall, you’re stuck, flush against him. He’s hot. Very hot. Your lips are dancing against each other as he devours you. Your tongues fight each other for dominance, but Bakugo’s anger has you caving into him. You let him take the lead as he completely dominates the space between you.

He pulls away, but stays close. He places a kiss on your forehead before moving to rest his head on your shoulder. He takes his arms off the wall and wraps them around your waist.

Suddenly, the angry chihuahua has receded into himself. Too embarrassed to look at you while you desperately try to catch your breath. You bring your arms up to hug him.

“Babe, what are you doing?” you ask, breathlessly. Bakugo, is normally not one for any sort of PDA, sometimes, he won’t even hold your hand. You’ve become rather accustomed to it seeing as Lord Explosion Murder melts into your hands when alone at home. Never in a million years would you expect him to drag you away during an incredibly busy convention to kiss you silly in a barely hidden corner.

Bakugo’s head is currently buried into your shoulder. Upon hearing your question he turns his head and places a shy peck to your neck.

He mumbles, “I’m sorry, I got jealous.”

Jealous? He’s Jealous? 

“Of Monoma?”, you ask aloud. 

Bakugo’s head immediately shoots up, as if in sudden denial. His red eyes are bursting with rage.

“That Extra was being way too cocky, eyeing you up like that!”

“He waved”

“AND HE WAVED!!”

“That’s really not what I meant”, you say.

“Is it such a big deal? Monoma and I are just friends”, you ask.

“Is he aware that you’re just friends!?”

Feeling your anger suddenly flare, you blurt out, “I’m not seeing the issue Bakugou. Can I not have male friends? What if I’m also into girls too? Should I now delete Momo’s number?”

Bakugo looks like he’s about to spit fire. His mouth opens to protest but no words come out. He huffs. He looks to the sky. He better not be asking for patience, as far as you’re concerned, you haven’t done anything wrong. You’re the one who should be asking for patience. It’s not like you told Monoma that you were single with an open bedroom door. You barely had the chance to wave at him.

“No”, he says reluctantly, “No, you’re right. I think I might’ve blown up a bit. But that extra is always eyeing you. It’s not that I don’t trust you, Love. It’s more that I don't like looking at his sleazy face sending you looks as if he has a chance.”

You laugh. Bakugo’s anger has risen significantly, his scowl is baring teeth. But God Damn you, if he’s not the most adorable you’ve ever seen him. Despite his rising anger you can see he’s really trying his best to calm down and remain calm. It’s not really working. You imagine that Monoma’s head is currently roasting on a spit in his head. Your chuckles begin to subside at his confused expression. His face is the picture of innocence. 

You reach forward to grab him, pulling him into a hug. His hard body presses against your own. Despite Bakugo’s initial confusion he wraps his arms around you anyway. You couldn’t believe that he would go so far because he’s jealous. Bakugo isn’t exactly reserved but he is often reluctant to show affection. Most people are still unaware you’re even dating. He prefers to remain in his own world.

“Babe”, you say, “It’s okay to be jealous. I know I would probably bury anybody who thought they could flirt with you, but maybe next time, just tell me. I would rather you tell me, instead of going ape shit.”

You lean up and place your lips on his. This kiss is softer, it lacks the original aggression and desperation but it still feels heated. Possibly, everything that has anything to do with Bakugo, will always feel heated. This man sets the world on fire, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

You pull away and move to the entrance of the alleyway. There you have a clear view of Monoma who looks over. He glares at Bakugo and looks at you with a look that simply says, “I’ll kill him if you want,”

You shake your head. Men are so hormonal. Instead you turn back to Bakugo and place your hand on his cheek, rising onto your tippy toes, you peck his lips. You make sure Monoma has a clear view.

Bakugo’s face completely whitens at your bold public display of affection. His surprise reflects on Monomas face as well. Good, that solves that problem.

You reach for Bakugo’s hand and begin to drag him away. His face is still white. His expression is still hollow. His brain is probably still processing. It’s hard to believe that this is the man who was so bold not even 5 minutes ago.

“Eh?”

You giggle up at him. Adorable.

“You know, Babe”, You say, “Maybe you wouldn’t be so jealous if you kept up with me.”

With both hands entwined you break into a sprint. Bakugo’s face finally cracks a smile as he runs beside you.

“Now we’re late!”, You shout.

“I’ll make it up to you Later!” He laughs Back.

[emerald-studies]

How to be an Ally

 Discussions on Race Pt. 2

June 29, 2020

Day 1 of 7

Post with fixed links here!: 

https://emerald-studies.tumblr.com/post/626271345488150528/how-to-be-an-ally

Reblog this one!

[ These are just some thoughts I have in my head about this topic, it isn’t meant to be a purely academic discussion. It’s meant to be a conversation to learn about another perspective. ]     

Also sorry this one took longer than previous posts, I had to do a lot of research.     

-

1.  Check In On Your Black Friends/Acquaintances 

 In my opinion, I believe the best way to be an ally is to reach out to your Black friends and check in on them, consistently. If you can recognize the times we are living in are absolute hell, you should be checking in on the most effected. None of my friends have checked up on me to see how I was doing or just to talk. They didn’t even bring up the protests until I did. It feels very very lonely and scary to not be checked up on by the people who say they support and love you. So, I’m making this the first point because I don’t want anyone else to feel this way, not trying to complain.

2.  Learn More About Black History

It’s important to learn about the Black activists that our history books left out. Yes, Martin Luther King Jr. was, and is, important but we need to reflect on why he was pushed on us so much in our history classes, compared to other Black leaders. Is it because our government would rather us walk down the street holding signs than actually defending ourselves against the cop who’s beating us?

Here’s a master list of activists to start you off.

3.  Go to Rallies and Protests

Find protests and rallies in your area by looking on Twitter and search #yourcityprotest. Or watch your local news channel to see where they are (if they’re being covered on the news). Also search on Facebook. Wear a mask.

4. Donate and Sign Petitions

If you don’t have extra money to donate, that’s fine. If you still want to be an ally then sign all the petitions you can. Take a day to research all the ones you can sign/haven’t signed and sign them!

(Also you don’t need to donate to change.org! Directly donate to non-profit organizations and victims’ families!)

George Floyd - change.org

George Floyd - amnesty.org

George Floyd - colorofchange.org

Get The Officers Charged

Charge All Four Officers

Breonna Taylor - moveon.org

Breonna Taylor - colorofchange.org

Breonna Taylor - justiceforbreonna.org

Breonna Taylor - change.org

Breonna Taylor - thepetitionsite.com

Ahmaud Arbery - change.org

Ahmaud Arbery - change.org 2

Ahmaud Arbery - change.org 3

Justice for Oluwatoyin Salau

Pass The Georgia Hate Crime Bill

Defund MPD

Life Sentence For Police Brutality

Regis Korchinski - change.org

Tete Gulley - change.org

Tony McDade - change.org

Tony McDade - actionnetwork.org

Tony McDade - thepetitionsite.com

Joao Pedro - change.org

Julius Jones - change.org

Belly Mujinga - change.org

Willie Simmons - change.org

Hands Up Act - change.org

National Action Against Police Brutality

Kyjuanzi Harris - change.org

Alejandro Vargas Martinez - change.org

Censorship Of Police Brutality In France

Sean Reed - change.org

Sean Reed - change.org 2

Kendrick Johnson - change.org

Tamir Rice - change.org

Tamir Rice - change.org 2

Fire Racist Criminal From The NYPD

Jamee Johnson - organizefor.org

Darius Stewart - change.org

Darius Stewart - moveon.org

Abolish Prison Labor

Free Siyanda - change.org

Chrystul Kizer - change.org

Chrystul Kizer - change.org 2

Andile Mchunu (Bobo) - change.org

Eric Riddick - change.org

Amiya Braxton - change.org

Emerald Black - change.org

Elijah Nichols - change.org

Zinedine Karabo Gioia - change.org

Angel Bumpass - change.org

Sheku Bayoh - change.org

Angel DeCarlo - change.org

Sandra Bland - change.org

Sherrie Walker - change.org

Darrien Hunt - change.org

Cornelius Fredericks - change.org

Elijah McClain - change.org

James Scurlock - change.org

Darren Rainey- change.org

Visit these sites for more info:

http://www.pb-resources.com/

https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/

5. Educate yourself and others.

Articles: 

- “America’s Racial Contract Is Killing Us” by Adam Serwer | Atlantic (May 8, 2020)

- Ella Baker and the Black Freedom Movement (Mentoring a New Generation of Activists

- ”My Life as an Undocumented Immigrant” by Jose Antonio Vargas | NYT Mag (June 22, 2011)

- The 1619 Project (all the articles) | The New York Times Magazine

- The Combahee River Collective Statement

- “The Intersectionality Wars” by Jane Coaston | Vox (May 28, 2019)

- Tips for Creating Effective White Caucus Groups developed by Craig Elliott PhD

- “Where do I donate? Why is the uprising violent? Should I go protest?” by Courtney Martin (June 1, 2020)

- ”White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack” by Knapsack Peggy McIntosh

- “Who Gets to Be Afraid in America?” by Dr. Ibram X. Kendi | Atlantic (May 12, 2020)

Movies/TV Shows: 

When They See Us

American Son

Hello Privilege, It’s Me, Chelsea

The 13th

Murder to Mercy: The Cyntoia Brown Story 

What Happened Miss Simone?

The Two Killings of Sam Cooke

Who Killed Malcolm X?

The Death and Life of Marsha P. Johnson

Homecoming: A Film by Beyonce (Lighter in tone)

LA 92

Dear White People

Videos:

- Black Feminism & the Movement for Black Lives: Barbara Smith, Reina Gossett, Charlene Carruthers (50:48)

- “How Studying Privilege Systems Can Strengthen Compassion” | Peggy McIntosh at TEDxTimberlaneSchools (18:26)

- American Oxygen - Rihanna

- Formation - Beyonce 

Podcasts:

- Malcolm X Speeches

- 1619 (New York Times)

- About Race

- Code Switch (NPR)

- Intersectionality Matters! hosted by Kimberlé Crenshaw

- Momentum: A Race Forward Podcast

- Pod For The Cause (from The Leadership Conference on Civil & Human Rights)

- Pod Save the People (Crooked Media)

- Seeing White

Books:

- The Autobiography of Malcolm X

- Why I'm No Longer Talking to White People About RaceBook by Reni Eddo-Lodge

- Black Feminist Thought by Patricia Hill Collins

- Eloquent Rage: A Black Feminist Discovers Her Superpower by Dr. Brittney Cooper

- Heavy: An American Memoir by Kiese Laymon

- How To Be An Antiracist by Dr. Ibram X. Kendi

- I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

- Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson

- Me and White Supremacy by Layla F. Saad

- Raising Our Hands by Jenna Arnold

- Redefining Realness by Janet Mock

- Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde

- So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo

- The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison

- The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin

- The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander

- The Next American Revolution: Sustainable Activism for the Twenty-First Century by Grace Lee Boggs

- The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson

- Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

- This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color by Cherríe Moraga

- When Affirmative Action Was White: An Untold History of Racial Inequality in Twentieth-Century America by Ira Katznelson

- White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism by Robin DiAngelo, PhD

Follow:

- Shaun King: Instagram | Twitter | Website

- Antiracism Center: Twitter

- Audre Lorde Project: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

- Black Women’s Blueprint: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

- Color Of Change: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

- Colorlines: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

- The Conscious Kid: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

- Equal Justice Initiative (EJI): Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

- Families Belong Together: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

- The Leadership Conference on Civil & Human Rights: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

- MPowerChange: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

- Muslim Girl: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

- NAACP: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

- National Domestic Workers Alliance: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

- Ziwe | Instagram | (She has discussions about race with White people, kinda grilling them, every Thursday at 8 p.m. EST. Super thrilling to watch.)

Here’s Some Music Too:

Change Gonna Come - Sam Cooke

Chain Gang - Nina Simone

Missisippi Goddamn - Nina Simone

Fuck Da’ Police - N.W.A.

New Slaves - Kanye

This is America - Childish Gambino

I’m Not Racist - Joyner Lucas

Fight the Power - Public Enemy

Glory - Common, John Legend

Freedom (Live) - Beyonce

I Can’t Breathe - H.E.R.

American Oxygen - Rihanna

Brown Skin Girl - Beyonce 

+

My Playlist With A Few More

Black Artists Matter Playlist

What a large list! It looks so overwhelming! Don’t worry, you don’t have to read/watch/listen to everything. It takes a lot of effort!

  Jk. 

If you don’t want to do some homework and good deeds, then you don’t want to be an ally. And that’s perfectly fine. Just don’t lie to yourself about it.

Tough shit.

-

Discussion time.

Who are your favorite Black activists that you didn’t learn about in school?

(Mine is Huey P. Newton)

Favorite song by a Black artist? 

(Mine is Freedom by Beyonce but the live version)

Let me know what you think here

-Faith

[coffeecakefanfics]

The 1,001 Clichés of A Teenage Romance (Peter Parker x Fem!Reader)

Studying with Ned was nothing new to Peter, but actually stopping by ‘Kay’s Coffee and bakery’ for coffee was.  The coffee shop sat two buildings down from his apartment and Aunt May would stop in before work every morning.  With her day off she asked Peter and Ned to run and get her a coffee and whatever they’d like.  

It was a typical coffee shop, the walls were painted a muted cream and the tables were a beautiful sturdy oak.  There were pictures of New York plastered on the wall along with a big picture of the “Kay” family.  Behind the counter was a menue board along with a black board with the desserts of the day scribbled in pink and yellow chalk.  

���Good morning, welcome to Kay’s Coffee and Bakery where every cup is brewed fresh and every baked good is homemade how can I help yo- Oh hey I know you two from school,”  The girl stood behind the counter.  She had a smile on her face.  She wore a plain black long sleeve with a small Kay’s logo on the left breast.  The half apron she wore was black and the name tag was pinned to the top ‘Y/N’

“We have Calc, bio, and english together and im pretty sure we share a lunch break too,” she beamed.

“Oh yeah you’re in drama and on the volleyball team right?” Ned kind of lit up.

“Yup, and i’m in knowledge bowl, student council, and they’re trying to get me to join prom planning,” she kind of laughed. Peter recognized her alright, she was the top hitter on the volleyball team, he remembers watching her last season with MJ. 

“You stay busy then?” Peter piped up this time.

“Well I mean between school, clubs, and work i’m surprised I have time for anything else,” She took a deep breath at that. “So, what can I get you guys?”

“I need an,” Peter looked at the text May had sent him, “Iced French Vanilla with Extra Extra Cream and white chocolate syrup and a coffee cake muffin” he finished and peeked up at the girl who was already brewing the drink. 

“So you’re the famous nephew huh?” she teased as she poured the creamer into the cup. Peters face went flush and he started to stutter

“I-well I uh”

“It’s fine, I think it’s sweet.  She tells me how good you take care of her and the trouble you get in to.  It’s honestly one of my favorite parts of my morning.  Everyone else is suuuch a drag,” She laughed and slid the drink and muffin across the counter. “Anything else?”

“We don’t really drink coffee,” Peter turned to Ned. “do you want anything?”

“Yeah can I have a hot chocolate?”  He asked.

“Of course, plain or with extras, extras are free of charge except espresso shots”

“However you like it is fine”

“alright that’ll be $8.27 thank you,” she took the cash, gave them change and went to making the drink. 

“May We’re back” Peter called into the apartment.  May came almost running from the couch to grab her coffee. 

“You are a life saver,” she kissed the top of his head.

“Come oonn” he gently pushed her back.

“Where’s Ned?”

“He had to go home, something about a new episode of a show, I don’t know” He flopped onto the chair cockeyed to the couch.

“She’s cute right?” May smirked and set her drink down.

“I mean yeah, She’s pretty, but she’s also popular,” he shrugged. 

“Peter, baby, she has a job and a full ride to MIT, not to mention she likes a lot of the same dorky stuff you do,” she shifted and looked at him. “You haven’t been on a date in years Pete, why not go now?” she poked.

“She probably already has someone, I mean she is popular, remember?”

“I think you should go for it, get out of the house,” The conversation ended there. Peter laid in bed that night thinking about how he’d spot her in class or in the halls.  She was pretty, but she was also busy, he didn’t want to mess with her schedule. 

Lunch rooms are the devil, they’re clique filled and loud, but the only time he can actually talk to his friends. 

“Come on you KNOW that padme just lost the will to live,” How the topic started none of them new all they new was Peter and Ned were going at it again and MJ wanted out. “Dude she just gave up, her husband joined the darkside, face the facts”

“Actually, Palpatine took her life force for Anakin, Padme was a strong woman who fought for what was right, she wouldn’t just leave her babies alone,” Y/n jumped in and sat next to MJ. Ned and Peter looked at each other and back at the girl.

“What i’m popular not uncultured,” she laughed. “Okay MJ I need some serious help with knowledge bowl studying”

“Y/n, I love you, I do, but I’m busy this week, I have a ton of homework because Mr. Braun decided to be a dick, I’m sorry,” MJ spoke remorsefully.

“My meet is monday, it’s going to decide who goes to state, is there no way you can help,” Y/n pleaded with her friend.

“I’m sorry, I am, but I can’t fail this class”

“You’re right I’m sorry, if you need help studying or doing homework i’ll help you” She smiled and went to stand. 

“Peter can help,” Ned blurted

“I can?” Peter turned his head sharply.

“He can, he has a stark internship until 6 but after that he’s free,” Ned motioned with his eyes from Peter to the Girl.  

“I-uh-I, yeah I can help,” he stuttered and flushed.

“Peter you really don’t have to,” she gave him a sympathetic look.

“Yeah no, it’s uh, no problem,” he smiled awkwardly.

“You just saved my life, I owe you.  I’ll meet you at the coffee shop and we can go to my place after okay?” she beamed.  Peter liked her smile, it was bright. 

“Of course” he grinned. 

“Y/N, Game plan!” One of the other girls called.

“Sorry, I have to go but tonight at 6,” she lit up as she grabbed her tray and jogged over to her friends.

“What the fuck?” peter turned to Ned.

“I saw how you looked at her at the coffee shop, and you haven’t been on a date in years. it’s my job as a wing man to help you get dates,” Ned shrugged and took a bite of the sandwich in front of him. Peter sighed and pulled his phone out.

P:Hey May, I’m helping a friend study I won’t be home till late

M:You’re not patrolling are you?

P:No, I’m seriously helping a friend study

M:Stay safe, I sent you $10 for dinner <3

The streets were dim when Peter walked up to the shop.  She stood locking the door.

“Hey” He called.

“Peter Hi,” she grinned and waved. 

“So um, y-your place?” he tugged at his straps. 

“Yeah, I live in those apartments right there,” she nodded at the building two doors down.

“Wait, what? so do I, how come I never see you?” he turns to her. 

“I usually take the fire escape home, I hate walking through the lobby, and I can sneak in without having to talk to my family,” she laughed. “Not that they’re bad people, I just get over worked and don’t want to take it out on them” they walked into the lobby and got in the elevator.

“Don’t worry about them being home, I live with my dad and he’s on a business trip,” she unlocked the door and let Peter walk in.  It was cleanly decorated with neutral greys, whites and blacks. 

“This is nice,” he lets his eyes wander the apartment.

“Yeah, it’s how my mom liked it,” she smiled sadly.  Peter remembers it happening, it was one of the attacks on New York, The avengers couldn’t get everyone out in time, 3 people had died that day.

“I’m sorry for your loss”

“I’m not, she’s why I do what I do” The girl smiles and kicks her shoes off, “my room is back here, it’s way cooler than this,” she laughs and drags him to her room.  Warm LED lights illuminate the room.  Peter spins and looks at all the posters and figurines scattered around the room.  The walls are decorated with posters of various animes and shows. He turns to the tv stand and sees shelves full of games. 

“Told you I’m cultured,” she teases and sits on the bed. Peter sits next to her.  She pulls out her laptop and plugs a flash drive into it. 

“So this will give you questions and the answer, I get a point if I get it right,” she smiles and spins the screen to him. “thanks for doing this, by the way,” she adjusts and holds a decorative pillow to her chest.

They had been at this for nearly two hours she was growing frustrated and uneasy.

“Who wrote A farewell to Arms?”

“Hemmingway” she looed pleadingly

“Yes,” he beamed and went to click next.

“I can’t anymore, I’m done,” she flopped back on the bed. “This sucks” she yells muffled by her pillow.

“Then why keep doing it?” he closes the laptop. She sits up and pushes her hair out of her face. 

“That is a topic for a different level of friendship,” she smirks and looks him over.  She had had a crush on him forever, and by forever she means since last year.  She admired how his eyes kind of drifted around the room. 

“Do you need to go home yet?” she asked. His eyes jumped back to her and locked. 

“No, I live two floors down so it’ll only take a minute to get home”

“Do you want to play a game or watch a movie?” she asked, getting up and grabbing the controller. His face kind of flushed. “A-a movie is fine”

“What? scared I’ll kicked your ass or something?” she smirked.

“No way I just don’t want to make you cry when I beat you,” he joked cockily with her.

“Oh you’re on Parker, Injustice 2?” she looked back at him and he nodded.

“Black Canary is way to OP this is bullshit,” Peter throws his hands up. Y/N laid laughing at him.  His phone cut the laughter short.

“it’s May sorry,” he picked up the phone. “Peter it’s 10 pm where are you?!” she called into the line.

“there’s no way it’s-” he looked at his watch. “Oh shit, May I’m sorry i’m coming down now,” he hung up.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize how late it is,” he scrambled to grab his stuff. 

“Fire escape is faster than the lobby, there’s a window to the hallway if you go to the right” she grabbed his phone and bag for him. 

“i had fun,” he smiled at her.

“I did too, especially since I kicked your ass at injustice,” she smirked.

“I’ll see you at school monday?” he asked.

“Um, I’m free saturday if you want to come over, we can play games or watch a movie or something? I’ll get us pizza or-” she trailed off.

“I’d love to,” he blushed.

“It’s a date,” she smiled and opened her window. Peter stepped out onto the landing. 

“Hey peter?” she called and he turned to her.  She leaned out and kissed his cheek. “A little something for the road,” she held something wrapped in white paper to him. He shut the door to his apartment. 

“There you are, I was worried sick,” May scolded.

“I was upstairs with a friend, I’m sorry we lost track of time.  He set the paper on the counter and opened it.  A fresh coffee cake was sitting in a small box with a note

‘For May and Peter’ 

[keanureevesisbae]

Coach Cavill - Chapter 6

Summary: Henry is driving Amelia and Isabella to school, but at what price? 

Coach!Henry Cavill x Amelia Jung (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: None

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

‘That hurts, mom!’

I scoff, as I put in an elastic at the bottom of the braid. ‘You told me you wanted tight Dutch braids, that would sit right the entire day,’ I retort. ‘So now I am making tight Dutch braids that will probably sit right all day and now you are whining about it. You are quite something, miss Isabella Jung.’

Benji pulls his lips in, trying to hold in a laugh, but he fails miserably. ‘Don’t yell at mom,’ he says to his sister. ‘She is just nervous.’

‘How dare you?’ I ask Benji, pointing my index finger at him, ‘insinuating that I’m nervous. I am not nervous. Why on earth do you think I would be nervous?’

‘Because coach Cavill is going to pick you and Isabella up,’ he says, with the biggest duh-face I’ve ever seen, ‘and you chew your cheek as you always do when you’re nervous. Don’t worry, mom, he offered it himself and he likes to do it. I just know that.’

‘Mom is in love,’ Isabella sings.

‘Oh, shut your face,’ I laugh. ‘Benji, you sure you don’t mind that Henry won’t be driving you to school?’

‘I don’t mind. As usual, Lola, Jake and I can drive with Hattie and I don’t mind being here by myself.’

Isabella is giggling and it’s the type of giggle that doesn’t predict anything good. ‘Mom, if Henry and you start dating,’ she starts. See, that’s not anything good and especially not something I want to hear right now.

‘No, no, don’t you dare going there.’

But she will, she always does. Why do I even bother trying to raise this kid? She always goes her own way. ‘Will he become my dad?’

‘No, honey, you already have a dad,’ I say. ‘Can we not discuss this? Please?’

The doorbell rings loudly and I quickly rush to the door, thankful that it interrupted this awkward moment. However, we haven’t finished this conversation properly and I sure hope that Isabella won’t bring it up when Henry joins us.

When I open the door, I can’t help but smile.

Henry looks so handsome. His brown leather jacket hangs open, revealing a black cable knitted sweater, paired with jeans that accentuate every beautiful part of his legs. They are so well shaped, goodness me.

‘Good morning, Amelia.’

‘Good morning, Henry,’ I say, after I recovered from the initial shock of the deepness of his voice. I heard him talk to me yesterday and times we met before, but today it has a bit of a morning rasp to it and it nearly makes me go weak in the knees. ‘Ten minutes early. Fashionably early, I dig it.’

You dig it? Oh my, Amelia, how old are you? I hate myself.

He smiles. ‘I need to make a very good impression on you and the kids and need to make sure that you know you can rely on me,’ he says. ‘Anyway, I brought you a cappuccino, a coffee for Benji and orange juice for Isabella. I hope that’s good.’

‘That’s wonderfully sweet. Please come in.’

Henry steps inside, as he hands me my cappuccino. ‘It is not as great as mine, but the cafe downtown is pretty decent.’ He walks to the kitchen and says: ‘A very good morning to you two.’

‘Coach, my mom is—’

‘This close of grabbing scissors and chopping of your braids,’ I say as I enter the kitchen. ‘And I’ll seriously do it.’

Isabella wants to sulk, but one simple raised eyebrow, is somehow doing wonders, because she keeps quiet. ‘Thank you for the orange juice, coach,’ she says.

‘Yeah, thanks,’ Benji says with a smile, taking a sip of his coffee.

‘Aren’t you a bit too young for coffee, Benji?’ Henry asks.

‘No,’ he mumbles.

‘I get where you are coming from,’ I say, sitting next to Benji, ‘but after his first all nighter, he was addicted and that might’ve been partially my fault. I may have poured him some coffee, because I didn’t want him to start drinking energy drinks.’

‘Benji, my man,’ Henry says, ‘your mom is a smart woman. You should always listen to her, she knows best.’

‘And she is also very pretty,’ Isabella adds and even from the corners of my eyes, I can see the smug grin on her face.

‘Okay, young lady: grab your bag, we’re leaving in three minutes.’

Isabella nods with a cheeky grin on her face, before rushing upstairs.

‘Oh, Henry, before I forget…’ I grab a wrapped up sandwich, throwing it to Henry. ‘Okay, Benji, I wish you all the best of luck on your test. You’re a smart boy, you’ll ace it. Remember K is Potassium.’

‘Good luck, kid,’ Henry says, patting Benji on his shoulder.

Once Isabella finally is ready, we all sit in my car and it’s actually nice to finally not be the driver for once, but a passenger again. When Dean and I were still together, he’d always drive and I actually didn’t mind. I remember when we first started dating. We’d drive off to shore, spend hours on end with our feet in the sand and sneak off to places where no one could find us. In all the years after that, I just got in the passengers seat, out of a habit, but then Dean cheated, I had to buy a car because he took ours and of course I could drive, but it was difficult from time to time, to get used to not being the passenger anymore. Being a passenger reminded me of being loved. Reminded me of being taken care for.

I look to the side, staring at Henry’s beautiful profile, as he looks really good driving my car. Never thought someone like him would look this good in a car that screams “family-car”, considering the truck he drives.  

‘Mom, you are staring at Henry and you always tell me that is very rude.’

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Caught by my own daughter at a moment like this. My heart is painfully pounding in my chest, I can nearly feel the vibrations in my throat. ‘I’m not staring.’

‘Liar liar,’ Isabella starts and somehow Henry catches up and adds: ‘Pants on fire.’

‘I’m not a liar and my pants is no— Okay, okay, I was lying. I was totally staring at Henry, I’m  deeply sorry.’ I take a sip of my cappuccino to focus my thoughts on something else, but nearly choke on it when Isabella says: ‘Mom couldn’t stop smiling when she came home with Benji last night.’

‘Isabella Jung, you are really pushing it right now,’ I say, turning around. ‘Henry, stop the car. Isabella is going to walk to school.’

He already is slowing down, as he has a big grin on his face, but Isabella is quick to respond. ‘No, no, I’ll be good. I don’t want to walk to school. It’s still dark outside and mom, you know I don’t like that.’

‘Then zip it.’

‘Okay,’ she mumbles.

I lean back against the seat and have to use all my willpower to not look to the side again.

‘So, Isabella, what are you doing at school right now, as you have to wait for your classmates?’ Henry asks.

‘Well, normally I would go with Yara to school, so we could play in our classroom before school, but she has to go to the dentist now. She is a little afraid of her dentist, so I promised her that I would be extra nice to her when she comes back. I even brought a little snack for her.’

‘That’s very sweet of you,’ Henry says.

‘Well, nice people do sweet things. Like, you brought us something to drink. That is very sweet.’ Isabella chuckles and adds: ‘Can you do that every morning?’

‘Don’t answer that,’ I tell Henry. ‘Because if you say something that remotely looks like a yes, then this little one will hold you onto that.’

‘Sorry, kid, you heard your mom.’ Henry stops in front of the school and gets out of the car, after he firmly told us to stay put. He walks around and opens my door, as well as Isabella’s door. ‘Ladies,’ he says with a smile.

‘Thank you,’ I say with a chuckle and Isabella holds out her arms. Without thinking twice, Henry carries her out of her car seat and she has a bright smile on her face. I can’t help but be a mom and that role never stops, so I say: ‘What do we say?’

‘Thank you, coach,’ she says, as Henry gently puts her down again. ‘Mom barely carries me.’

‘That’s because you are getting too big for me to carry you on a daily basis,’ I tell her. ‘I mean, I wished you stayed two years old too, but unfortunately, you’re growing.’

Isabella sticks out her tongue.

‘Well, I wish you two all best of luck today,’ Henry says, jokingly pulling one of Isabella’s braids. ‘And what time do you want me here, Amelia?’

‘Four,’ I answer. ‘If that is okay with you.’

‘Of course that’s okay with me. I’ll be here at four. Enjoy your day, ladies!’

✰ ✰ ✰

Something is wrong, I think to myself when I walk out of the school at four. Henry sits on the drivers seat, the door wide open and his feet planted on the curb. He smiles when he sees me, before he gets out of the vehicle to meet me halfway. ‘Allow me, please,’ he says, taking my bags from me. Oh, what a gentleman. ‘Why are you frowning?’

‘Did you wash my car?’ I ask him, as we are nearing the vehicle that is shining like it barely does ever since I bought it.

His cheeks color red, as he stammers: ‘Well, I had some time to kill, so I figured I would go to the car wash. There was like an inch thick layer of sand on the back window.’

‘Don’t expose me like that, Henry Cavill,’ I laugh, as I nudge his side. ‘I can’t believe you did that. How can I pay you back? This all must’ve cost quite a bit.’

Henry shakes his head, as he opens the door on the passengers side for me. ‘Don’t you worry about that one single bit.’

‘Henry,’ I say, as I take a seat, ‘I’m a mother and a teacher. It’s my second nature to worry.’

He chuckles, as he closes the door and walks around the car. ‘Well, I’m serious, you don’t need to worry about it,’ he says to me as he gets in.

‘There has to be something that I can do to pay you back, even if I don’t actually give you money. Come on, I can walk your dog, I can make you more sandwiches, I can do your laundry.’

‘There is absolutely no need for you to do that. Besides, you can barely handle your own laundry, let alone mine.’

‘That is just plain mean,’ I laugh. ‘That was one time.’

‘Sure, it was,’ he teases me. ‘You know what, how about I’ll think of something you can do to pay me back and you will drop this issue, until I bring it up again.’

I can’t help but scoff a little. ‘Fine,’ I say. ‘But you do have to think of something.’

‘Will absolutely do, Amelia. Tell me, how was your day?’

Is this for real? Is he doing the whole domestic husband thing, that Dean stopped doing two years ago, where he asks me how my day went?

I lean back in the passengers seat and say: ‘It was okay. As usual, the little ones are absolutely adorable. Oh, and, I got bombarded with questions, because apparently, we’re on Instagram and the moms of Luna Meadows—single or not—are very jealous of me.’

‘What?’ he asks, visibly confused. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘The pumpkin patch pictures Hattie took of us?’ I try to help him remind and he starts to nod. ‘She posted them on the Instagram account of this town and people saw.’

‘Oh,’ he says, finally catching on. ‘Why are they jealous of you?’

‘No, no, no, no,’ I laugh, ‘don’t play dumb on me now. You know exactly why they are jealous of me.’

Henry shakes his head. ‘I honestly don’t.’

‘Do you not own a mirror? I mean, look at you. You are by far the most handsome man Luna Meadows has ever welcomed and I’m spending time with you.’

‘I highly doubt it,’ Henry says and this is honestly heart warming. Not only is he gorgeous, funny and caring, he is also a very humble man. Besides, he is blushing again and I like seeing a man who has the body of someone who can bend iron, so vulnerable like this.

‘No need for doubt.’ I can’t help but smile.

‘Well, I kinda understand now why every single man was looking at me with a cocked eyebrow and a look of pure jealously. You, Amelia, are the catch here in Luna Meadows.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Oh, so humble.’ Henry starts to laugh and I can’t help but chuckle. ‘Well, despite being the talk of the town, I really like being around you and your family. It all seems so familiar.’

I smile. ‘That means a lot.’

He parks the car next to my place and he tells me to stay put. He walks around the car and helps me out. Without a second thought, he grabs my bags and I say: ‘You know, thanks again for everything you did today for me. It hasn’t really been easy to do some things after the divorce and you just swooping in and doing this, it truly means a lot. It’s nice to not do everything myself for once, you know what I mean?’

‘I know what you mean and it’s not a problem at all,’ he says. ‘Once again, I’m happy to do it. I really have to go, I’m sorry. I have a few things to do.’

‘Don’t apologize,’ I say. ‘I will see you tonight and you have to promise me that you’re going to think about how I can thank you.’ My pointer finger digs into his sweater and he starts to laugh, before promising he will think about it.

‘I’ll see you tonight and say hello to the rest, okay?’

‘Will do.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Benji is in the locker room, changing out of his judogi into his normal clothes. As usual, Henry joins me in the hallway, his shoulder leaning against the wall.

‘So,’ I chuckle, ‘thank you for the lovely cappuccino and I hope you finally figured out what I can do as a thank you.’

‘I thought I told you not to bring it up anymore,’ he says.

‘Oops.’

He laughs. ‘But, I actually thought about it and figured out what you can do.’

‘Enlighten me, mister Cavill.’

‘How about,’ Henry says, ‘you and I go out this Friday? Benji doesn’t have a game, so we both don’t have to get up at an ungodly hour the next day. I can make dinner reservations… If you want  to of course.’

Henry Cavill is asking me out? The most handsome man Luna Meadows has ever is asking me out? I have to stay calm, but my mind is going crazy. Please, whatever you do, just don’t say anything stupid! ‘Of course I want to,’ I say, almost way too eager, but it’s a plus that I said it in a normal order. ‘Oh no, I don’t have anything to wear.’

‘I’m calling bullshit on that one,’ he laughs, ‘but whatever you’d wear, you look beautiful in it.’

‘Stop,’ I chuckle, my cheeks burning up. ‘You know, can you maybe make sure it’s a bit secluded? It’s a small town and people see everything and want to know everything. Also, I don’t want to add anymore fuel to the rumors. Not yet, at least.’

‘Noted,’ he says, ‘something secluded for miss Jung. Any other wishes?’

‘Are you going to wear something formal? If so, should I too?’

‘I was planning on wearing a blouse and some slacks, matching jacket.’

‘You’ve thought about an entire outfit already?’ I smack his arm and add: ‘This is unfair.’

‘I have been thinking about it all day,’ he chuckles.

I can’t hide my surprise. ‘You thought about this all day? Meaning you knew how you wanted me to pay for what you did today when I asked you the first time?’

He rubs his face, before he lets out a nervous laugh. ‘Okay, maybe, but I had to work up the courage to actually ask it.’

‘The tough Henry Cavill was afraid of asking me out? Oh my.’ I use my hand as a fan, before bursting out in laughter. ‘Well, I’ll think about what I wear, but Friday is good.’

‘I’ll pick you up at… Six?’

‘Make that seven,’ I say. ‘Dean is picking up the kids at six and I don’t want to make anything more complicated than it already is.’

‘I totally understand that,’ Henry says. ‘Well, I’ll be there at seven then.’ I see Benji walking up to us and Henry pats him on his shoulder. ‘You did great, bud,’ he says. ‘Can’t wait to see how you’ve improved in the next training.’

‘I’ll watch those clips you told us to watch,’ Benji says, holding out his hand, as an invitation for Henry to participate in their handshake.

After we said our goodbyes to Henry, Benji and I get in the car and when I drove the car off the lot, I ask: ‘Benji, I want your honest opinion about something, okay?’

‘Okay.’

‘If Coach Cavill and I were to go on a date, would you mind?’

‘He asked you out?’ Benji asks, way more excited than I expected him to be. ‘You did say yes, did you?’

This wasn’t the reacting I expected at all. ‘I figure you are okay with it, seeing the enormous grin on your face.’

Benji starts to laugh with me. ‘Of course I’m okay with it, mom. You deserve this and if there is anyone out there in the world that I think is even remotely good enough for you, it’s coach Cavill.’

I actually did the parenting thing really well, I think to myself. ‘So, you really don’t mind?’

‘I don’t, mom, I’m really happy for you.’ Benji places his head on my shoulder as we wait for the traffic light to turn green. ‘You deserve this.’

‘Thank you, sweetheart.’

When we’re back home, I usher Benji to come with me, as we barge into Eve’s house. I see that both Isabella and Yara are still awake and they look busted, as they should, because they shouldn’t be up right now.

‘I can explain,’ Eve begins to defend her choice of leaving these two up, but I don’t give her time to actually explain.

‘I’m going on a date Friday night with the one and only Henry Cavill,’ I say.

‘Shut up,’ Eve says. ‘Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you!’

‘Mom, are you for real?’ Isabella says, running up to me to jump in my arms. I nearly tumble back, but Benji places a hand on my back to give me some support. ‘Can we look for an outfit now? Please?’

‘Not now, because you have to go to bed in ten minutes, but you can definitely help me out,’ I laugh. ‘I think you don’t mind that I’m going on a date?’

‘No, mom, I love it,’ Isabella says. ‘It’s only fair. Now dad has a new girlfriend and you have a boyfriend.’

The girl has a point. ‘Let’s just wait for that date, okay?’

[fernando-jpg]

okay since you’re taking requests, could you do something daryl x reader where daryl and the reader hate each other but get into an only one bed situation on a run together?? only if you want of course.

I've finally finished it-

Here ya go luv

Winter was a hard season to survive in. Everything was cold and dead. Not a lot of people survived the first winter that came after the world ended. It was harder to get supplies and transport them back into camp. It was harder to get water - it froze in the pipes, lakes and rivers. But there were some pros. Some walkers froze in the sheet of ice, which made it easier to decapitate them and they were slower. But you weren't faster than before. 

During the run, you and Daryl hadn't met a lot of them and you were thankful for that. You were exhausted from having to make your way through layers of snow. Your whole body seemed to shiver from time to time as wind hit you. 

"It sucks." 

As soon as you let out another groan, Daryl's eyes wandered over his shoulder, at you, with visible annoyance written all over his face. 

"Stop complinin'. It ain't helpin'." Daryl huffed.

You rolled your eyes at him, fighting the urge to shoot something back at him. You looked at him, your eyes settling at his crossbow which he carried on his back. You didn't want to fight with him now but god, you wanted to do so. 

Daryl Dixon was one of not so many people that were pissing you off just by the way he was looking at you. You two never were on good terms. When you first met him at the quarry, he was an arrogant son of a bitch, who liked to start fights with anyone who was near him. You guessed, that he was a prick due to his brother's influence on him who was even worse than him. Merle was the top one guy who you hated, but his baby brother was in the second place. 

When the group had arrived at the prison, Rick had decided that you and Daryl were going to be paired for runs. You requested to be paired with perhaps Carol or even Carl but he ignored you. He knew that you and Dixon are not really getting along but Grimes only stated that "maybe runs will bring you two closer". Grimes hated when you and Daryl fought about smallest things and he would do anything just for you two to get along. But it was clearly not happening. 

"The sun is setting down." 

"I know that." he huffed again. 

"How far is the cabin then?" you asked. 

"Uhh.." he trailed off, looking at the map in his hands. "We should've seen 't 'bout by now." 

"What?" you stopped in your tracks, snow crunching under your boots. "So we missed it?" 

"Dunno." 

"Jesus--" you scoffed. Moving forward, you walked up to him. "Give me that map. Clearly you can't read it properly." 

Daryl was about to say something but you snatched the map away from his hands, almost ripping it in half. You grabbed your flashlight and shined the light at it since the daylight was slowly dying and it was harder and harder to see. You followed the road with your gloved finger and then looked around yourself for any signs. Everything seemed right. The crossroad was before your eyes not far away and it was shown on the map. The cabin should've been on your right, hidden slightly behind the trees. 

You folded the map, hiding it in the pocket of your coat before making your way away from the road and into the woods. You had to find that damn cabin. Otherwise you wouldn't survive the night here as you saw that storm was approaching. 

"Hey! Where yer goin'?" Daryl called out after you and you've heard his footsteps behind you, close by. 

"To find the cabin you've lost." you mumbled out, pulling out your machete just in case something appeared in front of you.

Not a moment later you found your destination. Completely ruined. 

A huge tree had fallen over the roof of the cabin, destroying it. You couldn't even make out the previous state of the small house. Now it was just a bunch of wooden pieces laying around, some covered in snow. 

You sighed, running your hands down your face to calm down. You had to quickly figure out something to not die due to hipotermia. 

After hiding your weapon, you grabbed the map again and looked through it again, finding only one other way to survive. 

"We gotta move back to the first crossroad and then move West." you informed Daryl, brushing past him to get back to the road. 

"Yeah and then what?" he asked. "There are no more cabins around 'ere." 

"On my last run, I found a small cottage about an hour away from here. It's not shown on the map but it marked it with an x. I wanted to stay the night there but found it overrun with walkers. Someone gathered a bunch of them there and since then they're stuck in there. We'll deal with them and then I'll finally be able to sleep for a few hours."

"Will we actually be able to finish them all off?" 

"We'll have to." 

During the one hour walk to the cottage, none of you two said anything to each other. You didn't mind it all. Anyway the talk will only lead to another fight. And you were already upset enough. 

When you arrived at the cottage, as you predicted it was flooded with walkers. You made a deal with Daryl, that you'll let the walkers in pairs so he could deal with them, then switch. It was a hard job but it had to be done if you wanted to rest. 

An bit later, there were only a few walkers left inside but damn, you were tired. You barely stood on your legs. All that doors pushing, blocking and decapitating walkers was really exhausting. 

"How many left more?" Daryl called out to you. 

"I, uh, about six I think." you breathed out. 

You opened the doors for them to walk out once more, letting out two again. You sighed when they started to push at the doors again and with all the strength you've had, started to close the doors back. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. All of the walkers were out now as you were almost knocked out by the slam of the doors. You fell back, onto the snow, holding your forehead in pain. 

You've heard Daryl call out to you and when you saw what he was dealing with, you immediately ran to help him. Eight walkers were after him. 

You ran up to one and stabbed him on the back of the head. The rotted body fell down onto the ground with a thud, catching attention of 3 more. You kicked the closes one in the knee, breaking his leg, making him fall down which made it easier to finish them off. Quickly you dealt with other two, without missing a beat. Adrenaline kicked in. But suddenly you fell down and walker landed right on top of you. 

You tried to keep calm as you were blocking his gnashing teeth away from your face but it wasn't enough. You've lost your knife and almost a will to fight this monster. 

"Daryl!" 

You've sounded defeated, voice weak and full of fear. Yeah, you were scared shit less. It wasn't like this haven't happen before. But now you were so tired you didn't know how much longer you would hold him back. 

But finally Daryl approached you, pulling the walker off of you, before finishing him on the ground. 

You were about to say something, anything to him when you've felt  hot liquid streaming down your face. You wanted to quickly wipe it off, wanting to see what it is when, Daryl grabbed your wrist. 

"Stop, yer gonna infect it." he said. "It's no walkers blood." 

Finally, at the cottage, you were able to clean yourself off and put a bandage on your head. You've had a cut coming right over your eye. It wasn't deep, no stitches were needed. Not like you two had some. 

While you were cleaning off, Dixon made fire in the fireplace when he broke some furniture in the house. It got warmer and you were thankful the stack of wood was enough for you two to survive the night. He even blocked the doors and windows, making sure no-one would break in. No man nor walker. 

"There's only one bed." Daryl informed you as soon as you stepped into the room. "Imma sleep on t' floor." 

"Don't be ridiculous Dixon." you scoffed. "We can share it. I'll have my side and you'll have yours. I'm not gonna even touch you." 

"..Fine." 

You quickly grabbed your extra blanket and laid down. Walking around the house made you quite dizzy. You turned on your right side, facing away from him, just wanting to go to sleep. 

Eventually he laid down next to you, but you were wrong. Your backs were certainly touching. You didn't mind it actually. 

You've heard him shuffle around from time to time. He was either moving his leg or his arm on his whole body at once.

"Jesus christ, continue this and you'll seriously end up on the floor." you growled almost, annoyed at his actions. 

"...'m sorry." 

You were actually surprised at his words. He never said these words to you before. You now have heard, how soft his voice can be instead of his gruffy usual one. 

"No..I'm sorry." you sighed, rubbing your eyes. "I'm sorry I let these walkers out. They almost got you." 

"'s fine. They didn't eat me." 

"They could've got me though. Almost did. If you weren't there to save me.." You've looked over your shoulder, seeing Daryl gaze at you intensely. "I was an ass to you. Even after you saved me. I feel stupid." 

"Stop it." he mumbled out, looking away from you. "It's nothin'." 

You glanced at him for a moment before eventually facing away from him again. 

Few moments have passed in silence when you finally found the right words to say. 

"Thank you Daryl..I guess you are a good guy." 

"...Go to sleep. Ya need to rest." 

You briefly glanced back at him but only saw his sleepy face. He looked really peaceful and calm. You let your mind wonder for a moment before you eventually turn around. 

Eventually you let yourself close your eyes and start to fall back to sleep, when you've heard Daryl move around on his side. Before you could turn around and see what he's up to, you've felt his hand gently touch strands of your hair. You tried not to let him know that you're not asleep still but didn't want to ruin your first nice moment between you and Daryl Dixon. 

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[outerbonks]

complicated - jj maybank

Thanks for all the love on my last post, I really appreciate it ♡ let me know what you think of this one and if you think I should make more parts :)

Summary: You're a kook and JJ doesn't like you at all. That's what he wants everyone to believe anyway.

Word count: +2K

Warning (s): swearing, drinking

Masterlist ♡

Music pumped through the boneyard as you danced around with your friends, being a kook, you tried to avoid being on the pogue side of the island as much as possible, but keggers in the boneyard were impossible to pass up.

For the past fifteen minutes you'd been lost in the music, dancing and singing, admittedly buzzed from all of the cheap beer you'd drank throughout the night.

"Y/n! You came!" A voice called from behind you and you whipped around to see your friend Kie smiling brightly at you.

Giving her a big hug and returning her smile you nodded, "Yeah, great party!"

Kie was a sweetheart, you'd met her in school after her falling out with Sarah Cameron in the ninth grade, she was a breath of fresh air compared to some of the other snobs that attended the private high school and you both got along like a house on fire.

There was one issue with hanging out with her outside of school though. That issue was that her friends hated you- well, not all of them, only one of them actually, but he really really really didn't like you.

JJ Maybank has been a dick to you ever since he first met you. You don't remember doing anything to have pissed the hotheaded boy off but you never let his hostility fly.

Whenever he had something to quip at you, you had something just as snarky to throw back in his face. He didn't know anything about you yet felt the need to run his mouth about you as if he knew all of your deepest darkest secrets, when in reality the boy probably didn't even know your middle name.

At the beginning of your little rivalry with JJ, you had tried to be the bigger person and show him that you weren't like the other kooks. Of course he was having none of it.

So when Kie grabbed your hand and exclaimed, "Come sit with me and my friends!" Your stomach dropped and even in your tipsy state you knew that it wasn't a good idea.

"I dunno, Kie. I don't wanna fight with anyone tonight…" You trailed off with a pout, you'd had a shitty week at work and tonight was supposed to allow you to unwind and not be stressed out by a boy who hated you for reasons you didn't even know.

"Look, I'll handle JJ if he says anything okay? Just please come on, John B said he missed you." Kie pleaded with you, a triumphant 'yes' exiting her mouth when you sighed in defeat and began walking with her in the direction of her friends.

When you got to the boys who were all sat on logs, John B perked up, the tall boy immediately standing up to greet you with a hug.

"I haven't seen you in forever! Why haven't you been hanging out?" John B asked you with a concerned face, holding you at arms length.

"We've been super swamped at work, lots of new people coming in for the summer so I picked up a few extra shifts to help out." You explained to him but turned your face in the direction where the scoff had just come from.

"As if you need any more money than you already get from mommy and daddy." JJ grumbled sarcastically, looking to get a rise out of you.

You meant what you said to Kie earlier about not wanting to get in a fight, you were too tired.

"It's volunteer work, actually." You muttered bitterly before taking a seat between Kie and John B.

Most of your weekends and now weekdays since school ended for summer were spent volunteering at the old folks home on figure eight. It wasn't too stressful, you get paired up with an old person and you keep them company for the day, play board games and do things for them. It doesn't sound so bad, is exactly what you were thinking when you applied for it, but the hours were long and the nurses that worked there were assholes.

You'd dealt with enough snarky douche bags this week, you didn't want to have to deal with the blond boy too. You'd be using energy you just didn't have.

Luckily the conversation moved on quickly and you were all laughing at something Pope said.

"Do you want another beer?" John B asked you, standing up.

"No thanks. I think I've had enough." You giggled up at him and he nodded his head in agreement with a smile before heading to the keg.

Once he left, JJ wasted no time in stealing his seat and plopping down beside you.

You let out an irritated sigh but didn't say anything, you knew what was about to happen.

"Want a hit?" He asked, showing you the joint he'd rolled. You couldn't help but look at him in confusion, him offering you anything other than a snide remark was uncharacteristic.

"I guess." You responded unsurely, only to get a click of his tongue in return, "Damn sucks you don't have a joint then."

In all fairness you should've seen it coming. Rolling your eyes you turned your face away from him as he lit up the weed.

While you were ignoring JJ and enjoying a conversation with Pope and Kie you were interrupted by a Touron who tapped you on the shoulder.

"Hey." You couldn't lie, the boy standing in front of you with a shy smile on his face was gorgeous.

You smiled brightly, looking up at him from your spot, "Hi there."

JJ watched with narrow eyes as the guy rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "I was wondering if maybe you'd want to dance with me for a bit?"

Before you could even respond, JJ threw an arm around your shoulder casually and looked at the poor boy dead in the eyes, "No. She doesn't."

It was your turn to narrow your eyes as the boy scurried away.

"What the fuck?" You seethed at JJ, knocking his hand off your shoulder and turning to face him.

The boy in question shrugged his shoulders innocently, "Didn't think you wanted to dance."

"How the hell would you know what I want? You don't even know me." The words were laced in venom and it was clear that you'd finally had enough, not allowing the blue eyed boy to get a word in as you exploded.

"I get it, ok? You hate me and that's fine. But don't for a second pretend to know what I'm about because you don't know shit about me." Your jaw was clenched and you delivered your words through gritted teeth, poking his chest roughly as you spoke.

JJ scoffed out a laugh, grabbing your wrist to stop your relentless poking, "I know exactly what you're about, princess."

Looking at him with pursed lips you snatched your wrist from his grasp and crossed your arms over chest, "Tell me." The demand came out stone cold and JJ's face was covered in confusion, "What?"

"Tell me what I'm about." The boy stared at you in bewilderment before cocking his head to the side and nodding, "Alright."

JJ cleared his throat before he started rattling off reasons as to why he hated you, "You're just like every other kook on this island, a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to you."

Shaking your head at his answer you leaned closer to him with a glare that made a chill run up his spine.

"No no no. We all know what a kook is JJ, no I want you to tell me what I'm about. C'mon, what's my biggest fear?" You pushed at his chest again, enjoying how he swallowed thickly and stayed quiet.

"What age was I when it all started going wrong? Why can't I wear dresses to parties? Huh?" The boy kept quiet, he didn't have an answer to any of your questions and the point you were making started to dawn on him.

"Come on! Since you know everything about what I'm about you must know the answers." 

JJ let out an aggravated huff and threw his hands up in defeat, "Well I don't, alright?" He shouted defensively.

Giving him a fake smile and nodding you stood up, towering over him now.

"Right. Because you don't fucking know me. So stop acting like you do when you've never even bothered to get to know me." You spat at him before storming away.

Kie and Pope watched with dissatisfied looks on their faces, "Man, you suck do you know that?" Kie sighed out as she watched you get smaller and smaller.

"Also you do know Y/n is like the sweetest person on the planet right?" John B chimed in, returning from the keg.

"Why do you hate her?" Pope asked, tilting his head in confusion, JJ not liking you had just been something they all accepted and never questioned.

JJ shrugged, chugging his drink and tossing the cup to the side, "She's a kook." 

Kie scoffed this time, "Yeah and? Everyone else loves her. I don't get why you always have to make her feel bad, she tried really hard to get along with you." 

JJ's feeling towards you were complicated, the rudeness between the two of you had admittedly started off as just banter and when he realized he'd been enjoying the back and forth a little too much he needed to regain his distance. No way in hell could he fall for a kook princess, even if you were one of the nicest people he'd ever met.

He's never felt bad about the remarks he threw you or arguments he caused because you always gave as good as you got. It pissed him off because it only made him admire you more. He didn't notice it was taking a lasting effect on you until your little outburst.

To top things off, Kie, Pope and John B were always gushing about how much fun you were to hang out with and how they wanted to hang out with you more often, truth be told he'd love to see you hanging around more but his pride just would not allow him to get close to you.

"Look, if it would make you all chill out I will go and I will propose a truce so you can all go back to macking on Y/n in peace." The boy offered and was met with a chorus of thank yous from his friends.

He had to jog up the beach until he eventually found you sitting on the sand, close to the shore line with a bottle of water, attempting to sober up before you went home.

"Hey, princess." JJ said, voice flat as he sat down beside you on the cold sand.

You glanced at him briefly and sighed, "I'm not up for a round two."

The boy shook his head, staring out at the ocean thoughtfully, "That's not why I'm here."

Furrowing your brows you turned your face toward his, "Then why are you here?"

He ran his fingers through his hair then met your eyes, "I'm sorry that I'm an asshole."

He never usually apologized, but then again, you never usually snapped either so you were both full of surprises tonight.

"I'm not sorry for snapping at you. You deserved it." You replied softly, returning your gaze to the water in front of you.

JJ let out an airy laugh, nodding in agreement. 

"I don't hate you by the way." He confessed quietly.

"Then why are you so mean all the time?" You asked in return.

Instead of answering your question he posed a new one to you, "Do you wanna know what I'm about?"

You nodded, determined to get to the bottom of the boy beside you.

"I'm about keeping people at a distance. I do that by being an asshole. I'm about caring too much about my reputation to let myself be nice to you." To let myself fall for you. He wanted to say, but he couldn't put all of his cards on the table like that.

Nodding in understanding you let out a weak, "Pogues vs kooks… right." You knew for a fact that if you were considered one of the pogues JJ would've never had an issue with you.

"Right." The boy confirmed with yet another nod of his head. 

A silence settled over you both before JJ stood up, dusting himself off, "Come hang out with us this weekend. The others want you to be there."

Giving him a weak smile and a nod you watched as he walked away. That boy would never fail to confuse you.

You just hoped that now that he told you he didn't hate you, that maybe he'd start acting like it.

Part 2

[hard-boiled-criminal]

Planetary Magick: 1

(Twisted Wonderland x Earthling! Witch! Reader)

This is crossposted on my ao3 and quotev. I have a chapter on some general information you should know about this fic before going into it, so please go and look at it first. I’ll have it linked in the masterlist. There is some essential information there, so I’ll also have a shortened version of the general information linked in the masterlist. 

I haven’t quite decided all the love interests yet, so please comment who you want to be included. But don’t comment until after you’ve read the essential information post. I’ll know if you haven’t when you comment. I started this fic with my two favorite boys in mind, so they’ll probably end up getting more attention at the beginning.

Without further ado, here we gooooooooooo

_____________________________________________

“Alrighty, here we go,” you mumbled to yourself as you got yourself settled and comfortable, then set a twenty-minute timer on your phone for your meditation session.

You breathed in deeply for four counts, held your breath for four more counts, then exhaled for four counts, closing your eyes during the exhale. You scanned your body, seeing how every part of you felt and releasing any tension you discovered. You focused on your breath and how it moves the body, allowing you to clear your mind. Any wandering thoughts that passed through your head you let go, like seeing a leaf floating down a river: you notice it, then let it go.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Inhale…hold…exhale…

In…hale…out…

.                            .                            .

             You let out a low, gravelly hum as you began to awake, blinking. Or you think you’re blinking, at least. It was the same level of dark when your eyes were open as when they were closed.

             ‘When did it get so dark? Last I remember, it was mid-afternoon… What was I doing again?’ You hummed again, but in a way that you didn’t use your vocal cords. It was more of a throaty exhale. ‘Oh, that’s right! I was medita…ting…fuck, I fell asleep while meditating, didn’t I? That’s one of the big thing’s you’re not supposed to do, (y/n).’

             Seeing as you probably wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep now, you went to sit up from your laying position, just to hit your forehead against solid wood.

             “Ah fuck,” you quietly exclaimed in both surprise and mild pain.

             You raised your arms to figure out what you hit your head against, but they also hit wood. Starting to panic a bit, you rapidly felt out the area all around you: it’s all wood. You were in a box. You desperately tried pushing on all of the sides, one at a time, hoping that you weren’t sealed inside. Nothing budged. Your breaths began to speed up, becoming shallower.

             ‘Why am I in a box? How did I get here? Oh fuck, have I been kidnapped?! Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ Various expletives cycled their way through your thoughts as a result of the panic.

             You yelped when the box suddenly began to tilt forward, causing your body to slide down the box that you now realized was quite a bit longer than you were tall. Your feet stopped your sliding when they hit the new bottom of the box, letting you stand upright. You didn’t know what this meant. Why would someone stand your box up? What was happening? You heard a voice speaking from outside the box, but your panic prevented you from processing their words.

             You quickly shifted your priorities when the box started to heat up like a wooden oven, beginning to fill up with smoke. You didn’t have time to scream. You had to get out of there. With renewed vigor, you rammed your shoulder into the wooden panel in front of you. You felt it budge! It didn’t open, but it budged. You didn’t wait to ram your shoulder into it again. This time, the wood gave in to your force easily, popping off of the box and onto the floor. Maybe it gave way a bit too easily, as your momentum sent you careening to the hard floor, your shoulder taking the brunt of the impact. You heard a loud scream that you knew wasn’t yours, you simply didn’t have the breath to scream, as your momentum didn’t stop, making you somersault multiple times towards the center of the room. Well, somersaulting is a bit of a generous term; it was really more of a chaotic rolling, limbs flailing about as the world blurred between right-side-up and upside-down.

             Something you always suspected, but now knew for sure, was that unexpected somersaults are very painful on the neck, not to mention your head that slammed into the hard floor each roll. You didn’t know where the cracks you heard came from, but you doubt it could be anything but your body. You just hope those sounds were the good kind, like the cracking-your-knuckles cracks and not the snapping-your-bones-in-twain cracks.

             When you finally rolled to a stop, you laid limply on your side, unmoving. You painfully gaped for breath, trying to fill your lungs with the sweet oxygen you were barred from when rolling. Your vision blurred and swam; unable to make out anything or focus on anything except colors, you closed your eyes from the sight lest you get a headache.

             Still disoriented and generally out-of-sorts after you caught your breath, you struggled to roll onto your knees, resting your forehead on the cool floor in hopes to ease the overwhelming dizziness that you could practically feel in every bone of your body.

             “Why are you up?!” You heard strange voice yell out, coming from where your wooden prison sat.

             You turn your head ever so slightly so you could semi-face where the voice came from. You squinted, trying to focus your gaze, but everything remained blurry. You could see bright cerulean flames dancing around what you think was your box, presumably the same flames that smoked you out. And by the floor was an animated gray blob, slowly growing larger. Or was it just getting closer? You couldn’t tell, your attention snapping back to your throbbing head as your vision span once more.

             You groaned as you closed your eyes and turned your head back to where it was, the cold, probably stone, floor felt nice. It helped soothe your steadily worsening headache a bit, but any relief was better than none. You weren’t in a rush to move from your spot, and since the floor was stone, you wouldn’t have to worry about the fire spreading.

             “If you’re just gonna sit around, then hurry and gimme those clothes!” That strange voice that reminded you of Team Rocket’s Meowth yelled again, though this time is was much closer. “Otherwise—”

             You cut them off with a louder groan than before and held up an index finger in their direction to both shush them and to say, ‘give me a minute.’ “Please, just, give me a sec. I’m dizzy and might have a concussion—no, probably have a concussion. So please, don’t shout.”

             “Hah? Why should I care about what some dumb human has to say? Now gimme those clothes unless you want me to roast ya!”

             You grunt as you force yourself to stand, the dizziness mostly subsiding. You looked over to see if you could make out the Meowth-sounding figure now, but to no avail; your vision was still blurry and refused to focus. All you could see was that gray blob, but now you could make out a patch of white and two patches of that same cerulean blue on the figure.

             “I’m sorry, the fuck did you just say? You want me to give you my clothes? Fat chance, ya little pervert.”

             They made a disgruntled sound and yelled again, which did not help your headache at all, “I’m not a pervert, stupid human! Just shut up and hand over that uniform!”

             “I’ll pass,” you quickly glanced around the room, looking for an exit. There was a large area of dark brown embedded in the wall to your right, no doubt being a set of double doors; you now had your escape route. You hope you were staring into the eyes of that bleary gray figure. “…yeet.” And you bolted towards the doors.

“Wha—hey! Get back here stupid human!” You heard them shout after you.

Running felt stranger than normal, like there was more drag, like you were dragging something with your arms. You looked down and finally paid mind to your clothes: they were definitely not yours. You were wearing something like a coat—or a cloak? —with heavy bell-sleeves, the source of the extra weight. You now also noticed that there was a hood pulled over your head as well. It was a miracle it stayed on after your rough tumble.

‘Yeah nope, fuck that. I’m not ready to be sacrificed by some fancy cloak cult,’ with that thought fueling your determination, you stayed true to your ‘yeet’ and rammed your other shoulder into one of the doors, not wanting to waste time on opening it like a civilized person. Besides, that would probably be quite difficult as it was still hard to see, and your hand-eye coordination was probably going to be shit because of your probable concussion.

Luckily, the doors were unlocked, the one you charged at bursting open upon impact with little resistance. You didn’t dare slow down, sprinting down the outdoor hallway the doors led to. And as you noticed a group of people approaching, you couldn’t slow down. You danced through the gaps between them, the sudden twisting bringing back the dizziness. Your poor coordination made sure that you bumped into a few elbows on your way through, adding a couple more bruises to the list. You didn’t bother to spare them a glance or even acknowledge them. Your body was screaming at you to stop, your frantic running only serving to further agitate your too-fresh wounds, sending streaks of stinging pain through your body.

It was no use though. Fatigue finally won you over, and you practically collapsed onto the floor of what was a library of sorts. Or maybe an archive? Even if you couldn’t make out any individual books, you could easily tell that the walls were lined with filled bookshelves. You panted heavily as you laid on your back, too exhausted to care about lying on the floor. Your peace could only last for so long, though.

“Did you really think you’d get away from my nose? Dumb human!”

You grumble in fatigue-induced anger, using a chair to help stand yourself back up. You’ve had enough of this pervert’s shit. You’re hurt and scared and tired and confused, and all you want to do right now is sleep. You quickly hoist up the chair, resting the side of the chair’s back on your shoulder, brandishing the chair as a weapon as your hands grasped the seat. You were just about ready to use the chair as a battering ram on this rat of unusual size.

“If you don’t wanna get roasted, better hand over—Buwah!?” Out of no where a whip stuck the strange creature, staying wrapped around it. “Ow! What’s with this cord?”

“This is no mere cord. It is a lash of love!” Their masculine voice sounded strange, as if they were forced to talk around a physical lump stuck in their throat.

Their voice was rounded, but in an odder way than usual. It was as if each word was its own separate circle: only one circle per word with the circles never quite connecting. It was as if they composed their sentences like a piece of music but added a breath mark between each and every note. You didn’t know how else to describe it. His words were round but ended strong and abruptly, as opposed to the gentle waves and curves you’d expect from a rounded voice.

You didn’t notice him until he stepped closer. His ensemble of clothes was mostly black, and the colors that weren’t black were at least dark. More than half of his face appeared to be covered with a black mask, so could you really blame yourself for not being able to make him out in this dark library?

You slowly lowered the chair back to ground as you tried to process that he called it a ‘lash of love.’

“Ah, found you at last. Are you one of the new students?”

“Uh, I’m sorry—”

“Yes, you should be! You shouldn’t do things like leaving the Gate on your own!” He cut you off and kept talking, not giving you a chance to speak, let alone defend yourself because you didn’t know what the fuck was going on. “Not only that, you have yet to tame your familiar, which has broken a number of school rules.

“Let me go! I’m not their freakin’ familiar!” The creature took the words right out of your mouth while squirming in the man’s grasp.

“Sure, sure. The rebellious ones always say things like that,” he immediately dismissed the thing’s outburst. “Just quiet down for a moment.” You couldn’t quite see what he did, but the gray beast could only make muffled noises. You think the thing was gagged, but you don’t know by what. “My goodness,” he directed his attention to you again. “It’s unprecedented for a new student to leave the Gate on their own. Ugh… How impatient can you be?” He sounded very offended by your actions, still not giving you the chance to explain that you were busy trying not to die. “The entrance ceremony is already well under way. Come along now. Let’s head to the Hall of Mirrors,” he turned on his heel, quickly walking away.

You had three options: 1) Follow him to whatever the Hall of Mirrors was. Maybe it’s like a hall full of those body-warping mirrors they have at carnivals? 2)Stay behind and wait for something else to come try to kill you. 3) Run away and hope you don’t run into something that wants to kill you.

You quickly jogged to catch up to him. “I—uh, where are we going?”

“As I said, the Hall of Mirrors. It’s the room you woke up in with all of the doors.”

‘Doors? Is he talking about the sealed box I was in?’

“All students who wish to attend this academy must pass through one of those doors to arrive here. Normally, students wake up only after the door is opened with a special key, but…” he glanced over to you, silently expecting an answer.

You pointed at the Meowth-voiced creature. “He kinda smoked me out.”

“So, in the end, the culprit appears to be this familiar. If you’re going to bring it with you, you have to take responsibility and properly take care of it.”

“Um, sir? That’s not—”

“Oh my!” He cut you off once more. “Now isn’t the time to be long winded. The entrance ceremony will soon come to a close. Let’s get a move on.”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but I have no idea what’s going on,” it came out form your mouth quietly, barely above a whisper.

“What’s this? Are you still dazed? It appears the teleportation magic has left you disoriented…”

‘…teleportation…magic? Was I—Was I kidnapped by a wizard LARP group?’

“Well, it is fine. It happens often enough. I shall give you an explanation as we make our way there. For I am gracious.”

‘Gracious my ass; your favorite thing is to assume things about me, and you know what they say about assume: it makes an ass out of u and me.’

He cleared his throat as we stepped into the courtyard I had previously ran past. “This is ‘Night Raven College.’ Those magicians blessed with a unique aptitude for magic gather from all over the world, here at the most prestigious magical academy in Twisted Wonderland.”

‘Oh shit, they’re a Harry Potter LARP group. I don’t think Harry would condone kidnapping someone though…’

“And I’m the principal, appointed to take care of this academy by the board chairman, Dire Crowley.”

‘Crowley like the demon from Good Omens? Or like that guy who wrote a book on demons? Or maybe that one guy from Yu-Gi-Oh…’

“…” You patiently waited for him to say, “You’re a wizard, Harry,” but he never did. ‘I can’t believe I have to deliver this line without the lead up. “A what?”

He ignored you to continue with his ‘gracious’ monologue, “Only those magicians seen as worthy by the Dark Mirror can attend this school. Chosen ones use the Gate and are summoned here from around the world. An Ebony Carriage carrying a Gate should have gone to meet you as well.”

“A carriage? You mean one with a horse?”

He gasped, offended, for some reason, “Of course it was drawn by a horse! Our school would never be so uncouth as to have it drawn by anything else!”

“Well, I would have remembered if there was a horse. Horses are the embodiment of equal opportunity fear*. You don’t forget running into a creature like that.” You shivered at the thought of the horse-like fae you’ve heard about in legends. Like the one that can apparently kill gods.

“It seems you are more dazed than I first thought. Well, no matter! I shall continue with my explanation, for I truly am so gracious. The Ebony Carriage goes to welcome new students chosen by the Dark Mirror. They are special carriages that carry the doors to the academy. The market decided long ago that carriages are used to welcome people on special days.”

“The market? Are you telling me stocks have something to do with this?” You had to actively try not to say ‘stonks’ instead of ‘stocks.’

He ignored you again, instead speeding up his walking as the gray creature started squirming and making muffled sounds again. “Come. Let’s go to the entrance ceremony.”

With the both of you now speed walking, it didn’t take long for the three of you, counting the creature, to make it back to the doors you had originally burst out of. Crowley, not being one to wait for anything, quickly barged in. “Not at all!” he exclaimed, probably responding to something you didn’t catch.

“Ah, he’s here,” you heard someone say from inside the room.

‘…You’ve gotta be buttfucking me,’ was your first thought as you peeked out from behind Crowley to see the room filled to the brim with people wearing the same cloak as you.

“I cannot believe you all. We were missing one new student, so I went to find them,” he stepped to the side to present you, making your anxiety spike as all the eyes in the room turned to you. “You are the only one yet to be assigned a dormitory,” he now directed his words to you. “I shall watch over the raccoon, step in front of the Dark Mirror.”

You were never more grateful than now to have the large hood obscuring your face, preventing anybody from fully seeing it. You weren’t planning on going anywhere before you got kidnapped, so you didn’t bother fixing up your appearance at all. You probably looked like a mess. If you fell asleep during meditation, that must’ve meant that you were extremely exhausted; you wouldn’t be surprised if your eyes looked like they better suited a meth-addict grim reaper. Regarding what type of death your eyes belonged to, until you got a good look in the mirror, it was up for debate between two options: if your eyebags were dark enough to make your eyes look like they were sunken into your skull, yet at the same time pop-eyed from the contrast of white and red to dark bags, or if your eyes and eyebags were swollen to all hell, giving you a upper pop-eyed look, as if somebody squeezed you and your eyes tried to pop out of your head, but their escape was thwarted by your skin, just barely strong enough to hold them back. Your face probably looked a bit sallow and nothing but bone; today had been a taxing endeavor, both physically and emotionally. You’d kill for a nap—or any sleep—right about now.

You nervously walked up to the floating mirror, your movements stiff and tense, like a frightened deer.

You were ready to come face to face with your deathly reflection, but instead of your face, there was a mask instead. It looked like a floating porcelain mask that had its own free will, making subtle changes in facial expression and everything. It had a black lacy design in the shape of a masquerade mask around its eyes. ‘Probably has an edgy personality too,’ you added as an afterthought when you noticed the dancing green flames in the background. You couldn’t help but feel that it looked vaguely familiar…

“State thy name.” It spoke with a finality in its tone.

‘So, it talks too, huh? Oh, it’s probably one of those facial motion capture programs. Look at this man; it feels like he’s trying to match the same energy that the Wizard of Oz had. Nobody can live up to that legend of a man.’

“(y/n) (l/n).”

You subtly glanced around the room with your eyes, not moving your head, to try and see if there was a ‘man behind the curtain’ somewhere. You didn’t even see a curtain. Just a bunch of coffins and cloaked people.

‘I’m sorry, are those coffins? I can see better than before but not well enough to make out the finer details, but I can tell those look coffin shaped. Like the kind you would see in Scooby-Doo. Does that mean Crowley said I was transported here in a coffin?! What the fuck, man.’

“The shape of thy soul is…” the mask paused for dramatic effect… okay, for a lot of dramatic effect because this was a long pause. “I do not know.”

‘…what was the point in the dramatic pause, then?’

“Come again?” Crowley sounded like he was about to go into shock.

“I sense not a spark of magic from this one… The color, the shape, all are nothing,” the mask roasted you. “Therefore, they are suited for no dormitory.”

‘Rude but I guess that is kind of how it works? After all, magick is just convincing reality and the world around you to bend to your whims by performing certain actions. So, it’s like being a bender from avatar. But instead of the elements, its reality, sort of. Bending the world’s natural magick… But still, fuck you. I may just be a beginner, but I’m still a witch…wait, unless it’s talking about ‘sleight of hand’ magic. Is this like a Hogwarts school or like a Houdini school?’’

People started murmuring in the audience you now had, staring at you, judging you. You could feel a lump in your throat start to form, a telltale sign of the beginning of an anxiety attack.

“An Ebony Carriage would absolutely never go to meet someone who can’t use magic!” Crowley sounded stunned and frustrated. “In one hundred years, there has not once been a mistake in student selection. So why in the world…” Since Crowley was so wrapped up in what was going on, he failed to notice that his grasp on the creature had loosened.

“Pah!” The gray creature, which you think is a cat since you can see better now, exclaimed as he freed himself. “Then I’ll take their place!”

“Stay right there! Raccoon!” Crowley’s attention was now directed on the freed rabid cat.

“Unlike that dumb human, I can use magic! Let me in the school instead! If you need proof, I’ll show you right now!” The little cat exclaimed

‘Wait, what does he mean by proof? If he’s about to do what I think he’s about to do… then shit.’

“Everyone, get down!” The same voice you heard when Crowley and you entered spoke.

‘Don’t have to tell me twice,’  you lowered yourself to the ground and laid on your stomach; the back of your head was still throbbing, so you didn’t want to chance irritating it more by lying on your back. You crossed your arms in front of your face on the ground so you could comfortably rest your head in the crook of your elbow. Laying like this made your hood fall further over you face, obstructing the top half of the room from your view. The bottom half was all you needed to see though, as the cat spewed blue flames around the room—the same flames that made you panic inside the coffin.

“Waaaah! Hottttt! My butt’s on fire!” You heard an animated voice yell.

“At this rate, the school will be a sea of fire!” You heard Headmaster Crowley shouted. “Somebody, catch that raccoon!”

You heard some of the people in the room bicker about who should go after him, not because of the fear of being burned, but because they were being lazy and saw it as a hassle. ‘Well, I’ve got a bone to pick with him anyway,’ you sighed and stood up, casually walking over to the cat. There was fire everywhere, but you couldn’t find the energy to care. You were tired and hurt and probably concussed, and you had had enough. If your clothes catch fire, you can just stop, drop, and roll. God, you were so done with all this.

So you walked through the hot flames, no doubt getting some burns on your legs from the ordeal, and the slacks you wore that weren’t even yours didn’t burn easily, but the flames still managed to burn several holes through it. The cat didn’t notice you approaching, preoccupied with yelling at the bickering students. Luckily, the cat made sure there were no fires surrounding them, so you got a break from the heat. You took a moment to pat out the fires on your pants and the bottom of your cloak using the ridiculously large sleeves of your cloak. Satisfied that you weren’t burning anymore, you reached for the cat and lifted them up by hooking your hands in its armpits. They screeched at the unexpected flight lesson and immediately began to squirm.

“Alright, I think you’ve done enough. I’m sick of your shit, so cut it out before I choke you ‘til you pass out,” you blandly said to the cat since you were, as you put it, sick of their shit.

“Unhand me you stupid human!” They demanded as they wriggled in your grasp. You held them tighter. You could feel the others staring at you, completely silent for a few seconds before someone broke the quiet.

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!” That familiar voice of the stranger shouted, a heart-shaped collar suddenly appearing around the cat’s neck.

“Nygah! The heck is this!?” The cat shrieked and started tugging at the collar.

“Laws of the Queen of Hearts Number 23: "One shall never bring a cat into a festival," you could now see that the familiar voice belonged to a student with red hair, red as in bright ruby red. “You being a cat means you've broken the rule. I shall have you leave at once.”

“I'm not a cat!!” The cat denied the truth. “I'll burn this collar right up and… E—eh? I can't use my fire!”

“Hmph! You won't be using any magic until I remove the collar. Just like an ordinary cat,” the redhead explained.

“Wh-what?! I'm not some pet!” He’s a strong independent cat who don’t need no man.

“Don't worry, I'd never keep a pet like you,” fuck, that redhead can roast. “I'll take it off anyway when you get thrown out.”

“Wow, as wonderful as ever. Any and all magic gets sealed by your Unique Magic, Riddle,” another student spoke, this one had light colored hair.

‘Would you call that shade a pale lavender or periwinkle?’ You questioned his hair color.

He mumbled something inaudible under his breath before speaking up, “No, I wouldn't ever want that cast on me.”

“You must do something about this! It is your familiar!” Crowley shouted at you again.

You sighed, frustrated. “He’s not mine.”

“Properly discip... eh? It's not yours?”

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to tell you this entire time, but it seems I couldn’t get it past that thick skull of yours,” You couldn’t stop some of the irritated sass from leaking out.

“Y-you did?” Crowley looked rightfully embarrassed as he cleared his throat. “Anyway, let's get it out of the school at any rate. We won't turn you into a stew. For I am gracious. Someone help, please.” Another student took the cat from your arms and carried him towards the door.

“Gyaaaa! Let me go!” The cat protested, desperation thick in their tone. “I'm going to, going to… Become the greatest magician!” Those were his final words as he was thrown out of the room.

“We had a bit of trouble along the way, but this brings the entrance ceremony to a close,” Crowley said with a pleased tone of finality. “Dormitory Heads, please show the new students back to the dormitories.”

This didn’t really concern you anymore, what with being rejected by a mirror of all things. So, you stood there, starting to space out.

‘…wait a damn minute. If that was a fire-breathing cat, then… the kind of magic they’re talking about is… real fucking magic. Like fantasy world, Dungeons and Dragons’ kind of magic: flashy fireballs and eldritch blasts… What the actual fuck is going on? Have I been drugged? Is this just a real bad acid trip? I know I’m not dreaming because I feel like DIO used Road Roller on me. What’s gonna happen to me? Because something definitely went wrong with that mirror since it rejected me and holy shit what are they gonna do to me? Is this gonna be something like a ‘you know our secret so we can’t allow you to live’ kinda deal? Am I gonna die? Is that why they had coffins prepared? Are they gonna shove me into one of those and bury me al—’ you were snapped out of your thoughts when the headmaster waved his hand in front of your face. Glancing around, you saw that you two were now the only occupants in the room.

“There you are,” he pulled his hand away from your face. “Well then, (y/n), I’m terribly sorry about this but… We must have you leave the school. Those without any talent for magic cannot be allowed to attend class here.” He must have noticed you tense up when he said that, because you thought that meant disposing of you. “There is no need to worry. The Dark Mirror will send you directly back from whence you came. Enter the Gate, and picture your home clearly in mind…”

You did as he told, picturing where you last were when you had began your meditation. Feeling very much like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, you found yourself chanting ‘there’s no place like home’ in your head.

“Oh, Dark Mirror!” Crowley called out. “Guide this one back to the place they belong!” A moment of silence. “Once more. Oh, Dark Mirror! Guide this—”

“It is nowhere…” the mirror interrupted.

Your eyes snapped open, a tight strained smile on your face. ‘I’m sorry, the fuck did you just say?’ Crowley seemed to have a similar dumbfounded reaction.

“The place they belong is nowhere in this world; it does not exist.”

“What did you say?” Crowley voice the pg-13 version of your thoughts. “That is unbelievable! Hmm, well, the unbelievable has been on parade today.”

‘Uh, yeah. There was a goddamn fire breathing cat ready to kill us all.’

“This is the first time it’s ever happened since I became Headmaster, what should be… Where exactly did you come from?” Crowley asked you.

“Uhh… Do you just want the country, or do you need the planet’s name since the mirror said I don’t belong in this world?”

“Just the country is fine.”

“Well, I’m from (country), but I have no idea how far away we are from it right now.”

“I’ve never heard of that place,” your stomach dropped at Crowley’s remark. “I have a general grasp of where all the students came from, but I’ve never even heard that name before… If you really are not of this world, then I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to know your planet’s name.”

“Well, I’m from Earth.”

“Earth? As in the ground, soil, dirt?” He sounded like he didn’t really believe you. “Well that’s not very helpful, but I suppose you could call any planet ‘earth’ if you so wished. Well, no matter,” he clapped his hands in finality. “Let’s go do some research in the library.

“Who in their right mind would name a planet after its dirt?” You heard Crowley mumble under his breath as you followed him, clearly trying to keep you from hearing him, but that didn’t work out so well.

‘I think it might be the other way around, where we made another word for dirt named after the planet itself.’

You and Crowley made it back to the Library where you were before, but this time you could see just how large it was since Crowley turned the lights on. Using his magic, he practically summoned various historical books and world maps that showed the different countries and borders that were present at certain time periods.

Your vision was still too blurry to read, but you could still make out shapes fairly well, so you stuck to looking through the various world maps. The first thing you noticed were the continents: they were all wrong. You didn’t recognize any of them, though they were consistent across all the maps you had in front of you. These were not Earth’s continents. Desperate, you looked closer at the borders of different countries to see if any looked familiar, squinting to see if you could even have a possibility of reading the names.

You take a deep breath, ‘Okay, (y/n). You’re a-okay. There’s an explanation for this. I’m sure of it. Maybe you just astral projected on accident or something. Okay. You can deal with that. You’ve read about how to get back to your body. You can do it.’ You visualized a cord of sorts connecting the you here to the you that you remember meditating at home. And then you pulled. You opened your eyes and— ‘…I’m still here.’

“There really isn't anything,” Crowley was the first to break the silence. “Not only the world map, but the name of your home isn't written in any history. Are you truly from where you say? You aren't lying to me by chance?”

“No! Why the hell would I lie about any of—" you gestured around you wildly “—of this?!” You must have looked absolutely terrible because you saw Crowley almost look a little guilty for his accusation.

“Looking at all this, you may have somehow been brought here from another planet, after all... There's also the possibility you're from another world.”

“I really am an alien, aren’t I?” You could feel a lump rising in your throat, that previously pending anxiety suddenly rapidly rising. You sadly chuckled out a resigned ‘fuck’ and rested your forehead against the table, your hands grasping, digging into the back of your head. You could tell you were spiraling, but you couldn’t do anything about it. Your breaths quickened as bad thoughts and worries about what the hell is going to happen to you now kept infiltrating your head without pause. You tried to take deep breaths, only for your breath to hitch and prevent that. ‘Okay, okay, we can do this; mantra time,’ the only other way you knew that helped you calm down was to repeat an unrelated mantra in your head until you stopped hyperventilating. ‘The—the mitochondria… is the powerhouse of the cell**. The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.’ You repeated that phrase as best you could, both in your thoughts and aloud.

Eventually, you were able to get your breathing back under control. ‘Okay…okay. We’re good. I’m good. I’m fine.’

Crowley cleared his throat, obviously not used to being in these kinds of situations and continued as if nothing happened. “What did you have on you when you came here? Do you have any identification, like a license for a magic car, name on a shoe… You appear to be empty-handed.”

You gave your pockets a quick pat down. “I got nothin’.”

“This is concerning. I can't just let someone who can't use magic to stay at school. However, as an educator, I can't just toss a penniless teenager out on the street with no form of communication. For I am gracious.”

‘…Teenager? You know what, I’m not gonna correct him. It’ll probably benefit me more to let him think I’m a minor.’

“Hmmmm… That's right! There is an unused building on campus. It was once used as a dormitory in the past so if you can clean it up, you should at least be able to sleep there. For the time being, I shall allow you to stay there! Then I will look for a way for you to return home. My graciousness is limitless! I am a model for all educators. We had better be on our way. Let's head to the dormitory. It may be a bit old but there is a certain charm to it.”

You felt bad for the poor librarians who would have to clean up your mess. You couldn’t stay to do it yourself because Crowley already took off, his long legs giving him a longer stride, making you speed walk in order to keep up with him. You couldn’t wait to lie down and rest your aching body.

    *Confederate statues in the US—getting rid of the scary white men but keeping the horses: https://youtu.be/aFgGazYzDPo

 ** “The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell” is easy to remember (since it’s been ingrained in all of our heads) and is completely unrelated to most causes of an anxiety attack. Unless it’s a bio test.

 Okay, so, I wasn’t expecting to get to 6,000 words but here we are. So we have a witch reader, and by witch I mean drawing sigils and making spell jars and such. Let’s see how long it takes for the reader’s adrenaline to run out and realize just how badly they’re hurt. Also, reader is probably end up being a babysitter for those overgrown toddlers (you know who I’m talking about). You thought boarding school would mean getting away from parental figures? Ha! Think again! Cuz the reader is gonna step up and fill that role because these poor boys are young and stupid. But that’ll have to wait until after the reader gets some proper medical attention.

Chapter 2

[riaflicke]

The saying went something like, monsters are created not born. And that was exactly how Ria Flicke felt about the demon - or demons, plural, depending on the day - inside of her. It wasn’t always dark, but it was fed enough that it grew and grew until she didn’t know what it felt like to not have the darkness inside of her.

Some of the creation was self-inflicted. It wasn’t like she knew how to walk away from a bad situation or how to let the light win out, no, she let the darkness win and that was her own fault. Over the past few months of alone time and wrestling with questions and curiosities, she managed to figure out how and where the darkness was cultivated, fed and nurtured by the people that were meant to protect her.

AUGUST 17th, 2010, FAIRFIELD, CONNECTICUT (14 years old)

Move in day for Faircrest Preparatory School. Day one of one million of learning to be a spy. Mariana thought that it would be a good idea for Leon to drive Ria to move in. After all, he worked at Faircrest, and she thought it’d be good for the younger Flicke to finally get to know her father. 

Needless to say, it did not get off to a good start. Ria knew two things: her mother was cryptic about her father and the only way to get adults to pay attention to her was to be annoying. And she had lots of questions for Leon which meant she would be extra annoying. 

“Don’t put your feet up there,” Leon turned over to his daughter, who had perched her feet on the all white car dash. “You’re going to get it dirty.” “What?” Ria didn’t dignify him with even a glance, she instead focused on picking a scab on her calf. “Maria-” “Ria.” “Maria,” Leon huffed, “Take your feet off the dash or we’re not leaving this driveway… What did you do to yourself anyway?” “Fell off my bike.” “Don’t you know how to ride a bike?” Picking at the scab until she got it to bleed again (because it definitely made her dad cringe), “Yes. I let go.” “Why?” “It made mom freak out.” She finally moved her feet from the dash, pleased with the furrowed brow her father now had. “And why in the world would you want to do that?” Leon asked in a deadpan tone, clearly frustrated with his daughter’s antics. “It proved mom cares. Somewhere. She got worried.”

The frustration on Leon’s face morphed into one of pride, but in the blink of an eye it was back to neutral. “You’re already thinking like a spy. What has your mother taught you so far?” “Nothing, I’ve known for all of like, three months.” “Alright. Well, we have about six hours ahead of us-” “Joy.” “Don’t interrupt me, Maria. I can’t have my daughter not knowing anything about spyhood. You’re already starting Faircrest at a disadvantage.”

That spoke to the competitive side of Ria and all, but she thought that this ride would be a way to get to know the man she’d wondered about for years. “You’re going to spend six hours talking to me about spy stuff and not like… anything about me?” “I didn’t say that. Anyways, I’ll see you all year on campus, we have plenty of time to get to know each other.” “Ooookay. Weird, but, fine, talk to me about your spy life or whatever…” Her voice trailed off into silence.

Leon glanced over at her, “What were you about to say?” Chewing on her bottom lip, Ria was silent for a little longer before speaking up. “I wanted to ask you a question.” “Fine, ask it then.” “Do you love me?” The words sounded sharp to hide the fear inside. “I don’t know.” Sitting up straighter, the blonde’s face dropped, “How do you not know? I’m your daughter.” “We just met.” “So?” “So,  I need time to decide.” “Do you think you ever will?” “We’ll see.” And he wouldn’t. ‘I love you’ were three words he’d never say. “Fine… Tell me about this spy shit.” “Language.”

JUNE 8th, 2010, FAIRFIELD, CONNECTICUT (17 years old) Whether she wanted to listen to her father or not (spoiler: she didn’t!), Ria wanted to be top of her class. Success was something she could control. Success gave her purpose. Success made it all worth it. So as much as she hated Leon Calder with everything in her being, she kept note of all of his rules and the subsequent tests and trials in a tiny leather bound notebook. It was a pale pink, embossed with “Maria” on the cover - which she had since scratched up with pens and keys until it only read Ria.

With graduation on the corner - and a four year break from spyhood (her parents hated that one) on the horizon - she flicked through the pages, a walk down a very bumpy memory lane.

Rule 1: Control the conversation What’s it mean: - Have conviction in what you say - Stand by your words, even if they’re questionable - Don’t get stuck in webs of lies - Take pride in attention - good or bad - throws people off their game when you embrace an insult

Rule 2: Head not heart What’s it mean: - Don’t lead with emotions ever - Look at things logically bc that’s trustworthy, emotions are fickle - Tears are weakness - avoid at all costs!!!

8/30/10 - first week @ faircrest, dad got me a xanax prescription. told me it’s better to feel nothing than something. haven’t tried it yet 2/1/12 - (middle of soph. year.) - i think i’m addicted  4/29/14 - i’m graduating in 2 months. Idk how to feel bc i don’t think i’ve felt anything in four years. 8/2/14 - i don’t trust my own head

Rule 3: Don’t have a blindspot What’s it mean: - Falling in love means youre caught up in another person - Getting caught up in another person is a weak point - A lover will betray you or will be used against you - Lust =/= love, lust is ok.

11/1/13 - i don’t think ive cared about a single person ive slept with. like at all.

Rule 4: Know what you’re walking into What’s it mean: - Awareness is key - Evaluate every situation in full - ALWAYS keep your guard up or you’ll get backstabbed

12/21/10 - was @ home for christmas, dad snuck up behind me and threw a knife. i ducked in time. said i need to get better at awareness. Wtf.

After twenty or so blank pages, one page of the notebook had a few words written on it in all capitals. They were written more cleanly than the notes and scribbles of yesteryear, clearly written by an older Ria with stronger penmanship.

I THINK IM A MONSTER.

SEPTEMBER THROUGH NOVEMBER, 2020, ROSEVILLE, VA (24 years old)

The fires the year prior had been the first time that Ria remembered crying in over ten years. Something cracked inside of her as the buildings and all she’d used to ground herself started to fall and crackle apart. It was what pushed her to look inside of her. To know why she held so tightly onto the lessons and learnings from two people that couldn’t care less about her. It was what sent her to therapy. 

There were no diagnoses to be found, apart from a self-inflicted dependence on unhealthy relationships and her vices. She lacked the remorse and violence to be a psychopath, and she didn’t have the swings of anger that hallmarked aggression disorders. What was there instead was a shell, a guard that presented itself as sociopathy - but she knew what she was doing, she had remorse, that was where the questions began. How could you display every trait in the book but be ‘normal’ inside? 

The revelation of Blackthorne as a school for assassins had opened up even more of a can of worms, but she ignored it until the start of her third year, as she continued to try and understand what was going on inside of her head. Leon had gone to Blackthorne, yet the alumni didn’t seem to recognize his name. Something was up.

With the help of one of her Faircrest friends, Tobi, she was able to find more on her father. More on his employment records and his history. He’d begun going by his middle name after graduating Blackthorne, Leon Calder instead of Malcolm Calder. Hardly a criminal offense. He had a cross listing with the MI5 (expected, she knew her parents met in London) and a private agency ‘Atkinson Associates’. Further digging revealed it as a hitman agency, one that her father was still actively employed with. 

Once she had that, and access to the files of the company, she went to dig on her own - not wanting to pull anyone else deeper into the mess. The employee roster and files were what she really wanted. Clicking on her father’s, she read through the notes, feeling a gross pit building in her stomach as she learned more. Kill count: 117. Use for: High profile, quickturn jobs. Works both individually and with partners.

Noting that the word partners was linked, Ria clicked on it, skimming quickly over unknown names until she settled on the name of a former partner. One she knew too well. Mariana Alice Flicke.

“No…. no no no…” But she couldn’t stop, she had to know more about her mother. Kill count: 2. Use for: Track erasure and evidence destruction. 

She didn’t know if it made her feel better or worse that her mother was typically non-violent… Even if she condoned the violence. Blue eyes kept scanning the profile of her mom. Employment Terminated: September 30, 1995 Reason: Pregnancy.

“No wonder he hates me so fucking much.” She took Mariana out of the field, she took his partner away… But that wasn’t her fault! Hovering over the word pregnancy, Ria’s brow furrowed. Another link. There was no reason that needed to be linked. Everyone knew how pregnancy worked!

After a long stare off with the link, she finally clicked on it. The curiosity eating away at her. It pulled up what looked like an incomplete profile, one with nothing but the key statistics. And she didn’t even need to read them, they were ones she knew by heart. Name: Maria Grace Flicke Date of Birth: June 6, 1996 Start Date: To Be Determined.

She wanted to stop scrolling, but her hand kept moving, the answers were finally there. Whether she liked them or not. 

Current Status: 

Atkinson Associates Case study 001.:  Nature versus Nurture

- Developing the mindset of an assassin from day one - Utilizing upbringing to control later characteristics, thought processes, and disposition

None of her mania was an accident. It was all part of a bigger plan that she never wanted to be a part of. Each demon was planted inside of her by the people that were supposed to love her most.

And the only way she could deal with this was to let out an ear-piercing wail.

[jhoudiey]

Let the Rescue Mission begin!

Finished writing the Yoru crashes the Ghost Marriage story, her and Ortho are going to fuck shit up, no one marries Idia on their watch. What did they blow up? Probably Crowley tbh. Also remind me to never draw Ortho again, 11/10 regrets.

I tried to make it fit along with the regular story as best I could, so I used some of the text from @kibadreams​ translation of it! (Go check out the translations if you haven’t already, and leave a tip if you can :D) All translation text I’ve used I’ve got in italics, final word count is 1900! Full story under the cut.

Crowley gestured grandly at the students gathered around him, “A friend's life is in danger. And I know the wonderfully kind students here will save Shroud-kun……” He wilted with the resounding chorus of no’s he’d received in response.

“What, why? You've gotta help me!” Ortho said, rejected and hurt that no one was willing to help his brother.

Vil sighed and shrugged, looking at Ortho with pity ”He's always avoiding people, and only appears when there's a problem to be solved. You're asking too much.”

”This is your "brother's" problem. Do something about it yourself.” Leona drawled, not willing to help either. 

Ortho sighed, dejected. ”….. I see. Fine, ugh. I'll be okay by myself. Simulating: Idia Shroud recovery pattern. Condition: prioritize speed of rescue operation. …..Simulated operation successful. Now executing actual operation. Now loading dark magic. Target locked: Set on Nightraven College, Main Building. Time until dark magic beam fire: 5 seconds. 4…...3…....2….....”

”STOP THIS AT ONCE------!” Crowley said, shocked that young Ortho would go to such lengths “You actually intend to blow our school, with hundreds of years of tradition, into smithereens? Dark magic beams are forbidden!” He shook his head

”...Well no one was prepared to help, so this is all I could do.” Ortho said, downtrodden that his only solution had been denied.

Yoru dropped from the sky into the students' midst, to a chorus of “what the...?” from everyone who hadn’t met or seen her before. 

“Boooooo, you all suck” she said to the group at large, she looked at Ortho “I’ll help you get Idia back, don’t worry.” 

“Thank you Yoru-san! Together we will save Nii-san!” 

“You could still blow up the school though if you want, might be fun” Yoru laughed, grinning at Crowley

“Hey now…” Crowley started before Leona butted in 

“Who the hell is this, anyway?” he asked, jutting his thumb towards her.

“Ahhh Yoru-san, it seems you were watching the whole thing?” Azul asked, hand on his chin in contemplation “that unique magic of yours does seem to be very handy…”

“Yea. Ortho, maybe you should threaten to destroy his shitty Octopus lounge too and he’d help” Ortho giggled “Anyways, let's get out of here, these useless guys can’t do anything anyway”. She grabbed Ortho under the arms and flew away from the group as quickly as she came. 

“Excuse me, would someone please explain why there is a feral woman with wings on campus?” Vil said, clearly annoyed.

“Ahhh, my apologies” Crowley batted his hand at them “That is my daughter, she is… uhh...spirited, to say the least”

“You look pretty proud though” Leona chuckled, looking at the puffed up and smiling Crowley

“Well you know… fathers and their daughters… anyways, back to the task. We can’t leave it up to my sweet and cute daughter to save Shroud-kun, Operation “guilt trip them is underway!” He said, straightening his jacket

“Did he just say… operation guilt trip?” Ace muttered under his breath

“Ah, here's one now! A Nightraven College student!" Crowley said getting in Ace’s face with a make believe microphone

Ace jumped back from him, confused “Wha- what are you doing all of a sudden?”

Crowley, undeterred, continued to push his fake microphone into his face "I'm a reporter from TBC News! You are a student of Nightraven College, yes?!"

“Whaaat is happening?” Ace asked, looking around at his classmates

***

“K Ortho, how do you want to do this? I saw what happened, but I don’t think I’ll be able to fight a ghost” Yoru sat across from him in the tree she’d flown them to. 

“Well I can blow up the school but…” he paused

“It might be a bit of an overkill” They said together, laughing

“What sort of specs do you have in that body of yours? Anything that can destroy a ghost?”

“No, if I did I’d have saved Nii-san by now” Ortho said sadly

“Well, that’s alright” Yoru replied, patting him on the shoulder “I can see where they are, but we’ll need a distraction to get him out of there...and we’ll need something that we can actually hit them with”

“So we gotta go to Sams Mystery Shop!” Ortho said, excited to start the rescue plan

“Eventually... the idiot party has moved in front of his shop and I’d rather avoid them, I don’t really like being seen around campus” She grimaced

“But what about Nii-san! We need to save him right now!” Ortho stood, indignant that Yoru wasn’t wanting to jump to action immediately.

“Ortho, it’s okay. I’ve got eyes on Idia, and eyes on the shop, we can go once everyone has moved on, they’re planning on helping after all. Dad must have guilted them good” She laughed and stuck her tongue out at Ortho, he was reassured and sat back down in the tree. 

They stayed in the tree, making plans and discussing how to fight ghosts. Eventually Yoru saw through the crows that the last group of students had left the shop, and she signaled to Ortho that it was time to go.

“Ahhh more little devils have come to visit my shop! Anything you need is IN STOCK NOW!” Sam said jovially when they walked through the door

“Hey Sam, we need something to repel ghosts” Yoru said with no preamble or pleasantries 

“Another devil wanting to fight ghosts! Lucky for you, I always make sure to have some extra goodies for my favourite little demon!” He teased her, patting her on the head. She swatted his hand away

“Haha” She said flatly “I don’t want to marry the crappy ghost bride, I want to destroy her for kidnapping my friend” Ortho furiously nodded behind her. 

“Haha what funny little demons you are! Let me know how it goes, I do love hearing stories from the dead” He handed them a small torch and grinned at them. “This will attract the ghosts and they’ll be temporarily frozen in place. Remember to use it, your feet will be of no use to you in this fight” he smiled.  

“Okay Ortho. They’ve moved Idia to the cafeteria, if we go in through one of the windows do you think you can sneak up to him and grab him while I cause a diversion? ”

“Yup! Don’t doubt me when Nii-san is concerned! He’s in danger so I’ll do anything to save him!” 

“You’re a good kid, Ortho. Lets go get your brother back” She grinned and grabbed him in her feet, speeding off towards the great hall. 

The sounds of slaps rung through the hall, Yoru had to suppress her laughter from where she hid in the window with Ortho. This was too good to ruin, Idia could wait a few more moments. The look on Azul’s face was particularly satisfying after his initial refusal to help.  

“We should use the others as a diversion, when they come to attempt to propose to the princess we’ll grab Idia and get out of here” She whispered to him, keeping a close eye on the ghosts. “Shouldn’t be long now…”

“But Yoru, they’re all chanting Kiss! Kiss! Nii-san is going to be taken away to the land of the dead!” Ortho whispered, getting more upset by the minute.

“It’s not quite time yet, Ortho, please believe in me! I’m not going to let anything bad happen to Idia” Yoru reassured him, patting him on the shoulder again. 

There was a ruckus outside the cafeteria, the guards left to protect the princess from the new would be suitors. “It’s time, Ortho, let's go” Yoru said, dropping down to the center of the cafeteria in a flurry of feathers and fury. 

“Ehhh? Fugu-chan you came to fight a ghost?” Floyd laughed, surprised, grinning at the chaos. 

Eliza screeched for her guards, how DARE a commoner attack her! At her own wedding, no less! She stood back as her ghostly consort moved to protect her from Yoru’s furious attacks. 

“I’m not letting you marry Idia you shitty ghost!” she shouted, flying at Eliza

“Ah, it is almost midnight…. Finally, the time to seal our vows with a kiss!.. Get out of my way you terrible bird girl!” Eliza tried to get passed Yoru to where she could reach Idia.

“Heeeeeeeh is Fugu-chan jealous that Hataruika-senpai is going to marry the ghost?” Floyd pouted from where he stood, frozen

“Fufufu, I don’t think Yoru-san is the jealous one here…” Jade muttered with a smile on his face, looking at his brother

“Ah it seems there is at least some entertainment at this wedding” Lilia chuckled, clearly enjoying the drama as it unfolded. 

None of Yoru’s attacks were having any effect, but the ghosts were weary of the torch she still held in her hand, it could cause them problems if they were caught with it... if she actually remembered to use it. Yoru had so far managed to avoid being slapped, but she was losing. The torch provided her some extra leeway, but there were too many ghosts for her to handle without getting caught and slapped like the rest of them. The doors to the cafeteria slammed open, help had arrived.

“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE WITH THE WEDDING—-!!!!”

The ghosts that were occupied with Yoru turned their attention from her and towards Ace, framed in the doorway. She used the distraction to fly towards Idia, where Ortho was slowly dragging him towards the windows. 

“Yoru help! He can’t move and he’s hard to move like this!” Ortho struggled, trying to lift him

“Time for your dramatic manga rescue” Yoru teased Idia as she grabbed his arms in her feet, scooping Ortho under the arms, and flew them out the window. 

“Does she always enter and leave so dramatically?” Cater sighed, secretly wishing he could master the art of a flashy entrance to the same degree. 

“I’m impressed she didn’t get slapped” Lilia pouted, still playing up his injury like it actually hurt.

***

“Yoru! Do you think you can c-carry us both?” Idia stuttered, swaying in the air from where he was hanging from her feet. 

“I don’t need to carry Ortho, he can float down, I’ve just gotta carry you. I only needed to grab him long enough to get out of the school”. She let go of Ortho, who was happy to float along beside them

“EEEEaaaaaaahhhhhh this isn’t the rescue I’d dreamt oooooffffffffff!!” Idia screamed as they flew towards the mirror chamber, him swinging precariously in her talons. Ortho giggled, glad to have his brother back. 

“Okay, make sure to not get kidnapped by any more ghosts” Yoru laughed as they landed in the mirror chamber, in front of the passage back to Ignihyde. 

“I-I didn’t want to b-be kidnapped in the f-first place!” He stuttered, clearly still shaken at the day's events.

“Ahahahahahah, you almost married a ghost! Luckily we came to your rescue like valiant… uhhh… knights? That normally… save the kidnapped princess?” Yoru poked fun at him “I don’t know what happens in the manga you like to read” She laughed as he sputtered and tried to think of something to protest with

“Yea Nii-san! The princess has to kiss the hero that saves them at the end!” Ortho giggled, looking between them

They both paused, awkwardly staring at each other for a few moments

“...No. Absolutely not. Nu-uh. Nope.” They both said shaking their heads, in perfect unison.

[flightofaqrow]

kiss with a fist

qrow + James ( @caeloservare​ )

“Let me remind you, how exactly I run my army is none of your business and you are not allowed to sniff around in Atlas.”

“what makes you think i care about how you run your army? i’m more worried about what you do with it. or is that just more guilt i hear?”

...qrow has a split second to dodge the punch.

everything about it is feral and raw, because that’s what happens when words don’t work.

They needed this.

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Just cause that’s what I did doesn’t mean you have to accuse the others, Jimmy.

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“Oh, shut up, I bet you all did!”

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“yeah? and i bet you run background checks on alla your men, don’t you? this was just more of… an informal process.”

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“Let me remind you, how exactly I run my army is none of your business and you are not allowed to sniff around in Atlas.”

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“what makes you think i care about how you run your army? i’m more worried about what you do with it. or is that just more guilt i hear?”

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Qrow has a split second to dodge the punch. And to pray his cheek can take impact of metal prosthetics well enough, because crossing highly personal borders with shoes on is rewarded with this kind of greeting.

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qrow and Ironwood on similar grounds of skill, and yet even though qrow wins by leagues when it comes to speed versus strength, he never saw it coming. not from James, not from the barest of bait.

uses the tiny window to draw up aura while he takes it right on the cheek; iron-fisted by Ironwood in the most unpleasurable way. head knocked to the side, and body knocked back a few steps, he rubs a stinging pressure where metal knuckles landed and resets burning red vision.

“oh, ho ho ho…” a gutteral, rueful chuckle crawls up from his chest. so it’s come to this? of course it has. it always does.

…fine.

if there’s one lesson the tribe ever taught him too well, it’s that there are more ways to work out problems than with words.

qrow puts his fighting face on with a grin and glint in his eyes, and rocks back on his heel with the last of the energy sent at him before pushing off in a long-limbed lunge forward to return the sling; goes for the guts (the softer half) while Ironwood still has arms elevated.

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If anything, laughter and so confident, so pleased posture drives James even more angry. Not only this little shit dares to act like an absolute idiot and hit where he was trusted not to, but seems he has fun while doing it.

Sadly, Qrow is a little bit faster than James. He folds in half with a grunt, but that gives him a good position and little space to ram into Qrow, head first, push him out of closest proximity or maybe throw off balance.

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no one punches right to the face without intention to hurt, qrow knows better than anyone. especially with an opening declaration like that, if James expects him to play fair instead of dirty, taking whatever opening he can get, he knows him even less than how a spy’s job works.

a spy, allied under the same man as Ironwood, that’s supposed to be on the same side. a little trust would be nice.

partially metal forehead bashes against qrow’s shoulder eliciting a heave of air and pained groan. with the blood-colored web of his aura awake and glowing from the hit, he lets it wash across his chest and down his arms; falls backwards from the force, but grabs fistfuls of jacket and shirt with misfortune-laced hands to yank with him, turning lost balance into in a suplex.

Odds of escape not in the other man’s favor as entangled limbs crash into the floor loudly cracking beneath them, fractured and dented around their bodies, but not caved through - yet; windows rattle in the wake.

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Well, the training grounds would be a much better spot for an impromptu wrestling session, but it’s bit too late to relocate now. Pulled down, James tried to avoid landing on his head, as someone’s luck was apparently aiming to let him knock himself out. He meets the floor with a pained grunt, but rolls over right after hitting the ground. Not wasting any second, James springs forward to slam into Qrow, pin him down with his weight, lock him in a any lever hold if possible.

From all possible types of problem solving, they chose this - least pleasant way to tangle limbs on the floor.

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as James rolls away, qrow uses the space to roll out, knocking into a table leg which bumps the surface off kilter and send a lamp crashing to the ground; its bulb pops and fizzles out. a little less light in the apartment, now.

he scrambles to all fours just in time to take a charging clothesline right to the chest with a throaty wheeze. but lanky, loose legs accept the shockwave and recoil to keep him steady, pushing right back as pairs of shoulders lock. arms raise to grapple with the man; muscles strain and sweat starts to drip down his face - full of focus and surprisingly calm, considering - from dogged effort of trying to push James down or roll him over while qrow growls in rough cadence along with the entropic pulse of his semblance flashing, threatening to drag everything down with; framed artworks clatter against the walls and ornamental figures fall from shelves.

chaos to combat order.

and while qrow is resilient, determined to break through, and awfully good at breaking things, James is stubborn, more than any other person on Remnant, solid in ways beyond just metal flesh.

grit clenches qrow’s jaw and grounds his feet, braces the entire frame of his physique, prepared to hold out and lash out as long as it takes for James to burn out.

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Looking from time perspective, James might think they shouldn’t have gone this feral. He might be wealthy, but most definitely doesn’t sleep on money and renovating most of his apartment’s main room was not in his spending plans for this year.

But at the moment he doesn’t think about it, assuming he thinks at all in between anger and adrenaline running through him in pulsing waves, getting lost in pure fighting instinct. Rarely he allows himself to dive into something this far, to lose head and his cool, analytical thinking and yet, here they are - engaged in punching, kicking, wrapping and pulling each other so far, that nothing else matters. No snapping, crumbling and crushing around is relevant. Whenever dark blue eyes meets pale red, it’s like a challenge is thrown anew and another round starts, even when more and more exhaust creeps into muscles. Fatigue is too slow to cool the raw determination down.

Thrown on his back, James lands hard again, but this time, something stabs him between the shoulders. He bites down his own pained whine as impact echoes through his entire spine and body. Only then he realizes that his aura is in fact gone. Must have been for a while. He stops, letting his weight slide him to side, a little away from whatever part of former coffee table tried to impale him. Still keeping his grip on Qrow, he finally notices large amount of aching all over and how heavily they both are breathing by now. Brothers, this is bad. Slowly, he just lets go, not moving from the spot. They’ve had enough, haven’t they… He’s not sure what got into him, but sure he’s glad it got out.

“Enough…” He breathes out quietly, squeezing eyes shut. Doesn’t dare to look around yet, he knows already that externalizing inner mess went all too well. Only now he feels various swelling and aching in way too many parts of his body, blood dripping from his nose and a cheek burning wildly. He doesn’t want to think what’s left of his shirt and jacket. Just hopes Qrow’s semblance didn’t use him as outlet to hurt its bearer to play a bigger number on him. “You okay..?”

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everything about it is feral and raw, because that’s what happens when words don’t work. people speak just as well with their bodies, the flesh and blood container of their heart, and beneath all the titles, despite all the metal, James understands that better than anyone. if qrow has to surround him with collateral damage to show him how little meaning all this wealth and power has in the end, if he has to rip and tear apart every bit of pomp to remind him how human James Ironwood really is, then so be it.

qrow’s quite practiced in being climbed on, brow-beaten, deceived, and shoved aside by the people who are supposed to be protecting him. and still he reaches out a hand and an extra leg to stand on; maybe in the form of a fist or boot to the head, but little else needs to be noted about his intentions than the fact that Harbinger still rests idle on the sidelines.

qrow, belittles himself so easy, doesn’t mind being beneath, has no need for reputation or glory or having all the right answers all the time.

the only follower left in the midst of too many frantic leaders, and meanwhile getting shit on and actively having his clothes and his skin and his soul torn apart for being just that. who he is. just like always.

but qrow can think for himself, and this he makes his own call on, refuses to back down from. if James cannot work within the gray, only sees black and white, then this is a time to push, to push to their absolute limits, until they’re too exhausted for anything but the messy truth.

and qrow comes out on top as the last dregs of misfortune summon piercing blows from broken parts, spent in the from of aura flickering away just before the other’s dissolves, and he can only close his eyes and grunt. down to the fibers of every firing muscle, he knows how to tense and relax to absorb the hits, roll with the punches that never really stop. he takes the final desperate flails of James’s blows on the chin.

qrow can do that for him. knows what it’s like to have a semblance get in the way of things.

somehow manages that the only twist of fate to come back on him is how Ironwood gets his chance to ruin a pretty face wearing a smile with an iron fist, just how it started, after all.

qrow steadies as James squeaks, down on one knee, aching, tired, and heaving breaths as if he resurfaces in the middle of an ocean after going about a thousand miles too deep, sees shimmering yellow stars as the ring of a black eye blooms on his cheek, and red oozes to pool across the white of sclera as he stares the man down. sharp eyebrow raises as if to say are we done here?

Enough

they’re finally on the same page, then.

“just fine,” he hisses, even though the act of answering sends an acrid metallic copper draining down the back of his throat, “passed up enough from the start of it, James.”

he wipes his mouth, pokes tenderly at the side of his head, and sniffs against the stinging all over his body; plops down to take a seat, a breather, right on the spot. no energy left to move an inch. perfect.

“…so i think the real question here is, are you okay?”

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James covers his eyes with a crook of an elbow, at least mechanical hand comes of use now. Much easier to move than the flesh one, significantly devoid of pain. Takes a longer moment, time just for the labored breathing, before peeking at Qrow from under the hand. Mess. Now the guilt is real and it stings fiercely.

“Ice’s in freezer.” Doesn’t seem either of them can move much anymore, but he had to offer. Good he had separate small kitchen, toilet and bedroom. At least something survived.

Awfully lot of mess.

“I don’t know.” The confession is quiet, not much louder than a whisper over sudden lump in throat. He hides in the hand again. Can’t face bare truth, can’t face Qrow nor mess they caused because of him. Because of him, his pride, his stubbornness and fear that he’s mistaken, that he can sacrifice everything, do his absolute best and more, and it won’t be enough. Because she found a way in before and was a step ahead all the time. He pulled every string he could to assure it won’t happen again, but somehow, sometimes, he just couldn’t be certain.

Time passes as James just grits teeth and lays there, trying to focus on slowing down breaths and just resting.

“Qrow..?” He tries once he’s sure his voice won’t tremble. “I’m sorry.”

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yeah.

qrow is a mess. James is a mess. it’s always a mess.

but sometimes upside down and inside out adds new perspective. and James finally sees what he started. created a nice picture of how he feels. meanwhile qrow looks towards the kitchen, the freezer, and while first aid is certainly called for, it’s so far. maybe in a few.

more important things right now.

James, suddenly small and quiet, knocked off his high horse. he mutters three words, so very hard for a leader to admit. last time qrow heard it was from Ozpin, and it wrecked his world. somehow hearing it now gives him hope. hope that James can still be reached.

he’s closer than the freezer.

qrow crawls on all fours, drags himself with slow movements and griping groans, but he gets there, and flops over on his back next to his friend, shoulders of flesh touching. and they don’t need to talk, qrow doesn’t need to pry painful thoughts from his mouth, doesn’t need to hear what James faces in his own shadows, or the realizations he finds in twisting colors on the back of his eyelids; a metal arm over his face reflective enough of his state of mind to prove qrow’s plan a success. satisfaction rushes over him and salves what stings. he doesn’t like talking until he’s blue in the face only to be ignored, but maybe James will see reason if most of the words come from himself.

“don’t be sorry,” qrow grounds out, turns his head to look at the other man, and so his burning cheek finds some relief against the cool floor, “be a better person. listen to your team and your friends. things don’t have to be as unilateral as you’re makin’ ‘em, James. …and for brother’s sake, get some sleep before i conk you out for real.”

soon enough actions will demonstrate whether all this was worthwhile or not, better than any heart to heart they could have here.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

James lets out a quiet relieved huff. The touch is strangely reassuring, much more than he’d expect it to be. It answers the question, he’ll probably never ask out loud. It’s good to not be alone, especially in a very rare moment when he can’t be the leader and protector, because he’s exhausted, frustrated and insecure, and finally let it out. When he can’t keep anyone else safe and sound, because he’s crumbling himself. And yet, he’s clearly wrong to think he’ll have to face everything on his own. Mistaken that serving as kingdom’s pillar, he’s not allowed to falter and can’t be supported without any higher purpose to it.

It’s so strangely good to be wrong.

It’s good to have a friend by his side, even when he wishes Qrow didn’t have to push him this far to prove a point. But same, he’s glad he did. All the thoughts slowly settle - being ready and having plans for the future is one thing, but worrying about it should come only once it’s present, not earlier.

Snort and a quiet chuckle raises in his aching chest, releasing remains of tension.

“Please do. I could use it from time to time.” The longer he thinks about it, the funnier vision of Qrow knocking him out seems, especially now, laying down in the wreckage they created in a quite long fight.

“Fine.” That’s not much, but it is a promise. He will try to be better. The hand is dropped to side, as he leaves mental hide out and turns to finally meet Qrow’s eyes. James was never fond of repeating himself, especially when he’s told not to, so he’s not going to apologize again, but the lack of accusations nor impeachment in the pale red gaze, makes him relax more, washes the guilt away.

Something right above catches his attention and he reaches to carefully get a wooden splinter out of Qrow’s hair.

“Hmm…” A bit of bright paint indicates it once was a bookcase. “You got me good, didn’t you.” He chuckles again, throwing the splinter away. “Please don’t do that again though. I don’t want to sell family estate to afford living.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

deep chuckles roll from his throat as James agrees to the terms for a solid sock to the noggin for a solid sleep, without more broken noses. still qrow hears only the surface of thoughts, but he can dive deep as he likes into everything unspoken when dark blue eyes meet his own, a shine of honesty and gratitude beaming through otherwise exhausted features. and yet his whole body looks better this way, scuffed up clothes and broken down postures compared to rigid structures built on a grounding of false securities.

the bigger they are, the harder they fall. and qrow doesn’t wonder if James has made himself an empire too oversized to carry on one man’s shoulders. bound to collapse in a heap.

he already said his piece, and offered his shoulders to help, and alights with laugher anew as his face goes soft and cross-eyed to watch a strong hand which swung out at him not long ago, affectionately groom him, until it pinches swollen tissues forcing a release of focus, but he can’t help to think again, please see the signs around you.

“You got me good, didn’t you.”

he huffs while fluffing palms through graying black plumage to knock any more debris out.

qrow breathes; takes air into his lungs like he hasn’t in a long, long time, while the weight of misfortune is still lifted from his chest, even if his sore muscles groan from a stretch unaccustomed to. soon, aura will creep back in and bad luck will stick stubbornly to his skin in blood red tendrils, warping surrounding realities once more, but for now he takes the long shot gamble of still believing some can turn away from a path of self-destruction.

of all people, qrow has. so why not.

“did i, James?” he goads, goofy grin flashing as his head flops back down, and his fingers lace together to rest over his chest, mirth looking perhaps out of place with the rest of qrow so busted up, but since when was anything he ever did appropriate?

“it was good for me. was it good for you?”

a response all joke and no promise.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Yeah.” James chuckles and shrugs, only metal shoulder doing the full movement. “You definitely did and I take no complaints that I was the one to start the fight.” That’s half a lie - he knows he’s just as much to blame for the mess, i not more. He is the one who should know better than to let wounded pride and frustration get out like this.

“I’ll tell you once I’ll see the bill for repairs.” He huffs. There already was so much to do and now there’s even more. And the more he settled down after the fight, the more weary he felt. Can’t sleep on the floor though, however comfortable it was getting.

“I’ll fetch us the ice.” Relying mostly on his right side he sits up with a groan. Brothers, it aches. So he takes time for each movement before standing up and making way to the freezer.

They needed this. Time, vented mess, ice, all of it.

They also needed a shower and rest, but only one task at a time.

Takes some time to get back there and sit down by Qrow’s side. A bit ironic how fast can be destruction and how slow is the healing.

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Days 276-280

December 13-17 Maybe I just haven't had too much to say lately, or maybe I have just been hit with the one-two punch of ennui and busyness. We were supposed to leave yesterday for our trip to North Carolina, so I spent several days getting ready for that. The only thing worse than trying to get the house set up for a trip of several weeks in length is doing it knowing that people are going to come in while we're gone. I was able to put off the pest control people by telling them we were quarantining, which had the advantage of being absolutely true, but it also gave me extra time to clean the kitchen and the bathrooms which were the places they wanted to spray. Thank god we don't actually have bugs, those sprayings are much more invasive. This time I didn't have to empty out the cabinets or anything, just clean stuff. So a lot of time the past few days has been spent packing and cleaning. I even got down on my literal hands and knees to wash the kitchen floor. (My kitchen is so small that it doesn't make a lot of sense to use a mop.) It looks nicer now than it has in ages, tbh, just in time for us to be gone. Those pest control folks had better be very impressed. I also did more advanced planning for this trip than I usually do, packing my yarn bags and the toiletries kit several days in advance instead of my usual strategy of throwing in anything that is around on my way out the door. I was so proud of myself! Even my suitcase looks nice, everything folded and in the right place, and with the straps on to make sure it doesn't shift around too much.  Then Wednesday rolled around  and we didn't go. See it turns out that Kiddo had a standardized test to do that afternoon, the MAP test for those of you who follow such things. I cannot begin to express what kind of bullshit it is to make the kids do  standardized tests in a year like this, but it is what it is. We could've just ignored it, but I want to take the kiddo to the sea island where my folks spend the late winter for a little bit in February, and we will be better positioned to do that if we don't piss off the school too much with absences. Wednesdays are supposed to be asynchronous learning days, ideal for traveling, but instead we'd have had to stick around until nearly 3pm before heading out for a six and a half hour drive. Couple that with a gnarly winter storm weather forecast and we elected to push the trip forward by a day.  It was the right decision, but it did mean that the kiddo missed a partial day since my hotspot could not keep up with streaming his classwork once we left. He was there in the morning though, and that's when they take attendance. I made sure he did his homework. Tomorrow is the last day before break anyway, I doubt they were piling too much new stuff on. We had a brief scare when the car threw us a "bad key" error as we were trying to leave, but got it resolved and made excellent time with only one stop along the way. There was a lot of traffic! I listened to the entire soundtrack of 10 Things I Hate About You, my favorite 90s nostalgia album. Every song a banger, I tell you what. Anyway, we arrived about an hour before it started to snow, and early enough so that we could help MIL get into her book club Zoom meeting, so that was good.  Man, computers have really been a thing this week. The Red Cross rolled out a new system for getting people hooked up with services and emergency funds after a disaster, and it is _fucking awful._ It is so, so, so bad. It went live on Tuesday, and wouldn't you know it, Tuesday night I had my first call of the week. It wasn't a great call to start with, not a lot of information, some of it thirdhand, fire department no longer on scene. It's the sort of call where I would usually have to do a little extra poking the system and maybe make a couple extra calls to get everything perfect, but where it wouldn't be too big a deal. But because I marked one checkbox incorrectly on one page of this 25 page one-way flow, the system wouldn't let me set up the financial aid and it wouldn't tell me what was wrong or how to fix it.  I had to apologize to the client and tell him I would call him back because I had to figure out what was wrong. Figuring out what was wrong required contacting my coordinator, who three way called me with our area leader, who eventually put me into a Teams meeting via phone with two of her supervisors, while one person in that meeting simultaneously connected to the national watch floor so somebody could give us some goddamned technical support. (I tried calling the new tech support hotline, but they said they couldn't help me and I'd have to talk to my supervisor who had told me to call them in the first place.) So this all takes about an hour, which is actually pretty fast given all the moving parts involved and the fact that nobody knows shit about this one-day-old system, but is a long time when you have just had a fire and have young children and no place to stay. Finally, about a zillion steps up the Red Cross food chain from me, somebody is able to access the system and do the required approval (I had put a 1 instead of a 2 in what was apparently an extremely important box), and the financial assistance went through. I was able to help the client and it turned out okay, but it was HORRIBLE. I have done another call and talked to several people since then, and none of us can find one thing that the new system has made better, only things that are worse. It sucks. At least I go off shift for the month tonight.  Anyway, that was my week, but we finished our quarantine and now I am in North Carolina and that is good. MIL is happy for the company and Victoria and Tanika the cats have not tried to kill each other yet, and it's nice. Tomorrow we pickup groceries and try to get a Christmas tree, which are in short supply this year. But for now, rest! 

[coppercatwrites]

Hi! @melanoms​ directed me to your blog because she was unable to do a request and I was wondering if you would it? It's fine if your not up for doing it! In short the request was 'Would you ever do a Stephen Strange x plus size reader? If you're ok with it could you do one were the reader is always in the emergency room with magic related injuries. After Stephen becomes a sorcerer he finds out the reader is also a sorcerer, a powerful sorcerer who teaches magic.' Sorry if you're not up for it!

SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG!!! Things have kicked up around here for me but I defiantly never forgot! I hope you enjoy :) 

Pairing: Stephen Strange X Reader Word Count: 1181

“Why do you need my opinion? I don't deal with lacerations and other injuries in the E.R.” 

You hear your nurse sigh. “Doctor Strange, I haven't seen anything like this before. Please will you just look?” 

You hear the doctor sigh. Opening the curtains for him to walk through, he leans down to inspect the long gash across your stomach.  “Where did you get your injury from?” 

“Well…” you look to the side to think of an answer. “I fell.” 

Technically that was true.

You look from your abdomen to his face and back again. You can feel his hard gaze burn into you even more. 

“Okay, what did you fall on? Usually when people fall they get bruises or minor injuries. This is something more serious.”

With eyebrows furrowed, you look over to the nurse. “I don’t remember.” 

Kai

As your eyes meet, he crosses his arms. “Did you hit your head too? We can have that looked at.” 

You huff. “Can I just be stitched up please? I’ll pay in full. I have a class to get back to.” 

“I believe this is a more pressing matter. Did someone hit you?” 

Technically, yes.

“No.” 

He shakes his head and excuses himself, the nurse following behind. After some hushed words and murmurs, the last thing you hear before Stephen rushing into your space is the nurse almost yelling “This isn’t your department!” 

He pulls up a chair next to you and preps his surgical thread. You look away as he pokes the needle through your skin. After a few laces, you peek down at his steady hands. 

He sighs, “You’re lucky. If you didn't have this extra weight right here, this laceration could have killed you.” 

Your eyebrows furrow. “You’re calling me fat?”

His eyes go wide as he finishes the last of the stitching. “In a way...” 

You laugh. “Don’t worry. It won’t bother me.” 

He sucks in a breath through his teeth. “In my opinion, You’d probably be healthier and happier if you lost weight.” 

You regretted your scoff when the fire in your stomach re-lit. With eyebrows pinched, you roll your eyes. “Your opinion is shit to me, Doctor Strange.” 

His eyebrows raise as he cleans around the stitching.

You push stray hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I am fat. There’s no denying it. It’s just an image, though. Obesity doesn’t tell you who I am on the inside. It just describes the outside. For instance, you thought I was unhappy because I am fat. I am actually really happy where I am in life. I think maybe you are the one that needs to lose weight.” 

He scoffs and looks down at his abdomen. “Me? Lose weight?” 

You smirk. “The weight of your arrogance, Doctor. You’d be happier.” 

He throws his utensils onto the cart and shoots up out of his chair. Shaking his head, he whips the curtain open and closed as he exits. 

Rolling your eyes, you reach over to the table next to yourself and grab your sling ring. You open a portal to your bed at Kamar Taj. you turn your body to sit on the edge of the hospital bed. As your stitches pull, you let out a silent yell. 

In a snap, you’re dressed in your robes, and a pile of your money is neatly set on the foot of the bed. 

Once you’re on the other side, you start to close the portal when you see Doctor strange himself staring wide-eyed at the orange sparks. As he looks you in the eye, you wink. 

2 Years later

You smirk as you send Mordo flying across the training grounds. “I asked you to spar with me, Carl. Not play tag.” 

He gets up and shakes his head. “I think we’re done for now. Besides, you have a class at noon today.” 

You laugh. “You’re just afraid of losing again.” 

Grabbing your books, you rush off to class. When you turn the corner, you bump into a solid mass and drop your books on the floor. Without looking up, you spit out apologies after apologies until a shaky hand grabs the same book you were about to pick up. 

When your eyes meet, you stand upwards and take the book away from him. Your eyebrows furrow as you step back. “Doctor Strange?” 

He straightens up and smirks. “Call me Stephen. I guess that explains how you left the hospital that night.” 

You smile. “Have you lost any weight, Strange?” 

“Have you?” 

You shake your head. “I take that as a ‘no’. That’s okay, I can try to help you.” 

“Why would I need your help?” 

“You don’t need it, but you should take it. You’re going to want a friend at some point in your life.” 

He crosses his arms over his robes. “Fine.” 

“Ay, that makes me friend number one.” 

Stephen scoffs. “Says who?” 

“Nobody tries to be friends with a determined arrogant new guy. Especially after— Never mind. We don’t need to discuss this. I have a class to teach. I’ll talk to you more after?” 

“Sure.”

--

“What do you teach?” 

Sitting at your desk, you sigh. “I knew you’d find me before I found you.” 

“You spar with your students?” 

You scoff and look up from your book. “No. I just teach them how to spar each other. This is a defense class. Besides, I’d kick their ass anyway. None of them are up to my level.” 

“What if I sparred with you?” 

Leaning back in your chair, you give him a questionable look. “And why would you want to do that?” 

He chuckles. “You’re not the only one who can throw Mordo across the training grounds.” 

You stand up and lean onto your desk. “You wouldn’t like my sparring. It’s a little… intense.” 

He crosses his arms. “Is that why you were in the ER that night?” 

Sighing, you shake your head. “I was fighting with a man named Kaecilius. He was the only one that wouldn’t be afraid of hurting me if it came to it.”

He hums. “And he’s the one you were telling me about earlier?”

“Yep.”

“Why train so intensely?” 

“Stephen, why do you want to know?” 

“That’s what friends do, right? Talk to each other?” 

You smirk. “I guess you have lost some weight, Stephen.” 

He rolls his eyes and huffs. 

“I train hard because you can’t be happy all the time. Sometimes you want more from yourself so you have to push for it. I train hard because I want to be ready to defend my friends from the evils of the world. Fighting for real is a good motivator. So, Stephen, Don’t offer to spar with me unless you’re ready to put up a good fight.” 

You patiently wait for some type of response in his quiet gaze, but nothing comes. Your eyes fall back to the ground as you turn to grab your books. “I’ll be around, Stephen.” 

As you turn to leave, He lunges forward grabbing your wrist. “Hey wait!” 

You glance at him over your shoulder. “Yeah?” 

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” 

“Sure.” 

He definitely lost some weight. 

[emerald-studies]

Steps to be an Ally

*Edited for clarity*

Either view the resources I recommend or unfollow me. You don’t want to improve because your laziness, so might as well save your energy from being performative. Channel that into something/someone that matters to you...or stop lying to yourself.

1. Check-In On Your Black Friends/Acquaintances

In my opinion, I believe the best way to be an ally is to reach out to your Black friends and check in on them, consistently. If you can recognize the times we are living in are absolute hell, you should be checking in on the most affected. None of my friends have checked up on me to see how I was doing or just to talk. They didn’t even bring up the protests until I did. It feels very very lonely and scary to not be checked upon by the people who say they support and love you. So, I’m making this the first point because I don’t want anyone else to feel this way, not trying to complain.

2. Learn More About Black History

It’s important to learn about the Black activists that our history books left out. Yes, Martin Luther King Jr. was, and is, important but we need to reflect on why he was pushed on us so much in our history classes, compared to other Black leaders. Is it because our government would rather us walk down the street holding signs than actually defending ourselves against the cop who’s beating us?

Here’s a master list of activists to start you off.

3. Go to Rallies and Protests (If you can)

Find protests and rallies in your area by looking at Twitter and search #yourcityprotest. Or watch your local news channel to see where they are (if they’re being covered on the news). Also, search on Facebook. Wear a mask.

4. Donate and Sign Petitions

If you don’t have extra money to donate, that’s fine. If you still want to be an ally then sign all the petitions you can. Take a day to research all the ones you can sign/haven’t signed and sign them!

(Also you don’t need to donate to change.org! Directly donate to non-profit organizations and victims’ families!)

George Floyd - change.org

George Floyd - amnesty.org

George Floyd - colorofchange.org

Get The Officers Charged

Charge All Four Officers

Breonna Taylor - moveon.org

Breonna Taylor - colorofchange.org

Breonna Taylor - justiceforbreonna.org

Breonna Taylor - change.org

Breonna Taylor - thepetitionsite.com

Ahmaud Arbery - change.org

Ahmaud Arbery - change.org 2

Ahmaud Arbery - change.org 3

Justice for Oluwatoyin Salau

Pass The Georgia Hate Crime Bill

Defund MPD

Life Sentence For Police Brutality

Regis Korchinski - change.org

Tete Gulley - change.org

Tony McDade - change.org

Tony McDade - actionnetwork.org

Tony McDade - thepetitionsite.com

Joao Pedro - change.org

Julius Jones - change.org

Belly Mujinga - change.org

Willie Simmons - change.org

Hands Up Act - change.org

National Action Against Police Brutality

Kyjuanzi Harris - change.org

Alejandro Vargas Martinez - change.org

Censorship Of Police Brutality In France

Sean Reed - change.org

Sean Reed - change.org 2

Kendrick Johnson - change.org

Tamir Rice - change.org

Tamir Rice - change.org 2

Fire Racist Criminal From The NYPD

Jamee Johnson - organizefor.org

Darius Stewart - change.org

Darius Stewart - moveon.org

Abolish Prison Labor

Free Siyanda - change.org

Chrystul Kizer - change.org

Chrystul Kizer - change.org 2

Andile Mchunu (Bobo) - change.org

Eric Riddick - change.org

Amiya Braxton - change.org

Emerald Black - change.org

Elijah Nichols - change.org

Zinedine Karabo Gioia - change.org

Angel Bumpass - change.org

Sheku Bayoh - change.org

Angel DeCarlo - change.org

Sandra Bland - change.org

Sherrie Walker - change.org

Darrien Hunt - change.org

Cornelius Fredericks - change.org

Elijah McClain - change.org

James Scurlock - change.org

Darren Rainey- change.org

http://www.pb-resources.com/

https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/

Visit these sites for more info:

5. Educate yourself and others.

Articles:

- “America’s Racial Contract Is Killing Us” by Adam Serwer | Atlantic (May 8, 2020) - Ella Baker and the Black Freedom Movement (Mentoring a New Generation of Activists - ”My Life as an Undocumented Immigrant” by Jose Antonio Vargas | NYT Mag (June 22, 2011) - The 1619 Project (all the articles) | The New York Times Magazine - The Combahee River Collective Statement - “The Intersectionality Wars” by Jane Coaston | Vox (May 28, 2019) - Tips for Creating Effective White Caucus Groups developed by Craig Elliott PhD - “Where do I donate? Why is the uprising violent? Should I go protest?” by Courtney Martin (June 1, 2020) - ”White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack” by Knapsack Peggy McIntosh - “Who Gets to Be Afraid in America?” by Dr. Ibram X. Kendi | Atlantic (May 12, 2020)

Movies/TV Shows:

- When They See Us - American Son - Hello Privilege, It’s Me, Chelsea - The 13th - Murder to Mercy: The Cyntoia Brown Story - What Happened Miss Simone? - The Two Killings of Sam Cooke - Who Killed Malcolm X? - The Death and Life of Marsha P. Johnson - Homecoming: A Film by Beyonce (Lighter in tone) - LA 92 - Dear White People

Videos:

- Black Feminism & the Movement for Black Lives: Barbara Smith, Reina Gossett, Charlene Carruthers (50:48) - “How Studying Privilege Systems Can Strengthen Compassion” | Peggy McIntosh at TEDxTimberlaneSchools (18:26) - American Oxygen - Rihanna - Formation - Beyonce

Podcasts:

- Malcolm X Speeches - 1619 (New York Times) - About Race - Code Switch (NPR) - Intersectionality Matters! hosted by Kimberlé Crenshaw - Momentum: A Race Forward Podcast - Pod For The Cause (from The Leadership Conference on Civil & Human Rights) - Pod Save the People (Crooked Media) - Seeing White

Books:

- The Autobiography of Malcolm X - Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About RaceBook by Reni Eddo-Lodge - Black Feminist Thought by Patricia Hill Collins - Eloquent Rage: A Black Feminist Discovers Her Superpower by Dr. Brittney Cooper - Heavy: An American Memoir by Kiese Laymon - How To Be An Antiracist by Dr. Ibram X. Kendi - I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou - Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson - Me and White Supremacy by Layla F. Saad - Raising Our Hands by Jenna Arnold - Redefining Realness by Janet Mock - Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde - So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo - The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison - The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin - The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander - The Next American Revolution: Sustainable Activism for the Twenty-First Century by Grace Lee Boggs - The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson - Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston - This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color by Cherríe Moraga - When Affirmative Action Was White: An Untold History of Racial Inequality in Twentieth-Century America by Ira Katznelson - White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism by Robin DiAngelo, PhD

Follow:

- Shaun King: Instagram | Twitter | Website - Antiracism Center: Twitter - Audre Lorde Project: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook - Black Women’s Blueprint: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook - Color Of Change: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook - Colorlines: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook - The Conscious Kid: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook - Equal Justice Initiative (EJI): Twitter | Instagram | Facebook - Families Belong Together: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook - The Leadership Conference on Civil & Human Rights: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook - MPowerChange: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook - Muslim Girl: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook - NAACP: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook - National Domestic Workers Alliance: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook - Ziwe | Instagram | (She has discussions about race with White people, kinda grilling them, every Thursday at 8 p.m. EST. Super thrilling to watch.)

Here’s Some Music Too:

Change Gonna Come - Sam Cooke Chain Gang - Nina Simone Missisippi Goddamn - Nina Simone Fuck Da’ Police - N.W.A. New Slaves - Kanye This is America - Childish Gambino I’m Not Racist - Joyner Lucas Fight the Power - Public Enemy Glory - Common, John Legend Freedom (Live) - Beyonce I Can’t Breathe - H.E.R. American Oxygen - Rihanna Brown Skin Girl - Beyonce

+

My Playlist With A Few More

Black Artists Matter Playlist

-

What a large list! It looks so overwhelming! Don’t worry, you don’t have to read/watch/listen to everything. It takes a lot of effort. Jk. If you don’t want to do some homework and good deeds, then you don’t want to be an ally. And that’s perfectly fine. Just don’t lie to yourself about it.

Tough shit.

[canumoveurseatup-no]

humanity

summary: you’ve flipped the switch to your humanity and there’s only one person who can bring you back 18+

word count: 3.5k

pairings: natasha romanoff x black!vampire!reader; ex!steve x black!vampire!reader

warnings: slight EG spoilers (for those who still haven’t seen it i guess), angst, murder, mentions of blood

—————

You weren’t the same after the final battle.

You were surrounded by death, lived through it too many times. But something about this round flicked a switch in you... especially when Steve left you. He told you what he planned on doing, he was a man of his word.

You didn’t think it’d have you feeling this empty, didn’t think it’d have you feeling this dead inside since you were literally already dead, too many times over.

You’ve been poisoned with vervain, you survived a wolf’s bite. Your ex lover stabbed you with a stake to keep you asleep for centuries and his father almost stabbed you with a stake to keep you dead for good.

None of that hurt as bad as this.

You made a family here. You made plans with this man, he made you feel human, made you feel like you weren’t a monster and he just through it away.

It wasn’t supposed to hurt this bad.

—————

That’s how you found yourself here. Blood dripping down your chin as another heavy body dropped from your arms. Eyes pure black and heavily lidded.

Any ounce of humanity you did have was drained from your body and long gone. No one knew it was you, they figured it was the others that had wreaked havoc years ago. But you were bitter and wanted everyone to feel pain. You were killing relentlessly and didn’t give a damn.

You should find his old ass and drain him dry. 

It doesn’t help that he shows up, young as ever. Skin like porcelain, so fresh and supple, if you saw him you’d want to suck him dry, and not in the way that you were willing to do so before. You wanted his blood on your hands. 

The others knew to keep him from you.

“How is she doing?,” Steve question Nat. She knew you the best, she was beyond defensive when he came back.

“Why are you here, Steve? What happened?,” She wasn’t too fond of seeing him either. Not only because he left everyone during a hard, dark, grieving fucking time but because she knew he was back for you.

Him leaving finally gave her the chance to buck up and admit her feelings to you. She realized, during all of this, that she’s spent too much of her life closed off, doing nothing but living the life of a bitter woman. 

She never realized how much she’s loved these people until they were gone. She didn’t want to take that chance with you. But here Steve was expecting you to forgive and run back to him. She feared you would. She was there when you’d clench your chest and sob for him. When you made yourself sick from crying and not getting the amount of blood you needed, you didn’t feed, on humans, animals, blood bags from the hospital, nothing. 

You were on the verge of death for this man and no one else saw that but her. The love she had for Steve had run bitter, simply for hurting you. Simply because she loved you from afar for so long, she downplayed her feelings for you for so long, only for him to fucking hurt you.

“I was wrong to go back. It was a fairy tale not meant for me. I was meant to live the life of dysfunction. Sitting idle and and living the white picket fence life wasn’t for me and it was wrong to even think so,”

“She almost fucking died,” Natasha’s words were venomous and like daggers, “She wouldn’t feed. Her throat was raw from screaming for you after her nightmares. When you left she lost her sense of humanity and began feeling like a monster that only you could convince her that she wasn’t,” 

She couldn’t bear to look at Steve anymore. He made her sick. Steve felt like shit, as he should. There was no fixing this. 

“I don’t know what to do,”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do, Steve,”

---------

You returned late, you shed your blood soaked clothes in an alleyway dumpster. Luckily being smart enough to pack extra. Natasha was worried when you came back late. Each night is later than the last and you looked rougher each time, more lifeless than the last, which says a lot because you’re already dead. But you were full of life for a woman who died centuries ago, you were full of life for a woman who’s been through shit but it took one stupid soldier to break you. You felt pathetic but you felt that he was everything you spent an eternity looking for. He was your humanity... until he left and took it with him.

Natasha sat at the foot of your bed when you walked in your room. You weren’t expecting her to stay up let along be in here. 

“Steve is back... young Steve that is,”

“Not in the mood for jokes,” Your voice didn’t tremble. It was hard like a rock, your emotions were impenetrable like bulletproof glass.

“He wants you back,”

You could tell there was no hint of humor in her voice. It was almost as if she was terrified to tell you, for whatever reason why? you weren’t sure because it’s not like she knew of your late night binging and murder spree.

“Well you better keep him away from me or things are gonna get real ugly,” you finally face to look at her and it doesn’t go unnoticed how she flinches at the whites of your eyes now being black. You didn’t care who feared you anymore. The world saw you as a monster anyway.

“He made me this way,” your expression was plain and stoic. Veins under your eyes dark and poisonous, fangs seemingly sharper and more deadly, “So unless anyone wants the precious blood of Captain America to be shed, keep him away from me,”

Natasha obviously relaxes at hearing you say that. But she hates to see you so vicious. 

“Come back to me,” Natasha whispers. 

It was so easy for you to relax. Like she was your new voice of reason. She was faced with you pretty brown eyes and plump brown skin under your eyes that crinkled adorably when you smiled. 

“Come here,” she held her hand out and you took it. Her touch felt so familiar but otherworldly at the same time. Like it was meant for you but wrong.

She moved you into her lap and neither of you even flinched at the close proximity. She could have sat you beside her, you could have moved yourself opposite if the way she was pulling you, but here you were sitting in her lap like it was normal.

Natasha wanted it to be normal.

“You’re not going to back to him?,”

“I want him dead,” that edge of bitterness was back, she just wanted the gentle side of you, she didn’t want you to be filled with poison because he was the serpent to hypnotize you with his beautiful dance only for him to stick his fangs in you. 

“He’s not worth it,”

“He deserves it!,”

“That would be the easy way out for him though, wouldn’t it?,”

She had a point, but her logic was soon forgotten when you felt the way her hands caressed your thighs.

“He doesn’t deserve your emotions,” 

You could tell she was leaving words unspoken. She was biting the tip of her tongue to refrain but the way you were looking at her had her ready to risk it all.

“I do,” she felt the bitter burn of bile come up her esophagus as she watched you process what she meant.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that,” 

It wasn’t quite a rejection but it was all at the same time.

“I’ve been ready before all of this mess even happened. I’ve been ready since you came into the picture... I just wasn’t ready to admit it,”

Her voice could lull you to a peaceful sleep. 

“I hate that I can hear your love for me in your voice. It’s disgusting,” 

Natasha’s stomach dropped at your words. She hated what heartbreak has done to you, it’s made you ruthless.

“How dare you confess such a thing after being there for everything I’ve been through. It’s vile!,”

She immediately missed your warmth when you stood up and created space between you two.

“You can call it what you will but how I feel for you is everything but disgusting. I stayed up all hours of the night crying with you because I hated to see you hurt, I stayed up and wiped your tears instead of my own. I fed you blood bags that I had to steal from hospitals so you could eat because I couldn’t bear to see your skin lose it’s color from malnutrition... and I’d do it all again because I... I love you and I-,”

She was so defeated that she didn’t know how to form her words, other than to just flat out say it.

You stared at her like she had three heads, “You can’t love me,” you frowned, “He couldn’t, how can you?!,”

“Because I’m not him,”

In the blink of an eye, she had her hands on each side of your face and was staring at you like a deer in headlights afraid to make the next move.

“I’m gonna kiss you, now,”

“Do it,”

It was hungry and sloppy. Teeth clashing, complete saliva swapping, lip biting, tongue swirling. Her hands never stopped roaming your body. It was all a blur how you two ended up naked in your bed, her leg between your legs, making love to you with her mouth. It was sloppy yet calculated, like it’s a piece of art she always wanted to create but didn’t want to ruin it.

You had your knees pulled into your chest and your hand in her hair, she felt so good, her fingers obscenely soaking wet, your clit was overly sensitive because she was spending so much tine there. She just wanted to focus on your and let you know how bad she was longing for you.

“Natasha,” needy and wanton, you’ve never felt this good before. She had you ready to push her head away because you were so overstimulated. She had you quivering, the soles of your feet aching from arching them so hard. She was having ball down there and you just let her. 

She came back up to settle beside you and kiss your lips while her fingers were still buried deep. 

“I’m not him,” she whispered along your neck, “I’m fucking better than that,”

Something about her words pushed you over the edge and had you crying out for her. Feeling her hands on you had your skin on fire. Igniting a flame that was long gone and it terrified you.

With each kiss from her, you felt your humanity coming back. But you weren’t ready to turn it off. You were still bitter and hurt.

It wasn’t that easy.

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

You used her as a crutch and she knew. But she’d rather have you this way where she can be intimate and touch you in such a way than not have you at all.

You were fine with either. She still didn’t know about the ruthless slaughters and it’s best she didn’t. She’d definitely leave you just like Steve.

Steve was still trying to get the others to tell you he was wanting another chance, and it didn’t help when you finally bumped into him while with the others and everything went down from there. 

You were a filled with poison again and there was seemingly no antidote. They all tried to run Steve out of there but you weren’t having it. You had no better judgment, no conscience, no humanity. All of it that you gained back while with Natasha had gone down the drain when you saw him. You wanted to rip his throat out just to feed it back to him.

“Y/N you’re gonna hurt him!,” Sam shouted at you.

“So be it,” 

You whipped around everyone in a flash with your vampiric speed, grabbing them by the collar of their attire to throw them across the room and through glass walls 

“Y/N, baby, it’s me,” Steve tried to reason.

“I got heartbroken not amnesia, asshole,” you bared your teeth at him and noticed the way he audibly swallowed. You could hear the decadent pounding of his pulse and how it bounded in absolute terror.

“You don’t have to do this,”

“You didn’t have to leave!,” with each step you could see tears well in his eyes.

“It was a mistake! I regret it so much”

You didn’t have time to go back and forth. You sped to his place and grabbed a hand full of hair to pull him back, “I regret not killing you right then and there,”

He screamed when he felt the searing burn of your teeth puncturing his flesh. His blood was tainted. Full of regrets and lies... laced with narcissism and self righteousness. It tasted spoiled. You hated it, but you kept drinking anyway.

“Y/N!,” Natasha pulled you away. You looked terrifying with your eyes pitch black and dark blood staining your mouth.

“Come back to me,” she whispered. She’d figured it would bring you back like it did a week ago, but being around Steve wasn’t helping. Nothing was helping. You were gone, too far gone for her to try and bring you back this easily.

“Natasha, get the fuck out of the way. I’m not done with him,”

“You are! He’s not worth it!,”

You weren’t listening though. It wasn’t even you she was talking to, it was a dark doppelgänger that had a devil on her shoulder, fueling the anger and the decisions you were making. You had no better judgment, just a mind set on vengeance. You just wanted him to feel the physical affects of the emotions you were feeling. You were homicidal and you didn’t want to be stopped.

“Move!,” you weren’t gonna ask again. You sped around her to Steve but she pushed him out of the way and instead of sinking your teeth into him, it was her. There was no screaming from her. She let out a painful whimper, trying to tough it out. She couldn’t bear seeing you hurt him, no matter how much she hated him for hurting you.

You hated the taste of her blood, not because there was anything wrong but because everything was right. She was sweet, filled with redemption and effort, it was full of love. You could feel her emotions, see her regrets, see her past and her wants to change and be better. You saw yourself, she loved you, she put herself in the line of fire for you.

“Come back to me,” she grunted as she felt you suck harder, she could tell you were fighting yourself, but your carnal instincts won, “I’m not mad,”

You felt her body become heavy in your arms and that’s what made you pull away. She’d gone pale and you finally snapped out of it. A loud gasp sounded around the room and you called out for her.

“No, no, stay the hell awake!,” you smacked her cheek but she was snatched away from you to rush her to the infirmary. You looked at Steve who was looking down at you terrified, “It should have been you!,” 

You didn’t give him time to say anything before you zipped off and away from the compound. You stopped in the middle of the woods, punching the bark off the trees and screaming out into the air like a wounded wolf calling for her pack. You weren’t sure what you were feeling but your veins felt like they were on fire, a fire you never felt before. Maybe because you had Natasha’s blood in your system and it was trying to burn the tainted blood of Steve out. It was making itself at home in your body and it hurt. It was burning the pain away, creating a new being and a new beginning.

Creating a new humanity.

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

You stayed hidden for days, afraid to go back and face everyone after what you’d done. You didn’t know that Natasha was better and looking for you day and night. 

“Stop being a coward,” you’d tell yourself. 

New clothes hugged your body in comfort as you walk back up the steps to the compound. Friday recognized your fingerprint and let you in, so maybe they hadn’t shunned you. You figured they’d find out it was you killing all those people across town.

At least they were bad people.

“She’s in her room,” 

You whisked around to see Steve trying to make himself look small. He wasn’t sure if there’d be a repeat of what had happened nights prior.

“I’m not going to try and kill you. So you can stand like a man owning up to his wrongs rather than a punished puppy who has no idea of what he’s done,” you were still vicious but at least you weren’t murderous.

“I know I made a mistake,”

You could have thrown your head back and laughed. But you wanted to see what excuse he’d try to pull to try and get out of this. He was good with excuses.

“I don’t have any excuse other than I fucked up,”

Surprising.

“I don’t know what I was thinking. I know back then was my time... but I guess just seeing her during the time heist reignited old feelings in me. I thought going back would help but it didn’t fix anything. I realized my time was here and with you..,”

“The me you had before all of this is gone,” It was plain and simple what you meant. He could tell it wasn’t you. You wore hurt like a scarlet letter... this was you burning that scarlet letter to start over.

“I know and I’m sorry I hurt you,”

“Don’t be sorry. Be better,”

You turned your back to him to walk away and look for Natasha. A single knock on her door was all that was needed before she swung it open. She knew your knock, it was gentle but loud enough to let whomever was inside know that they had company.

She pulled you into her room and wrapped you in an embrace you had tried to push away. After Steve left, you told yourself you wouldn’t accept affection.

Natasha made that hard.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,”

“How’s your neck? Your vitals?,” you ignored her declaration, wanting to know if she was truly okay.

“Like it never happened,” She shrugged, “I was so hurt when I woke up and you weren’t there,”

“Because I was the reason you were there in the first place,”

“And I love you anyway,”

“There’s no way you still can after everything,” it was unbelievable.

“Pushing me away won’t work,”

“I know,” you didn’t want to fight it, especially after feeling the way her essence quite literally surged through your veins. Literally burning you from the inside.

That’s how hot her love burned for you.

You knew it was real.

And it sucks that you hurt her.

“I shouldn’t have gotten in the way but... I didn’t want you to regret hurting him in case you ever changed your mind and wanted to go back.

“Going back to him was never in my cards,”

“I couldn’t be too sure,”

“I’m here with you though,” 

That’s all she could hope for. She wanted you in her arms, your lips on hers, your head resting on her chest. Everything that came with you, she wanted it all. She knew it’d take time and you two had all the time in the world.

“Your love for me burns hot,”

She smirked and nodded, of course it did. She’s been feeling the angst of unrequited love for years, far too long. She was too hard to go after you. She can’t possibly blame Steve for making the first move toward you when he had no idea about Natasha’s feelings towards you, she couldn’t possibly blame him for doing what she was too cowardly to do.

But now was her time. She hated the circumstances of you being hurt... but it was now or never.

She’d be better.

“Like the sun’s core,”

“I can’t love right away,”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” she didn’t want you to try and rush this only for it to end messy. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if it ended badly because they didn’t made the right decisions. It’s funny she thinks this way when her face was buried in your sin night after night. Lapping up all you had to offer her. 

She didn’t want the rebound, angry fuck anymore... she wanted the real deal with you. The needy sex and then some, the love, the anger, the tears. Everything real love entailed.

“I’m still finding my humanity,”

“I’m right here,”

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

was feeling angsty and poetic.

comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

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