#so that’s why you need two female witnesses for every one male

[atopcat]

The more I learn about “benevolent misogyny” the more I realise how much gaslighting Muslim women have been exposed to, indoctrinated to believe everything Muslim men do is actually in benefit for them.

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART ONE

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, death (minor characters), bits of gore, 141 are mean pirates, kidnapping

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

The village was tranquil as you stepped through it, bare feet threading through the soft grass, hands wrapped around the handle of a woven basket. It was peaceful, as it always was, without the souls of townsfolk to burden you. They didn’t dare bother you with the witness of elders around, keeping any torment to themselves until nightfall when the small vendor shops had closed up for the evening and the old folk returned to their homes.

You basked in the warm summer rays that shined down on you as you walked past the various shops. Really, they were far from any real shops, only showcasing simple merchant carts with limited supply for the village to gather, but it was a small village, and everything you needed was for mere survival. You weren’t a greedy woman, and you were plenty grateful.

Stepping up to one of the merchants, you offered a polite smile to the older woman sitting behind it, bowing your head in greeting.

“Hello, Mary,” you addressed, and she perked up from where she stood, occupied with counting together the sum of coins she’d earned throughout the day. She reflected her own smile to you, standing a bit taller. A wrinkled hand lifted to brush strands of her gray hair that had blown astray in the light breeze, revealing her radiance.

“Afternoon, dove,” she greeted in return. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Just need a few more herbs, is all,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away from hers to pick around her cart. Mary always had plenty on hand, and usually snuck you a few extras when you weren’t looking.

“Ah, I see. Well, you know the routine, dove. Feel free to pick as many as you need,” she encouraged. You smiled graciously, collecting a small variety of herbs and plants to place in your basket.

It was a different decision every week, seeing as you often performed trial and error with them in the comfort of your home. Despite many in your village disagreeing with your efforts, you were attempting to learn more about medicines. The village was in desperate need of a proper healer, and a female one at that. The male in current practice was much too biased and reckless, though you were sure to get a mouthful if you were to express the concern.

So, you took it upon yourself. Living in the village rather than out on the mainland, it wasn’t a simple teaching. Resources and education were much more difficult to come by, and it wasn’t deemed necessary information for women to have. It was exactly the reason why you were seen as a bit of an enigmatic outcast to all – all except Mary, of course. Perhaps she simply pitied you.

“This will be all for me, Mary,” you declared, setting the basket on top of her cart. Reaching for the small pouch that rested comfortably on your hip, you dug through it, collecting a few bronze coins and setting them in the old woman’s frail hand.

Mary accepted, placing the coins in her own pouch and throwing you a kind smile. “You sure, dove? Nothing else I can do for you?”

“I’m sure,” you confirmed with a nod. “Still in the experimentation phase, I fear.”

“You’ll get there,” she assured, clasping one of your hands between both of hers and giving it an encouraging shake before releasing. “Perhaps I’ll come visit you one of these days. An old lady like myself could use a few tweaks.”

This elicited a light laugh from you, shaking your head as you grasped the basket. “You look as healthy as a babe, Mary. But yes, please do. You know my door is always open for you.”

The two of you said your sweet farewells before you set off down the grassy trail once again. You passed the other merchants, who didn’t welcome you with the same kindness Mary had, but didn’t scare you away with shrewdness either. It was a typical routine, at this point, for others to look down on you. A woman, unwilling to marry and bear children and instead, studying medicine. A true scandal, some might say.

The walk back to your home was done so without issue, but when your humble abode came into sight, tucked away on the farther side of the village for more private practice, the faces of recognizable men came into view. This was just as frequent as the judgeful side eyes you received, but much more inconvenient.

“Afternoon, dove,” one of the men greeted with a slimy smile, the nickname the village had given you slipping off of his tongue like rotted poison. Dove, a name of something so beautiful, given out of mere pettiness. You were free like a bird, yet you should’ve been confined to your cage. Something pretty to look at, but proving no use. “Never quite got back to me about my courtship.”

Right. You had ignored it on purpose. Though deemed as strange and grotesque by the townspeople, this particular man hadn’t quite gotten the hint. Lucius was his name, fitting, seeing as he was as close to the devil as they came. Conceited and boastful with no decency of leaving you be.

He was awfully determined in wanting to fix you, to make you the housewife everybody expected you to be, just like the other village women. It was common practice, seeing as women didn’t do much other than simply that. While some were quite content with that lifestyle, you sought out more. You didn’t want to be chained down to a simple man who had nothing but arrogance to offer, nor a man you weren’t in love with.

“Yes, that’s quite right,” you confirmed dryly, stepping up to your home. He blocked the doorway, barricading you from entering.

“It’s quite rude for a lady to reject,” he interjected, a devilish smile plastered on his face. You blinked up at him with a look of indifference. “I am only asking for an answer.”

“I believe I’ve told you no plenty of times,” you sighed, adjusting the basket on your hip. “I am simply not interested.”

He sucked his teeth together, glowering down at you from where he stood. It was clear he wasn’t pleased with the answer, but unfortunately for him, it was all he was going to get. You were solid with your decision, and god forbid you did change your mind on being a wife and mother, it would not be with him.

“Can’t change your mind at all, dove?” he asked in fake sweetness, reaching for your hand that wasn’t holding the basket. He took it in his grip, much too tight for your liking. “Perhaps I can help change it if you give me one night.”

You scowled at his underlying tone, pulling your hand from his grasp and resting it on the knob of your door. You pushed it open, stepping inside before turning to him. “Please do not humor me with such indications. I am not interested, nor will I change my mind.”

Abruptly closing the door on him, you settled inside of your home, breathing a low sigh of relief. You could hear his faint chuckles with the other men present, their footsteps soft against the grass as they took their leave. He never took things too far, such as forcing his way into your home or worse, forcing himself on you, but you feared that day may come the longer you rejected his advances.

You set your basket on your desk, slouching down in the old chair you’d spend days upon days occupied in. Your journal sat open with ink scattered on the pages in your scribbled handwriting, brief sketches drawn about of the varying herbs you worked tirelessly on. Above you, jars lined the shelves with fading labels, filled with makeshift medicines of all kinds.

With the village and its people now out of sight and out of mind, you resumed your studies with the fresh herbs, focusing on what your heart truly desired.

You don’t remember falling asleep. It had been hours of you with a pen in your hand, jotting down useful notes for your studies, and it was no surprise you had succumbed to exhaustion at the comfort of your desk. Your cot in the corner of the room was more a stranger than anything, but with the sight of moonlight still pouring in through your small windows, you debated on moving over to it so you could resume.

Standing from your desk, you rubbed the sleepiness crusting over your eyes, a yawn threatening to tug through your throat. Just as you began your short trek to your bed, a slight tinge of orange caught your eye, peeking in through your window. It was faint, barely knowledgeable.

Curiosity got the best of you, and through your hazy state, you tugged open the front door of your small cottage, daring to see what was outside. The orange grew brighter in view now that the door opening had allowed more light to pool in, and when you rubbed at your eyes once more, you recognized it as fire.

Fire, burning fiercely in the night, eating away at your village. The sounds of terrified screams and chaotic madness became abundantly clear when you stepped outside. It made your blood run cold. All hairs on your body stood straight in warning, beckoning you to return inside, to hide.

As much as you wanted to listen, the first thing to vacate your mind was Mary. In the brush of flames, you needed to know if she was alright, if she had gotten to safety before the angry fire had broken into her own home. Where most of the townsfolk treated you as a mere joke, Mary was the one who had given you kindness when needed.

Your feet moved in a rush to sprint towards the village, the grass damp from the midnight dew and sticking to your soles. The closer you came towards the heart of the village, the louder things grew. It was blood-curling, hearing booming voices bark various orders while others shouted in petrified fear. Mary’s house was on the other side of the village, and in an act of triumph, you aimed for it.

The heat of the flames became more apparent as you closed in on the town center. Townsfolk that you had grown with since a baby were in a frenzy, some bloodied, some weeping. They looked like they had gone through the pits of hell and crawled their way out, only to be inches away from being dragged back in again.

There was no explanation for why the men of your village were wearing the crimson color of fresh blood, or why some were laying in broken heaps on the ground. They were in agony, shrieking in deafening decibels. The healer in you wanted to stop everything you were doing to aid them, but the child in you wanted to reach Mary first.

You did what your heart wanted and ran for Mary.

Approaching her house, the flames had not yet approached. It wasn’t burned to ash, nor was it in shambles. Instead, one large man had Mary in their hold by each of her arms as she attempted to fight him off while another ransacked her home.

“Mary!” you shouted, helpless. The man’s head whipped in the direction of your voice, cruel eyes narrowing in on you. Mary joined him, fearful eyes catching yours.

The sight of the men was foreign to you, but you’d recognize heartless monsters such as them anywhere. They were mere stories shared between the village, often used to scare the children away from the sea for their own protection. The village was so small, nobody had ever worried about the stories happening to them.

Pirates. Cruel, greedy, malicious. Like dogs off a leash, bearing sharp teeth and frothing at the mouth. They raided innocent villages for their supply, leaving it in disarray once they got what they wanted. Sick bastards who deserved punishment, yet slipped away in the roaring waves of the sea before it could be handed to them.

“Let go of her,” you pleaded with the pirate, hands clasped together. You knew you couldn’t fight him off, even if you tried. Mary was just as powerless as you, and old age was starting to catch up to her. She was fragile, and with the way he was handling her, you feared she’d get harmed.

The mysterious pirate continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression. He grunted in annoyance, loosening his grip on Mary but not quite releasing. It did nothing to comfort you, and that feeling grew tenfold when the other pirate stepped out of Mary’s home, locking in on you.

“Grab tha’ one, will ye, Gaz?” the one holding Mary huffed, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head. The other, Gaz, nodded in return, sauntering up to you like death on wheels. You needed to run, to escape, but he was too quick. Before you knew it, Gaz’s arms had wrapped around your waist, hauling you over his shoulder like a doll.

Flailing in his embrace did nothing. His grip was firm, arm locked on to you impossibly tight, and the punches you threw to his back seemed almost comical to him.

“Find anythin’?” the other asked Gaz. Gaz shook his head, releasing a frustrated exhale.

As chaos ensued around you, the two men began dragging you and Mary along towards the heart of the village where you were moments ago. Gaz’s grip loosened on you, before he dropped you to the damp ground carelessly. You landed with a huff, soreness soaring through your back.

Looking around, you realized that many of the townsfolk were in the same condition. Lined up besides one another, pleading for their lives, weeping with ugly snot running from their noses. Mary was beside you, shaken but unharmed from the looks of it. She stared at you with heart wrenching fright, and you wished you could’ve told her things would be okay.

But they weren’t. The village was set ablaze, its people lined up like prisoners with a group of pirates looming over them like reapers prepared for death. The peace from this afternoon had vanished, and there would be no return. Things would be forever different, if they spared your lives.

Gaz and the other pirate stood side by side as they looked over the townsfolk. Another was beside them, face distorted by a ghastly mask that resembled a skull. It sent shivers down your spine. It was as if you truly were looking death in the eye.

A fourth pirate stepped forward, eyes that should’ve been considered kind instead staring down every last villager with heated observation. He was silent as he paced slowly, hands behind his back, the fire casting a doomful glow upon his face.

“My name is Captain Price,” he introduced. His voice was booming with authority. “If you do not wish to aid us, then we do not wish to aid you. The choice is yours.”

Sweat beaded your hairline from both the flames of fire scorching around you, and the anxiety that spiked inside of you. Your eyes locked in on the Captain, watching his every movement, noting the way he stood tall and proud, showcasing the true power he held. The villagers and you were helpless against him and his crew, and he was ensuring that it was obvious.

“We seek a medic. If you cannot provide that to us, then you are of no use to me,” he explained, pausing his pacing. He took in the sight of every grim face. Once he landed on you, you shivered, looking away in a panic. “I will ask you once. Who is your medic?”

Deafening silence filled the air apart from the flickering flames that threatened to consume us whole. Nobody dared to speak a word, nor did they look away from Price. It was as if time had stopped and everybody froze.

Price sniffed, glancing around the villagers. Though he seemed collected in his behavior, you could recognize the impatience from the way his lip twitched and his shoulders tensed.

“The Captain asked you lot a question,” Gaz sneered in defense. Price spared him a glance before returning focus. Still, nobody spoke for the next few moments.

It wasn’t until Price’s hand drifted to his waist, hand coming to rest on a handgun that the air shifted into one of unease. The sight of it made you sick to the stomach. Handguns were a specialty only the wealthy or military could acquire. They were rare and expensive, a luxury to some, but deadly. One click, and your soul was taken right from your body.

Price grasped the handgun, holding it in his hand as if it were a toy. He stepped up to the line of villagers, peering down at them like useless pigs. The sight of the gun had women quivering in fear, tears streaming down their rosy cheeks. The men were men no more, stripped away of their masculinity and replaced with little boys, unable to protect their kin and fulfill their duty as defenders.

The gun was raised, threat building with every inch. The barrel pointed right at the horror-stricken face of the very man who intruded on your home earlier – Lucius. Gone was the cocky mockery of a man, replaced with a whimpering boy who feared death just as much as another. He was shaking, shoulders slouched in attempts to appear small.

“We will try this again,” Price demanded. The cold barrel pressed to the temple of Lucius’ head and you could do nothing but sit and watch, unsure of what to feel. Sure, he kept a sour taste in your mouth simply from being. But to wish death on him for being a hindrance was distasteful. “Who is your medic?”

Lucius wouldn’t possibly rat you out. He was a selfish man who took what he wanted, but surely, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t that cruel.

The coward’s shaky hand lifted to point in your direction. It felt as if he were throwing a sharp dagger at you, the way he exposed the occupation you’d been so meticulously working hard towards.

Eyes shifted towards you, sending an ice cold burst through your veins. They were prodding, dissecting you from head to toe as if you were an experiment for them to test on. It was unsettling, sinking your heart down to the pits of your stomach.

“You’re the medic?” Price questioned. He hadn’t lowered his weapon, keeping it firm against Lucius’ skull, but his attention had shifted to you. His eyes weren’t warm and kind like they were shaped out to be, but rather cold, glossed over with hardened hostility.

“I–” You swallowed. “I am merely a medic in practice. I am not a professional, I do not know proper teachings–”

“Ghost,” he interrupted, whipping his head to look at the masked man. Ghost was a brute of a man, a shadow that would’ve been consumed by the night if not for the illuminating glow coming from the village in flames. “Take her so she can gather her things. She’s coming with us.”

Dread struck you right to the core. You wanted to beg for them to leave you be, to explain that you weren’t what they wanted. You didn’t want to be stripped from your home and tossed onto a ship with no clue of where your next destination was. These men were dangerous, seeping pure rancor and poisoning the very ground you laid on. Leaving with them was a death sentence.

Ghost said nothing, and even if he did, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it from the subtle weeping from villagers beside you. His strides were long as he approached you, and without warning, his rough hand grasped your elbow, hauling you to your feet. The force startled you, throwing you off balance but his grip was tight enough to keep you grounded.

As you were dragged away towards the direction of your home, you could hear an uproar of cries. Terror struck the village once more and you could do nothing but accept fate for what it was. You wanted to turn your head to see what was becoming of your people, but you were scared. Scared of what you may see, scared of what Ghost will do if you look.

You kept your gaze forward, legs moving quickly to match the heavy pace of Ghost, guiding the lion into your den.

Arriving at your home, you were hit with the realization that it would be the last time entering it. Your hard work would vanish, the space you made into your security blanket would be destroyed, burned to ash once the flames settled. It tore your heart to bits.

“Hurry up,” Ghost gruffed, his voice gravelly and hoarse. Just like Price, it was assertive, leaving no room for discussion.

You made haste to pack your essentials into a flimsy satchel. It wouldn’t be able to fit much, and you could only pray they would at least provide you with bare necessities on your voyage to hell. In your satchel went your journal, the cluttered jars of experimental medicines, your favorite quill, and a daring change of clothes. If Ghost thought you to remain alive long enough to have the opportunity to redress, he didn’t express it.

“That all?” he huffed, and when you nodded, he seized your arm again. “Let’s go.”

The sight of your home became a distant memory the farther you went from it. Already your body was pleading to go back, to curl up in bed and pretend that all of this was a sick dream. You regretted not making your cot of more use, sleeping in that damned wooden chair instead.

By the time you arrived back at the town center, it was like witnessing purgatory itself. Bloodshed with the bodies of your people laid across the ground like animals tossed aside. Useless and unworthy, that was how these pirates treated them. Though your people had never been kind to you, this was a fate you would never have wished upon them.

Their faces were unrecognizable as you took them in. Some burned, some beaten so bloody their faces had swelled into ugly monsters, some slain. The sight of the deceased made you want to vomit, bile piling in your throat and threatening to expel out.

Your eyes frantically searched for Mary, aching to know if they had given her mercy. She was a frail woman, withering with her age. She was innocent.

You couldn’t find her familiar face, and you weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or dreadful.

The three other pirates were standing around one another. They were unphased by the actions they had bestowed upon the village, as if it was another simple day. It unnerved you, rattling your bones with burrowing fear. When they noticed the return of you and their crewmate, they wasted no time in guiding you off to the small port in which their ship had been docked.

It was large, wood tainted with brown so dark it could’ve been black. It blended in with the abyss of the sea, which you realized was entirely the point. Unnoticed and concealed.

Ghost didn’t let go of you as he helped you on to the ship, nor did he release once your bare feet connected with the wood. It was just as restricting as before, causing a light pulse to form in your bicep where he held you.

“Take her to the chambers until we figure out the next step,” Price ordered Ghost, nodding his head in the direction of raggedy doors. You could only imagine what lies behind them, waiting for you.

Ghost grunted in response, tugging you with him and having you stumble on your own two feet. The wood was rough and sharp on your soles, slicing tiny splinters into your skin. Shoes weren’t needed in your village unless it was winter, and even then, the grass was always enough to consume them in warmth. Now, you were regretting not owning a pair.

“In you go,” Ghost uttered once he had the door pulled open, shoving you down a small flight of stairs towards the lower section of the ship. It was dingy and unlit, the only light seeping in being the moonlight from a tiny window.

Once inside, you recognized your new home as a cell. Barred and caged in, being tossed inside carelessly. There was nothing but a cot and a bucket to relieve yourself. It was completely empty and void of comfort.

Ghost shut the cell door, locking it with an annoyed grunt. You hadn’t even noticed him pull out the set of keys to open it for you, nor had you noticed when he locked you in. You watched as he thrusted the keys in his back pocket, the only evidence of its presence being the small glint of metal from the moon’s light.

“Wait!” you cried out when he turned to leave. You scrambled on the cell floor, hands wrapping around the cold bars. He paused his walk, throwing you a look of disinterest. “You can’t just leave me in here!”

Ghost snorted in what you dared to say amusement. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, princess. You’ll be of use soon enough.”

Ignoring your pleas, he stepped up the stairs and returned to the main deck, shutting the door and leaving you utterly alone. Silence filled the air apart from the calming waves of the sea, though it did nothing to soothe you. You were helpless, deprived of any form of escape.

You spent what felt like hours on the floor of your cell, weeping into your own hands, silently praying to a God to release you. When nobody came to your rescue, you knew it was far too late for a miracle. This would be your new life, your new home, for as long as they kept you alive.

Part of you wished they would’ve just killed you instead.

[beta-therapy]

Why can't betas just "act more alpha?"

We have all seen what it’s like when a woman interacts with a man who she wants. The man brings forth dominance and confidence, which pairs with the woman’s submissiveness and desire like yin and yang. You can easily tell that the two are destined to have sex (which can be thought of as the physical manifestation of these emotions).

A lot of men might witness that and think “Wow, I want a woman to look at me the same way she was looking at him,” then decide to go out and approach a woman in exactly the same way. He would try to carry that same bold, dominant energy he saw earlier.

But instead of responding with submission and desire, the opposite happens. The woman steps back and delivers harsh criticism, like “I don’t give out my number to strangers, so stop acting like you’re entitled to it.”

The attempt at being charming, confident, and forward (traits that make a woman go head over heels for a man) ended up backfiring when a beta tried them, and it made the woman repulsed. Why? Because it’s not possible to “learn” confidence.

Imagine if all the things that women find irresistible about the men they sleep with could simply be learned and implemented by anyone. Imagine if there was a blueprint that anyone could follow on how to seduce women, and the only thing separating alphas and betas is that the alphas followed the blueprint.

Then we would all just follow the blueprint and have a ton of sex! There would no longer be this disparity where sex is abundant for some men and extremely scarce for the rest.

But that disparity—caused by the tendency of females to all flock to a minority of males for sexual reproduction—has been a fundamental characteristic of our species for millions of years. There’s no blueprint that allows one to cheat human nature. A beta cannot put himself into the category of men that women desire by simply mimicking alpha behavior.

You can try to, but you’ll see that any woman will immediately know what you’re doing. Your body language will be slightly off. The expression on your face will be slightly off. The words you’re saying will seem canned and rehearsed. A woman will notice your fake charisma right away, and she will not be one bit attracted to it. Instead of fantasizing about you, she will be figuring out how to end the conversation.

Some men have the ability to bring out the dangerous, adventurous, desirous, and hedonistic spirit in women, thus creating that yin and yang polarity mentioned in the beginning. Most men don’t have that power, and actually have a hard time getting women to have sex with him, if he can at all.

Some naïve advice might be “bro, you just need to flirt more and touch her physically to build sexual tension.” Yeah, good luck with that, especially with a woman who’s just not having it at all. That’s a good way to get her to smack you in face and call the police on you.

Indeed, if you try to tamper with the fabric of Nature, it always will snap back and hit you in the face sooner or later.

Now we see that the question posed in the beginning is answered by a basic law of human nature:

It is not possible for any man to simply “learn” the things that make women sexually aroused, for if these traits could be faked, women would not find them attractive because they would no longer say anything positive about a man’s suitability for genetic propagation.

And to clarify, women don’t consciously think about any of this. But their interest in sexual partners is an unconscious process, and the natural law just put forth is a very strong, useful explanation of this unconscious process in the female mind.

The correctness of the law is obvious. Think about every one of the things women go for: confidence, charisma, money, status, sexual history, social dominance, blah blah blah... None of them can be easily faked, and in particular, faking them all at once is damn near impossible. Each of these things say something deep and substantial about you as a man. They each are like games with winners and losers, and the key point is that a loser can’t fake being a winner. That’s exactly why women find these things so attractive.

[genderqueerdykes]

the reason why trannies HAVE to stick together is because at the end of the day, cis people can and will prioritize their needs over ours. i witnessed a fight that broke out at one of my local gay bars where a cis male drag queen attempted to assault one of the two transfeminine security guards because he had too much to drink and had apparently has trauma from assaulted before by a cis woman's cis male friends after being called a faggot.

... so he thought it was appropriate to try to pass this trauma on to someone more marginalized than him. i got involved and his cis female friends decided to try to tell me to back off because it "didn't involve me." i noticed the only people telling me to back off and stop protecting the two trans women security guards... were cis. all of the trans people who gathered to see what was happening jumped in to help keep those women safe, and neither of those women told us to leave, or that it didn't involve us.

of course it involved me, because i don't just stand idly by and watch cis people attack my trans sisters. it will ALWAYS involve me.

i don't care what his thought process was or what was going through his mind- there is never an excuse to pass your queer trauma on to someone else- especially when you are cis and that person is trans. events like this just go to show that queer people are still capable of queerphobia.

that guy got his ass thoroughly beat, by the way, and is permanently banned from that bar. he accomplished nothing and lost everything.

please learn from this fool and check any and all desire for queer infighting at the door and understand that we HAVE to be here for each other. trans women, men, wo/men, nonbinary people, genderqueer people, gnc people, agender people, multigender people, crossdressers, transsexuals, transvestites, every stripe of trans person HAS to have ALL of their trans siblings' backs, no matter what we identify as, because a lot of cis people really struggle to prioritize our needs or treat us as humans, really.

[thevillainswhore]

Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

Pairing: Stalker!IT/tech!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

(snippets/mentions of Carter Bazien x F!Reader and Ending, Beginnings!Frank x F!Reader)

Summary: Bucky, the IT and technology expert of your office, has been secretly obsessed since the moment he set his sights on sensitive, naive, little you. But, your only fault is your repetitive ability to get your heartbroken by fuck boys. So, naturally, he has to do whatever it takes to make you see he’s perfect for you… right?

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Stalking, mentions of smut (p in v, male masturbation) violence, grievous bodily harm, dark elements, possessive behaviour, hacking, reader is very naive, Bucky is a hell of a warning here (will add more with the upcoming chapters) PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS - THIS IS A DARK FIC!!!

A/N: We are finally here!! 😭 incase anyone doesn’t remember, I teased this fic a longgg time ago and it makes me so happy to announce its now live 🥹 as mentioned before this is a multi part story - I’m aiming for 3 parts but it could be more with me who knows 🤣 I also changed the my moodboard bc my last one did not include inclusivity and that is the goal here 💗

So now onto my appreciations ❤️ first of all I need to thank @mickeyhenrys for helping with the fic title - she’s a genius and I’m so thankful! Next, I need to thank @sgt-seabass for the help with the IT/cyber security aspect of things - she was absolutely amazing with providing all the information I needed and I’m super grateful for it. And last and certainly not least… my beautiful @rookthorne. my god I can’t even begin to thank you for all the help you’ve given me on this. To beta’ing this fic, helping me a lot with my moodboard even when I was a pain the ass 🤣 and just supporting me in general with my crazy ideas - this fic sprouted from our brainstorming and looking back from then to where this has flourished now is amazing 💗 thank you for being the beautiful person you are and inspiring me to grow as a writer. I love you so much 🥹

Now onto the fic, please enjoy the start of this crazy, wild ride and good luck - you’re gonna need it… 👀

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

Bucky glances over at you through the window that seperates the two of you, gushing about your new date already. It took you a week, maybe two, to get over the last guy. And here you were, yet again, in the same conversation with the same co-worker, debating about which dress you were gonna wear tonight. 

Did it matter anyway? 

The same shit happens every time. You go out with a new prize idiot, get laid, wait for them to text you back (spoiler: they never do), and you sit there, crying and wondering where you went wrong. 

It was frustrating. 

You only ever go out with the conventional ‘fuck boy’. The same three-piece suits and quiffed hair that looks like it’s been cemented to their skull with product and arrogance, both in equal measure. 

When were you going to get it? You choose the wrong type of guy, every single time. And yet, you wonder why they never stick around long enough to make things official, or to settle down. 

You were gullible; so naive.

The perfect girl that Bucky has kept his sights set on from that very first day that you begun working in the same office.

That’s when you walked into my life, Angel. 

It wasn’t all that new for it to rain in New York. Heels clicked and splashed through the deep puddles of the pavement, and leather briefcases bumped against each other in the chaos of the crowds as Bucky made his way to work.

He found he didn’t so much mind the repetitive routine – his life had never been exciting. It gave him peace of mind to hear all the usual sounds and to witness the usual frenzied rush from his run down apartment all the way to his office.

 

He liked his job, truly. It’s what he’s always excelled best in and it’s what has kept him in his comfort zone. There was never no real need to talk to people as all communication or pleas for help were addressed in an email. Those who didn’t email always dragged themselves to his office and slammed their technology down on his desk, grunt or curse at him, before primly walking back out again. 

That would anger most people – the blatant disregard for his existence and the treatment similar to that of a scolded dog, but Bucky’s been there for ten years now, and over those many, many days, he had gotten used to it. 

It was a bonus, however, that nobody questioned him once on how he managed to fix every problem with their device with so little information as a curse and a demand to get it working.  

Pushing the door open, Bucky expects to be walking into a normal day at the office. Paying no notice to the hustle and bustle of his colleagues at work.

That is until he’s stopped in his tracks. 

The surprise of seeing the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on; a woman that was sunshine and everything he dreamed of personified standing in the lobby. He watched you speak to anyone that paused to say hello. 

The errant thought of such an innocent bunny smiling for all that gave her attention made his cock twitch in his pants. He wanted to give you that attention that you craved.

Never had he been so entranced by and enamoured in anyone. He thinks he could stay like this forever, almost blown over by his new found obsession that made his hands shake and the whole volume of blood in his body to rush to his rapidly swelling cock.

That obsession called and rooted for him to take the few steps and cover the distance to reach you, when he was abruptly shunted forward by another body slamming into his back. 

He spun around, ready to curse the person for being so oblivious, when he saw Brock. “Hey man, why the fuck were you just stand- Oh, I take it you’ve seen the new hire, hot isn’t she?” 

The predatory smile on Brock’s mouth physically made him recoil.  Looking Brock up and down, clear disgust in the sneer and glare of his expression, Bucky turned and stalked away towards the stairs in a bid to head to his office. 

His closest safety net, the office where he spent his days, came into view and he slammed open the door, only to fall back onto it, his breath coming in sharp pants. Wildly, he glances around him and then out of the blinds that shroud his office from onlookers. Nobody was paying attention to his moment of crisis and doubt, except, he finds you glancing over your cubicle wall. 

You send a small wave, one of which Bucky can’t believe is directed at him, and you smile broadly – a kind gesture. He can’t remember the last time someone smiled at him like that. 

Bucky hastily looks away and strides over to his desk, adjusting the sudden tent of his slacks before he turns to sit in his desk chair to start his day. 

Who the fuck is she? 

The day starts slow, each task as mundane as the last, when you finally get a chance to talk to Sasha, your favourite co-worker. “I really think he’s going to be the one this time.” You can’t stop grinning, wiggling in your seat from excitement to be going out with Frank this weekend – the party that you met him at still fresh in your mind. 

“Girl, you said that last time! With... What was his name again?” Sasha groans, her chair swivelling so she could face you fully. You stare at her with a furrow in your brow while she stumbles to remember the name. “Chad? No, I don’t think that was it… Chris?” 

“His name was Carter.” There's heartbreak evident in the way your voice turns to a solemn whisper when speaking of him, and your eyes start to water as you begin to think about how your previous date left you high and dry after your night together – only to ghost you the next morning. Your lips start to tremble at the memory. “And I thought we said we weren’t going to speak about him anymore.” 

Sasha notices your dejected expression. “Shit honey, l’m sorry. I just want you to be happy.” You nod once, wiping your cheek with your palm. “Car-” She hesitates, and then frowns. “He-who-shall-not-be-named was a rich asshole, he doesn’t deserve you and he can choke on a dick.”

The crass statement shocks you. “Sasha!” you admonish, glancing around the office for anyone milling about that may have overheard. Although you were never one to bad mouth, you couldn’t help the small giggles spilling out at her vulgar words. 

Sasha’s abrupt and scandalous nature has always been the exact opposite to your docile character, but she was the first true friend you had made in the office – always looking out for you, taking care of you, and with your doe-eyed persona, the men can’t help but desire to have a piece of you. 

It is a blessing that she always knew how to pick you back up when you were down, no matter how many times you would come to her in tears over the same problem. 

“Anyway, I promise this one is different,” you promise. The sadness that gripped you a second before fades with the humorous nature of your friend. Sasha shoots you a look. “I didn’t even match with him on Tinder! We met at that party–the one I told you about, Daphne’s?”

“I remember,” Sasha murmurs, nodding. 

The memory flashes across your mind, and you shake your head slightly. “He looked so silly with the little tiara on his head. He came up to me and we talked a little–said I looked really pretty and that we should meet up sometime,” you explain, almost imploringly – you desperately want her to understand that it was a good thing. “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it–for me to get myself out there?”

Pride makes your voice strong, unwavering in it’s conviction. Stepping out of your your social circle is a huge step, and by the softening in Sasha’s gaze, she thinks so, too. 

The night you met Frank swirls in your mind, clouding it as you stare dreamily at the wall beside Sasha’s head.

The party was in full swing – loud cheers and clinking bottles and glasses filled the night air, while the pounding bass music rattled your chest. Your friend, Daphne, had left to go smoke in the corner, abandoning you to your own devices by the pool. 

Fairy lights had been strung up from pole to pole above you and you were admiring them, when Frank caught you by surprise.

“Hey doll,” he greeted, and you glanced at the six foot Prince Charming in a wool coat and tiny tiara. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone in the corner?” 

Frank had thrown you a dashing smile and you found you couldn’t maintain eye contact with his intense gaze – you swore you fell in love on the spot.

To say you were flustered would be an understatement. “M-Me?” 

Frank almost looked amused. “Well, just between me and you dollface… I don’t see anyone else nearly as pretty as you here.”  

As the night went on, Frank continued to sweep you off your feet. You genuinely had no clue how desperate you made him over your sweet little dress riding up your thighs when you fiddled with the the hem. Or when you started to feel shy and you crossed your arms to try and hide yourself – only to squeeze your tits together. It gave him the perfect image of how they would look bouncing up and down on his cock. 

The way he stared at you so sweetly, acting as the perfect gentleman made the butterflies in your stomach swoop and flutter up a storm. You had planned a date with him at the end of the night and you were beyond excited. 

Snapping out of your daydream, you focus back into the present, aware enough of your surroundings to see Sasha clicking her fingers sharply in front of your face making you blink. “Hello? There she is!” She sits back and rolls her eyes. “Jesus girl, I was calling your name for ages. Where did that cute head of yours wander off to this time?” 

“Sorry! I just got caught up in Frank again,” you sigh, dreamily. 

Sasha scoffs. “C’mon, he can’t be that cute. Show me a photo of him.”

You clap your hands and squeal, rushing to search through your bag for your phone to show her just how lucky you are to have someone as wonderful as Frank interested in you. Scrolling through the photos you’d taken that night, you finally find the one you couldn’t stop admiring; him with that silly tiara sitting atop his soft, fluffy hair that you could imagine running your hands through all day, wrapped in a snug jacket with a cigarette between his fingers and blowing out smoke the side of his perfect lips. 

His eyes fixed intently on one thing. You. 

The image sends a shiver down your spine, and before you get too carried away, you turn your screen to face Sasha. 

After a whole minute of considertory silence, she finally speaks up, her voice aweful. “Holy fucking shit, babe. I wanna lick his face.” 

Your jaw drops. “Sasha, oh my god, you can’t just say that!” Laughter threatens to bubble over and your cheeks heat in response.

“Watch me,” Sasha teases, and you both dissolve into laughing fits.

Bucky is seething. He doesn’t think his teeth could be grating together any harder; grinding to dust until his jaw clicks. While your laugh is melodic to his ears, and his heart leaps and bounds at the sound of your voice, even muted from his vantage point of his office, he saw how upset you looked when your co-worker mentioned him. 

Carter. 

Even thinking his name gets his blood boiling. But, he wills himself to calm down. To just breathe. There was no point in getting worked up over that spoiled prick anymore, he’s dealt with after what he did to you –  the very lengths Bucky had to go to get that video Carter took on his phone deleted. 

You, the not so innocent whore on your knees for someone who wasn’t him, begging for Carter’s dick down your throat until you were suffocating; saliva drooling from your chin and dripping down onto your heaving tits.

Bucky can feel his cock twitching in his trousers at the thought of you being so submissive. Pity floods him – you didn’t even realise how Carter had not only ignored your texts that morning, but he had also planned to send that precious gift you had so willingly given to him, to all of his friends and ultimately ruin your life.  Leaving it in shambles for you to pick up the debris of your professional career and sociality with so little care.

Bucky wasn’t the most pleased with you after seeing that video in the first place. It was such a foolish decision to trust and allow that sleazebag to film you. 

He took it upon himself to remove every trace of the video. After all, he was a good person, what a man should be.  

Such a good man that he paid a visit to Carter, leaving him with a few of his own gifts. A black eye, fractured skull, and a break in his right femur that may, or may not have, resulted in him taking residence in the local intensive care unit fighting for his life.

“All I want is for you to be happy. And who better to make you happy than me?” Bucky wonders quietly at his desk, the door to his office wide open so he can hear you chatting to your friend. “I would treat you so good–dote on you every hour of every day, never let you out of my sight, either.”

The next train of thought is one he will not voice aloud, but the vision of him fucking you hard and rough, just as you deserve, until you cried for more – for all of what he could give. 

“You’re better off with me,” Bucky grumbles. His lips turn down into a grimace and he glares at the cubicle wall that separated you from him. “You just don’t know it yet, bunny.”

Nevertheless, here you are, flaunting your latest boy toy off to your friend. 

The pencil he’s been tapping absentmindedly on his desk stops suddenly and small pieces of wood splinters by the second until it snaps in half,  almost capturing your attention – head whipping side to side in search of the noise until you give up and go back to your conversation. 

Pain laces through his hand when the wood scratches his palm, reddening lines etching themselves in retaliation for his daydreaming.

He’s got to be more careful with his frustrations. 

You have hardly ever looked in his direction, let alone spoken a single word to him. Why would you? Not many people did, if he is honest with himself. His shoulder-length dark hair that is always covered by the same black cap in combination with his piercing and brooding stare didn’t give off the best impression, or invite conversation. 

Bucky was not a popular man, even thinking back to his early school years. He was always considered the loner, the nerd, the creep. No sisters or brothers to grow up with; distant parents who paid no mind to him or bothered to foster and nuture his affinities. 

The lonliness of his childhood paved the way to the depths of his desperation. Intelligence was something he had an abundance of, and weaponising the skills of his cyber skills was an underutilised talent of every one of his past employs. 

It never assuades or lessens the burden of need for affection. A craving that naws like a festering wound in his barren heart, for something that could make up for the miserable nights of self reflection and doubt; wondering why he was never enough for his parents, or popular at school where the girls would fawn over him.

Something for his own; to be just his and unable to be taken from him, not by anybody. 

I’m right here, Angel. You just don’t ever see me. 

Bucky has done nothing short of pine after you from afar; stealing glances and furtive wanders to get close in any way he can. 

He knows you wouldn’t go out of your way to talk to him – you don’t run in the same circles and you are definitely not socially compatible. That doesn’t stop him from imagining how soft your skin must be, or how flawlessly your body would melt against his as he railed you into his bed. Your heavenly little cries of his name, breathless chants pleading him to “Keep going!” and “Don’t stop!” never leave his mind. They fuel his needy desires at night until he can get the real thing, whimpering your name until his voice is hoarse as he fucks his fist over and over and over – the thought that it was your hand or your pillowy lips guiding him into ecstacy pushes him to the very brink of insanity. 

The dreams will do for now, he thinks privately as he stares at you through the glass pane of his office wall, straight to your cubicle, the sound of your laughter echoing down the hall and muffled through the glass. He’s managed for the last six months since he first saw you, it’s fine. 

Impatience chips away at his resolve, though, and his fuse is shortening by the day.  No matter what it takes, no matter who you think is good for you right now, Bucky will have you, and when he does… He’s not ever letting you go.

[acourtofthought]

Contains spoilers for all series:

The Cassian pov hinted at his bond with Nesta.

The Azriel pov hinted at his bond with Gwyn.

There were hints for the Rowaelin bond but it wasn't confirmed for a few books.

Hints for the Feysand bond.

Hints for a LoA and Helion bond.

Hints for a Ruhn and Lidia bond.

Even possible hints for a Mor and Eris bond.

And so far, we only have 3 out of 7 confirmed bonds from those mentioned above.

If SJM wants to write a rejected mates story, she's got options. But you know what she currently only has one of?

Elucien is the only pairing who readers got a confirmed bond right out of the gate for, something that makes their bond very unique compared to others.

So why would the author use two of her "never happened before" scenarios and give them both to Elucien? An immediate snapping of the bond AND a rejected mates story?

I think it would make more sense to explore each of those setups independent of one another because they're both so angsty on their own that there's no need to double up on the torment for a single pairing.

A rejected mating bond means that both parties will forever feel the tug to one another and additionally may result in the male being destined to suffer on a level the female might not.

A bond snapping immediately for two characters who are strangers, one who was engaged to another and one who believed he had a mate but witnessed her death is an entirely different, but no less angsty, situation.

For the first and only time, we have the chance to read a characters POV as they're fully aware of their bond before possibly falling in love. A chance to see the inner turmoil as it remains unaccepted (something most would have loved to have Rhys's POV on).

We already had some of that in ACOWAR and it was everything. Lucien fighting his instincts, his concern for Elain, his longing, his guilt over Jesminda, his sorrow and realization that Elain did not seem to want him.

A chance to see his frustration after two years, then the tentative hope as Elain begins to soften towards him, followed by the euphoria of falling in love at long last. A chance to see how Elain is influenced by the bond though she's trying to fight it.

That's angst the right way. Not two years of suffering only to have that compounded by one or both suffering the effects of a rejected bond after it all. That storyline would just be depressing and unfulfilling.

Is it a reach to say that SJM felt the bond snapping immediately was such an important storyline to explore that she gave Lucien his own POV in Feyre's trilogy? Cassian and Az got a bonus chapter, sure, but those still remain a surprise to some who don't realize they exist (I see it all the time, where people comment "What bonus chapter?!" and it usually takes someone being in the fandom to realize there is).

Lucien's POV, however, was read by everyone who read the ACOTAR series.

Every reader of the series knows how he's struggling with his mating bond instincts. Every reader of the series knows that he couldn't breathe because she was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen. And yes, every reader of the series knows he's also finding it difficult to grasp that the female he was confident did love him did not turn out to be his mate while his actual mate was in love with and engaged to someone else.

Not every reader knows that Az wanted to get down on his knees to "taste" Elain, not every reader knows how jealous he is over not having a bond, not every reader knows that SJM included mate coded language for Gwynriel. A majority? Absolutely. But not all.

The author wanted each and every single reader to know how much Lucien is struggling by giving him his own POV in the book and not only with his bond, with feeling like he's not worth anything, for the sadness over not finding the home he hoped to have in Tamlin's court, for the "utterly personal" things he's keeping to himself.

When the majority rules knowing that it's LUCIEN who is struggling the most over his bond with Elain versus Az who you'd really not know was struggling over not getting a mate unless you're a part of the fandom and aware of the bonus chapter, I feel like Lucien's HEA with Elain does take precedence over Azriel ending up with her. It's not that Az's POV doesn't matter, all bonus chapters matter, but it doesn't matter more than what was included in every single copy of ACOWAR that was ever released.

And for the arguments that I'm focusing on what Lucien wants over what Elain wants, I've said it before and I'll say it again. Elain only wants what the author decides for her, she is not independent of SJM. So if the author wants Elain and Lucien to be happy together, that's what she'll be writing. As stated above, she is the one that wrote Lucien's pov and suffering over his past and from the effects of the bond into the actual book, not Az's.

[gwynniethenymph]

Do you think so? Part 1.

Pairing: Azriel x Gwyneth Berdara.

Word count: 1212 words.

Notes: Sooo... here is jealous Azriel and a one shot that accidentally became a two chapter story! I'm very nervous about posting this since it's the first story I write in years, but I'm also very excited. Constructive criticism is very welcomed! Don't know if I should post this in ao3, but I'll think about it. Also, Azriel is very, very bad at feelings in this first part.

~~~

"Is it normal for the sun to be so... bright?” Cassian complained for the fifth time in an hour. Azriel only stared at him. His shadows writhed in agitation too, but there was little he could do.

The Summer Court offered oceans of the purest water and clear, hot days. Oddly enough, the Shadowsinger sometimes appreciated this kind of weather, though Illyrian leathers were unbearable in the heat. He missed his leathers.

Despite the initially pleasant atmosphere, the air around them crackled with raw power and fear. War was imminent, and so was betrayal, hence the week-long Courts Meeting. The Spymaster just couldn’t understand why war meetings were disguised as luxurious balls and quick alliances as amicable friendships.

“Courtier's shit,” Rhys had answered with a scoff. They needed to keep the common people calm while orchestrating swift relocations to the south, far from the borders between Spring and the Human Lands. The urgency of such activities was probably the only reason Tarquin tolerated Cassian's presence.

Azriel had plenty of work to do as well, trying to keep his High Lord informed of every glance and conversation. He sighed. It would be easier if that devilish, mischievous little nymph wasn’t so damn... distracting. And offensively good at her job.

With the growing popularity of the Valkyries Division and her remarkable contribution against the Illyrian Revolution, Gwyn had become a respected and well-known name across Prythian. According to Amren, she was also quick-witted, well-versed in history and politics, and "strikingly beautiful". Before understanding her line of thought, Azriel had agreed and added how good of a spy the priestess was.

As a result, Gwyn had been assigned to secure Tarquin's alliance and friendship. Considering how closely they danced at the moment, Azriel thought he might have to remind her of the "friendship" part. Or perhaps punch Tarquin and get himself banned from Summer.

It would be worth it, though.

The dark-skinned High Lord held the Valkyrie against his chest, one hand around her slim waist as they spun. The silk of Gwyn's gown resembled a cobalt ocean, the halter neckline exposing the toned muscles of her freckled arms. If she were closer, he would see her huge, mesmerizing eyes lined with gold and her pink, plump lips. She looked like a siren from the tales Azriel’s mother used to tell him—a beauty like no other, ready to enchant unsuspecting sailors and drag them to the depths of the sea.

Tarquin looked quite happy in his "sailor" position. Azriel would be happy too. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her, couldn't ignore the pang in his chest. Gwyn had become too important to him in the last few years, their time together reserved not only for training and sparring, but for the deepest conversations he’d ever had, for silly jokes and friendly flirting.

Well, he had believed the flirting was not that friendly anymore, but as Nesta and Emerie giggled and whispered about the dancing couple, the Shadowsinger concluded he must have been wrong. As that terrible, awful dance ended and Gwyn separated from the High Lord with a courtesy, Azriel found himself relaxing, his shoulders dropping for a mere moment before he realized how many heads turned towards her.

“Twenty and seven, Singer.”

“What?”

“Twenty and seven males turned their heads to look at Our Light, Singer. Would you be interested in knowing the number of females too?”

Azriel sighed. “No, thank you.”

“Twenty and three females turned their heads to look at Our Light, Singer.”

“Okay, no more counting.”

“This equals fifty heads turned. Dismissing, of course, the heads that didn’t need to be turned because they were already looking in Our Light’s direction, Singer. This includes your head, Singer.”

Azriel gritted his teeth. “Please go check on the Vanserras.”

“Of course, Singer.”

As his shadows went silent and the Spymaster sighed, Gwyn reached the group with a smile. The golden sunlight streaming through the tall, arched windows hit her eyes, making them seem like a gateway to the shallow seas of Adriata. Emerie and Nesta grabbed each of her arms and proceeded to gossip and giggle:

"Who could imagine Tarquin uses dancing as a form of foreplay?" Lady death grinned, mischievously.

Even the tips of Gwyn's ears went red, her eyes going wide "It- it was not! We just danced. Like... friends. Very good friends."

Emerie snickered wildly "I am your friend for longer and never received this type of treatment. You are hurting my feelings."

"Oh, shush. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, but I know, Gwynnie. He looked at you the same way I do when you look too pretty."

Gwyn's mouth went slightly agape. "Wouldn't that make the look even more... friendly?"

Cassian, who had been observing the conversation, pointedly looked at his mate and nodded. "Wouldn't it, Nesta?"

Caught in the act, Nesta cleared her throat before uttering a simple, "No". Gwyn considered her friend for a moment before shaking her head.

Azriel expected her to say the relationship with Tarquin - and, well, Nesta - was nothing but friendly. That their were all going insane and seeing things that weren't there. He expected her to shrug it off. Instead, Gwyn's eyes glinted with interest.

"I'm not going to dive into your last comment, but... You think so? That he looks at me... like that?"

The two Valkyries looked at Gwyn like she had just convinced Helion to give them a pegasus. Azriel's shadows were whispering about murder and something else the Spymaster couldn't quite catch given the zooming in his ears. His fists and jaw were clenched so tightly he feared it may break. She... she truly liked Tarquin?

"SO YOU LIKE HIM!"

As if it was possible, Gwyn went even more red. "Perhaps, but-"

Azriel couldn't help himself from murmuring "That's not what you should be worried about."

Gwyn's eyes found his "Oh. I- Sorry?"

He shouldn't be saying this. It was only meant to hurt her like he was hurting. But, again, he simply couldn't help himself. "I said you shouldn't be worried about silly romantic... whatever. You have a job to do, and seducing Tarquin is not a part of it."

Their small group went deadly silent, Nesta shooting death glares at him. "I... I was not trying to... seduce him. I'm doing my job perfectly well."

Between the hurt he saw in her eyes before, there was anger emerging. One he matched quite well. "Well, then keep your- your heart and feelings out of it. And your body at least a few inches separated from his."

This time, her mouth was fully agape. Gwyn stuttered from a moment, trying to find an answer, when Tarquin suddenly surged behind her.

"Gwyn? Is this a good moment? There's something I want to show you."

She turned around to face the High Lord and, before Azriel could growl at him or stop her, one of his shadows - the only one that actually listened to the Shadowsinger sometimes - nervously darted across his face, whispering about something about Beron.

Azriel turned around, scanning the room in search of the Autumn High Lord, only to find him having a mildly heated conversation with Helion. But when he returned to excuse himself from the group, Gwyn and Tarquin were gone.

[romione-trope-fest]

Let's Go

Fic Title: Let’s Go

Author Name: flaming-brown-witch

Selected Trope: Muggle AU, Soulmates

Brief Summary: Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley meet one magical night at a pub during their final year of uni.  

Word Count: 1864

Rating: T

Any Trigger Warnings: none

******

Even from across the bar, she could see how blue his eyes were. 

Hermione wasn’t exactly sure why she couldn’t stop staring. Sure, his eyes were captivating but she typically didn’t find freckled redheads attractive. Nor burly men looking as though raised on a farm. She preferred a slight and slender male physique, likely because she felt more in control that way. 

The stranger’s eyes flashed in her direction again, and she immediately jerked her head down. Then, almost by its own accord, Hermione’s gaze lifted again. They caught eyes once before the stranger turned to continue his conversation with his raven-haired, bespectacled friend and his friend’s girlfriend. A hint of a smirk emerged on the stranger’s face. Judging by their identically-hued hair and a shared quality in their easygoing demeanour, perhaps found in the ways they leaned against the bar or shook their shoulders as they laughed, Hermione wondered if the girl was the stranger’s sister. 

The stranger’s bespectacled friend said something to him, eliciting a mirthful punch to the shoulder. That hint of a smirk never really went away, even as the stranger kept his eyes trained on his two acquaintances.

Suddenly, the friend and the probable sister stood up and bid their farewells. As the couple moved towards her direction to reach the exit, the female redhead regarded Hermione with what appeared to be unabashed, gleeful curiosity. Her boyfriend behaved in the opposite, determinedly avoiding eye contact. He put two flat palms on his girlfriend’s cheeks and positioned her head away from Hermione. 

“What?” Hermione heard the girl say liltingly to her beau as they passed her. 

“Right, that’s my cue to leave, too, then,” said a voice from somewhere around Hermione’s right ear.  

Oh, crap. She had almost forgotten that she was with Parvati. Hermione swivelled in her friend’s direction. “What do you mean?”

Parvati raised an impish eyebrow. “Don’t think I hadn’t noticed you eye-bonking that ginger tree of a man for the past five minutes.” She jerked her head in the stranger’s direction. “Here’s your chance now that his mates are gone. Good luck, love you!”

Hermione grasped Parvati’s arm. “No, Parvati, don’t leave me—”

“He’s coming over, let go of me!”

Hermione swivelled again. Sure enough, the blue-eyed, red-haired stranger had left his seat and was rounding the corner of the bar, his gaze on Hermione now steady and uninterrupted.

Hermione swivelled back towards Parvati in a panic, but Parvati was already at arm’s length from the exit. Hermione took a deep breath. She reminded herself that this was exactly why she agreed to let Parvati drag her out that night. Hermione had been needing a viable distraction for quite some time. Finally, it seemed that she had found a solid candidate for the task.

Hermione slowly turned. Solid in more ways than one, she noted, craning her neck to fully take in his towering profile. Proximity revealed (to her relief) that he was better described as broad rather than burly, with a body that seemed more suited for competitive swimming or basketball than powerlifting. Freckles dotted almost every corner of his face and neck, disappearing into the collar of his maroon knit jumper. His eyes were nothing short of arresting up close. They shone with amusement from the interaction he had witnessed between her and Parvati. 

“Hi,” he smiled.

“Hi.” Hermione cursed herself for sounding so breathless. 

He pointed to her empty glass. “Can I buy you another drink?”

“Okay,” she said after a beat, smiling shyly.

He ordered Hermione another gin and tonic and another lager for himself before claiming Parvati’s vacated seat. 

The bartender was quick to fetch the beer. 

“Ah, cheers, mate,” the stranger said after settling on the stool and noticing the bottle held in his direction. He grabbed it and inclined it toward the bartender, who nodded graciously. 

The stranger set the bottle on the sticky counter and looked back at Hermione. 

“I’m Ron.” He extended a hand, and she took it, firm and calloused against her soft skin. She wondered if he was actually raised on a farm. 

“Hermione.”

“Her- Hermione? Hermione. Hermione.” It was as if he were moulding her name to fit exactly right in his mouth. He grinned at her. Two of his front teeth were crooked, angled symmetrically. They gave his smile an intriguing aspect of permanent mischief. “That’s an interesting name, Hermione.”

She grinned back, cheeks warm. She liked the ease with which his tongue was now able to wrap around the four syllables. 

“My mum’s an interesting person,” she shrugged. Worried that her meaning wasn’t clear, she added, “She’s the one who named me.”

Ron’s grin widened. “Yeah, somehow I got that.”

Hermione gave him a look that was both appraising and coy. The bartender placed her drink in front of her, and she thanked him before taking a sip. 

“Are you a student at Trogshaw?” she asked Ron.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah. I’m in my final year, studying law.”

“I’m in my final year, too. Business.”

“Ah, that explains it.”

Ron blinked, causing his gossamer eyelashes to flutter. His mouth twitched. “Explains what?”

“Lots of things,” said Hermione loftily. “But mainly why we’ve never met before.”

His mouth continued to turn upwards. “Are you sure about that? Seems like you’ve managed to figure out quite a lot about me in the, er, minute or so we’ve been talking.”

Hermione leaned slightly back with confidence. “I just know your type. Blokey, follows rugby like it’s a religion, makes a habit of chatting up girls at bars and carelessly discarding them when you’re done.”

“Wow. Impressive.”

Hermione smiled indulgently. 

“For your information,” countered Ron with a competitive glint in his eyes, “my religion is not rugby, it’s football. This is actually my first time chatting up a girl at a bar. I suppose blokey is debatable, depends on your definition.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “What are your thoughts about feminism?”

Without missing a beat, Ron stood up, turned his back to Hermione, and began marching toward the exit. Hermione’s mouth dropped open, but before she could fully react, he swung right back and sat down. He looked incredibly pleased with himself for the little act.

Hermione closed her mouth and mock-glared at him. “Now I really want to know what your thoughts are about feminism.”

Ron shrugged and took a swig of his drink. “I sympathise with feminist aims, I suppose. I just think sometimes the tactics go overboard.”

“Just sometimes?”

He smirked but his cheeks turned slightly pink. “A lot of times.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes and quipped smugly, “Can we agree on blokey then?" 

Still smirking, Ron took another swig of his drink. "You’re a hardcore feminist, I reckon.”

“Militant,” she said with relish. Then she shrugged. “But I have my critiques of the movement as well."  

Ron tilted his bottle towards Hermione. "A toast, then, to critiquing feminism.”

Hermione let out an incredulous laugh. “I am not toasting to that with a blokey white man." 

Hermione immediately worried if she went too far in referring to Ron’s race, but he seemed completely unfazed. His expression was instead contemplative. He attempted another toast. "Down with capitalism?”

She smiled. “Isn’t that a bit against your career path?" 

"Yeah, but we’re all hypocrites, innit?”

Her smile converted to laughter as she lifted her drink. “Cheers to the abject shittiness of human nature, then.”

Ron eyed Hermione’s periwinkle headband and matching cardigan. “Wouldn’t have pegged you as the type to swear.”

“Well, we’re both just breaking stereotypes tonight, aren’t we?”

Grinning, they clinked glasses and drank. Hermione set her glass on the counter and contemplated Ron with a bit of disbelief. It defied logic how effortless it was to be with him. Never before had she been able to drop pretences so quickly with someone. It gave her a hint of vertigo. She could barely drop pretences with people she’s known her entire life. 

Ron must have felt similarly. After a moment of matching Hermione’s gaze, he said, “I’m sorry. I swear this isn’t some chat or anything. But I really do feel like we’ve met before.”

Hermione arranged her features to look pointedly unimpressed. 

“Oh, come on,” said Ron, laughing. “When we first made eye contact…you…you didn’t feel it?”

“Feel what?” asked Hermione, her expression softening. 

Ron hesitated. “This, I dunno, recognition or something. Familiarity.”

Hermione simply stared at him. Ron looked down, a flush spreading across his cheeks like wildfire. “Sorry, just being a weirdo…”

“I felt it.”

Ron looked up, eyes as hopeful as they were intense. It was Hermione’s turn to flush. 

“But I’m sure we’ve never met before,” she asserted. There was no way she could ever forget those eyes.

Ron regarded her for a bit longer before saying, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He drained his bottle. “After you finish that, wanna get out of here?”

“And go where?”

Ron smirked at Hermione’s furrowed eyebrows. 

“My dungeon,” he said in a creepy voice, twiddling his long fingers together. He dropped his hands and his voice returned to normal. “No, my mate—" 

He stopped as soon as he registered the highly disconcerted look on Hermione’s face.

"Please,” he said in a constrained plea, “forget I made that stupid fucking comment. I’m sorry…I just…” He pulled at his hair and looked pained. “I have this, like, tendency to take things a bit too far and…we just met and even though I feel like I’ve known you, we don’t actually know each other at all, so there’s no way for you to know…my intentions. Blimey, what a nightmare, fucking cocked this up, haven’t I…?”

He leapt as if burned by his seat, drew out his wallet, and threw a twenty-pound note on the table. “Bye, Hermione,” he said without meeting her eyes. “It was honestly really nice meeting you. Hope you have a nice life…”

As he turned to leave, Hermione grabbed his arm. “You were going to say something about your mate?”

Ron beheld her hand for a moment, as if it were something fantastical, before looking up. “Dean, yeah. It’s his first art opening. He’s really good, actually, sort of a prodigy. That’s where my lot and I were headed and then I, er, saw you…”

Hermione lifted her drink to her lips, tipped her head back, and downed it. “Let’s go,” she said, hopping off her stool.

Ron’s eyes, already bulging from how quickly she finished her drink, widened further at her comment. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She shot him a wicked smile. “Somehow I feel like this night will be worth it even if you do leave me dying in a ditch somewhere.”

With that, Ron’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Hermione sauntered towards the exit, sensing him scrambling to keep pace. As the cold night air hit her face, Hermione felt a thrill she associated with the first time she set foot on The University of Trogshaw’s campus. Or being on a roller coaster teetering just over the brink before hurtling into the exhilarating unknown. She felt as though she stood at the precipice of an entirely new world, ready to immerse herself in an entirely new way of being.

[starletdust]

’implied’ sexualities !!!!!

yeah i did just kinda reblog a post about this but i wanna rant about it too esp after getting into an argument on tiktok about this ⁉️

i firmly believe some hsr / gi characters ARE genuinely implied to be gay. obviously due to censorship/legal troubles, they really can’t explicitly state ‘oh, this character is homosexual!’ — i’ve heard they even got into some trouble with hi3, but i don’t know how legitimate that was. [reasoning and whatnot under the cut]

however, they can still cover it up with ‘extremely close best friends who honestly know eachother more than they know themselves’, along with other implications (alrhough i will say that most of the ones off of the top of my head are mlm (and mayhaps i have a bit of a bias being a gay man myself)). we’ve only been blessed with one canon (again, mlm) ship, and that was dan feng & yingxing — two characters who, while their reincarnation may be, aren’t even playable. yes, characters can be best friends. but that doesn’t mean they all are, you cannot erase what has already been covered up. PLEASE

there are relationships, and characters individually, while truthfully rarer. enter: aventurine. i know he’s the one most often mentioned in this kind of thing. that’s for a reason.

first of all, likely the most obvious thing, is the peacock imagery plastered all over him. they often symbolize homosexuality; and yes, i know they can also represent wealth. he doesn’t need to be confined to just one of them. both meanings fit, and with the latter mentioned evidence, i think both are valid interpretations.

secondly, there’s an oscar wilde reference in some of his dialogue — ‘the happy prince’, described as man made of/adorned with gold and jewels (from what i remember; this is all being written in one sitting, without much evidence on the side, but i’ve yapped about this enough to remember at least a semblance of it) is referenced, not directly, but with an extremely similar description as aforementioned. i’m pretty sure there’s also some sort of foreign/faraway traveler mentioned somewhere too, which further solidifies this as evidence. (for anyone who doesn’t know, oscar wilde is a gay man. gay gay homosexual gay.)

thirdly, and a bit of a reach, is looking at his general interactions with each gender. if you compare what he says and how he acts around male and female chars, you can see his attitude around male characters is much more suggestive. an obvious example is his reference to sunday as “the most handsome man in penacony,” although i do think that can be interpreted in multiple ways. in his conversation with sparkle, she also calls him a gay pr0stitute. she doesn’t talk about him sleeping around in general. specifically with a man.

i think aventurine is simply one of the best examples for this kind of ordeal. another decent one is wriothesley — i won’t go very deep into it, but there’s the fact that henry wriothesley is heavily speculated to be a gay man, if not bisexual, but still homosexual nonetheless.

people have probably explained this kind of thing a million times before but i’ll say it again. not every character has to be gay, no. but some are most definitely implied. i’m sick of people saying “do you even know what implied means???” do YOU? do you know what it means? i’m pretty sure implied means that there’s a shit ton of evidence pointing towards it, but it isn’t explicitly stated. i’m pretty sure everything above is an example of something implied. implied does not mean canon, and vice versa. characters being straight are just as much of a headcanon of them being gay. stop trying to erase what little we have. i’m so done with it — same with the people who say that [insert female character] gets in the way of [insert mlm ship] which is why everyone hates her. it’s likely not everyone hates her. it’s also quite likely that she doesn’t even really get in the way of it, and you just want to have your straight ship more popular than a gay one with much more evidence towards it. obviously, rarepairs existc with their whole thing with popularity and all, and i adore them, but that isn’t what i’m talking about; i mean the ships with canon chemistry, where they’re barely ever apart and are so obviously meant to be more than friends. those gay ships. she doesn’t get in the way, most of the time, i promise you.

thank you for listening to my ted talk.

[lexiwritesbooks]

Chapter One: Feyre

Before my siblings and I were born, there had only been one set of triplets in our world. The three of them were the most powerful beings alive until they were imprisoned, separately. Those who captured them had been careful to keep them as far apart as possible, as they were more powerful together. When news of our birth spread across Prythian and the Continent, the memory of those imprisoned triplets was the first thought in everyone’s mind.

The Dusk Court had always kept to itself, but when we were born our Father took that even further. He knew that the rulers of our world would not take kindly to another set of triplets in our world, so he hid us away. We were confined to the Dusk and Night Courts, even trade with the other courts was shut down, with almost zero communication between Dusk and the other courts.

When the War of Human Freedom began, the loyalists had every advantage over us, and likely would have won if it hadn’t been for my siblings and I. When it became clear that Prythian had no way of winning without us, our father brought us to the battlefields, revealing our power to the world, and we turned the tide of the war.

Once the war was over, he shut us back up again in the name of protecting us, but once we had seen what the rest of the world was like, there was no way we’d let him lock us away again.

Once the war ended, they tried to lock us away again in the name of protection. But having tasted freedom, we refused to be caged. Now, with another war on the horizon, the Dusk Court scrambles to rebuild old alliances, and discovering that the three of us haven’t always been where we were supposed to be.

____________________________________________

I sat across from Morrigan, my cousin as well as my closest friend, in the sitting room at the House of Wind.

“Why is he doing this?” I whispered, swirling my wine.

“I don’t know.” Mor sighed. We had had this same conversation over a thousand times over the last week.

Rhysand had found his mate, the human girl turned fae who had defeated Amarantha, and he was letting her marry someone else, his worst enemy. The male who had killed Rhiannon. He wasn’t even going to tell her she was his mate. He was just going to let her tie herself to that murderer.

“Where is he anyway?”

Mor shrugged, taking another sip of wine. “Cassian said they’re going out tonight.”

“I’m not sure that's the best coping mechanism.”

“You’re one to talk,” Mor said, giving me a small smile.

“There is no need to call me out like that,” I said, sipping my wine.

“I'm always happy to help.”

I glanced out at the snow-capped mountains. The sun sinking behind them. The sunset was beautiful, but nothing compared to the ones we have at home. The whole Night Court was beautiful, but nothing here gave me the same feeling of awe that the brilliant purple, pink, orange, and yellow sunsets in the Dusk Court. The way the fading sunlight shone on the fluffy clouds and the bright stars slowly appearing as the sun sank.

She and Tamlin should be married by now. Mor had said the wedding was at sunset, which was nearly over.

“Oh, I want wine!” My Identical triplet said, walking into the room sinking into an armchair.

Mor passed her the bottle.

“What’s wrong with you two,” Amalthea asked.

“Just tired,” Mor said. “A lot is going on right now.”

“With Hybern?” Thea asked.

“With everything.” Mor sighed. “Hybern, my father and his court, the Illyrians.”

“They’re still not letting the females train?” I asked.

“They were, for a short time. They were sort of left to their own devices during Under the Mountain. Some started clipping the female's wings again.”

Amalthea’s face darkened, she was likely remembering what Aries and I had done when we found out about the band of Angels that was clipping their females wings. She still thought we had taken it too far. She had always preferred to solve her problems in a more civilized manner, whereas Aries and I tended to jump straight into a fight.

“Cassian is dealing with it,” Mor added.

“Maybe-” Thea started but was interrupted by the sound of someone winnowing. 

Mor and I jumped from our seats, Thea stared at us confused.

“Andi, why are you two freaking out?” She asked me in my mind. The two of us and our brother shared a strange bond between us that allowed us to speak into each other's minds.

“Rhys is supposed to be out getting drunk because of Feyre and Tamlin’s wedding.” I responded. “If he’s back, he probably did something really stupid.”

“Welcome to the Night Court,” Rhysand said from the hall.

“How dare you!” A female voice said angrily.

“Who is that,” Thea whispered. Mor only shrugged, although a knowing smile danced on her face. Thea walked to the doorway leading into the hall and peeked out. Mor and I followed.

Rhysand and a very skinny high-fae female in a wedding gown shaped like a pastry were standing in the hall, Feyre. She looked like she hadn’t eaten in days.

“I certainly missed that look on your face,” Rhys stalked closer to her. “You’re welcome, you know.”

“For what?” She demanded.

Rhys paused less than a foot away from her, sliding his hands into his pockets. “For saving you when asked.”

 She stiffened. “I didn’t ask for anything.”

Rhys gave no warning as he gripped her arm, snarling softly, and tore off her glove. “I heard you begging someone, anyone, to rescue you, to get you out. I heard you say no.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

He turned her bare hand over, examining a tattoo on her palm. He tapped it. Once. Twice. “I heard it loud and clear.”

Feyre wrenched her hand away. “Take me back. Now. I didn’t want to be stolen away.”

Rhys only shrugged. “What better time to take you here? Maybe Tamlin didn’t notice you were about to reject him in front of his entire court—maybe you can now simply blame it on me.”

“You’re a bastard. You made it clear enough that I had … reservations.”

“Such gratitude, as always.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Want? I want you to say thank you, first of all. Then I want you to take off that hideous dress. You look–” He paused. “You look exactly like the doe-eyed damsel he and that simpering priestess want you to be.”

“You don’t know anything about me. Or us.”

“Does Tamlin? Does he ever ask you why you hurl your guts up every night, or why you can’t go into certain rooms or see certain colors?”

“Get the hell out of my head.” Feyre nearly yelled.

“Likewise.” Rhys stalked a few steps away from Feyre. “You think I enjoy being awoken every night by visions of you puking? You send everything right down that bond, and I don’t appreciate having a front-row seat when I’m trying to sleep.”

“Oh this is, we should really not be listening to this,” Thea said into my head, continuing to watch them.

“You’re so worried for Rhysie’s privacy, and yet you were the first one over here to eavesdrop,” I said down the bond.

“Oh, hush. At least I care, you have no regrets about standing here listening to a very private conversation.” Thea responded.

“Prick.” Feyre said.

Rhys just chuckled. “As for what else I want from you … ” He gestured to the house. “I’ll tell you tomorrow at breakfast. For now, clean yourself up. Rest. Take the stairs on the right, one level down. Your room is the first door.”

“Not a dungeon cell?”

“You are not a prisoner, Feyre. You made a bargain, and I am calling it in. You will be my guest here, with the privileges of a member of my household. None of my subjects are going to touch you, hurt you, or so much as think ill of you here.”

“And where might those subjects be?”

“Some dwell here—in the mountain beneath us. They’re forbidden to set foot in this residence. They know they’d be signing their death warrant. Amarantha wasn’t very creative,” he said with quiet wrath. “My court beneath this mountain has long been feared, and she chose to replicate it by violating the space of Prythian’s sacred mountain. So, yes: there’s a court beneath this mountain—the court your Tamlin now expects me to be subjecting you to. I preside over it every now and then, but it mostly rules itself.”

“When—when are you taking me there?”

“I’m not.” He rolled his shoulders. “This is my home, and the court beneath it is my … occupation, as you mortals call it. I do not like for the two to overlap very often.”

“‘You mortals’?”

“Should I consider you something different?”

“And the other denizens of your court?”

“Scattered throughout, dwelling as they wish. Just as you are now free to roam where you wish.”

“I wish to roam home.”

Rhys laughed, finally sauntering toward the other end of the hall, which ended in a veranda open to the stars. “I’m willing to accept your thanks at any time, you know,” he called to me without looking back.

He walked right past Mor, Thea, and I and didn’t see us. The three of us backed away slightly to stay out of his line of sight.

Then Feyre hurled her shoe at the back of his head

I barely saw the silk slipper as it flew through the air, fast as a shooting star, so fast that even my cousin with all his power couldn’t detect it as it neared — And slammed into his head.

Rhys whirled, a hand rising to the back of his head, his eyes wide.

She already had the other shoe in her hand.

Rhys’s lip pulled back from his teeth. “I dare you.”

She flung her other shoe right at his head, as swift and hard as the first one.

His hand snatched up, grabbing the shoe mere inches from his face.

Rhys hissed and lowered the shoe, dissolving the silk to glittering black dust in his fist. His fingers unfurled, the last of the sparkling ashes blowing into oblivion.

“Interesting,” he murmured and continued on his way.

She stared at him for a moment, white-hot rage burning on her face, but she turned toward the doorway he’d indicated, heading for the dim stairwell beyond.

“So, that went well.” Mor laughed.

Rhys started, and then glared at us for a moment, gritting his teeth as he said, “The three of you are the noisiest people I know.” 

He was certainly in a mood tonight.

“Are you, How are you doing with, everything?” Thea asked cautiously.

Rhys’s shoulders drooped. “I’m fine.”

“Wine?” Mor asked, holding up a bottle.”

“Sure, why not.” Rhys sighed.

As Mor poured the wine, we gathered in the sitting room.

"So, Rhys, care to explain what's going on?" I asked, taking a sip of the wine Mor handed me.

Rhysand sighed, sinking into a chair. "She made a bargain Under the Mountain. I'm calling in."

“Halfway through her wedding? What happened to letting her be happy even if you didn’t like it?” I asked, smiling smugly.

“I didn’t interrupt the wedding because I wanted to, I did it because she asked me to.” Rhys said, taking a glass of wine from Mor.

“Mhm,” I hummed.

“What are you going to do with her this week? Tell her she's your mate, and try to make her fall in love with you?” Mor asked.

If Thea was shocked to learn Rhysand and Feyre were mates she didn’t show it. Perhaps Mor had already told her.

“No, She hates me. I’m going to teach her how to shield and to read for now.” Rhysand said, sipping his wine.

"Why not just tell her the truth?" I asked, “She deserves to know before she marries someone else.”

Rhysand sighed, his gaze distant. "If I told her now she’d lose her mind and say I was trying to manipulate her. She has to figure it out on her own."

Mor chimed in, "So, you're just going to tutor her and wait for the mating bond to snap into place for her?"

Rhysand nodded.

“How long do you think it will take her to realize?” Thea asked.

“I don’t know.” Rhys sighed, staring into his wine.

I drained my wine glass and stood up, “I’m going to bed. it's getting late.”

“Me too,” Amalthea said, setting her wine glass on a side table and getting up. “Wake us up in time for breakfast, I want to meet her.”

Rhys shook his head, rubbing his temple as he took another sip of wine, “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Thea and I said, walking out of the room.

“Goodnight,” Mor called after us.

It took me several hours to fall asleep that night. I wondered if the mating bond would indeed fall into place for Feyre, if she would choose Rhys over Tamlin. If Rhys would get the happy ending he deserved after everything he’s been through. He would be happy with her, judging by the little I had seen and heard of her. She would fit right in with his little family. I wondered if I would ever get a chance at that happy ending.

___________________________________________________________________

I awoke suddenly to my sister pounding on my mental shields. 

“Thea, you better have a damn good reason for waking me up this early.”

“Breakfast now. Aries is here.” She sent it down the bond to both me and our brother.

“I cannot deal with Aries this early in the morning.” I made sure that Aries heard that too.

“Alexandra, the suns been up for hours! How are you still asleep,” My wonderful brother practically shouted down the bond.

“It's barely past dawn.“ Thea said. “Just hurry up Andra.'' Then she shut her mental shields.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“Dad wants you back home.”

I stiffened, my heartbeat speeding up. “Just me or Thea too?”

“Both of you. He– just hurry and come eat.”

"Did you try telling him no? Tell him I'm sick or something,"  I groaned, as I rolled out of bed. 

“Alexandra.”

“Fine,” I grumbled, slamming my shields back up.

I sighed as I picked up my bed jacket and slid my slippers on. I gave a quick glance in the mirror and tried to tame my curls slightly before walking to breakfast.

"Look who's finally up!" Aries said, grinning.

Amalthea didn't bother to look up from her food as I glared at him and plopped down in a chair, grabbing a pastry.

All of them were dressed. Normally Rhys was the only one who bothered to try and look nice when it was just the family. 

"Is she coming?" I asked. They must have gotten dressed for her.

"She's on her way right now." Rhys said. "I'm surprised you didn't hear me last night when you were eavesdropping."

"I did hear you, don't worry Rhysie. I just wanted to know how soon she would be here."

"Did you? You don't seem to have had that in mind when you chose your outfit for the day."

"I figured we'd treat her like she was part of the family, her being your mate and all."

That had not actually been my plan at all, I was simply too lazy to change. And I had forgotten that she was here until I saw them all dressed up.

Rhys gave me a look. I was not to mention anything mating bond related to Feyre, message received. 

"Are you sure it wasn't just laziness?" Aries asked.

I flashed him an obscene hand gesture and sat down to eat. I could feel Feyre approaching. Her magic was, weird. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what power she had, only that she had a lot of it.

Rhys stared out at the mountains.

"I am not a dog to be summoned." She said to Rhys as a greeting. Her eyes widened when she noticed Amalthea, Aries, and I. She did the familiar flick between Thea and I, noting that we were identical. Then looked to Aries, and back at me, probably because I was in pajamas.

I wonder if Tamlin told her about us, the famous Dusk Triplets, or if she just thinks we're Rhys's family. 

Rhys frowned at her and said blandly, "I didn't want you to get lost."

He looked at the food and grabbed a berry while Feyre glanced around anxiously.

My sister cleared her throat quietly and kicked Rhysand under the table.

He looked back to Feyre and gestured to each of us, "These are my cousins, Alexandra, Amalthea, and Aries of the Dusk Court. They are triplets, and yes they are the ones that Tamlin has no doubt warned you about." He gestured to Feyre at the three of us, "Triplets, this is Feyre."

"Nice to meet you Feyre," Thea said, smiling sweetly, "You can call me Thea"

"I'm Andi," I said, smiling too, and grabbing more fruit. Feyre nodded and returned a small smile.

"Aries." He said smiling quickly before popping a grape into his mouth.

"It's nice to meet all of you," Feyre said, sitting down.

It would be rude to question her. No matter how curious I was about the Human Lands, and even the Spring Court. I had been forbidden to leave the Dusk and Night Courts since the war ended, and was infinitely curious about the rest of the world because of it.

Thea gave me a warning look, knowing exactly how many questions were buzzing around my mind, begging me to ask them.

I gave her a little glare, I wasn't that stupid.

Aries suddenly jumped up from the table, Feyre tensed looking terrified as he flared his black feathered wings.

I turned to glance behind me at the mountains, sure enough an Angel was flying straight for us.

"Aries, exactly when did our father say he wanted us home?" Amalthea asked, sounding exactly like our mother.

"As soon as possible."

"Aries!" She said harshly.

"I wanted to meet Feyre," He shrugged, "You're pretty famous y'know." He said looking down at Feyre, who still looked panicked.

"You deal with him, I'm going to get dressed." I said and standing to walk back to my room.

When I returned, wearing a long cerulean gown, the atmosphere had shifted slightly. The Angel had landed and was now speaking quietly with Aries. Mor and Thea were engaged in light conversation with Feyre, trying to put her at ease.

“I’m back,” I announced, taking my seat again. The Angel’s eyes flicked towards me, cold and assessing.

“Andi,” Aries began, “This is Seraphiel. He’s here on Father’s orders.”

“I figured as much,” I replied coolly, meeting the Angel’s gaze. “What does he want?”

“HIgh Lord Erebus demands your immediate return to the Dusk Court,” Seraphiel stated, his voice devoid of any warmth. “All three of you are to report back without delay.”

We nodded, Thea’s face a bit pale.

“Why does he want us back so soon?” I asked, addressing both Aries and Seraphiel.

Aries shrugged.

“I was not informed of the High Lord's reasoning, but I can infer that it has something to do with his recent dealings with the Autumn Court.” Seraphiel glanced at Rhysand, clearly not wanting to give any details away to the High Lord of Night.

The Autumn Court. Eris. “We  should go,” I said, turning to look at Rhysand, and Feyre. 

“I hope we’ll get to meet properly soon,” Thea said to Feyre.

Feyre nodded, staring intensely at Seraphiel’s enormous white wings.

Rhys stood, “Good luck,” was all he said.

“We can winnow back,” Aries said. Seraphiel nodded and Aries took his arm, disappearing in a puff of black smoke. I followed, winnowing to the palace I knew my father would be waiting at.

________________________________________________

I hope you guys like this story! I think I'm going to post the chapters on a monthly basis but I might do it more often than that depending on how fast I can finish it. I've written twelve chapters and a few random chapter from later in the story so far and I'm still FAR from finished.

[seoafin]

I think Akutami is just going for a tragic end. Like, it's obvious he hates Gojo, and ending the series with Gojo being the last standing would add even more to the "Throughout the Heaves and earth, he alone is the strongest."

Which SUCKS bc even gojo wanted the kids to get strong!!! He wanted strong allies so he WONT be alone!!! Akutami could have kept him in there longer, and have the kids actually do something, since they couldn't fall back on gojo anymore. I wish Yuji had that win against Mahito, instead of Kenjaku just absorbing him like a Pokémon. Or better yet, NOBARA. LET HER GET A WIN. SHE COULDVE WON, AND SHE SHOULDVE. Killing off Yuki, for what? Sidelining shoko and miwa and every other female character except Maki?

And what was the point of the culling games? Bringung in military forces? If Gege has a plan and is somehow able to tie this all together I'll be impressed. But only if he finally utilizes his female characters the way they should have always been, like he did for Maki. He did SO good with her, what happened to the rest?

Sorry I'm still ranting, but to add on to Akutami's misuse of his female characters-- Shouldn't women in the jjk universe have an advantage?

Momo was talking about how woman in jjk need to be perfect, just to be accepted. Disobedient woman in the zenin clan can have their mouths sewed shut. Adding in the general woes of being a woman, wouldn't that lend for greater storage or a more unique type of cursed energy?

Add THAT onto what our female characters have faced. Miwa lost Mechamaru, and she even tried to go up against Kenjaku even when he warned against it. And he almost used that Uzumaki cursed thing (i believe) on her. Her brother is in one of the colonies. (Honestly I feel she's one of the most underutilized characters). Nobara isn't from a great clan like Megumi or freakishly fast and strong like Yuji, even if we haven't seen I'm sure she has some problems with feeling left behind, that little girl in her still searching for a grand escape, her Saori. Momo already has spoken of the troubles of women sorcerers, so I'm sure she's been battling this image and ideal for a while. Do I even need to mention Maki and Mai?

NO BUT I DO NEED TO MENTION SHOKO.

"I was there too you bastards." Like??? She was in the generation with the two greatest sorcerers! She bore witness to it all!! What about Riko??? The Star plasma vessel, who im sure wouldve completed the trio of the strongest sorceres had she lived, and then there's Shoko, again.

Why is it that even when Akutami uses his female cast they always end up as some sort of character growth or regression or stepping stool for the male cast? Yuki and choso. Riko and gojo/geto. Kenjaku and Tengen (who I think is female). Angel and Megumi. TSUMIKI and Megumi. Nobara and Yuji. Like????

no i agree it just doesn't make sense. like is the whole point of jjk not gojo ushering a new age with strong allies??? why would akutami bring him back when the students have barely begun to actually do anything without gojo's help. AND NOBARA'S STILL NOT BACK???? ig this is confirmation that she's never coming back ugh. akutami killing off characters when he has no more use for them is so detrimental to the narrative. i truly believe nanami should've survived. but oh well :/

i just feel like his unboxing reiterates how dependent everything is around gojo! it's to the extent that other characters begin to become static because of how much everything revolves around gojo's strength. i was really looking forward to the students getting more of a spotlight.

the thing about akutami is that im pretty sure it's not even as intentional as other mangakas. akutami follows a pretty perfunctory story structure and when it comes to utilizing his characters he seeks to have his characters perform a single purpose and then when he doesn't need them they're gone. instead of dynamic characters we get flat characters or they just die before they ever really get a chance to shine (nanami). it sucks all around tbh but i do think gojo is going to die. akutami's kinda sick like that so. i'd also rather gojo die than any students LOL

[vivid-ink]

Hello babe <3 If you don't already know, I am obsessed with your story the Love Shack! Since it has come to a beautiful close I figure it was time to pay my respects and let you know specifically why this story is so fantastic.

First of all let me start by saying, I was so entranced by this story and emotional over it that after reading the last chapter I ended up talking about it with my boyfriend for over an hour! He let me reccount the whole story in full detail while we ate dinner and let me tell you, he got invested!! At first he was just listening to be nice to me but it got to a point where when I would pause to scarf down food for a few minutes he would get so impatient for me to continue. He's just glaring at me like "Bitch, what did Neyomi do? You can't leave me hanging like that!" I thoroughly enjoyed it, so basically he too is a fan now.

Girl, the way I went into this series thinking "ooh this will be a nice steamy threesome" and then somehow ended up balling my eyes out with every chaper, ILLEGAL! You had me crying within the first few paragraphs of the last chapter. Just for some perspective I actually don't remember the last time I legitimately cried full on while reading. I was holding back sobs so my roomate wouldn't come check up on me. Needless to say, you had me in a chokehold, sis. And I'm living for it! This will definitely be one of my favorite stories to reread and I think about it very often.

I could go on and on about the specific reasons I feel that this story enraptured me, but here are just a few.

Your depiction of Neteyam is honest to Eywa one of my all time favorites! Not only do I feel like he is very representative of the canon character but also extremely captivating. One of the reasons I think Neteyam (and truly all Na'vi men) is so hot is becuase of the raw male power tha radiates off of him, and I mean in the best way possible. Like other Na'vi males he shows that he can be a provider and protector (which biologically does something to me so I can not be blamed for finding this appealing haha) while also holding himself with a confidence and sense of responsibility that only a true man can capture. You get so many reminders of this power in your writing, even just in the way you describe his attire. Things like his battle band and sheathed knife or bow all serve as visual reminders that Neteyam is a respectable powerful and influential male that will someday be Olo'eyktan. And then to see him crumble and shake and quiver for Neyomi....that is so hot! I'm not sure if any of that made sense but basically, you nailed Neteyam. (not mad about the double meaning there haha).

Then there's Lo'ak who I have decided is the MVP in this story AND NO ONE CAN CHANGE MY MIND! He shows such a wonderful side of Lo'ak's character that doesn't often get displayed. He is still rebellious and free and a troublemaker, but deep down he loves his brother so much and isn't wiling to let Neteyam get in his own way of his happiness. Not only did the poor man have to witness Neyomi and Neteyam disregard his advice constantly while he suffered to watch but he straight up took a few punches in the face just to get Neteyam to work out his own shit. That is the fire I love about, Lo'ak. Consequences be damned, he will do what needs to be done. He is the ultimate wingman and I truly love him so much in this story. Without him let's face it, those two would have ended up miserable. He is the hero of this story and the main person that made me hold onto hope throughout each chapter.

Neyomi was also such a beautiful character. She is a perfect blend of independant and strong while still embracing her feminine side. I love seeing female characters like this because it shows that this duality exists and it's okay to embrace our own masculine and feminine traits within each of us. Sure she was stubborn as heck (and so was Neteyam of course) but she never completely surrendered herself to grief. She let herself cry and feel her emotions, but still tried to press forward with her life no matter how much her heart ached. I respect that.

What I'm trying to get at babe is that you have TALENT! Your storytelling completely transported me and I wish I could read the whole thing again for the first time. Please write a book or something because I would genuinly read an 800 page book if it meant you were the author. Thank you for all the time and efffort that you have put into your stories and into this community. I know how long projects like these take and I really do appreciate you putting the work in. I hope you have fabulous day! Thanks for reading my very long ramble. Sending you many forehead kisses <3

Oh my goodness, @wheneclipsefalls THANK YOU for your amazing message! I can't believe you got your boyfriend invested in 'The Love Shack'! Your storytelling skills must be A+++ if you recounted it all to him & it kept his interest! 🤣 My husband sighs every time I start talking about Avatar lol!

GURLLL, we all go crazy for a big, strong man who has a good balance of dominance and tenderness... I'm glad you like my portrayal of an adult Neteyam. 😁 I try to keep my characters as well-balanced & as true to canon as I feel they should be. As for my OCs, I always create a little mindmap of them and what their personalities/characteristics are before I start writing. It's like I need to bring life to them that way first. I wanted Neyomi to have a good balance of hard and soft, if that makes sense (I feel like I always write my female leads this way, in different ways), so I'm happy if you feel I've nailed this. I seem to have an inability to write quick drabbles (you may have noticed lol), so the result is usually fleshed out characters and fleshed out plots. 😛 Lo'ak is absolutely MVP #1 in 'The Love Shack'. I often see Neteyam being touted as the 'bestest big bro ever', which I completely agree with. I wanted to portray a more mature Lo'ak who loves & appreciates his big bro, so I thought what better way to do this than to have him repay the favour and look out for Neteyam. 🥰

You want me to write a book?? 🥹 I'm so flattered. I kind of did, in a way. My first Neteyam story 'Violet Eyes' is 20 chapters and 150k words. I always promote this work because it's my proudest achievement to date. It's a real unpredictable rollercoaster with a completely original narrative. Give it a try if you haven't & I hope you love it too.

Honestly, thank you for taking the time to leave me your message. This past 10 months has been full of creative fulfilment writing for the ATWOW fandom. All my works are in my masterlist. It is always such a JOY to hear from readers who have been moved by my work. You have absolutely made my day, my lovely. 😘😘😘 Thank you, THANK YOU so much for your support. A thousand forehead kisses back at ya. xx

[alwaysspeakshermind]

VARCHIE APPRECIATION WEEK: DAY [1] 

(yes this is over a year late but I SAID I was gonna do this & do this I shall welcome to useralwaysspeakshermind’s version of varchieaw2021 coming to you live in 2023 right before RD’s final season begins)

I’ve said before, probably the last time I did a Varchie Appreciation Week, that I’m not really confident in choosing one favorite scene or quote related to this couple, and that’s purely because they have so MANY that I love. Like, to be honest, there just isn’t a clear winner for me; not because I’m indecisive, but because I can make a strong case for every single one I gravitate toward. So the two I went with here are quotes that are special to me for what they symbolize in the storyline. I personally adore couples that flip typical gender roles on their head, and Varchie (despite the occasional narrative stumble for Alleged Reasons Of Drama) is an absolutely stellar example of that, particularly when it comes to the opposing ways in which they process emotion.

Archie, for instance, is Mr. Feelings. Whatever it is...love, hate, hope, despair, happiness, sadness, anger, etc., he embraces it (or it embraces him) full throttle. He catches a lot (like, a LOT a lot) of heat from all sides of the Riverdale fandom for it, in a way that’s kind of hilarious to me because of how thoroughly he’s condemned for essentially giving into his emotions in the same kind of scenarios that (I won’t name names for the sake of not turning a post that’s meant to celebrate my ship into a negative, mudslinging campaign) certain leading female characters from certain shows and certain movies and certain books are fiercely defended for crumbling in.

[Note: this is not a misogynistic condemnation of female emotion, an attempt to devalue the importance of female characters being allowed to voice their feelings, any internalized acceptance of the antiquated patriarchal presupposition that Girls Are Too Emotional And Should Be Criticized Or Laughed At For “Overreacting,” OR a move to defend fictional white men. This is merely an expression of my deep fascination with the whole “We need more portrayals of male characters showing emotion!” train somehow screeching to a halt the second a guy in fiction who apparently doesn’t fit enough of the acceptable Is Allowed To Have Feelings parameters like, you know...actually shows emotion? And makes decisions rooted in that emotion? Decisions that frequently don’t make sense? As decisions rooted in emotion typically fail to?]

[Note #2: at the end of the day, this is just me explaining why I love some quotes in a CW show. However dramatic I get, it is not that deep, it has never been that deep, and it never will be that deep. I’m just wordy and I love to analyze, and Archie and Veronica provide me with a lot of excellent material.]

He’s not very good at putting what he feels into words, he tends to want to keep people happy to an extent that makes him less careful with himself, and he’s so impulsive that he can go from 0-100 on the road to self-destruction faster than most people can even locate the gas pedal. In addition to all that, he’s surrounded by people that frequently take his happy-go-lucky, Boy Next Door/Dumb Jock act at face value...and then resent when he fails to meet those preconceived notions. When his dad gets shot, the fear, shock, and anger he feels takes over until he’s reacting in ways that make no logical sense to an outsider, but all the sense to him. Veronica, as the person who accompanies him home, is the firsthand witness to all that. When he decides he needs to walk the dog (while still covered in blood), she offers to do it herself and then goes along with him and listens to his ramblings when it becomes clear that he’s not in the kind of place to be talked into anything. When they get back to the house, she goes out on a limb and tries the only thing she can think of (cue: arguably the most infamous scene in Riverdale history that just about every non-Varchie love(d/s) to hate on because jealousy is a disease and some people insist on refusing effective treatment despite being chronically ill but anyways). 

Now. As referenced above, some people looooovvveee to decry The Shower Scene. (”Omg, she’s such a slut!” “I hate Veronica. How dare she use her body to manipulate Archie when he’s in PAIN!” “This is NOT the time or place for sex, Veronica!” etc., etc.) 

BUT!

The inappropriateness of the time and place is the whole POINT. It’s what literally makes the scene that follows it (the one I’m writing way too much intro about) work.

In this particular moment, Veronica is being stared smack dab in the face with a very difficult, very delicate situation that calls for a careful response, and because she has essentially no prior experience in this zone to draw on, she’s forced to play it by ear. As a result, she begins her approach by mirroring Archie’s actions/taking her cues from him; after seeing the way he distracted himself from the elephant in the room by focusing on everything but his personal turmoil, she basically goes Oh, okay, distraction is what we’re doing, cool. I can do distraction, and walks into the bathroom. (A move that, btw, is a major risk and took some guts.) Archie is unsurprisingly let’s be honest into it, and they, ahem...distract themselves for a bit.

But the thing about distractions is that they only provide you with a temporary escape from whatever it is you’re trying to run from (in Archie’s case, the fear, anger, and helplessness planted within him after seeing his father get shot, and in Veronica’s the same, because she knows Archie is hurting and isn’t sure what to do to help). After acting fine for a whole couple of hours or so, Archie suddenly snaps over something small, asks Veronica why she’s even there with him, and tells her he wants her to leave. Veronica, obviously hurt by how harshly he lashes out, very nearly does leave...but at the last second she thinks better of it, turns around, and digs her heels in, telling Archie (who is clearly not okay and by then on the verge of tears he’s trying hard to hold in) in no uncertain terms that he doesn’t need to be alone, so even if he gets angry at her for staying, she won’t leave him. It’s a big move for someone who doesn’t naturally fit into the nurturing role society typically expects of girls, and that’s kind of why I love it so much...because Veronica is willing to leave her comfort zone to help Archie, we get to watch her grow as a character, and the connection between her and Archie deepen. Honestly, what more could you ask for in a hurt/comfort scene?

*sighs sappily*

This quote is especially special to me because it features Archie, a guy who is about as antithetically wordsmithy as possible, doing his best to comfort Veronica, a gal who takes the “Big Girls Don’t Cry” trope to another level, and it’s just so doggone cute.

Despite her bubbly exterior, Veronica is a character who explicitly identifies with ice rather than fire (my girl forever), and tends to take things very much in stride. No matter how terrible the situation she finds herself in, her default mode is to keep pushing, keep moving, keep doing anything and everything that helps her avoid opening up to feelings that could hurt/sadden/anger her. She doesn’t unload her problems on friends or family, she doesn’t make leading comments in the hopes that someone will ask her what’s wrong, she doesn’t decide to handle something on her own and then break down crying in a moment of weakness; she literally has to be chased down and caught giving in to her emotions, and even then, she tends to try to cover any slipups with denials and standoffish attitudes. She’s not a character who gets a lot of sympathy, but neither is she a character who asks for sympathy...as a rule, when something goes wrong in her world, she deals with it herself and mentions it to no one. To which I say “yes MA’AM!” because never will you ever catch ME loving a fictional girl who cries/whines all the time over problems of her own making like seriously if you ever see me praising a giant crybaby b!tch who keeps having breakdowns over the bed she’s made herself and is upset that she now has to lie in I’ve been kidnapped and I’m trying to signal you.

The one big exception to that no-telling rule? Archie.

In this scene, Archie shows up unannounced to the Pembrooke, solely because he’s worried about Veronica. Despite all her assurances that everything’s fine, she’s been behaving in a way that, while passably normal to outsiders, tells him something is very, very wrong, and he refuses to be put off any longer. When she finally cracks and explains what’s going on (Hiram is “sick” [was he really though, or was it just Hiram being Hiram inquiring minds would like to have this answered once and for all]), it only takes Archie a second to jump in and start comforting her. He doesn’t wax poetic or anything of course, but he goes straight for the heart of the matter and offers his girlfriend support in a concrete way she can make use of.

(It’s also important to note that he recognizes the delicacy of the situation and meets her right where she’s at; instead of being like, “God, the world sucks, I’m so sorry, I wish I could protect you from this” or “Why do you care, your dad is the worst, shouldn’t you want him to kick the bucket?” or even “That’s terrible, wanna do something to forget it?” he sees at once how much she’s struggling to make sense of a very complex blend of emotions, instantly hurts for her, listens to her troubles, and tries to help however he can.)

When he tells her she’s the strongest person he knows, it’s because he genuinely thinks that and wants her to know he believes in her. He’s seen her strength and leaned on it himself, and because he admires and trusts in her ability to offer it to others, that’s the thing he chooses to remind her of. He doesn’t start outlining detailed this is how you should do it plans or anything along those lines; he all but takes it for granted that she’ll get back up, start fighting, and figure out something that works, because he’s seen her do it before and has enough faith in her strength to believe she’ll do it again.

And then he hugs her and because hugs are kind of their thing it GETS ME, okay? 

Also, there really aren’t a lot of people who are there for Veronica, because Veronica is (for better or worse) written as the Strong Character whose lot in life frequently consists of being the one who supports (sometimes emotionally, sometimes physically, sometimes financially) the weaker friend/parent/love interest. The few times she does need help, it’s on the emotional support front, and that’s why her relationship with Archie is so lovely...he can’t fix her problems for her; of the two of them, he’s far less skilled in the solutions arena, but he can and does offer her that ‘broad shoulder to cry on’ she jokes about in S1, and that in turn gives her the comfort and strength she needs to pull herself back together and go slay some dragons, and I personally <3 that.

[gyumazing]

Life is not a race, Taehyun.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Non

—————

"Y/N, what are you doing there? Are you going to jump?" You heard a voice calling you.

You turned around and saw Taehyun who was standing firmly. Both his hands were placed inside his pockets. And, for someone who assumed that he was about to witness somebody jump off a building, he looked extremely calm.

You sighed.

"Why are you here?" you whispered under your breathe. You looked up the night sky and felt the cool gushing wind blowing towards you.

December air really hits differently. You wished every day could just be as calm and as plain as how December nights feels like.

"Get down here." Taehyun commanded. He walked slowly—but casually towards you. He didn't seem cautious or what.

How dare he order you to go down?

You rolled your eyes.

"Last time I checked, you weren't in the position to order me around." You glanced at him before closing your eyes.

The chirps of the crickets, the beeping of cars, it felt so nostalgic. You've never had this kind of peace in a while. But, somebody really needs to intervene, huh?

"Oh, so you're really going to jump?" Taehyun scoffed.

You looked at him in disbelief.

"Why do you even care?" You hissed, only for him to shrug lightly before attempting to climb up towards you.

"Alright, if you're not gonna get down here right now..." You then heard a light grunting, followed by a thud. Next thing you knew, the boy was already beside you. "I'll just join you up here." He finished his sentence.

You scanned his entire stature.

He was wearing a plain black shirt with a grey jacket on top of it. His short were dirty white and he was wearing black slide on slippers. With that, you found yourself mindlessly tugging on your own hoodie, trying to ignore the fact that the both of you had a strikingly similar sense of style.

"Leave me alone." you said calmly.

He slouched lowly and arched his back. His feet swayed relaxedly as if it wasn't hanging 10 stories above the ground.

Taehyun scoffed.

"Too bad. Last time I checked, I wasn't obliged to follow your orders."

You groaned.

"I was here first!" You stared at him fiercely, attempting to intimidate the lad. But alas! He didn't throw even a single glance at your direction.

Annoyed, you got up and was about to jump off the platform to leave.

But then you heard Taehyun call your name.

"Don't go yet. Please." Taehyun added. "This is not an order. It's a request." His big doe eyes looked as if they were trying to persuade you into staying still.

And it worked.

You didn't know why but you stood frozen beside him, staring down at his blonde hair awkwardly, trying to avoid his eyes. Only when he raised his head with a confused look did you snap out and sat back right beside him. With that, you heard a contented humm coming from his side.

You stared into the night sky and let your eyes wander upon the sea of stars. The wind was gushing cold brews of air along with the chimes of Christmas bells.

It was Christmas eve and you were supposed to be overjoyed. Why are you both on top of a lonely rooftop when there's a feast to celebrate downstairs?

You also didn't know.

"Y/N, Do you believe in the after life?" Taehyun randomly blurted out. You felt him shifting his position and now he was sitting crossed leg, back slightly slouched, elbows on top of his thighs, and the palms of his hands supporting the weight of his head.

He looked rather comfortable, considering the fact that one wrong move and he could literally fall off the building.

You threw a horrified gaze at the unfazed man.

"Why ask that?"

"It's just fascinating," Taehyun spoke softly. His voice sounded so mellow and comforting.

Taehyun was a family friend. You were a year younger than him and you knew each other since you were a child. The both of you are from the same school and you two were oftenly dubbed as the male and female version of each other. Were the two of you close? No. If hadn't it both of your moms being friends, you were sure you would've never interacted.

"What's so fascinating about the afterlife?" You asked.

"The concept that there's a place where we can go after we die," Taehyun replied earning a subtle scoff from you. "I think it's fascinating."

You stared at the guy as he was directing his gaze towards oblivion.

"Really? Don't you think there's tonshit of stuffs going on in our lives right now to even think about where we will go when we die?"

"No. Not really. I mean, why is life even created in the first place when we're destined to die?" He asked, earning nothing but a silence from you.

You wanted to rebutt something but your mind can't form out a coherent response to his statement.

Teahyun's mind wasn't the easiest to decipher so you never knew what's going on inside his head until he says it. To be honest, he's just way too weird for your liking. Up until now, you still haven't figured if you should be offended or be grateful when people see you as the female version of Taehyun.

"Aren't you afraid of being old Y/N?" Taehyun finally glanced on your side. "Aren't you worried of what life might be for you when you've already passed the age age of 60?" He tilted his head to the side while looking at you. His big doe eyes looked as if they were twinkling like the stars above him.

You shrugged.

"Not much," you stared back at him.

People worry about things too much. Life is a just big series mystery waiting to be unfold. Whatever happens it will just happen. If you spend your time wondering and worrying about what the future might hold for you, you'll just end up stressing over things that aren't worth stressing for.

"Really? I hope I could be just like you," Taehyun swayed left to right matching the beat of the muffled Christmas jingle from the inside of the hotel. "I hope I worry less."

You chuckled.

"Uh, not really dude," you brushed him off. "Part of why I don't really worry about what will happen to me when I'm old is because I plan on dying young."

He giggled upon your reply.

"You know what? You're really unpredictable, Y/N."

You were? You never pegged yourself as somebody who's unpredictable. Hearing this from Taehyun made you think otherwise.

"I'm not joking though." you uttered with the straightest face you could ever make.

He looked at you for a moment, as if he were deciphering codes before humming contently.

"Seems like it," Taehyun nodded, convinced.

You tugged your grey hoodie and pulled the sleeves to extend it and completely cover your palms.

Now, silence reigned between you two and the only thing you could hear was the faint sound coming from downstairs.

Dashing through the snow, with the one horse open sleigh~

All the things we go, laughing all the way~

You looked at Taehyun again.

"Are you okay?" You asked him after realizing the things that he had said to you earlier.

You heard him taking a deep deep breath.

You looked at his side and saw his conflicted expression.

"Spill the tea," you urged him. "This is not an order, okay?" You added teasingly.

He pondered for quite a while before speaking.

"I've been worrying about the path that I've choosen lately." He looked at you, observing if you were listening and you nodded, urging him to continue. "Well, I've been a trainee for six years now and I still haven't debuted." He sighed.

You saw him fidgeting with his fingers and you waited patiently for him to continue.

"You know what? I've been telling myself that the right time will just come. That everything that I've been working so hard for will all be worth it in the end." He said. "But, sometimes I can't help but think, maybe being an idol isn't just for me? That, maybe I should just quit so I won't waste my time anymore." You could hear fear, confusion, and uncertainty laced within his words.

You can't help but look at him in pitty. You never knew Taehyun felt this way.

"Wow, six years sure is a long time." You uttered slowly, unable to think of anything that'd make him feel better.

You heard Taehyun sigh for the nth time.

"I know. It's been so long. It feels like the thought of debuting is not even on the table anymore." He looked so lost, as if you could almost hear his heart shattering into pieces.

You can't help but feel sad for him too.

You wanted to reassure him but you're not quite sure how.

You coughed.

"Taehyun, I don't even know you that much but I know that you can sing really well and you can dance really well." You uttered slowly.

The man looked at you, confusion visibly etched on his face.

"What I meant is, you have everything that it takes in order to debut. Technically speaking, your skills are for an above average trainee. Plus, you're still young. Debut is definitely not out of the table." You explained. "Instead of worrying, why not try to challenge yourself and try to keep improving?"

"I always try my best to do things that will help me improve. But then, there's always this part of me that thinks 'no matter what I do, it's just not enough'. It tells me that I am just wasting my time and energy."

"Well, do you love what you are doing?" You eyed him. And with no hesitation, he muttered a small yes. You nodded. "I mean, I'm not telling you to not quit because that's still up to you. Rationally speaking though, don't you think you'll end up wasting even more time if you stopped right now after investing so much time?"

"I know. But, it's just, I feel like this won't lead me anywhere."

"How so?"

"My friends, they already debuted while I'm still here stuck in what seems like a time loop. I'm afraid that if I remain doing the same thing everyday, I'll eventually end up running out of time." He sighed. "What if I never debut?" He whispered.

You looked at him in pitty.

He looked so conflicted and confused. Never in your life did you expect that you'll ever see Taehyun this way.

You moved closer to him and tapped his right shoulder.

"Life is not a race, Taehyun. You shouldn't view life like it's 'start to finish line'. If you're afraid that one day you'll end up running out of time, then you're wasting even more time now by worrying now." You tried your best to comfort him. "Chill out dude. Breathe in and just savor what is in you plate right now. Life is too short to worry about things that are yet to happen."

You continued patting on his shoulders.

He nooded at you meekly.

"Again, do you love what you are doing?" You looked at him expectantly.

You could see his eyes glistening. How his face changed from a contemplating look to a softer one.

"Yes. Very."

You nodded.

"Then that's a reason enough to not give up."

—end—

[lonelyfanboy48]

Christmas Gem & Pow Card Spirit

During the holiday season, the Cartoon Network stars, old and new all come together to celebrate Christmas in cabins in the mountains. Nearly half of the twenty five cabins are huge with one of them including the stars hosting the activities, with their fansbase participating in them. Crafting Christmas ornaments with the Craig Of The Creek stars, creating gingerbread houses with the Adventure Time stars helping out, and in the outdoors mountains before sundown, the We Bare Bears Bears take the children up on the hill with the Teen Titans handing them multiple designated sleds with their favorite characters from their shows.

And if sliding down wasn’t enough, the likes of secondary characters who had the ability to fly in their shows, flow down just in the same velocity as the children in the sleds, giving them the Christmas experience by joining them down the hill with Christmas trees along the way. It was a weekly event just when Christmas comes around the corner and it gets better with each passing year, more stars with ideas of their own adding more to the celebration of the happiest time of the year.

But when it came to two shows who never had any Christmas holiday in their shows, it gave their fan bases some disappointment, knowing that their shows came to an end, they would never get their Christmas special they ever wanted similar to Adventure Time and Regular Show. But after all the years, doing what they have in the cabins year after year, it was a matter of time until it all changed for the better.

A group of kids, youths and teens have been registered to be the first to witness the latest addition of Cartoon Network’s Christmas spectacular. After hours spent in the cabins, it was time for them to head to one of the biggest cabins where the two shows are active. With the doors pushed open, allowing people inside, they notice tons of Christmas curtains covering every single bit of the cabin inside with security guards preventing anyone from peeking through. The hallway to the living room was narrowed due to the majority of it being off limits, as when Cartoon Network had made the surprise a major secret, compared to the other advertisements they did.

Inside the living room in the back, chairs were set up, enough for every visitor to sit in until the presentation began, with Christmas Trees, wreaths, and the huge windows for a view of the hills and mountains. In just a matter of time, everyone was sitting down in their chairs while the presentation itself began. The lights turned down while spotlights shone onto the stage. Then one of Steven Universe’s popular characters, Peridot, came out from the left side while one of the villains of OK K.O.! Let’s Be heroes, Shannon appeared from the right side.

“Merry Christmas everybody!” Peridot cheered through her microphone, while the fans applauded.

“Alright alright, no need for your deceitful approval.” Shannon smirked. “Let’s just get this show on the road.”

“Now, we shouldn’t cause a fight at the happiest time of the year. Why would we?”

“Because we’re villains, duhhh…”

“Yeah, one redeemed ex-villain and one over arrogant Team Rocket reject.”

The crowd laughed at Peridot’s sense of humor, while Shannon slightly groaned. “Anyway, we’re all happy that you’re all here for what we have in store.”

“For years, we showcase our love of Christmas from decorating huge Christmas trees, making gingerbread replica houses from our shows, and of course, doing charity and donations for all of you.” Peridot admires the kids male and female.

“For nice or naughty purposes that is.” Shannon smirked. “But in character at the same time.”

“So, after years of planning, it all ends today.” Then one of Steven Universe’s main stars, Amethyst came out from the back. Soon the fans cheer from the presents of the main gems as Amethyst heads up stage while Peridot hands her a spare microphone.

“What’s up Holiday dudes!?” She cheered while the crowd cheered back. “You would never believe how hard it was to plan everything out from the ground up.”

“Especially when we had creative differences that made the process much harder than it needed to be.” Shannon commented.

“However, when this year started, we finally made agreements.” Peridot then showed the poster to the audience as Amethyst presented the title itself. “Gem & Pow Card Yule!”

The poster itself shows the stars of both shows in their Christmas sweaters, while the Christmas trees behind them have Gem ornaments and Pow Cards attached to them. While the crowd was impressed with the poster, Amethyst continued her speech.

“We came up with this title just last month during Thanksgiving and let me tell you, the moment Rad came up with that idea, we all loved it.”

“I would have preferred something devious after the many ideas Lord Boxman came up with but…we wouldn't be invited during Thanksgiving.” Shannon taunted.

“For obvious reasons?” Peridot raised an eyebrow.

“We never had Thanksgiving as robots, you know.”

“Yeah, but good robots don’t put bombs inside turkeys.”

“Okay, the less said about that, the better.” Amethyst breaks up the two. “Thanksgiving was last month, let’s not revise the whole Victor & Valentino debacle.”

“Is that why the stars from that show smelled like turkey meat last month?” One teen boy wondered.

“Yes but it wasn't my intended target!” Shannon retorted.

“Okay Shannon, I think it’s time for you and Peridot to get out of here.” Amethyst led Shannon the way from where she came out, all the while taking the microphone from her and so from Peridot. “We rather have two other people to fill in on what’s behind those curtains.”

As both Peridot and Shannon head straight to the back from where they came from, two more stars appear. Pearl from Steven Universe and Rad from OK K.O.! head up the stage while receiving the microphones from Amethyst.

“Christmas just keeps getting better and better, huh dudes?” Rad smiled.

“Whenever we say that, it’s unusually an exaggeration but this year, we will never regret saying that when we continue to make more additions here.” Pearl said, eager to show the surprise.

The projector screen was being lowered down while Rad turned the projector on with the remote. “Ever since school began, we made so many adjustments, we had to move so many heavy things up and downstairs.”

“It was a stressful time over the following weeks, but it turned out much better than we planned.”

Soon the projector lit up with the first photo revealing the Pow Card Gem customization. “This is only Christmas exclusive if you really want the banners themselves holiday themed.” Rad replied.

“With a customized vending machine that people wanted during Halloween, you wouldn’t believe how technology requires Gem hardware.” Pearl added that Peridot appeared again.

“From yours truly, which was the hardest to work with day and night.”

“Peridot! Leave!” Amethyst called to her, to which Peridot left again.

“Anyway, now you can take a picture while wearing one of your Christmas outfits as your Pow Card.” Rad pressed another button on the remote, showing an image of a teen in his sweater with the Pow Card itself decorated Christmas themed.

“And if you think that’s enough, you can also take a picture with one of your favorite characters, not just from both of our shows.” Pearl finished as Rad pressed the button again, revealing Unica from We Baby Bears in the next Pow Card with the same teen. “Granted it’s gonna cost you extra, but still worth it.”

The audience became impressed with the chance to take photos with their favorite cartoon characters. They hoped this was bound to happen when this year started and it would be ready when Halloween came around, but they never imagined how painful it was to make the Pow Card machine work properly and move it into place.

As Rad turned to the next page from the projector, it showed the Christmas shop from the upper floor, which also includes Bismuth and Mr. Gar side by side. “Now sure, we have like three Christmas shops here, but I promise you once you go up stairs, you’ll never want to leave again.” Rad smiled.

“Until you get sick of the shopping that is.” Pearl said. “Anyway, there’s a mini bake sale with Lars in charge.”

“With head shaped cookies of ourselves.” Rad turned to the page of Steven Universe and OK K.O.! Characters as head shaped cookies. “Believe us, it was hard to convince the head of creative to allow that. It had absolutely nothing to do with favoritism, let me tell you.”

“Is that why we never had those from the other shows before?” A young girl wondered.

“They didn’t like the idea back then, you know how low the bar is when it comes to the head-shaped cookies of cartoon characters, compared to action figures.” Amethyst replied.

“Anyway, back to the Christmas shop.” Pearl smiled as the page turned from the projector. “We have Gem shaped ornaments in box sets, Character figurines for you to set up in your house.”

“Or anywhere else.” Rad added.

“And when it comes to costumes, we have a lot of different designs with both shows specialties.”

As Rad pressed the button from the remote, people in the photos were wearing Christmas outfits of the Diamonds colors. Children in the next photo had Christmas mittens with Onion and Fink’s face of different expressions on it. And finally, Christmas sweaters of logos of all the characters from both shows attached from the front and back.

“There are a lot of them, instead of this shirt, just you wait when you head upstairs.”

By showing the bits of the shop itself, the crowd are eager to spend their money on the merch, sweets, and decorations they can put outside on their houses, and their Christmas Trees inside.

“Now there is one more thing to show before we open the shop for realsies.” As Rad pressed the button to the projector, the two main stars, Steven & K.O. themselves with Christmas keys in their hands. Not only that, a child in the middle has a key of his own with the same design.

“You have no idea how hard it was to get the right tools to make our own Christmas Keys.” Pearl commented.

“Which is why we’re having another one of our friends come on stage to explain it.” Rad smiled.

“Garnet! Come on out here!” Amethyst called out when she came out the door. The crowd cheered from the appearance of Garnet, all she did was smile from the approval from her fans, happy that things haven’t changed nearly three years since Steven Universe Future came to an end.

Upon heading up the stage, Pearl handed Garnet her microphone as she stood in front of the crowd. “Me and Steven came up with that idea since the day Christmas came last year.” Garnet smiled. “Over the course of this year, it took a lot of time to find the right tools for creating keys. If you thought making lightsabers at Galaxy Edge was complicated, this will put that to shame.”

“She’s not lying.” Rad commented.

“If any of you saw a Santa magic key once in your lives, raise your hand.” Only a few people raised their hands, especially since they never had those keys due to high prices elsewhere. “Bismuth made several of the models from the top of the keys. Nearly all the characters' heads with their names inserted in front of magic keys.”

She noticed a young boy raising his hand as she pointed at him. “Is that a real name on Santa's hat?” He asked.

“Yes. Steven and K.O. will do the honors of adding your name on your personalized, customizable Christmas Key.”

The crowd found the idea of designing their own key a huge opportunity to show their passion for both passionate cartoons.

“The price of one key is a hundred dollars, but trust me, one key will unlock what’s really important, it’ll help us remember you if you ever come back.”

After speaking her final words, she gave the microphone back to Pearl as Rad turned the projector off. “With that being said.” Pearl smiled. “This presentation is over.”

“It’s time to finally open Gem & Pow Card Yule.” Rad said as all the curtains in the cabin opened thanks to the security. Everyone can literally see nearly everything on the lower floor, eager to begin shopping once they head to the upper floor.

In short order, every shop is filled with customers getting decorations, desserts, and pow cards with their favorite characters. The main stars are everywhere, upstairs, downstairs, it was a blast when it finally happened. Even if it’s only for the Christmas season, it will be an amazing twenty five days from now on.

In the main hallway of the cabin, Lapis and Enid just finished taking their pictures with teenage girls as Enid ate gingerbread figures of herself. “Working overnight may have been a pain throughout this year, but at least the cabin’s finally open.” Enid replied.

“Granted I still have to fly down with the sledders outside, but it’s a breath of fresh air to be indoors for a bit.” Lapis smiled.

“Hey girls.” Carol walked up to them with a box of ornaments in her arms. “When will Steven and my son arrive? They should’ve made their performance at the presentation.”

“Well they were gonna do that, but K.O. helped the kids with their gingerbread house while Steven’s fixing a light from the Christmas trees outside.” Enid answered.

“In fact, when they declined, they wanted to have their own Christmas moment in their own way in this cabin.” Lapis replied.

Carol thought that the Santa magic key presentation would be enough to make a good finale before the shop’s opened. But her son never told her what he wanted when this day came. “You do realize that the Santa magic key section isn’t going to be available without them right?”

“Don’t worry, they'll be back as soon as possible.” Enid replied, eating her gingerbread. “The store just opened, they’re will be at least three customers who’ll be willing to pay a hundred dollars for a Santa magic key.”

“That is, if they are famous customers.” Lapis commented.

In the upper floor of Gem & Pow Card Yule, nearly fifteen people searched the merchandise of many shirts and pajamas Cartoon Network had been working on with the fashion brands. Lars is in charge of the bakery, all the while Beardo hands out paper plates for people who want to eat in the cabin.

“Alright.” Mr. Gar called out, carrying a box of Christmas snow globes. “So far, I’ve got a complaint that Steven and K.O. aren't here yet.”

“Yeah but you need to understand there are twenty four cabins here.” Lars replied, placing some cookies in the bag. “We may have used this cabin before, just without this whole store idea.”

“Just sayin, it’s only a matter of time until more people are aware of the main stars absences.”  

“We have twenty four more days, today is just the first of December.”

“And I doubt people would really want to meet their favorite main characters on the second day after opening day.” Beardo commented.

With everything turning out better than expected, the customers completely forgot about Steven and K.O.’s asbances. But as long as the other stars keep them company, it’ll buy time unless it gets worse.

“Once I’ll place these globes on the shelves, I’ll call Steven.” Mr. Gar said. After a few minutes, Mr. Gar heads downstairs, taking out his phone while looking out the window.

Meanwhile, Bismuth came out with the sealed Santa magic key boxes in the cart. She walked up to Peridot who’s been handing out shining ornaments to raise more money. “Hey Peridot, are you sure of this whole Santa magic key idea?” She asked.

“What do I know, I haven’t seen Steven nor K.O. all day.” Peridot replied.

“Well I’m not gonna let these go to waste.”

Then Spinel came in from the front entrance with a young girl with two of her parents. “I trust you two wonderful guardians, your daughter would love it here.” She smiled.

“But she’s never been a fan of either show.” Her father said.

“Don’t you think you would rather have her enjoy what she watches the most involving Cartoon Network shows?” Her mother asked.

Spinel then looked down at the young girl, who felt confused rather than excited. “You said I would take a picture with Sparkle Cadet?”

“You will, I’ll make sure she’ll come over as soon as she can.” Spinel said, hugging the young girl. “In the meantime, check around in the Gem & Pow Card Yule.” She then stretched her neck to the two parents. “At least have her give this place a chance?”

“If you don’t stretch like that, we'll give it ten minutes.” Her mother said, backing away slightly.

When the two parents looked around with their daughter, Spinel walked up to Bismuth and Peridot. “Was that really a good idea to have a non fan being taken to a cabin she’s not interested in?” Bismuth asked.

“You never know, if she enjoys it here, her friends might be non fans.” Spinel smiled.

“If one of them watches the first episodes and they’re not invested, then they’re not gonna be fans.” Peridot replied. “Especially when the main stars aren’t here.”

Spinel did what she could to spread more holiday cheer after her three years here. But witnessing zero Christmas moments in the cabin, she’s not gonna pass by her chances of missing it.

“Spinel, as much as we’re happy you’re making contributions, Steven and K.O. will please a lot of people if they arrive.” Bismuth commented. “So far, everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.”

“You two know this celebration for experience, you made moments that were unforgettable, I want to do something like that.”

A fourteen year old girl, just came downstairs after looking through the shop upstairs. She is one of the fans who got into Steven Universe after it came to an end. She didn’t get the chance to go to any of the conventions when the show was at its prime. She may enjoy the best moments, it didn’t change the fact she didn’t meet any of the stars when she got the chance.

“Excuse me?” She turned to Mr. Gar who’s still on the phone. “Do you know where Steven and K.O. are at?”

“I’m working on that.” Mr. Gar replied. “But it’s gonna take awhile.”

After receiving the answer, the girl sat next to the nearest bench in the cabin. Nobody was sitting there with their attention towards the necessities of the shop. She found all of those good, but nothing compares to meeting the main stars face to face.

“If you really want an unforgettable moment, the unexpected has to happen.” Peridot commented.

“That’s impossible.” Spinel lowered her head. Just when she headed straight to the vending machines, her attention was glued to the girl sitting all alone. She acknowledged all the customers all around her spending their money, but not a single one felt down, especially during Christmas. She decided to sit down with her, much to the teenager’s surprise.

“Spinel?” The girl lifted her head up.

“Something wrong?” She wrapped her arm around the teen.

“Just wish Steven and K.O. were here.” She answered.

“Yeah, there were a few complaints lately, but there’s nothing we can do right now.”

The teenanger rolled her eyes, as if it wasn’t anymore obvious ever since the presentation started. “They’re either doing a huge surprise, or really late.”

Spinel had met her fans in conventions before, especially with mental people, but for normal people, sitting all alone with no friends is rare to come across. “Can you answer me just one question?”

“Sure.”

“When did you become a fan of both shows?”

With a question she answered to one of her classmates back at school, she took a deep breath while being honest. “I came over to my friend's house and Steven Universe The Movie was airing.”

Spinel was stunned, knowing she made her debut in the most participated films of Cartoon Network. “What was the first scene you saw?”

“Other Friends.”

Spinel was even more excited considering it was her first appearance. “Really? You didn’t watch the first ten minutes?”

“I was doing my homework assignment. It was far more important.”

“Oh, that explains a lot.” As Spinel kept her excitement to herself, she continued the subject. “What did you think of me?”

“A great character. Just upset you’re only used in two episodes in future.”

“It was a crazy production cycle, we'd be here forever if I told you everything.”

“You don’t have to, I’ve read the articles.” As she placed her hands on her knees, she lowered her head again. “In case you don’t know this, I’m not a fan of OK K.O.!, it just didn’t catch my attention or interest.”

Spinel wanted to help out the cast of OK K.O.! when it came to non fans, just like the child she took in with her parents. “You never know, I mean, the animation is creative and it’s hilarious with all the zingy moments.”

“Zingy just isn’t my thing.”

“Then what’s your thing for a show like OK K.O.!?”

“Probably expecting the main character to not be similar to Steven?”

The question really got to Spinel, even if it had nothing to do with her character. “Look, I know there are a lot of people upset with Infinity Train’s cancellation, but if it had anything to do with grown characters in later seasons, it wasn’t.” She retorted. “But the thing is, children are related to child characters. Granted they were older characters in the spotlight, but still.”

The teen remembered watching Adventure Time, Regular Show, and The Amazing World Of Gumball with one of them having adult characters. But she felt uninvested with later entries with the character ages being younger.

“About what you said about Infinity Train…to me, it was a breath of fresh air. And in OK K.O.!, I just don’t think it’s a show for me to enjoy. I prefer shows with a meaningful setting.”

The gem took the words in consideration, however she knows what a show is other than being meaningful. If only the teen knew about it soon, K.O. would’ve given her a massive welcome for the first time.

Mr. Gar, after putting his phone away, just saw Steven and K.O. in the middle of the streets, making their way to their cabin. Mr. Gar took notice as he took out his air horn. He stood in the middle, while pressing the air horn for a solid fifteen seconds. Everyone including the cast turned their attention to Mr. Gar as he turned off his air horn.

“Steven and K.O.! are arriving in just a minute, let’s give them a huge holiday welcome.” Mr. Gar called as he waited for the door to be open. Everyone is thrilled to the max. but they all listen to Mr. Gar’s call. The cast of both shows came out of their working stations to look at the front door of the cabin. But as for Spinel, she may get the opportunity coming her way if the teen herself works out for her.

The doorknob began to turn as the door was being pushed open, as Steven and K.O. step foot in the cabin out in the open. “Merry Christmas, Steven and K.O.!!!” Everyone shouted.

“Merry Christmas everyone!” Both Steven and K.O. cheered with Santa outfits on. People were cheering including the cast, happy that they arrived before it was too late.

“Sorry we were late.” Steven closes the door behind him. “Christmas errands got in the way after we read the emails.”

“The kids really wanted me to make their gingerbread houses badly.” K.O. commented.

“Well at least you two finally arrived.” Bismuth said, walking up to them. “Especially since we can have fans make the Santa magic keys with you.”

“Put them in the room where we’re working.” Steven smiled. “We'll work on it as soon as we find a customer.”

As Bismuth headed straight to the room, Steven and K.O. met with their friends after spending time apart. The teen herself has the chance to meet Steven for the first time in her life, but before she stands up, Spinel stops her.

“You want me to help you out?” Spinel whispered to her ear. “Do you have a hundred dollars for the Santa magic key?”

“Yes I do.” She replied.

“Let me take care of it.” Spinel gets up as she heads to Steven and K.O. She stretched her arms, wrapping around Steven and K.O.’s body for a hug, much to their surprise. “Happy Holidays my best friends!”

“Hi Spinel.” Steven smiled. “How’s the place going?”

“Perfect!” She placed the two down.

“Can’t wait to make the Santa magic key with anyone really.” K.O. replied.

“Good because there’s a teen who’ll…want to meet…one of you.”

Steven, K.O. and their friends became a bit confused from the way Spinel worded it. “Wait, you’re telling us that he or she is a fan of one show, but not both?” Pearl wondered.

“Pretty much.”

Steven and K.O. thought about doing the Santa magic key alone if the truth’s legit, but it’s also a chance to give first impressions for that someone. “Who’s that customer?”

Spinel pointed at the teenager still sitting on the bench alone, with the stars turning their attention to her. The teen took notice with the stars of Steven Universe staring at her, but also stars of OK K.O.!, the show she knows the least.

After paying the hundred dollars, Steven and K.O. took their first customer in the Santa magic key room located on the lower floor of the cabin with a view of the mountains. The teen witnesses the expensive exclusive key equipment of the shelves, the many options she can make, but choosing wisely on the tools she used and the design she pictured.

Steven placed the tools on the table with K.O. sitting next to the teen. “So…you never watched my show, nor are you interested in it?” He asked, looking up to the teen with a sad tone.

“Do you really need to know the answer?” She replied.

“He’s not the same age as I am.” Steven spoked. “He still feels upset when any Cartoon Network fan doesn’t acknowledge his show.”

“Numbuh Three from KND took time to get over it.”

“But not for K.O.”

The teenager encountered so many stars of past and present and none of them mind if she never watched their shows. But for sensitive people like K.O. feeling down, she’d never witnessed that type of depression upon arrival.

As she took some of the tools, she gave K.O. the head models. “I was gonna pick the head models myself but…pick which head model you think I would prefer.”

With the head models displayed on the table in front of him, K.O. looked at the head models of his best friends. “What kind of request is that?”

“Give me a character from your show that might make me interested in watching your show.”

“You don’t want a head model from my show?” Steven wondered.

“I can still use one of your accessories for the other models.” As she put some of the pieces together, K.O. took time to look at the head models from his show. Steven and the teen worked together to put the tools together while finding the letters to spell her name.

“Spinel told me that you enjoyed her in my movie.” Steven said. “You sure you don’t want her as your head model?”

“I’m giving him a chance, we can still use Spinel’s gem though.”

K.O. remembered the times he watched Steven Universe even years before the hire ups of Cartoon Network greenlit his show. And one of the most popular highlights were the LGBT representation involving Ruby and Sapphire. Then it got to him once he showed that type of representation in his show. “My friend Enid is in a relationship with Red Action.” He spoked.

“Who’s Red Action?” The teen asked which K.O. showed a head model of Red Action herself.

“There are only three episodes centering around them, aside from the last episode.”

As K.O. gave her the head model, she liked the hair color of the character. “What does she do?”

“She travels through time.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Are you interested in time travel?” Steven asked to which the teen nodded. “Now that’s something you're interested in K.O.’s show.”

“I’ll consider watching those episodes when I get back to my hotel. Just understand I can’t guarantee I’ll watch your show for real.”

K.O. then came up with another idea. “Maybe when we’re done, do you want to meet Red Action yourself?”

“Yeah, she’s in the building right now.” Steven added.

“I guess I could.” The teen spoked.

“Trust me, you will make Enid happy once you know her from the first Red Action episode.” K.O. smiled.

“True, but it’s her friend I’m thinking about.”

After spending twenty minutes, the teen, Steven, and K.O. finished designing the key. Upon exiting the room, they went back to the entrance of the cabin. When K.O. noticed Enid walking away from the vending machines after taking her picture. Then the teen notices Red Action waiting in the middle with all the vending machines being used.

“I want you to know she’s not her friend, she’s actually her girlfriend.” Steven replied.

“Really?” The teen smiled.

“Go ask them yourselves.”

As the teen heads her way, both Steven and K.O. looked at each other. “You sure she’ll give my show a chance?” K.O. wondered.

“If not, then she’s not ready yet.” The two then sat together on the bench. “Keep in mind K.O., they’re are still more people willing to give your show a chance.”

“But what if the roles were reversed with a fan knowing my show, but not your’s?” K.O. commented.

“I wouldn’t feel depressed, I’ve been to many conventions.”

“Yeah I would've known how that feels.”

With the two stars sitting together, they’re also thankful they arrived in time. They would’ve made their performance the highlight of the presentation, but they were ahead of making their fans satisfied on their first day here.

Steven noticed it’s close to getting dark outside, over the last several nights before today, he and K.O. spend hours together for a surprise for anyone who’s inside. “I think it’s time.”

“Ooh I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

The two got off the bench while heading their way to the switches located in the living room. After receiving help from his friends, Steven can remember which button to press. “When I say now, you press this red button.” He pointed at it.

“No problem.” As K.O. placed his hand on the red button, Steven placed his hand on the green button.

“Now.” As K.O. pressed the red button, Steven pressed the green button. All the lights in the cabin turned off but Christmas lights decorated from every angle have turned on. Everyone took notice of their surroundings, the kids were mesmerized with the colors glowing around them.

Steven and K.O. stood in the middle of the stage. “Merry Christmas!” They cheered, getting the attention from everyone inside. They all head back to the living room, witnessing the two stars together celebrating the happiest time of the year.

“We all know we don't celebrate Christmas in our shows, since the holiday doesn’t exist in them.” Steven replied. “But our shows aren’t always about celebrating holidays.”

“There may be themes, but our creators have different visions for what our shows should be like.” K.O. added. “Granted we’ve read the fan mail for a holiday episode like Christmas but…the creators never take requests.”

“Believe us, every time we show those to our bosses, they keep saying no. Nothing we can do about it.” Enid commented.

“And don’t get us started when those desperate fans wanted a kissing episode during Valentine’s Day.” Rad added.

“They’re maybe loyal, but still a bit creepy.” Lapis added.

“But now we have this. The Gem & Pow Card Yule.” Steven introduces the cabin itself. “Since we’re lucky enough, the Cartoon Network exclusives allow us to do this only when it’s night time.”

“If you want enough proof we want to celebrate Christmas.” K.O. lifted his hands up. “Everything around you is your answer, loud and proud.”

The crowd applauded from the two Cartoon Network stars, even if they’re not gonna be around for that long, they will always spread the news about this new addition of the cabins. Garnet and Carol went on stage, picking up Steven and K.O.

“I’m sure this cabin won’t be going away any time soon.” Garnet smiled.

“I’m so proud of you.” Carol said, hugging her son.

“Trust me, we’re gonna do our best to keep this going.” K.O. smiled.

“And the best out of all of this, we can spend more time with each other. As the best crossover any new fan had dreamed of.” Steven replied.

As they both got off the stage, they went back to do their thing, celebrating Christmas the way the fans wanted from them. And Steven never lies when he’s willing to make anything a reality, all the while helping out K.O. when newcomers come his way for the first time.

[almaqead]

"The Footsteps of Allah." From Surah 6, Al An'am, the Cattle.

Muhammad was clearly critical of the Kosher system of eating. He thought it was a catch trap the Jews completely misunderstood. Within the Quran he tries to explain it but for the most part, he says "Tell me if you understand it," Muhammad said, "And be truthful."

Fortunately, now we do understand it and there's no need to hook electric cables up to the nipples and balls of Jews and turn up the volts for sticking with it, for not allowing their religion to die out. There is indeed something valuable hidden inside the rules for Kosher, as we are about to find out.

6:142-147:

And of the grazing livestock are carriers [of burdens] and those [too] small. Eat of what Allah has provided for you and do not follow the footsteps of Satan. Indeed, he is to you a clear enemy.

[They are] eight mates - of the sheep, two and of the goats, two. Say, "Is it the two males He has forbidden or the two females or that which the wombs of the two females contain? Inform me with knowledge, if you should be truthful."

And of the camels, two and of the cattle, two. Say, "Is it the two males He has forbidden or the two females or that which the wombs of the two females contain? Or were you witnesses when Allah charged you with this?

Then who is more unjust than one who invents a lie about Allah to mislead the people by [something] other than knowledge? Indeed, Allah does not guide the wrongdoing people."

Say, "I do not find within that which was revealed to me [anything] forbidden to one who would eat it unless it be a dead animal or blood spilled out or the flesh of swine - for indeed, it is impure - or it be [that slaughtered in] disobedience, dedicated to other than Allah .

But whoever is forced [by necessity], neither desiring [it] nor transgressing [its limit], then indeed, your Lord is Forgiving and Merciful."

And to those who are Jews We prohibited every animal of uncloven hoof; and of the cattle and the sheep We prohibited to them their fat, except what adheres to their backs or the entrails or what is joined with bone. [By] that We repaid them for their injustice. And indeed, We are truthful.

So if they deny you, [O Muhammad], say, "Your Lord is the possessor of vast mercy; but His punishment cannot be repelled from the people who are criminals."

Commentary:

The Values in Gematria are the only way to understand what is Kosher and what is not and why:

a. Of the grazing livestock. Grazing livestock are students of the Quran who are not ready to be independent contributors to society. Their company one can keep.

The Value in Gematria is 10289, יבח‎ט, "choose who you praise."

b. Eight mates, sheep and goats. Sheep will follow their teacher's instructions, goats are kind of stupid and will not.

The Value in Gematria is 13981, יגטח‎א‎, "you will."

c. And of the camels. Camels carry the oral tradition, the ways the Quran, the religion, and its traditions are taught. It is the duty of camels to lead the way to the oasis by providing the faith and its potential benefit to humanity with a positive testimony. In order for this to work, for it to be believable, a camel has to become a sheik, or community leader.

The Value in Gematria is 14953, ידטהג‎‎ ‎, " to reach for God." The most famous verse of them all from the Quran, 5:33 says:

"O you who have believed, fear Allah and seek the means [of nearness] to Him and strive in His cause that you may succeed."

d. Who is more unjust or one who invents a lie. Remember, inventors are forbidden. The Value in Gematria is 10206, י‎ב‎אֶפֶסו, "they will return to Ephesus." = they will go to the back of the line. e

e. So unless it is a dead animal... Dead animals are persons who waste our time with nonsense. As the verse above says "they go to the back of the line."

Kosher food, without a proper context is a pig, one does not eat it, one feeds it and then rolls one's eyes. Kosher conduct is not a dead animal or a waste of time as we are learning.

Impure foods are those that lead us into sin, and "foods" or dogmas dedicated to the creation of graven images like Donald Trump are absolutely forbidden.

The Value in Gematria is 12157, יבאה‎ז, yabah z, "but do important Zayin, the Eye of the Fountain" = the watery wisdom of other faiths. As we have seen the Quran is unafaid of wrangling the truth out of other religions.

Provided there is proof a religious doctrine can successfully plumb the depths of the unseen, far past the ordinary often ridiculous reality, the Quran welcomes insight from other religions.

f. But whoever is forced by necessity.

The Value in Gematria is 7726, זזבו‎, "they moved."

As we learned earlier in this forum, Muhammad said God wants us to be educated and worldly, to know as much as we can about the world. This is repeated in this verse in Ankabut: 20:

Say, ˹O Prophet,˺ “Travel throughout the land and see how He originated the creation, then Allah will bring it into being one more time. Surely Allah is Most Capable of everything.

g. And those who are Jews. This explains the essence of Kosher. A Jew does not just read scripture, he explores the world in search of a way of abandoning it in favor of the truth it implies about the way of life prescribed by the God of Israel.

The Religion is like a stamp on the envelope, it is the price we pay to learn how to be civilized persons. Alone, religion is of no value to us at all. We need the well-defined end point, called Shabat in order to discover why we practiced to begin with. Islam is very clear about this as well. For a Muslim it is Zakah.

For Christians, all one has to do is ask "where is grace?" If they have none their relationship to their religion is not full or complete.

The Value in Gematria is 14050, ידאֶפֶסהאֶפֶס, yadapeshapesh, "knowledge of the Passover through the ankle." One has to leave Egypt and all of societies vain, vacuous, false, and unfeeling ways behind and cleave to God instead if one truly wants to be one of His sheep.

h. So if they deny you. The Value in Gematria is 9014, טאֶפֶס‎אד, tapesad, "you lost."