#somehow i’ve become a gossip blog

[firstkanaphans]

i keep hearing about est flirting with this male model without any details about what actually happened and I am WEAK and need to know everything so are you kindly able to satisfy my terrible nosiness? 🙏

I would LOVE to. So last week Est and Dunk went to an event and while they were there, Est was seen exchanging numbers with some white dude.

(via)

The fandom made a joke out of it (“William come get your man!”) and the next thing you know, “Est and that white guy” was trending, which prompted William to post this:

William: I’ve been dumped! Who was that young man from yesterday krup 😡

Est: Just a friend. Are you jealous kruppp?

William never responded to Est’s “Are you jealous?” but did talk about it during the LOL press tour in an interview that was released today.

(via)

And that is the story of the white dude.

[chilschuck]

hi there!!! I love your blog!!! I know you’re mainly a Chilchuck girlie, but I saw that you occasionally do Laios headcanons/drabbles, and I’m a massive Laios simp. if you have the time and inclination, would you maybe write about Laios realizing he’s falling for a reader who is also autistic like he is? and they’re both so in love with each other, but they don’t realize it bc they’re both idiots, so the party has to set them up lmao

OBLIVIOUS (IN MY LOVE FOR YOU).

꒰ warnings: ꒱ mutual pining, hopelessly in love silly guys, gn!reader. sfw as always!

꒰ wc: ꒱ 1.3k

✦ i hope this turned out how you wanted it!!! i felt bad that i’ve been doing so much chil and nothing for the others, so i was happy that you sent this request!! i’m not sure how to feel about this, but i’m happy to get something out for you!!! <333 honestly i’m worried this turned out badly, but alas, i feel that way about everything asdfdhgjhk. enjoy lovely!!!!

It was more than obvious to anyone but the two of you, much to the party’s displeasure. The mutual pining between you had been a constant back and forth for what felt like ages, and it was almost humorous how in denial it seemed you were.

Laios always spent time chatting with you before bed, his soft voice carrying so much warmth. You always noted how fuzzy your head felt whenever he’d talk about something he was especially interested in. It was almost heartbreaking to part with him to finally rest, longing to continue the conversation for as long as you could.

Little did the two of you know that the rest of the party had their eyes on you, tired sighs leaving each of them. This was every night now, and the fact neither of you were making an effort to come to terms and admit what you were feeling was beginning to become tiresome.

Chilchuck huffed, head in the palm of his hand. “I can’t believe that this is still going on. I’m tired of it.”

Marcille tutted, but the frustration at both of your ignorances was seeping through. “There’s got to be something we can do. They’re obviously so in love with each other...”

And right she was, with how absolutely enamored Laios had become. He’d never felt this way about anyone, the feeling seeping into his bones slowly but surely. With every smile you gave him, words of encouragement, or even reassuring touches, you made yourself at home in his mind and heart. Laios was content with just the whispered conversations and adventures together, not quite piecing together the entire situation just yet.

Marcille was not so sure that was something to be content with. Izutsumi was also getting fed up with the constant beating around the bush, and Chilchuck was sick and tired of watching this ordeal occur. The three of them had decided that enough was enough, and through gossip-like whispers, they decided on a course of action.

“I’ll try and talk to Laios,” Chilchuck settled, although he wasn’t entirely happy with the idea of helping an inner party relationship unfold. It was even harder to watch the two of you continuously pine after each other blindly, so he chose what he believed was the lesser of two evils. “You two convince you-know-who to get some one on one time with him somehow.”

Marcille hummed, finger tapping her chin. “Maybe we could get Senshi to cook something up just for the two of them, get them on a date of some sort.”

Izutsumi flicked her tail in annoyance at this entire scenario, before giving her own opinion. “Let’s just get them stuck in a trap or something.” At that, the elf across from her shook her head adamantly.

“Although that might work another time, I think setting them up would work best. We’ll all conveniently go off somewhere and leave the two of them to talk it out. Somehow…”

Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to get the two of you alone together. Laios would explain something about a monster your party had encountered earlier, delighted at your interest in anything he had to say. Before he knew it, the rest of the party had excused themselves after dinner, leaving just you and him with a cooked meal and unsaid words hanging in the air.

Even earlier, Chilchuck had decided to try and drill it into Laios’ skull that perhaps coming to terms and admitting what he was feeling wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Grasping for straws, Laios tried to create excuses that what he felt for you was just that of a close friend. There was no way he was falling in love, right? Yet, the look Chilchuck had given him shut him up quickly.

“You think friends just look at each other with that lovesick face you’re always making? And it’s not exactly hard to see just how much you care about them. It’s actually pretty obvious.” The half-foot grit out, floored that Laios still hadn’t figured out just how deeply he had fallen.

Marcille and Izutsumi had a similar problem with you, finding that you were convinced what you felt was just that of a deep friendship, of course you weren’t actually absolutely smitten with the man. Giving each other a knowing look, Marcille continued her prodding.

“I think there’s more to this,” the way she said your name so softly held your attention. “You need to talk with him. Maybe talk through just what you’re feeling.”

So now, as you took another bite of your dinner, you tried to figure out just what you were feeling. Laios was doing the same, and the silence, which was never a problem before, now hung with tension.

Both of you tried to speak, before signaling the other to continue, before giving a light laugh at the awkwardness. It wasn’t that just being in each other’s company was the problem, but more so that there was so much left unsaid.

Laios ran his hand through his hair, giving you that tender smile you had come to love so much. “You first.”

Another laugh left you, before your current train of thought followed through your words. “So I was wondering… Have you ever been in love before, Laios?”

That caught him off guard, swallowing hard before thinking of the right thing to say. “Well… I, uh…” A beat of silence followed as you let him find his words. “I wasn’t sure before today. What about you?”

Trying not to get your hopes up, or have the flame within you extinguished so easily, you smiled. “Same here, actually. I think…” You trailed off, just staring at his rosy cheeks and intent gaze making your heartbeat a little faster. Setting your plate to the side, you bit your tongue for a moment. Talk through what you’re feeling… You can do that.

“I guess I didn’t really realize, but… Lately, I’ve been really eager to be around you.” Your voice tried to fight back the tremors rising within you. Before you could continue, Laios grabbed your hand and gave you that intent expression again.

“Me too! I mean, I always really enjoy our talks. I look forward to them a lot.” He spoke a tad out of breath, trying to reign in how he was feeling. Another beat of silence, followed by the clearing of his throat.

“I think I’m in love with you.” You both muttered at the same time, before the feeling of both shock and excitement coursed through you. There was… no possible way, right? But with that doting smile and lovesick gaze he was sending your way, you began to think he did feel the same.

“Thank the gods,” you whispered, a huff of relief leaving your lips. “I had to have Marcille and Izutsumi make me realize.”

Laios laughed, cheeks flushed with delight. “Yeah, Chilchuck definitely gave me a talking to. I think Senshi tried to help me realize, too. It was definitely interesting.”

Both of you shared light giggles before Laios gently pulled you into an embrace. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, nuzzling into his neck.

“Sorry it took me so long.” He whispered, inhaling deeply, the air leaving him in a content sigh. Your eyes fluttered shut, shaking your head slightly in reply. “No need. That’d mean I’d need to apologize too.”

You pressed sweet kisses to his cheek, to his nose, to his forehead. Laios beamed, intertwining your fingers as he spoke from the heart just what he had been trying to come to terms with. You did your best to do so, too.

Chilchuck, Marcille, Senshi, and Izutsumi all let out sounds of relief at watching the two of you around the corner. Getting both of you to finally realize the extent of your feelings was difficult, but oh so worth it in the end.

“Finally,” Chilchuck grumbled, before scratching the back of his neck. “That only took, what? Forever?”

Senshi grunted, trying to recall just how long it had been. Izutsumi even watched as Marcille rocked back and forth on her feet, a certain sparkle in her eye.

She’d have to get the two of you to be open more often.

— dividers by @/cafekitsune!! <33

[thezfc]

"I’ve always had a feeling Tom doesn’t actually take criticism very well in general. He’s probably one of those people who really just excelled at a lot of things all his life and throughout his career and then he got OVER THE TOP criticism for TS and especially the GG speech....

I think anon's right. He can't really deal with criticism and rejection. And when that happened for the first time in his career he curled in on himself and never recovered. He's been a different person ever since 🐍. Sometimes when I watch old stuff with the still confident Tom, it is almost painful to see how distanced he has become and how he now always looks a little afraid in public. I guess he has started to take himself and his brand too seriously at some point."

Everyone stop and give the crazy Zawe hero-worshippers the attention they're demanding, because someone screenshotted this and sent it to everyone's favorite Tumblr troll: drwhohiddles, and now those crazy fake fans are losing their minds over a couple of opinions they don't agree with, because apparently they never matured beyond middle school and thus never learned how to get along with those who disagree with them. And somehow they've taken the above and linked it to the "Tom is depressed" theory and ... racism against Zawe. Their ability to drag racism and Zawe into every internet conversation is truly impressive and I would admire this ability if I didn't feel so sorry for these people because they must truly lead sad, uneventful, and depressed lives to keep doing this constantly to complete strangers on the 'net. It's funny how they point fingers at us all the time for exchanging a bit of gossip about a few celebs, when here they are acting far worse then anything we've said on here. And can someone please explain what the hell Zawe has to do with the above mentioned because I'm still struggling to understand that leap. Also, I see nothing racist or derogatory towards Zawe in the above mentioned so again, I need an explanation here because I don't speak crazy. Zawe is a grown-ass woman who does not need you and your little gaggle to defend her especially if you're going to continue trying to defend her from something that is barely an issue because 99% of the fandom loves her, and the constant false racism accusations are immature and makes you look like the boy who cried wolf. Yes there are a few actual racists out there, but they are on Twitter and I'm pretty sure Miss ZFC has them blocked on here, so kindly crawl back into the hole from whence you came and leave us to our gossiping and theorizing. You should know what those things look like since you people do EXACTLY the same things on your own blogs.

I was going to delete this but then I decided to point out that you’re basically doing the same thing that they do and then yelling at them for five paragraphs about it. Just ignore it. I don’t care. I never look. Let them get all up in arms and their panties in a twist about every single thing that is said on this blog but you don’t need to go over that blog and then get your panties in a twist and come back over to mine and report it. So I’m posting this as an ask to all of you to not do this anymore.

Let’s pretend they don’t exist. Everything is better that way.

[hc-axl]

I've laid out the basics of my life's current plot, as an introduction to my journals, or blog, or whatever you want to call it.

It is the last day of Pride Month 2024, and I am eager to create, having turned twenty a month ago, and one course away from finishing community college later this summer, I find myself at an evolving stage in my young life, where I’d soon have to figure out what I wanted to do with it. Before today, I had spent a week at Rehoboth Beach in Delaware, taking in the sun, and praying to the sea. Most importantly, I had spent the week reading Patti Smith’s “Just Kids” while lying in the sand, underneath the sun, listening to the ocean waves closely, all as I admired Patti’s words. Robert Mapplethorpe and Patti Smith’s lives fascinated me, their love for art, for one another, and poetry moved me more than most other books I’ve read, for Patti’s story starts with the summer she was twenty, and her pursuit for freedom and her vow to make something of herself resonated deep within me, impulsing me to come home and write, after months of not having drawn, or painted, or sculpted, or collaged under a professor’s wing, I’d seek refuge from artistic drought in my own words, my own thoughts, typed out for others to read. 

A lot in my life this past week has felt both revitalizing and eye-opening, after maybe getting too used to seeing everything as transitory, fleeting memories dear to me which I hugged and begged to never disappear for my own sanity. When I was away I would text my great-friend Chloe every night and day, she had traveled to Korea the same week I was at Rehoboth, we were thirteen hours apart, during my mornings she’d recap me on the day she had before she fell asleep, and at night I’d tell her about my day as she woke up. Chloe and I are always in sync, somehow always going through similar events in our own lives, yet living far from each other. I don’t know if it’s because we’re both Air Suns with Virgo moons or just coincidently similar.  When she comes back to Maryland in May after being in Toronto for school we pick up right where we had left off when she came back for Christmas, and in December we’d pick up where we left off in August. We have mastered this routine for two years now, always in contact, always honest, and always learning from each other's similar experiences whenever we’d debrief. It was almost as if we’d always be the two sixteen-year-olds who played video games religiously while stuck at home during the pandemic, always apart but never drifting or misunderstood. 

During the middle of my stay in Delaware, my friends, Val and Benji came to visit me for the day. I’ve known Val since we were thirteen and obsessed with K-pop, our friendship has already been cemented by years of knowing each other’s best and worst sides of one another, she’s like a sister to me or someone I would’ve married if I were straight because I knew I needed her as a lifelong companion. I sometimes picture us at eighty, gossiping about people we knew from middle school and high school. “You’re like family” we’d often say to each other.  Benji, like Val, is a graphic artist and designer who was introduced to me by a crazy man last spring, little did I know back then that he’d become one of my best friends and teacher. Benji is almost my complete opposite, in aesthetics, artistic interests, and ideologies, yet we mirrored each other quite well. Almost a year into our friendship, Val and Benji started dating, something I had predicted happening months prior, watching their friendship transform into what they now have has been incredibly dear to me and has taught me so many things about love, I feel lucky to have witnessed such a great love blossom from the very beginning, back when I could tell Benji like Val. I remember thinking how crazy and sweet it was watching my best friends who I spent every day with start falling in love with each other, and now they’re the couple who visits me and my family at the beach, “we’re family” I’d think in my head. I’ll forever hold on tight to the memory of us at the beach, something about it felt like a story you tell your kids, it was also a day I realized I would never be alone no matter how much I told myself I probably would end up alone, if I had them as friends I would never feel alone, even if we were in different parts of the world, the same can be said for Chloe as well.

I often think about how I’d never do everything I wanted to, could I? Could I learn every language, see every country, watch every movie, read every book, love everyone, have ten different careers? Could I also live a slow simple life with a husband and child, in which I’d commit to art and creation? Was it too pessimistic to think all the figs will rot away? Indecision has paralyzed me for so long, but I find comfort in knowing my potential is great, and unlike Sylvia Plath, I knew that every year the fig tree will bloom fresh and soft figs again, ripe for the taking. This fall I’ll be taking a gap semester, for I found myself faced with financial setbacks, but also indecisive and uncommitted to the idea of going to art school in Baltimore. The thought of not going to school from September to December scares me, will I be content just working at my service job? Maybe all this time would give me a chance to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, I picture myself in January of 2025, having already figured everything out, at a good university, being an artist.

 I always crave artistic community, but it is hard to find, I thought I had come close to it at a Fashion Club I was a part of for my two years at community college, but no real community derived from it, besides the five-ish friends who I gained from being there, I thought of everyone else there as an unorganized bunch with good style, people who knew where to shop and how to wear garments but didn’t carry any depth to them, twenty-year-olds with substance addictions, and no real appreciation for the freedom that comes with self-expression, however, they all looked good in pictures and I’d have to be thankful for the fact it was entertaining having them around. Would I need art school to be an artist? At the moment I am content with the artists in my life, Val, Benji, and my friend who I call Panini, whose music means everything to him, and I always find myself in awe of his passion for it. I hope one day we all wake up to our dream lives as artists and never stop creating, for that is my worst fear. 

It took sunburn, saltwater, and Patti Smith to help me realize how much more I could be doing, and how I had to stop pondering, and just act on it. I’m not the type to go to church every Sunday, but in Catholic tradition, dreams are more than mere subconscious thoughts; perhaps they are potentially sacred encounters and sources of divine inspiration. I’ve always thought they play a role in understanding one's purpose, discerning God's will, and finding the courage to follow a path that leads to personal betterment and that of the world. Following one's dreams, in this context, I would hope to maybe align myself with God's greater plan and live a life of meaningful purpose, love, and dedication. This was revealed to me at the beach, as I fixated on the moon’s relationship with the ocean, and how clear it was that their eternal, rhythmic dance had always been a symbol of gentle yet powerful connection to me, something that could make me want to go to church because I’d get to thank God for having placed this creation in front of me to look at whenever I wanted to feel transformed by the gravitational pull of the world around me. Now whenever I take a risk, and work on my art or writing, I’d think of how neither the moon nor God have ever failed me, so why would I live in fear of failing…

[luciivstheworld]

blog entry 002

October is always a hard month for me. I don’t know what that’s about. I have never had an objectively “good” October, at least in recent memory. And it’s not that things are outright terrible, it’s just that at this point I’m exhausted. I’m ready for Christmas. No, not even Christmas. I’m ready for the next year to start…

I was debating on going to homecoming next month because 

1. I’ve never been, and 

2. I’m a junior, so there’s not many homecomings left.

And I’ve REALLY been up and down about it. To give you an example, let’s talk about what I did last Friday.

Around noon I started to search for dresses online. At least to get an idea of what might be out there. Man oh man. Unless I want all of my assets (if you know what I mean) to be falling out of the dress, I am completely out of luck. Even looking at the dresses of my peers I’m completely shocked as to what I’m finding. Where is the mystery? Where is the modesty? I’m not a prude but come on you guys. As if I need any more reason to feel completely alienated from my peers, now I have to embark on the already stressful task of figuring out a dress that’s “cute” and “trendy” (whatever that means) that I also feel comfortable in. I’m also 5 feet tall on the dot, which is an additional challenge in and of itself.

Not to mention the fact that I’d be going by myself. And the worst part is I’ve honestly tried to scramble to find somebody to go with. I’ve asked, I’ve rallied, I’ve hinted, I’ve outright commanded (jokingly), and somehow nobody was interested in the prospect. And this would all be fine if there were at least some other acquaintances I liked that were going, but NOOOOOOOOO! A lot of the people that are going absolutely do not like me. So much so, that they have previously gone out of their way to make me feel like trash. How would homecoming be any different?

And maybe you’re thinking, “Gosh Luci, why don’t these people like you?” Which is a great question. Wanna know why? Because I don’t want to feed into their petty and demeaning teenage drama! This all further reiterates that I am just not built for young adult society. So what if I don’t want to engage in the dating scene, the gossip, or the exhaustive partying that gets romanticized? Well, that’s a criminal offense according to the high school rule book. A felony, actually. And the ruling is that if you don’t abide by such things, you will be subject to constant harassment and become a social leper. 

Okay, maybe I’m being a little over-dramatic. But it’s all (mostly) true! So why do I still want to go to homecoming despite all the reasons why I feel anxious? It’s a little thing we call,

* FOMO *

I don’t want to hold myself back because of this weird perceived notion that because I don’t abide by certain ridiculous social standards, I can’t let loose and have fun. Like I said earlier, there are only so many homecomings left. But how can I let loose and have fun if I’m standing alone, in an itchy short dress, while being harassed by people I don’t like? Maybe I shouldn’t go.

Hey, there’s always next year right?

[foryoumyheroes]

Their S/O takes them to an Asian House Party

[Midoriya + Todoroki + Bakugou + Kaminari + Kirishima] 

A/N:  Hey here’s a niche that no one asked for. 

I know that Japanese is a type of Asian but I am a wildly different type of Asian 🤣🤣, so my headcanons are based entirely off of being this other racial group. 

I just want to say that most of the time older Asian relatives really step out of line with their comments and can be really hurtful. I absolutely hate that behavior and their mindset, but for the purposes of this let’s just say that they’re not being harmful at all and it’s mostly light teasing :) If they’re like that in real life :) screw them >:) Also P.S. if these sound familiar it’s because I’ve recycled a lot of ideas from my other blog where I wrote “Asian House Party” headcanons already! 

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, hints at underage drinking  

Midoriya Izuku: 

For the longest time it has only been him and his mom, so when he enters the house and sees it packed with people his brain just goes blank because this is a family party. 

These people are all related to you somehow?? 

He asks you how you guys are all related and you’re genuinely like, “I don’t know???” You just call everyone auntie and uncle and hope for the best.  

If you start taking him to parties before he becomes a Pro, he has enough of a baby face that your older relatives and grandparents give him a red envelope without thinking too hard about it. But he gets so embarrassed and feels so bad that he ends up giving it to your mom. 

At his first party he’s supperrr nervous and wants your family to like him. He’s stuttering nearly every other syllable. 

Never leaves your side. Trails behind you like a puppy the entire time. 

After he’s been to several parties with your family, they recognize his red Nike Air Forces in the pile of shoes outside the house enough to be like, “Hey, [Name]! Your boyfriend’s here!” 

Midoriya is kinda of a pushover during the beginning of the series, and Asian families have the tendency to tease without knowing how it might sound, so he becomes an easy target until you pull him aside and tell him to argue back. 

He’s like noooo I don’t want to be disrespectful :(. He says that he’s used to bullying so this is nothing which makes you kinda sad and angry. You’re like hahahaha no. 

You two eventually get your family to stop and that’s when he’s finally indoctrinated into your fam. 

He’s kind of the quintessential Asian boyfriend? He goes to a good school, is sweet and innocent, polite to elders, etc. When he goes to the party with you your aunties are going to your cousins and say, “Why can’t you get a boyfriend like [Name].” 

Your female relatives kinda baby him because every time they see him he’s always in a new cast with another broken bone, so when there’s no more space left on the couches or the folding stools they kick your cousins off to make room for him. 

When he later becomes Pro-Hero Deku, everyone’s in love with him. He becomes the talk of the party. Everyone brags about him saying that they practically saw him grow up when they only see him once or twice a year. 

He also becomes the “cool uncle” that offers to take your younger relatives out for boba. But you pay. You have to pay or else your mom will yell at you for making the guest spend money. 

Yes, you will polite fight your own boyfriend. 

No, he will not win, but he’s determined to win one time like the shonen protag he is. 

Always leaves the party with the large trays of leftovers for him and his mom. 

Even when he’s like in his late twenties he’s still sitting at the kid’s table. 

Todoroki Shouto: 

When you first invited him to a party with your family he’s just like, “Oh. Sure.” Most of the parties he’s been to is the rich people parties that his dad took him to for publicity, so he arrives to the house in a whole suit and tie. 

Your cousins and uncles are clowning him while the older women swoon. You’re in the background panicking because everyone else is in sweats or shorts while he looks like he’s going to prom?? 

[Your auntie says, “Oh my god, he’s making such a good first impression!” 

You: Hahahaha! Yea!〔´∇｀〕

Inner You: Oh god I forgot he’s clueless ⊙▽⊙] 

Brings an expensive pastry every time because Fuyumi said it was polite. From that everyone’s like, “Oh??? You’re invited to every party from now on!” 

Becomes the source of your mom’s humble brag. “Oh, your son goes to Stanford and is studying medicine? My kid and their boyfriend are both Heroes-in-training and he’s the son of the Number One Hero — “ 

Kinda just does whatever your aunties and mom tells him to do? 

He’ll sit wherever they tell him to sit, even if it’s far away from you and he’ll even take the many family photos for you guys in the end. Even though he’s shit at photography. 

If they’re like, “Oh, you’re so skinny, you should eat some more!” He’ll just shrug and be like okay, and doesn’t stop them when they continue to put food on his plate even though he’s full and gets into a big food coma that knocks him out on the couch right away. 

Every time he appears, your aunties will just stop and say, “Oh, he’s so handsome!” 

He’s getting better at handling kids and it shows by the way he’s more willing to play with them then hang out with your cousins that are around your age. He’s in the room upstairs and is ;; just napping with them.   

The kids in the party call him Zuko.  

Before you brought him your aunts and uncles would be like, “Do you have a boyfriend?? Do you have a girlfriend??” and you would say, “Yeah, Todoroki Shouto.” And they would laugh in your face. 

NO ONE BELIEVED THAT HE WAS YOUR BOYFRIEND UNTIL YOU BROUGHT PROOF!! HERE HE IS !! IN THE FLESH!! 

I feel like he would have the most culture shock? You guys conduct yourself in such a different way than his own family and from everyone in 1-A. You guys go batshit insane. 

When you wake him up and offer to walk him to the train station to take him home, he offers to walk you back to your house as well and you say, “Oh, I’m going back to the party after this.” 

It’s almost midnight?? 

He asks you where are you going to sleep or if you’re going to sleep at all and you don’t know how to explain the concept of how you and all of your cousins and siblings are going to cram into one room upstairs and sleep on every blanket in the house on the floor while only three or four lucky relatives are able to get the bed. 

Older Asians have no filter so they will straight up say to his face that he looks nothing like his dad he’ll just go, “ :’) Thank you, that means a lot to me.” 

Before Endeavor’s redemption arc he’s prone to oversharing and one day he tells your mom that his dad is a piece of shit and his mom is in the hospital. 

Your mom, taking her sandal and holding it like a weapon: Oh? Where’s your father?? I just want to talk. Your mom is welcome to every [Surname] party from now on!! Haha! (◕ᴗ◕✿)

His brain is doing backflips trying to figure out how you’re related to everyone. 

The only guy that neatly puts his shoes off to the side at the front door. 

Bakugou Katsuki: 

At first you didn’t invite him to the party, he kinda just figures it out from how your relatives are all tagging you on social media and forces you to invite him. 

Not because you’re ashamed of him but because they’re somewhat overbearing ;; and Bakugou has no filter. 

For someone who’s so “badass” he’s super anal about the rules and punctuality. 

You tell him the party is at 18:00 and by 17:45 he goes into your house and finds you still napping with your PJs on. Even though you tell him that the party isn’t really starting at six he doesn’t listen. He forces you to get dressed and takes you to the party and whatdoyouknow no one is there yet. No one is going to be here until at least two hours after the designated time. 

He instead forces you to help the women in the kitchen prepare the food, aka he’s helping while you laze around in the living room. 

All of the women are like, “Wow! You can cook so well! [Name] you should be more like him!!” 

If this is the first time he meets your entire extended family, he’s inwardly hyping himself up to make a good first impression. If you are not Japanese, he manages to memorize several greetings in your language and the proper formalities when greeting an older relative. Then he goes in and everyone’s already drinking and screaming their throats out to karaoke. 

When he walks into the party with his black tank top and saggy pants everyone’s first thought is that he’s an Asian Baby Boy. Like he probably takes social media pictures in front of cars, is going to break your heart, goes to raves, is named Kevin Nguyen. 

Everyone is loud af at this party so they don’t really care that he’s screaming. They love teasing the shit out of him because his reactions are so fucking funny. 

When one of your uncles offers you alcohol he immediately snatches it away from you. No, you guys are underage, have an athletic lifestyle, and he’s so protective of you asdfg 

He’s been so focused on being a Hero that when your cousins play against him in video games or card games he loses horribly. He’ll just keep going, “One more round!” until he finally wins. 

Your mom forces you to do a convenience store run to get something that the party is running out of and when you come back Bakugou managed to find is way into the “women” side of the room where they’re all gossiping with him and playing poker together like they’ve been friends forever. 

Your mom honest-to-god acts like he’s more of her child than you are. 

When you guys finally get your families to meet, his mom and your female relatives are going to be so powerful together. 

Is trying his damned hardest to get through the entire party because it can go all night long and he sleeps at 8:30PM. 

Kaminari Denki: 

The KING of the Asian House Party.

Absolutely CRUSHES it at karaoke with your family. Even though he might not speak your language, he’s putting so much passion into it that no one cares anyway. 

Sings so loud that the neighbors complain. 

Your family loves him because he’s just so happy-go-lucky. The life of the party. 

He goes around eating all night and continually asks you, “Hey [Name], what’s this? What’s this one?” 

You can drop him off in the designated kids room and not see him for hours on end. He’s too busy playing video games with your cousins and siblings. 

But he’s such a sucker. Your uncles and older cousins pull him into any gambling game and he loses so bad, even if he’s gambling things like candy or food. 

Kinda gullible when your family teases him?? If you’re not Japanese they teach him an insult in your language but tell him it’s a complement or “It’s like saying, I love you more than words,” and they send him off to tell you it. 

And he acts super fucking cocky like the e-boy smirk while he’s rubbing his hands together, and biting his lip and shit. While you’re just sitting on the stool with a drink in your hand like, “Okay....” 

He tells you the insult and butchers the pronunciation already, but acts like you’re about to fall in his arms and you just ;; burst out laughing ;;; until you fall off your chair. 

Has the party time down pat. He won’t arrive until three hours later, and that’s when you tell him an earlier time than everyone else. 

Will drink anything your uncle offers up. He’s a lightweight. You end up half-carrying him half-dragging him back to his house. Nearly trips on the sea of shoes outside the front door and falls on you. 

You’re just lucky that he doesn’t discharge his Quirk randomly when he’s drunk.

Doesn’t get Asian glow.  

When your mom discovers you struggling outside she just tells him to sleep over and if this is his first party with you guys, you’re able to get the bed because he’s the guest 😌😌. If he’s been here several times before, yeah ;; you guys are going back to a pile of blankets on the floor.  

Kirishima Eijirou: 

The “big brother” figure of the party. 

The kids love him and he’s willingly playing “Heroes and Villains” with them for hours. 

Since he’s so broad they hang off of him like a limpet and he walks around with children draped around him. 

Ngl... He walks into the party dressed like all of your other male cousins. 

Basketball shorts, t-shirt, crew socks. 

He’s able to find his shoes super fast at the end of the party because he’s the only person that’s willing to wear crocs. 

Willing to go outside with your cousins to play basketball with them but he’s so out of practice that he fumbles so bad. 

After several games he gets the hang of it and isn’t deadweight to your team anymore. 

LOVES going to your family’s parties because he gets to eat whatever he wants without holding back. Eats several plates and when someone suggests going to get ice cream he’s like, /gasp/ “Ice cream???” 

They were offering the little kids, but okay, a teenager can come along too. 

You’re never too old for ice cream. 

For some reason he’s able to get along with everyone at the party?? He just has a personality that makes him easy to talk to, and by the end of the night or the next day, he’s saying goodbye to everyone by name. 

[“No, wait, [Name], I haven’t said goodbye to your cousin’s sister-in-law’s daughter yet. 

You do a double-take because even you have no idea who that is.] 

When he gets a little bit older and he’s finally allowed to move out of the kid’s table and eat with the older male relatives he’s so ;;; awkward. 

They’re just all in the garage eating, drinking, and smoking and he’s just sitting there having no idea what to do. 

Eventually he convinces you to join him in the garage because he wants your emotional support and is super shocked when you fit right in. He’ll just ;;; go back to the kid’s table. 

Can’t sing to save his life. 

You guys heard him do karaoke once and you never let him do it again. 

If one of your relatives teases him he’s able to laugh it off and not think too much about it, but if they say something that might be hurtful to you he’s so quick to shut it down. He doesn’t care that they’re blood related to you or not. 

Does not let up until they apologize. 

For some reason all of the ladies are confused af when they find out that he dyed his hair?? They’re like omg is he a secret delinquent. 

LOVES to hear your relatives talk about what you were like when you were a kid. 

It’s embarrassing af but he just laughs it off like, “It’s okay, babe! You sound like you were super cute as a kid!” 

[ingek73]

‘Royal revolutionary’ Duchess Kate’s exploitation of a murder victim was a ‘triumph’

April 05, 2021

By Kaiser

sarah everard kate

This was on everyone’s timeline over the holiday weekend and it’s just the WORST. Like, offensively bad, rage-inducing, and defying all logic. The Times of London decided to proclaim the Duchess of Cambridge “the real royal revolutionary,” because don’t you get it, Meghan was and is a feminist, a businesswoman, a self-made woman and she was torn to shreds, so now Kate wants to assume Meghan’s energy and pretend that she’s just like that, only white and therefore better. First, look at the artwork which accompanied the piece:

Absolutely offensive to actual revolutionaries, socialists, activists, advocates and basically EVERYONE. The actual article takes it to a bold new level though, suggesting that Kate’s exploitation of a murder victim (Sarah Everard) combined with her blatant Single-White-Femaling of a Black woman somehow makes Kate good, smart, keen and perfect in a sugary, gross, white supremacist way. These piece was written by Tony Allen Mills, who clearly hates women and is doing heavy drugs.

Kate’s maskless appearance at Sarah Everard’s memorial: For a moment it seemed as though the Duchess of Cambridge might become embroiled in yet another messy, polarising ruckus about pampered royals suiting themselves at the expense of the rest of us. She turned up at an unlawful gathering at Clapham Common in the middle of lockdown! She wasn’t wearing a mask! Her protection team seemed strangely unaware that earlier that Saturday morning last month, a senior police officer had warned that the vigil in south London for Sarah Everard, 33, who was abducted and murdered as she walked home at night, might be “attractive for terrorists”.

Kate was still keen to exploit: Yet somehow, the duchess still showed up, casually dressed with minimal security, with a bouquet of flowers she had picked from her palace garden. Later it was reported that she had sent a private letter of condolence to the family of the murdered woman. Hang on a minute, are we talking about the right duchess? A feminist campaigner, showing solidarity with vulnerable women, with seeming disregard for police advice and lockdown regulations?

This still doesn’t make any sense: There was an embarrassing muddle at Scotland Yard last week as senior commanders offered conflicting accounts of whether Britain’s future queen had attended the vigil legally, and whether the police had known of her attendance in advance. It emerged from an independent report into policing of the event that the senior officer in charge of the operation learnt that the duchess had been present only from a television news report after she had left. Yet Dame Cressida Dick, the Metropolitan Police commissioner, told the BBC that “the Met did know [about the visit], absolutely”. Palace sources have described Kate’s visit as private, but Dick said she was there “in the course of her duties; she’s working”.

Exploiting a murder victim is great PR for Kate: What emerged most clearly from Kate’s modestly controversial outing was not another disaster for the House of Windsor. It has turned into something of a triumph. “I think she’s played a blinder,” says Jennie Bond, a former BBC royal correspondent and author of several books on the Windsors. Unlike some of her royal relatives, Kate, 39, has barely put a foot wrong in her public embrace of worthy causes over the past few years. “She’s widely admired now as a public figure,” says Bond, “and I think she’s demonstrating that she’s very much in touch with the mood of the country.”

Penny Junor on Kate’s exploitation of Everard: Junor describes Kate’s visit to the vigil as a “wonderful gesture”. What might have turned into a made-for-tabloid tempest instead became the story of a young woman who lived in London before marrying a prince, and may have remembered what it was like to have to walk home alone at night. After the manufactured theatrics of the Sussexes’ interview with Oprah Winfrey, Junor adds, “Kate was making a very subtle point. You don’t need to make a song and dance about things. She showed up at Clapham quietly with absolutely no fanfare. I just thought it spoke volumes.”

Kate is a free spirit, you guys: The burden of royal expectation has crushed many a free spirit. The closer Kate gets to becoming Queen, the more she may be expected to conform; to be careful with her words, to avoid spontaneous excursions in the middle of a health crisis. Can she really carry on being Kate, the increasingly daring duchess? Or must she prepare to be Catherine, our smiling but silent queen? “I think what William and Kate have demonstrated is that you can have a much greater impact if you go large on a smaller number of causes,” says Bond, who like many royal watchers believes Kate will stick to non-controversial issues such as child development and mental health. She’s naturally engaged and comes across as genuine because she is genuinely interested in the topics she has espoused,” Bond adds. “I think she’ll be wise enough to stick to issues quite specific to her personality and knowledge.”

[From The Times of London]

I don’t understand the transparent attempt to obfuscate the issue of Kate’s attendance at the Everard memorial, and how Kate tried to pretend it was a private visit, when everything about it (including the sugary, offensive PR) shows that Kate was working, that she showed up maskless to a murder victim’s memorial with her security, having alerted Sky News of her presence, and then leaving the rest of the mourners to be brutalized by cops. She then leaked the information about a letter she sent to the family, which is gross and invasive, especially since AGAIN, it was clear that this is just about “work” for her. The work of repairing her battered image of a Karen who fake-cries white woman tears and tries to copy Meghan and assume Meghan’s experiences and persona as her own. As I’ve been saying, there’s something really wrong going on with Kate psychologically. It’s not *just* stupidity and laziness. She’s actively being creepy. Kate’s communications team is actively putting all of this out there, that Kate’s exploitation of the tragic murder of a young woman was “something of a triumph.” It’s offensively tone-deaf.

[myhockeyworld87]

Bubble Wrapped - Part 1

Word Count: 2,683

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language

Notes: Ok so here is basically our introduction to the Bubble Wrapped story. I have no timeline for this thing or even if it will continue, you guys let me know. As a background, this story will be about life inside Hotel X. In case you don’t know the teams inside Hotel X are the Bruins, Capitals, Flyers, Penguins and Lightning. So here we go, Happy Reading!

You'd been shocked when Hotel X had been picked as one of the hotels for the NHL to stay at when they resumed play in Toronto. Even more so when you were asked if you would take over the management of the place over the next several weeks. "Listen (Y/N) we know we are asking a lot. You'll have to live at the hotel with all the players as the NHL is really trying to keep everyone in this little bubble."

 "I understand. I've already talked to Carly about putting different measures in place when the Maple Leafs came to us before submitting their proposal." Carly was another member of the hotel staff, that served as one of their concierges. She knew the ins and outs of the city and could get tickets or dinner reservations on the drop of a dime. That was all before COVID though. Now, some restaurants were still closed and shows hadn't resumed yet. What once was a bustling city, had come to a dead stop over the last several months, though things were starting to get back to normal; well the new normal that is.

 "So we heard." You hoped the blush that crept up your cheeks couldn't be seen on the zoom call as that had become their new form of communication with you. "You've dealt with the players before, we know you can handle it. Though this time it'll be completely different with five or six teams staying there." Most of the players had always been super nice to the staff, though there were a few that could be demanding at times. You prayed they'd all push their egos aside, at least while in the hotel, though somehow you doubted that. "I think you're familiar with the NHL's protocol on their reopening, but we'll email you everything once we get it. Start putting together the staff that you want. Just some core people that you'll need."

 "I've got the right people in mind, don't worry."

 The call went for a bit longer going over specifics. The only benefit out of the whole thing was that they were giving you the Presidential Suite to stay in. Honestly, it was the least they could do; you thought. Of course, the called ending with them saying, "Don't let us down."

 As soon as it ended you called Carly making sure she was on board. "I'm just saying Car that many hockey players in the hotel; the testosterone is going to be flying around."

 "So what you're telling me is you've already packed an extra-large box of condoms."

 "Carly!" You shouted at your friend. "That's not what I was saying at all."

 "Come on (Y/N), I know you're one of Seguin's regulars when he's in Toronto."

 "I'm one of them because I can keep my mouth shut." It was true that when Tyler was in town during the summer or on a road trip the two of you always hooked up. Sort of a no strings attached relationship, though you did talk from time to time. "Besides he's not even going to be in Toronto. He's in the Edmonton bubble."

 "Oh, I didn't realize." Carly despite being from Canada was not a hockey lover, though she did appreciate the men who played the sport. "Well, maybe you should call him and get the scoop. You know find out who we need to be aware of."

 It wasn't a bad idea, not that you were going to ask him who to sleep with, but maybe it would help get a handle on who was going to be problematic, as there was no way you wanted to let the owners of the hotel down. You had a lot riding on this and after all, you couldn't put bitter rivals in one hotel and not expect some drama. "You're right. I am going to call him."

 "Ooo good, let me know what he says and if we should get more than one box of those condoms."

 You shook your head at your friend before hanging up and dialing Tyler's number. "Hey beautiful, long time no talk," Tyler said and you could almost hear the smile in his voice.

 "Hey Ty, how's quarantine life going?"

 "Ugh, don't get me started. I was not meant to be locked in my house without hockey for this long." Tyler wasn't meant to stay put anywhere too long, including relationships.

 "Well, hockey's almost back so there's that."

 "Yeah, I'm pumped about it, though I wish I was staying in Toronto instead. I know some fun that we could get up to since I have to stay in the bubble." He paused and you could clearly tell he was running different sex scenarios in his head. "I'm assuming your working at the hotel."

 "Yeah, it's kind of why I called. I'm one of the ones trapped in the bubble with you guys."

 Tyler groaned. "So, you called to ask me who you should hook up with? Cause babe, I'm not sure I'm willing to share you like that."

 "Shut up Ty, you know we're not like that. You couldn't stay faithful to one woman if you tried." Part of the reason the two of you got along so good, was the fact that you called him out on his bullshit.

 "I might if I could drag you with me everywhere." You giggled at the insinuation of being taken everywhere just so you could keep him satisfied. "You're definitely gifted with many talents (Y/N)."

 "You're not so bad yourself, but we're getting away from why I called."

 "You mean you didn't call to have phone sex with me," and you could hear his pout.

 "No, I didn't call for that. I was just curious if you had any idea who was going to give me problems while we're in this so-called bubble. I'm trying to be preemptive here."

 "Ok, but if I give you some information you at least have to promise to send me a pic of your tits." You mentally rolled your eyes at him; the boy was a horndog.

 "Fine, now spill some tea."

 "Spill some tea, what is this a gossip blog or something."

 "You're avoiding the question Ty, and I'm putting on a sweatshirt." He groaned.

 "Alright, don't get your panties in a bunch…or maybe do." It never ended with him. "I don't know a lot about some of the younger guys that are newer in the league, but my guess is they're all horny little bastards. Hell, I was when I first got in the league."

 "You still are."

 "Touché." He answered before continuing on. "So, like I probably don't have to mention the rivalries to you, but like Caps and Pens hate each other, the Flyers and Pens hate each other. Doesn't everyone just hate the Pens?"

 "I think you either love them or hate them."

 "That's true," he agreed with your statement. "The Flyers and the Caps hate each other as well and don't get me started with who hates the Bruins. Wow, who really put them all in your hotel?"

 "I'd like to know that as well." It seemed like whoever did, had a warped sense of humor and you were now going to be stuck handling the mess that they'd made. "So, basically what you're saying is that it'll be an all-out brawl at times that I'll have to clean up after."

 "Sorry babe, but I think it could be. On the bright side, we're supposed to stay on our own floors."

 "Like that's going to happen." Maybe you should designate elevators or something because you could just see Alex Ovechkin and Claude Giroux getting in one at the same time and by the time, they got to your lobby they'd both be bloody and beaten. "Anything else I should know?"

 "You seriously want me to go there?"

 "I mean...if you want to." You certainly weren't going to ask but if he offered the information you'd tuck it away for later that's for sure.

 He sighed heavily, "You know I hate this, but like Tom Wilson gets around that's for sure and I've heard that Travis Konecny does as well. If I'm being honest there's maybe been a girl or two that's compared us."

 "Really?"

 "That doesn't mean you have to be one of them, though if you are…you better tell them I'm better."

 "Don't worry Ty, I'll sing your praises. I promise." Obviously, you wouldn't be doing that but it didn't hurt to stroke his ego a bit. "Anyone, to avoid?"

 "Marchy!"

 "Dude, he was like one of your best friends. Why would you say that?"

 "Because I know him. Stay away he's trouble." The fact that you could almost see the look on his face as he was telling you was comical.

 "Fine."

 "Oh and stay away from Carter Hart." The name sounded familiar.

 "The goalie from Philly? Why?"

 "Because you'll corrupt him." You burst out laughing and Ty joined you. "He's too innocent for you."

 "Dually noted, as I do not want to be known as the corruptor of innocents." You searched your mind thinking of anything else you could ask since you had him on the phone. "What about Crosby?"

 "Sid?" and he just couldn't stop laughing; you could even hear him try to catch his breath.

 "Why is that so funny? The man is hot Tyler, whether you want to admit it or not."

 He got serious as he asked, "Who's hotter him or me?"

 Thank god you weren't on FaceTime, so you could answer him without your features giving you away. "You are Ty, of course."

 "I thought so, but like the guy is hockey twenty-four seven. There's no way he's going to be thinking about getting laid."

 "That's disappointing."

 "He's about the only one that I'd give you permission to fuck, only because I know it would be impossible for you to accomplish, even given all your talents." You could hear the mischievous tone in his voice.

 "Hmmm, are you willing to bet on that?"

 "What? Like bet, you'll fuck Crosby in the bubble?"

 "Yeah." Did it really sound like such an unattainable accomplishment?

 "What's the wager?"

 "Winner flies out when this whole COVID shit is done and is the other's sex slave for twenty-four hours."

 "Oh, you are on, baby. I can already see you handcuffed to my bed in some skimpy lingerie." He cackled at the thought and it fueled your resolve to win this bet.

 "Don't be so sure about that."

 "And how am I to know that you actually slept with him?"

 Well, this would be tricky. "Well, it's not like I'm videoing it."

 "No, but that gives me ideas for when I win." Maybe you should be rethinking this gamble.

 "What do you want his underwear?"

 "Nah, you could get that in the laundry. But I'm sure you could sneak a pic of him sleeping." God that sounded creepy but if it meant you had Ty as your slave for a day, it'd be worth it and you'd never show it to anyone else but him and even then you weren't going to send it to him, though he didn't need to know that now.

 "Ok, it's a bet then."

 "Too bad we can't kiss on it."

 "Oh, you'll be doing more than kissing when I win, Seguin." Mentally you started packing sexy outfits to take into the bubble with you while thinking of all the things you'd have Tyler do the next time you saw him. "On that note, I better get my ass to work and make this hotel ready for these guys."

 "Fine, I'll let you go as long as you promise to FaceTime me at some point during this bubble thing."

 "I'm sure I'll have a night open for you at some point." You teased.

 "Woman, you better."

 "No worries Ty, you're still my main man; when you're in town."

 "That's right baby, good luck."

 "Thanks for all the info, Ty. We'll catch up soon and good luck in the playoffs."

 You were just about to hang up when you heard him yell. "Don't forget my titty picture."

 All you could do was shake your head and click end call, though you being a woman of your word, you snapped a quick pic and sent it off to him; to which he responded with a drool face emoji.

 The next couple of weeks were a literal whirlwind as you moved into the hotel's presidential suite and got things ready. Beds were moved out so that some rooms that had two queens now had one king in them. The hotel was disinfected from top to bottom. If felt like you were wearing a hazmat suit all the time during this process. A week before the players arrived the NHL staff did, making sure everything was in order and making sure you had things set up for daily COVID testing. Of course, you had everything well in hand and organized per their instructions, though with a few tweaks that made the process more efficient. Overall, they seemed impressed with everything that you had done.

 All that preparation lead up to the big day, July 26th, when the teams moved in. The league had them spread out so that no two teams were checking in at that same time. Tampa Bay was the first in as they traveled the furthest. "You look nervous. Why are you nervous?" Carly's voice came up from behind you as you saw the bus pulling in through the gates.

 "There's a lot riding on this Car, and if anything goes wrong; you know it's going to be my head that rolls."

 "You're going to do great; this whole thing is going to be smooth like a bubble." She started to giggle. "See what I did there…bubble." You rolled your eyes at your friend but did let out a little snort of laughter at her pun. "Well, here they come."

 You straightened your jacket and smoothed down your skirt, before throwing your mask up to go meet your first arrivals. "Gentlemen, welcome to Hotel X." You tried to speak a little louder than normal hoping the mask didn't muffle your words. "We're excited to have you all here. I'm (Y/N) manager here during your stay, anything you need, feel free to call me any time of day." More of the guys filtered in while you spoke to Coach Cooper and a few of the players.

 "Anytime huh?" you heard someone mumble in the background and a couple of the guys snickered. It was hard not to roll your eyes as you knew they were focusing on them with your face partially covered. Someone else said, "She can manage me anytime." That was until someone cleared their throat, effectively silencing them.

 "Now if you'll follow me, let's get you all checked in." Tables lined with a welcome packet and lanyard with their ID on it, were off to the side and you were able to shuffle them through with pretty good speed, then sent them off to their rooms before they had to head to testing. Your information was inside every packet, in case you were needed at any point during their stay. It seemed like you no sooner got them in and the area disinfected then the next team, the Capitals, were pulling in, and so the day went on until all five teams were safely ensconced in the hotel. Thankfully you made it through that process without any problems, even though the Bruins flight was late and the Flyers were pulling in right as you got the last players through.

 It wasn't until dinner, that you encountered your first dilemma, getting a text message from Alexis, who was coordinating the meals. It was a simple message, Get to conference room 3. NOW! As fast as your heels could take you, you headed down to where the Capitals were supposed to be having dinner if you remembered the schedule correctly. You never expected to see what you did though when you entered.

[twistedlymad]

Hello there, I love blogs and your writing. If you have the time, can you please write about the MC (fem reader) where she accidentally summons Stitch himself, befriends him, Stitch took an instant liking to her, with the TW guys becoming jealous to the new familiar and Stitch causing all sorts of mischief and pranks towards them. Thank you, keep up the good work and stay safe

Ohmaigawd. When I first read your request, I was honestly shocked! OwO

I literally could not have made the connection between Twisted Wonderland and Stitch at all! When I started writing, I did so many research! Forgive me, but, I have not seen any episode nor movie related to Stitch during my entire childhood, hence the research ahaha

One note though, I cannot make you summon Stitch as he already is a being on his own. However, I can make him appear in Twisted Wonderland :’)

Anyway, I hope this story lives up to your expectations! Thank you for requesting and have a lovely day! 

What if Stitch appeared in Twisted Wonderland? (Ft. Grim, Ace, Deuce, Sebek, Jack, Epel and Crowley) (Twisted Wonderland crossover w/Lilo and Stitch)

It was a quiet night at Night Raven College, no unnecessary arguments, no drama involving dorm leaders nor their members and most importantly, no fights occurring.

Or so you thought.

After having dinner, you and Grim went back to your Ramshackle Dorm after saying your goodnights to your friends.

“Fgnaaaaa! That deluxe-katsudon was the best dinner I’ve ever had!” Grim said as you put him on top of your head. It was his go-to spot for relaxing.

“You always say that to anything you eat.” You said, laughing. “You should cut down on all the extensive eating, you don’t want to have a certain teacher order you to run laps more than usual now do you?” You continued, a slight smirk on your face as you felt slight shivering on top of your head.

“Ahaha, you know what? Maybe I’ll skip lunch tomorrow.” The creature said to you and you shook your head.

“I told you to pay attention to your diet, not skip out on meals. It’s unhealthy.” You said as you opened the door to your humble Ramshackle Dorm, Grim jumping from your head and went inside. Before you went in yourself, you took a look outside and saw that the sky was clear and the moon shone upon you with no distractions. You felt a slight breeze blow through your hair and decided that it was a perfect weather to take a walk.

“Grim, I’m going to take a walk! You can go to sleep without me!” You yelled into the dorm before closing the door behind you and went on your walk.

You weren’t far from the dorm, in fact, you were taking your walk on the small field behind the building, enjoying the peace and quiet for once. As you looked up to the sky again, you noticed the stars that littered the sky. You took out your phone and took a picture of the night sky. However, a certain star caught your eye.

It was rather large to be a star? You thought it must be because the star was relatively close. You almost shrugged it off, keyword: almost. You would’ve went on your merry way if it wasn’t for a certain fact about the star.

It was getting bigger, it looked as if it was right above you. Once your mind had taken this fact into realization, your legs got the message and began to move out of the way. You ran to a few trees and hid behind one of them. A crash was heard soon after, it was rather loud, Grim would have probably heard it if it wasn’t for the fact that he was asleep. You peeked your head out from behind the tree to see what had happened, but all you could see was smoke.

Your mind had told you to get back into the dorm and call Crowley but your curiosity got the better of you. You began to walk towards the smoke to see what had crashed. You craned your neck, trying to get a better view when all of a sudden a part of the crash had flung open. You were taken aback and took a few steps back, fearing for whatever would emerge from the thing.

However, the only thing that emerged is a blue koala? Was it even a koala? You weren’t sure. Your whole body froze as it looked at you.

But what scared you the most was the fact he had 4 arms.

AND 4 GUNS?!

The creature then pointed the guns at you and your arms immediately flailed up to shield your face.

“D-Don’t shoot! I wasn’t going to hurt you!” You yelled, hoping that it would just go away. The creature just looked at you, guns still pointed at you. However, you noticed that it was slightly trembling, so you slowly lowered your arms.

“Umm… Hi?” You waved to it, you weren’t sure if it even understood you. But it replied.

“Hi?” Your eyes widen and slowly crouched down to its level. The creature still had its guns pointed at you. You just held up both your hands as if to show you were harmless.

“C-Can you understand me?” You asked and the creature nodded, but then shook its head.

“Ah… I’ll take that you do understand but you aren’t quite sure on how to speak it.” The creature nodded furiously.

“Interesting… Do… Do you have a name?” You asked and slowly approached the creature. The creature still stood his ground.

“S-Stitch. My name is Stitch.” It said and slowly lowered its weapons, slowly realizing that you meant no harm.

“That’s very good, where are you from?” You kept the conversation going. You were trying to let it relax and know that it has no need to be defensive. You sat down and looked at it.

“Ha… Hawaii.” You nodded with a smile.

“I assume you’re a boy?” He nodded.

“Ah… I see… I should introduce myself too.” You said to him. “My name is (Y/N) (L/N). Nice to meet you.” The koala-like alien blinked at you before nodding.

“(Y/N)?” He asked you.

“Yes, (Y/N), that’s my name.” You smiled to the creature, it also gave you a smile back. Stitch and you looked at the crashed craft and could already tell that it was unusable. Sighing, you returned your attention back to the creature, you used your hand to cup his head to look at you.

“Say, Stitch, how about you stay for the night? We could go find help first thing in the morning.” You offered and you saw his eyes light up. Stitch nodded and you smiled.

“Alright, come, let’s get a good night’s rest.” With that, you and Stitch walked back to your Ramshackle Dorm. You let Stitch sleep on the bed while you slept on the sofa. Grim was already asleep on the bed so he didn’t hear the crash happening. You let Stitch shimmy himself into the bed and tucked the two creatures in, after doing so, only then you went to sleep on the couch.

You were awoken the next morning by a scream.

“FGNAAAAAAAAA!”

Your eyes jolted awake and you saw Grim running towards you and away from an already awoken Stitch.

“(Y/N)! THERE’S A MONSTER IN OUR BED!!!” Grim yelled, jumping into your arms. Your eyes travelled to Stitch only to see him looking kind of sad. You just let out a small smile.

“Grim, he’s not a monster, his name is Stitch and he crash landed on our yard yesterday. I’m going to take him to see Crowley in a short moment.” You said, petting Grim to soothe him.

“Does that make him an alien?” Grim asked you and you shrugged.

“I guess.” You said, letting Grim go and walking over to Stitch, who was now curled up into a ball. You then bend down to his level.

“Good morning Stitch, I’m sorry you got scared a moment ago, but this is Grim! He won’t hurt you, he was just surprised to see you.” You said and nudged Grim over.

“I am the Great Grim, the most powerful mage in Twisted Wonderland!” You rolled your eyes at his introduction.

“Grim? (Y/N)?” Stitch asked and you nodded.

“Yep, that’s us. Now, let me just go prepare for the day and we can go find help for you.” You smiled at Stitch and left Grim and Stitch in your room. You got dressed and had Grim resting on your head while you hugged Stitch in your arms. As you did, Stitch somehow morphed his extra 2 arms back into his body, this made you jump a little.

“So, you can morph those arms in and out?” You asked the blue creature and he nodded. “Wow, that’s very surprising. Well, time to go.”

With that, the 3 of you set off to find the bad fashion sensed and lazy headmaster. When you arrived at the headmaster’s office, Stitch had hidden himself behind your legs. You giggled and told him not to worry and went in the office together with Stitch and Grim.

Truth be told, the headmaster had let out a girlish scream when you brought Stitch into his view. The 3 of you were taken aback but the headmaster had quickly calmed down and asked you what had happened. After explaining the situation to Crowley, he decided that he will have students from Ignihyde Dorm to check out the crash and see if they can help, meanwhile, you get to have Stitch stay as your pet since you were a beast tamer after all. But in return, you must keep an eye on him 100% of the time and not allow any nonsense to happen at all.

Pfft, I think most nonsense happened because of you Crowley.

“Well, looks like we’re stuck together for now Stitch!” You said to the blue koala. “Now, you two better behave well in class later on.” You said and the three of you went to class.

After this time with Stitch, you would be lying if you said you weren’t attached to the him. Grim and him actually chatted here and there and became fast friends really quick.

Whispers and gossiping were heard once you’ve stepped foot into your classroom. You felt slightly uncomfortable, Stitch saw this and bared his fangs at the students who were gossiping about you and Stitch. Grim shot a few nasty looks here and there but nothing much.

“(Y/N), I don’t mean to be rude but, what is that?” Deuce asked you once you sat down at your usual spot, between him and Ace.

“This little cutie, is Stitch!” You said happily to the two of them.

“He’s the most adorable little creature I’ve ever seen!” You added, hugging Stitch closer to you. In return, the little blue koala-like creature snuggled close to you too.

Little did you know, a few sounds ‘tchs’ were heard from the two Heartslabyul boys beside you. However, Stitch heard them. Oh, this little creature knew what was going on when he looked up to see two jealous slightly annoyed faces looking down at him. And with that, he had concocted a plan to see how far he could annoy them.

They boy’s eyes widen as they saw Stitch had a semi-evil smile on his face as you giggled and kissed his nose. The boys were shocked! A few veins of theirs popping too! Low grumbles and mumbles were heard from the boys but you payed no attention to them as Professor Trein had walked in and began teaching.

As the bell rung, signaling that it was time for lunch. You stretched your body, arching your back after having it hunched over a table for some time. You then looked down to see a sleeping Grim and a semi-asleep Stitch. You let out a soft giggle and woke the both of them up.

“Grim, Stitch, come on, let’s go get some lunch.” And the two creatures woke up.

“Fgnaaaa! It’s eating time already? Come on, let’s go!” Grim said excitedly.

“Jeez, Grim is sure as hyper as ever.” Deuce commented.

“He better not steal my sandwich again…” Ace added and you let out a small laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.” You said, winking to the two boys. They blushed slightly as you walked with the two creatures to the cafeteria. The boys followed behind but was met with Stitch sticking out his tongue at them behind your back.

Cue more veins popping and potentially a bad boy Deuce breaking out.

Nevertheless, the two Heartslabyul boys had scowls on their faces and kept mumbling to one another. Somethings about ‘that little alien thinks he’s so high and mighty’ and ‘how dare he have more treatment from (Y/N) than us’ were thrown here and there from them.

When you arrived at the cafeteria, Grim jumped from your head and ran in a beeline towards the line for buying food. Ace and Deuce accompanied him as you and Stitch went to find your other friends. You saw them sitting at a table when Epel had waved you over. You smiled, waved back and head towards their table.

Jack, Epel and Sebek sat and chatted when you came over, and all their eyes landed on Stitch. You noticed that and began to explain what happened last night. Once you finished, Ace, Deuce and Grim were back with their food.  

“So, he’s an alien?” Jack asked and you nodded.

“Yes, and he is the most adorable creature ever! How can you not love him?!” You let out a small squeal and once again hugging Stitch closer to you.

Multiple and I mean MULTIPLE ‘tchs’ were heard. You were too busy giving Stitch attention that you didn’t hear a single thing.

Remember when I said Stitch knew about this jealousy the boys had for him?  

With a small smirk on his face, he kissed your cheek.

Innocently.

Jaws were dropped to the ground, eyes were wide open like saucers, and the most terrible thing was,

Sandwiches and food were squeezed until they were either like a thin piece of paper or entirely inedible.

FOOD WAS WASTED. HOW COULD THEY?! QwQ

You were shocked to have Stitch kiss your cheek. You looked back at the blue koala-like creature only to see him giving you the most adorable puppy eyes ever!

“Awwww! I love you too!” You said and hugged Stitch tightly and him hugging you back, tightly as ever.

“You see what we had to deal with?!” Ace whisper-yelled to everyone and they all nodded. Well, everyone except Grim. The little furball was just happy he got his sandwich and sat there, eating happily.

You guys were chatting and eating, with the occasional glaring between Stitch and the boys of course, when Crowley came up to your table, informing you that the dorm members of Ignihyde managed to fix Stitch’s aircraft and even upgraded it.

Truth be told, you felt happy and sad at the same time. Sure, it might mean Stitch gets to go home, but it also meant that you’ll have to say goodbye to him. It might have been only a day, but you’ve grown attached to the creature and now it’s time to say goodbye.

You had stick on a smile on your face and hid your true feelings inside.

“That’s great! Well, Stitch, let’s go and see your new aircraft!” You said to Stitch and all of you went back to Ramshackle Dorm to send Stitch off.

When you arrived, the aircraft in front of you didn’t look too much different when you first saw it, but it did have a few tweaks here and there. You let Stitch inspect his new ride, checking for anything that might go wrong again before taking off.

You were painfully quiet, which didn’t go unnoticed by the boys and Grim.

When Stitch had finished inspecting, he gave you a big smile and nodded furiously, telling you that everything was okay and that he will be going shortly. You gave him a smile back.

“Well, looks like you’re going home.” You said to him and gave him a hug. He hugged you back tightly and did something very surprising.

“Ohana.” Said the blue creature. You were puzzled.

“What?” You asked Stitch as you pulled away from the hug.

“Ohana means family. (Y/N), you took me in even when you knew I wasn’t normal. You, Grim and everyone were friendly to me and didn’t try to hurt me in any way. You even helped me in this unfamiliar world and didn’t push me away. That’s why, you’re all family to me.”

“You’re my ohana.”

Tears streamed down your face when Stitch said those words. A genuine smile had formed on your face and Grim was right beside you, bawling his eyes out as well.

“Thanks Stitch, you’re ohana too.” You said as you and Grim hugged Stitch together.

The boys at the back were holding in their tears. How could they think that this sweet little creature tried to take you away from them? They felt like as if a gun struck their hearts with guilt for wanting to hurt Stitch even though he only wants someone to guide him through this unfamiliar world.

You then pulled away from the hug and let Stitch get into is aircraft. Once the engine is up, you stood back and waved goodbye to him. He smiled and waved goodbye to you too before ascending into the sky, going back to his home.

The boys came up and comforted you as you wiped your tears away.

“Listen, (Y/N), we know Stitch meant a lot to you…” Deuce started but you just shook your head.

“Don’t worry, even though my relationship with Stitch was strong, I still have a lot of ohana here.” You said and smiled to them, in return they smiled to you as well.

“Yanno, I don’t mean to ruin the mood, but, VARGAS’ CLASS STARTS IN 4 MINUTES.” Grim said to everyone and you all laughed.

“Well, we better hurry if we don’t want to get punished. I remember the last time it was Sebek and Ace who got punished and their punishments were to run 200 laps and do 300 push-ups.” You giggled at the memory and the boy’s faces paled.

“What’re we waiting for? LET’S GO!” Ace yelled.

And so the 7 of you ran as fast as you could to get to class in time.

[artfulanecdotist]

The Girls I've Loved (part 2)

This is a series of writing I’m doing about formative queer experiences I had as a young lesbian and their relations to my childhood friendships. I’ve noticed that young queer people often have very intense childhood friendships, and I wanted to explore that within myself and my experiences. This isn’t only an exploration of my early crushes, but also how I loved as a young lesbian, platonic, romantic, and everything in between.

I’m not sure how many parts of this there will be, but all of them will be under the tag ‘the girls i’ve loved’ on my blog.

CW: I talk about coming out to someone? It goes well, but I want to be safe and add content warnings even when I'm not sure.

Feel free to reblog with your own stories and queer experiences if you can relate, I want to start a conversation!

Madeline

Madeline and I liked to say we were destined to meet. We were born on the same day at the same hospital, but we didn’t know that until we met in preschool four years later. Little girls love pretending they’re sisters, and Madeline and I could believably (at least to us) say we were twins. We called ourselves ‘birth sisters.’

I don’t remember a lot of my childhood friendship with Madeline either, but the things I do remember are warped by fond reminiscing and time. We’re still friends to this day, and Madeline loves telling the story of our first sleepover. We made puppy chow for our living room camping trip and fell asleep in the big bowl. It was getting late, so mom let me stay over. We didn’t even know we’d had our first sleepover til morning, but we were ecstatic to find out. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t my actual first sleepover, but I never tell Madeline that.

We’ve had lots of sleepovers since, and we make sure to see each other at least once a year. We like to do it in autumn, so we can go apple picking together.

As kids we loved playing Barbies. Every time was a different adventure, each more dramatic than the last. They ranged from telenovela dramas to dolls dealing with the aftermath of natural disasters. We would put the dolls under her pink comforter and shake it around, pretending it was an earthquake. Then, as most little girls do, we would deal with our anxieties through play. Our dolls would suffer so we didn’t have to.

I only actually remember one time we played, and nothing really significant happened. I only remember thinking that we were too old to be playing with toys. I remember thinking that a lot as a kid, and never once was I actually too old.

I have another memory of a conversation with her that only resurfaced after I came out to my family. We were sitting at the cold granite island in her basement, swinging our tiny feet and gossiping about kids in our preschool class. There was this boy named Johnny who she had a crush on, and she was prattling on and on about him. She told me she liked him so much that she even wanted to kiss him.

“Ew!” I responded, genuinely baffled. “Why would you want to do that?”

I came out to Madeline a few years ago. It was soft, and quiet, and in the room that used to be her playroom but had been remodeled into what her mom affectionately called her ‘girl cave.’ I hugged a fluffy pillow as I told her, and she smiled slightly and told me that she’d always kind of known. She’d known me for years at that point. Of course she already knew. Our conversation continued on as if nothing had changed, because I guess nothing had. Now when we have sleepovers, she talks about boys and I talk about girls.

Over the years, Madeline and I grew up together. After preschool, we went to different schools, and only saw each other once a year. But we grew up together.

Each time we saw each other, we were different people. Yet somehow, the people we had become were still similar. We went through the same phases, liked the same tv shows and books. Even our major life changes were similar. We would lay lazily on the blow up sea creatures in her pool, talking about our lives and marveling over the similarities. So many of my memories with her are warm like the summer sun and sweet like the birthday cake we’d share. When I think about her, I hear the jingle of a swing set swing or the splash of her dog jumping into the pool, feel the speckles of water on my face.

I haven’t seen her in a while, but once while doing yoga and drinking sparkling grape juice on her basement floor, we both agreed we could see ourselves doing the exact same thing long after we’ve both succumbed to the societal pressures of domestic life. Just replace the grape juice with champagne and the soft pop music with the laughter of children.

I loved Madeline softly and sweetly, and we loved each other as we became people. We formed our personalities together, and I can credit so much of who I am to her.

Of course I still love her. The love has changed, and you could say it has weakened, but I don’t think love can truly be measured. Each time we see each other, the connection comes back. Even if I haven’t thought of her in years, we connect like it’s the first time. My love for Madeline is pink and feminine, and in a way, that love is a faux longing for the heterosexual dream. She’s one of my only straight friends. She has a girl cave with pillows in millennial pink and seasonal scented candles. She has fights with her friends over boys and a longstanding crush on the boy who lives next door. She wants two kids, a boy and a girl, and she wants to marry someone with a twin gene in the family so her kids can be twins. I don’t want those things, but when I’m with her, I sometimes imagine what it would be like if I did. And when I am with her I understand the platonic dedication that straight women have for each other. I’ve never had romantic feelings for her, and she’s never had them for me, but I am so sure she is meant to be in my life forever. She’s my forever maid of honor, even if she won’t be the actual maid of honor at my wedding. My love for Madeline is a hidden, guilty wish wrapped in a lacy pink bow, and I’m okay with that. Because just once a year, I can allow myself to feel that longing for a life I don’t want.

[fe-semi-decent-scenarios]

How they act around their crush: GD edition

[This one’s for @glass-grapes​. I saw your submission and am completely psyched that you love my blog! I know that I’ve only recently had it kick-off with a few posts, but I have been wanting to start one of these since January. Hope this is to your liking! (p.s I didn’t know if I should do pre or post time skip, so I did a little dabbling into both]

Claude:

We all know Claude here is both a go-getter and a tease 

If he finds you interesting then there’s no reason for him to hide it. A  battle of wits never hurt anyone, and boy do you two fight well

He is s a s s y. If you’re chatting with some other students he might stick his nose into the conversation to toy with you. It’s all in good fun, right? Just a little mini-game on his way to achieving bigger things  

That’s what he tells himself 

Some days he finds you a bit too alluring, and can’t help being self conscious of the other people around

Fiddles with his braid when you throw him for a loop

Will pay extra special attention to you in battle, and makes excuses to the prof. for why you should be near him. He really is a snake 

Post-Timeskip he hides his bias even more. Not enough to fool his close comrades, but enough to avoid you receiving any extra attention from the enemy  

Sometimes slips items in your room to distract from the stress. Tea, a new blanket, etc.

During the five year gap he keeps track of your whereabouts. After Garreg Mache fell he decided that his dream would take priority as planned, but also believed that one day you would be at his side 

Wasn’t surprised at all to see you at the reunion, but that familiar urge to tug his hair returned too  

Judith and Nader have already heard about you prior to your meeting. Much to his dismay they view his buried feelings as open range comedy

Lorenz: 

We all know how Lorenz acts when he finds someone of interest. The guy is a huge flirt which causes the professor wayyy too much stress 

He’s not as in-tune with his sense of romance as you would think. In the early stages he’ll treat you the same as all the other ladies: a potential partner for house Gloucester.

Date offerings, frilly words, gifts, acts of kindness. Ah tis but the duty of a noble, yes? 

No. 

One day he lets that stubborn side of his personality slip out, and you come back at him with just as much fire. He becomes so angered after it, but somehow hearing the words from you hurt more than if someone else were to say them

That’s when he knows that he’s in deep, and from then on he treats you more gently. He’ll watch his tongue around other women, and sets his sights on only you. His mannerisms are the same as before, but now he tries to learn more about you as a person vs. just the cold hard statistics

He’s a blusher. He has a naturally light pigmentation so it shows. 

After the time-skip he’ll watch you like a hawke. Do you like his new hair cut? Surly it’s an improvement from before sorry bro it’s not

Sets his dignity aside to request that you be given a hexlock shield during battle, or placed near him. Claude won’t let him live it down

Ignatz: 

He m i g h t avoid you, but please don’t take it the wrong way. That’s just how he is, you know?

Young Ignatz isn’t that confident in himself. You’re...well ‘you’. And he’s...well, ‘him’

Oddly enough he confides in HIlda of all people. It originally began with wanting to see if she was still on stable duty with him, but ended up with him working and her talking

When you’re nearby he chooses not to speak unless spoken to. If you didn’t know his tells he’d come off cold, but one look at his hands wringing together just proves he was nervous 

Byleth puts you two on cooking duty together: que panic. He legit grovels at their feet to pick someone else. They don’t, and that evening he sketches a wonderful picture of you sifting through different seasonings 

On your birthday he struggles to give you the gift he prepared. It ends up with Lionie giving you it while he watches from afar. 

When you’re older he is much more verbal with his opinions 

More often than not he lets those honey-coated words slip out, which usually end up with him excusing himself quickly 

Invites you to join him during downtime at least once a week. Every day could be his last, and goddess forbid yours. He wants to spend time with you even if he isn’t the most graceful companion never mind that he’s a smooth-talking mofo

Raphael: 

If there’s one thing Raphael is good at, it’s showing that he cares 

The boy is a giant muscular teddybear. He will carry your things, he will spar with you, he will eat anything you cook without complaint, and he will hug you; hard. 

Unlike everyone else he’s pretty open with his feelings. Life is short, you know? 

If you make him particularly bashful he’ll laugh loudly. More so to cover up his own embarrassment than because he finds the situation actually humorous

Adopts this habit of constantly asking if you need anything. The guy loves to dote on people, and lookie here you’re the perfect target 

Remembers all important dates like a pro. On your birthday he drops a gift right on your desk first thing in the morning 

Goddess forbid anyone gives you trouble. Without the smile on his face he looks the murder type, and the guy uses it to his advantage. He will happily escort you anywhere you need to go 

Once his sister is settled he might honestly stick with you during that five year gap. He’s made his feelings painfully obvious, and you haven’t chased him off. Why not stick around? 

Hilda: 

Yo she’s clingy 

She knows you have to be a catch and a half to steal her heart, so who knows who else that you’ve smooth talked 

Just like everyone else she’ll still get you to do her bidding...but, maybe a smidge less 

She feels guilty, but won’t show it 

Hilda will do all in her power to not let the news reach her family. The last thing she needs is Holst sending her more letters, or worse: showing up at the monastery

Y’all she will don her best perfume for you. She will push all her work onto Cyril and drag you to have lunch with her. This is normal Hilda behavior so she has no reason to be shy 

Will flirt openly and proudly. If you recuperate she’ll go gossip to Marianne about how you’re ‘totally smitten’ with her

Post-skip she’s not much different. Most of her time is spent doing what she can for the cause, but when you see each other she’s more bold. 

Like always she doesn’t like to have expectations pushed onto her. She does have one for herself though, and it’s to stay by your side. 

Marianne: 

During the academy years she tends to admire from afar 

Her favorite memories are of when the professor signed you both up for choir practice. She loves your voice, and it was a time where there wasn’t any pressure for conversation 

As time passes she’ll become less adverse to talking. Quiet greetings will be whispered when you cross paths, and occasionally you two have lunch together 

Marianne is not as reserved as people assume her to be. She’s just had a rough time, and if you take things slow with her then she’ll gradually have a stronger presence in your life. She hopes that this comes true for you two 

Eye contact hasn’t always been her forte. She does try to maintain it with you though 

Her feelings remain at a stalemate through most of the academy days. Only when she bypass’ some more personal-issues does she let her emotions go free

About halfway through the war period she changes. Her stance is more vertical, and she becomes the one to take initiative in your relationship 

She’ll still blush upon any physical contact, and in some cases she’ll lose her breath when you talk. Don’t take the momentary silence as a bad thing, she’s okay. 

Occasionally she’ll be restless and unable to sleep, worrying about the future she now has in her grasp. You might find her scouring for a cup of chamomile late in the night 

Lysithea: 

She’ll deny herself immediately. For Lysithea the future is an anomaly. One of which that no amount of studying or research can uncover.

It’s painfully obvious that there’s a spark between you two. Anyone can see it, and Hilda has pestered her many times regarding confessing 

If the situation was a bit different, she would. Lysithea is no push over, but she also doesn’t want to invest time into something that will bear no fruition 

She keeps her cool around you for the most part...or at least until you’re out of hearing distance 

Then she completely loses composure. Did someone say clammy hands? Because hers get slicker than lorenz’s hair gel 

Leads to stress eating, not gonna lie. There are many late night trips to the mess hall, and many angry cooks over the missing sweets  

Times are different post-timeskip though. She’s a bit more reluctant to let these feelings go 

Occasionally there’s some open flirting on her part. If you recuperate then it becomes more frequent and less forced. The sassy banter between you two becomes the deer’s free entertainment

Leonie: 

She’s commonly been viewed as ‘one of the guys,’ for her personality. So she’s very insecure about getting friend zoned 

It’s not like she was actively searching for romance. It just happened, you know? One day something just struck a chord 

She never took the time to picture sharing a life with someone. Most of her life has been spent worrying about her village, or working hard to attain some kind of recognition from the Captian 

For a split second she considers going to Byleth for some advice. Now isn’t the time for school-girl crushes. Now is the time to be forging a path to the future

Decides to completely ignore the ache she feels when you’re nearby. Just...lets it go. 

She’ll put hella distance between you two. The only time she’ll initiate contact is during sparring 

After the timeskip she stays this way too. Well, until HIlda calls her out on her bullsh*t (if you haven’t noticed from all these. Hilda is a perceptive little cookie)

Just like anyone she’ll go through the moral dilemma of deciding to confess or not. She instead chooses to just let her feelings do as they please, and if something happens then it happens 

[masterthespianduchovny]

Honestly, I don't understand what some GA supporters, Gillovny haters and David haters, which I believe are mixed groups, against David and a friendship, albeit at a distance and occasionally with Gillian. At SM, the haters draw him as if he were the same arrogant actor who was portrayed in the 90s, who didn't have a friendly off-screen relationship with Gillian (hello, they are both very introverted and worked 17 hours together. How much could they handle this work overload? (to be continued..)

 Are these followers afraid that GA is getting involved with a "rapist/misogynist", just because his have a relationship with a 27-years-old girl? Why did David write about incest is his last book? Why did he say that he wouldn't like to with Gillian on anything but The X Files? Why was he openly a sex addict? And this arguments being based entirely on facts and gossip from 15/20 /25 years ago?

People draw David as if he were a maniac who can attack Gillian at any time, and that she doesn't know his true nature, so he has a relationship. It's amazing how people make assumptions based on the past things and don't even bother to keep up with what they're doing today. And even worse: they think they can govern your personal lives. I saw it from Gillovnys in the past, and now i see it in these groups.

I read these anons earlier and spent some time thinking about your remarks and the larger implications of certain accusations and DD/GA’s relationship. This response way longer than I intended, but like I said, I spend some time thinking about your comments. And when I say it’s long, I mean it’s long.

Anti’s alleged issues with DD is a combination of things: misogyny, sexism, homophobia, pedophilia, and being friends with an alleged sex trafficker.

David has said some homophobic, misogynistic, and sexist remarks. It’s one of those things that, although a handful of people knew better, his views were “normal” back then. This isn’t to excuse David, but rather, provide context. Because there’s problematic shit and beliefs from 10 and even 5 years ago. The question I ask myself is: has David unpacked these beliefs? Is he learning and growing?

The fact that they have to dig into shit from the 90s to find shit on him says A LOT. Maybe he’s learned to keep those views to himself OR maybe he realized that some of his beliefs were fucked up and left them in the past. I’m not saying that no one can’t be upset about what he said or even dislike him now because of it. However, I don’t think people who genuinely dislike him are sending hate anons to people because they like him.

I really don’t like talking about the pedophilia and him “knowing” he’s friends with a sex trafficker accusations because, even when accusations are proven to be false, someone will believe there's truth to them. It taints a person and that's generally speaking. The reason I’m addressing them now and with you is because I want to be transparent about what’s going on with Antis and my issues with them. I don’t want to be accused of bias or protecting DD because I’m “hiding” the truth.

This man in Hollywood accused David of being sexually inappropriate with a minor who later became his wife. Apparently, this happened in David’s trailer during the original run of the X-Files and was well known on set. This revelation occurred during the Me Too era, like when accusations were hot and took just about everyone accused of impropriety down. For reference, Harvey Weinstein, a powerful producer with more money and influence, was taken down. Louis CK, well respected before his victims came out. Pre Me Too: Bill Cosby. Aziz Ansari. Hell, even some of the faces of the movement were taken down.

So, this Hollywood dude claimed on twitter that David was touching on a minor while at work and EVERYONE on set knew, but somehow this story never caught on. Virtually no media outlets picked this up. And this accusation is worse than the Aziz accusation and he was torn to shreds as his career took a hit. But David can be accused of this horrendous thing and no one reacts to it??? Apparently, he must have better lawyers than Harvey, Louis, etc because the rumors never even took flight. AND, I believe the thread is still up too. Not even crazed right wingers or pizza gate fanatics were interested in this story. However, since David is involved with a significantly younger woman this means that that rumor is true. 

The thing is: there’s implications to this accusation that the antis didn’t think of and they got mad at me and others about it.

They said that Gillian hated David, didn't talk to him, and ignored him as much as she could because she knew about all of this. So, I asked, “If she knew David was a predator, why did she keep working with him? If you argue it was due to contract reasons, why did she work with him on IWTB and Seasons 10 and 11? Why didn’t she report him?”

Me and others were accused of holding women accountable for mens’ actions. But that still doesn’t answer the question, right? If Gillian hated David because he’s a predator, why did she still work with him? Her “hate” was supposed to be “proof” that he was morally corrupt. Since Gillian “hated” David, we’re supposed to hate David.

Another layer: David’s friends with a guy who allegedly is a sex trafficker, which to Antis mean that David knows and is okay with this. They’re friends, how could he not know???

This is important to note because they switch between Gillian knowing David is a “predator” and not knowing depending on the argument. So, when they swore up and down that she hated him, Gillian “knew.” Now that Gillian and David confirmed they are friends in some capacity, “just because she’s friends with him doesn’t mean she knows everything about him.”

Interesting, right?

They used examples of Harvey Weinstein and Ted Bundy to prove how someone can hide despicable acts after swearing up and down Gillian KNEW, which is why they weren’t friends. And, if you’re thinking...well what about David’s friend who allegedly is a sex trafficker, wouldn’t the same logic apply to him?

BINGO.

There are a million excuses and justifications when you apply their logic to Gillian, but they never give David the benefit of the doubt. They never critically examine any information they’re given if it paints David in a bad light. Then they put their heads in the sand if this info implicates Gillian. And the sad part is that I can go on a longer rant tearing their accusations apart.

There isn’t any consistency from Antis. I’d respect them if they’d dropped Gillian because she’s friends with the “predator” they hate. But no, their stance and justification changes so she's always in a good light.

You see how low they're willing to stoop to justify their hate. They aren’t content with disliking David, they need others to hate him too. They're too invested to admit they were wrong because then they’d have to face how foolish they looked hating David on the behalf of Gillian who doesn’t hate him at all. All that energy and hate for nothing.

Lastly, I genuinely do believe Antis are afraid that David and Gillian may be fucking or, at least, that casual fans will come to that conclusion. Think about it: who reacts like this to two people, who many thought hated each other, essentially announcing they are friends?

Who?

These are two adults with (an) adult kid(s). And they could literally become grandparents at any time. lol. These are two people who have known each other for damn near 30 years and Antis think they know David and Gillian better than they know each other.

But a simple photo got them rattled because they HAVE TO admit Gillian’s friends with David. She inadvertently put them in a corner and the only way out of it is to admit something they mocked others for believing. Their other options would fall into Gillovny thinking: they're fucking or dating.

And that’s what they’re really upset about.

They were left with options that fell into Gillovny thinking and had to choose the lesser of the evils. And they can’t say David and Gillian aren’t friends without looking delusional. Especially when they don’t have their handy dandy convenient excuses of “promo” for the x files or a charity. lol. Especially when they took a personal photo together and posted it online.

And I guess that’s the beauty of the picture: you’re only left with three options. Because, if you take friendship off the table, there is no other way to explain why David was there that doesn’t suggest them being intimately acquainted with each other.

I’ll say this: Antis don’t care about facts if the facts can’t be used as ammunition to shit on someone even if they have to distort it.

Now I know this is long and I’ve discussed things you didn’t intend, but I guess I needed this rant. LOL. Some Gillovnies and David fans may be upset that I discussed those topics, but most of the people on my blog either already heard about this OR have read me discuss it before.

Either way, Antis are hypocrites and shouldn’t be taken seriously.

[svprncva]

𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁

𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴: Alex 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚂: She/Her 𝙰𝙶𝙴: 26 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴𝚉𝙾𝙽𝙴: CDT (GMT-5) 𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙶𝙴𝚁𝚂: None

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁

𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴: Sirius Black 𝙰𝙶𝙴: 21 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚂: Pureblood ( begrudgingly ) 𝙳𝙴𝚂𝙸𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙵𝙰𝙲𝙴 𝙲𝙻𝙰𝙸𝙼: Samuel Larsen, Jordan Rodrigues, Sebastian de Souza 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚁 𝙿𝙰𝚃𝙷 & 𝙲𝚄𝚁𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝚃𝙸𝚃𝙻𝙴:           Sirius Black in a position of authority, can you believe it? He certainly couldn’t, not when the Cannons first approached him about accepting a coaching position. Sure, he had a brief stint as a beater on Gryffindor’s team, but a poor practice attendance record and a penchant for less-than-textbook sportsmanship on the pitch ensured that he didn’t last a season beyond his fourth year. He was by no means an authority on technique or strategy when the job was handed to him, though judging by the Cannons’s previous season, no one on the team seemed to have a grasp on such matters.            Vastly under-qualified, Sirius accepted the position as assistant coach and started the next week. After a single day on the pitch, he realized why they had come to him. They didn’t need another mastermind, they needed unity, and Sirius’s reputation for rallying the dead preceded him. If anyone could spark a flame from a dying ember, it’s Sirius Black. And if they need a morale booster to masquerade as a coach, he’s more than happy to wear orange.  𝚀𝚄𝙸𝙳𝙳𝙸𝚃𝙲𝙷 𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙸𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴: Chudley Cannons  𝚆𝙰𝚁 𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙸𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴: Order of the Phoenix  𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝚁𝙲:           There are a thousand ways to sugar coat it, but quite frankly, life isn’t easy for Sirius at the moment. He’s always been cursed to be trapped between who he was and who he aspires to be, but since graduating from Hogwarts, each year has come with apathetic standardization of the world. Gone are the days where black was black and white was white. Now gray surrounds him, dogs his every step and haunts his dreams.             See, when he was younger, his moral compass was perfectly aligned. No, he wasn’t a saint, but it was easy enough to look around and figure out what he should be doing, thinking, saying. Anything that angered his family and made his friends grin was bound to be a step in the right direction, another leap towards becoming the man he always felt he could be. Redundancy solidified certain behaviors, but after he stepped foot off the Hogwarts Express for the final time, he was forced to realize that a life can’t be dictated by the reactions of other people, try as he may. Graduation meant it was time to carve out a place for himself in the world -- this time without real-time feedback from professors, friends, enemies. Sirius had the rest of his life to establish, and the freedom of choice began to take its toll after a year or two of liberties.             Never did Sirius expect freedom to be his downfall, but as drunken nights gave way to midday sunrises, he could feel himself sinking into the guilt of the stagnant. He’d spent the entirety of his teenage years in the pursuit of becoming a good man, and he spent the first few years of his adult life believing he had somehow achieved that goal. But the empty whiskey bottles and crumpled bed sheets read otherwise, and someone was wise enough to tell him that not everyone that happened to join the Order was inherently good. It jarred him, that conversation. War beckons good men to conduct bad deeds -- and at the end, when the victor has been declared, who is to say that the guilt of those deeds won’t outweigh their intent?            Extrinsic guidance ripped away, Sirius was forced to begin the arduous process of making his own mistakes, learning the weight of regret, the sleeplessness of second thoughts. It motivated him initially, but a lack of experience brought about failure. He applied to be an Auror and was promptly rejected. He worked at the Leaky for a fortnight before throwing in the literal towel; the regulars came with more baggage than there was room. He even tried to work as an auto mechanic in Muggle London only to quit after being told on the daily to fabricate problems for income. The entire world was open to him, but he has yet to find a place within it.             So when the Cannons offered him a coaching position, no matter how utterly absurd, Sirius accepted. He’d been recruited, told that there was a chance he could bring value to a team. He would never let it show, but he’s desperate to feel that sense of belonging he felt five years ago in the Common Room without a care in the world except for how to sneak in his next pack of smokes. After giving up his family and feeling friendships weaken amongst the war effort, he needs someplace -- someone -- to call home. And little does he know just how vulnerable that need makes him to the influence of the Insidio phenomenon. He’s staunchly against the mission of the Death Eaters, but he’s in search of open arms and with a high enough dose, he just may find them on the wrong side of the war. 

𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆:

“'ELLO, HOWDY, HI - CAN I SPEAK TO YOU FOR A MOMENT? I JUST NEED A MOMENT OF YOUR TIME, HI, HELLO - HEY, I’M WITH THE QUIBBLER, YEAH! WOULD– GEEZ, WOULD YOU LIKE TO ANSWER A FEW QUESTIONS! IT’S FOR THE SPORTS COLUMN, ON PAGE 17, YOU CAN’T MISS IT!”

Sirius laughed as the overeager reporter stumbled up to him, seemingly tripping over invisible shoelaces. “The Quibbler, yeah? You’ve got about as good a reputation as my team,” he said. There was no need to elaborate on which team. His jumper was that awful shade of Cannon Orange, a brand unto itself. “Happy to give you a bit of content, though I fully expect to be front and center on the cover.” A quick smile, effortless if a bit tired. The Cannons had been grappling for pitch space recently, and that meant everyone’s schedule had to be... flexible, to say the least. He’d seen more sunrises than sunsets this week. 

The reported nodded and brushed off the lapels of his coat. For as much a mess as he appeared, Sirius should have expected the upcoming boom of another innocent-yet-abrasively-delivered question. Should have. Instead, his brows shot towards his hairline as a stranger shouted at him from point-black distance. “HOW COME YA ALWAYS HANGING AROUND HERE?! DO YA WORK HERE OR SOMETHIN’?”

“Something like that. The Cannons keep putting galleons in my vault at the very least,” he answered, consciously keeping his tone level. It’d always been easy for Sirius to become swept up in the tides of other people, especially those with louder personalities. If he weren’t careful (or exhausted), the interview would devolve from interrogation to screaming match. “Sirius Black, assistant coach of the Chudley Cannons. If you need a snazzy byline, feel free to call me Quidditch’s Savior.”

The reporter softened a bit and almost looked as if he were going to laugh. But then his quill touched parchment, his brow furrowed, and a second later another question errupted from his lips. “WHAT’S YOUR GOAL, THEN?! WHAT’RE YOU TRYIN’ TO DO? WHAT’S YOUR DYIN’ DREAM, PAL? WHAT’S THE POINT OF IT ALL?”

"Getting awfully philosophic for a sports column, aren’t we?” Again, Sirius’s voice was light, but something within him had seized upon hearing the question. What’s the point of it all? He’d asked himself that nearly every night for the past year, and he wasn’t any closer to finding an answer now than he was then. 

Quidditch wasn’t that deep, no need to go scurrying about the shadows. He’d keep things light. It was his job, after all. “I’m rebuilding the best team Quidditch has ever seen. Everyone’s counted the Cannons out for the season, and it hasn’t even started yet. I can’t wait for the first game when you all see what I’ve been seeing out on the pitch during practice. This year’s team has spirit to match skill, and we’ll be taking the cup this season.” A quick flutter of something like hope erupted within him. It was a fool’s hope, he knew that, everyone knew that, but it felt good to drown doubt with conviction. “That’s a promise, by the way.” 

Another flurry of the quill, another shifting of the reporter’s weight as if the world was forcing him off balance. Sirius slipped his fingers into his jeans and found himself rocking back onto his heels. He was about to walk away when the next question hit him like a bludger from a blindspot. “YA GOT ANYONE YOU’RE GOIN’ HOME TO? YOU HAPPY? YOU TAKEN? THEY FAMOUS? WHAT, A GUY CAN’T ASK A QUESTION?!”

Blind-sighted but laughing, Sirius clapped a hand against the reporter’s shoulder. “I’m not sure if you’re trying to start up a gossip column on the side or if you’re making an offer. Either way, color me flattered. But the answer depends on the night, and considering we’re on the record, I’d rather avoid giving you a straight answer.” He winked and let his hand fall back to his side. 

Across the field, a separate voice thundered: “Coach Black! Practice started ten minutes ago!” 

“That’s my cue,” Sirius said. “You know where to find me if you have any follow up questions, don’t be a stranger.” As Sirius walked away from the interview, the question unanswered nagged him: You happy? He swallowed it and stepped into the locker room. Maybe it was a good day to grab a broom and join his players on the pitch. 

𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙴𝙾𝚄𝚂:

PLAYLIST

PINTEREST

MOCK BLOG

AESTHETIC

BAD HABITS

GOOD HABITS

EXPRESSIONS OF LOVE

(LINKS TO COME AFTER ACCEPTANCES)

[inspired-by-the-music]

For You

Chapter 7: Love

Taglist: @jineunwootrash​

If you would like to be added to the taglist of any of these blog’s works, please ask!

Laying with Taemin should have been uncomfortable because a) I always slept alone, b) I had never been so (willfully) close to another person, and c) we hadn’t known each other long enough to justify my wish to stay so close forever.

When I pointed out in a whisper that we had only shared our first genuine conversation under the moon a few nights ago, I saw the outline of Taemin’s frown in the dark. His voice created small vibrations in his chest (where my head laid over his sky blue pajama shirt) when he asked, “Do you think I’ll have to love you for years before my feelings count?” 

As evidenced by the ragged breath that fell from his mouth, I hurt Taemin’s feelings without even trying. All that kept me from apologizing immediately was the fear that whatever I said might deepen his frown; so, instead of speaking, I felt around for his hand, pressed my freezing palm against his— warm— and threaded our fingers. 

“I really want to know what you think, Lei.” He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. 

What did I think? 

People rarely asked me, yet I tended to overthink my position on a given issue until I had exhausted every possible opinion. Maybe I was preparing for the occasion that never came— when somebody other than Lucas may value my outlook— until Taemin decided to wear my ribbon. 

Although I had thought of little other than Taemin since that night in the garden— or maybe it started that night by the lake— I had no concrete thoughts. That’s why I stuttered, “I— I don’t know. I want you to love me or like me—” 

Taemin said, “I do,” and I imagine that should have been the happiest moment of my life. 

So why wasn’t it? Why did that ache in my chest return? Why did I long for him as if he were worlds away when I was in his arms? When would this— our bond— feel real? 

“Then I want to believe you when you say that—” I didn’t pause to consider that I sounded like I was calling Taemin a liar— “but it sounds too good to be true.” 

Taemin must have realized that there was nothing he could say. We were at another impasse. Silence fell over us, and I didn’t want it to stay, so I spoke through the discomfort. 

“You have to understand who you are to me, Taemin.” Calling him an idol— stripping him of his humanity in such an intimate setting— was the worst thing to do. 

Tracing my thumb along his knuckles, trying to feel that he was real, I carefully continued, “You are somebody I’ve admired for years. Yours is a voice I cherished long before you had anything to say to me. I loved you before I met you, and—” I hoped he wouldn’t think less of me for believing, “the problem with dreams coming true is that you always wake up or the dream becomes a nightmare.”

Taemin must have been shocked by my honesty. Seconds or hours or eternities passed quietly before he said, “I think that you should learn to enjoy dreams— if that’s what we are— as they happen. I think you can ruin the night if you spend the time worrying about what could happen when the sun rises.” 

Of course, it occurred to me before that worrying achieves nothing. On some level, I always knew that I could benefit from learning to live in the moment— finding that balance between being a successful idol and being a happy person. Yet, it was as if Taemin had turned on the light with his gentle warnings that were always prefaced by the phrase, “I think,” because he was too humble to boast, “I know.” 

I already decided that I didn’t want to be lonely. 

Then, as silence fell again, I decided that I didn’t want to be incapable of appreciating beauty until it had faded out of my grasp. That’s why I lifted my head from Taemin’s chest: I wanted to admire him. I wanted to really see him clearly. 

I didn’t expect that he would be looking at me as if patiently waiting for me to return his gaze. 

Before I could sort through my thoughts, I was saying his name. “Taemin, I just really want you to be here when the sun rises.” 

If he was as shocked by the mid-night declaration as I was, he certainly didn’t show it with that radiant smile. “Okay,” was all he said before holding my head against his chest where I heard it: his heart was soaring, racing, beating for me like mine was for him.

. . . 

Interviews— although often uncomfortable— were never as unbearable as a solo artist as they were as a member of SuperM. Part of the issue was that, without my phone, I couldn’t scroll through social media to educate myself on the popular topics of gossip. 

It wasn’t so shocking when the first interviewer asked if Lucas and I were a couple. That question had been following us for years and (I guessed) the rumors about our supposed undying love were amplified by LX2’s existence. 

I was winded, however, when the rumors started to stray from Lucas. Almost daily, in my place between Ten and Mark (or English line, as the fans called us, since our knowledge of the language facilitated the American interviews), I sat with my hands clenched into tight pale fists, jaw set, as I waited to discover which member I was alleged to be sleeping with this time. 

The interview started, as they usually do, with a relatively unoffensive question: “Who from Korea do you keep in touch with while you’re on tour?”

The host was a middle-aged man— bearded and wearing glasses and a t-shirt— who twitched with every frequent sip from his coffee mug. He listened with feigned interest to the other members who answered with some variation of the fact that they stayed in contact with the members of their individual groups (except Baekhyun, who replied, “Super Junior’s Donghae,” just to watch my fists tighten in their place in the lap of my black skirt), before fixing his stare on me. 

“What about you? You’re a solo act outside of SuperM, right?” It was promising at first, the realization that he had done some research, but my hopes that maybe— finally— I was participating in a legitimate interview crashed with the following question. “Do you have a boyfriend back in Korea that you text every night, you know, just to tell him, ‘hi, I love you, I promise I’m not hooking up with any of my superstar bandmates?’”

Questions like that made my blood boil. He didn’t want to know my answer. He didn’t care who I talked to or who I loved. He just wanted to watch me squirm as he pried into my personal affairs. 

“Yes,” I said as calmly as possible, “I am a solo artist. No, I do not have a boyfriend in Korea—”

He raised his eyebrows, probably, in preparation to ask if my boyfriend was touring America with me, but I continued, “When I’m on tour, I try to find time to talk to Joy of Red Velvet or Amber Liu. If I need advice on something related to my performance, I’ll waste no time in calling Girls’ Generation’s Taeyeon.” 

Why didn’t anybody ever ask about my friendships with those girls? It seemed wrong that everyone should be so fixated on my romantic relationships — of which there had only been one that was held as our precious secret— when I would have been more than happy to share the friendships that shaped me as a person and as an artist. 

That interviewer seemed to share Baekhyun’s recently developed interest in making me as uncomfortable as possible. He asked the group, “So, was it hard to teach your new girl all of the choreography? Just how long did it take her to get it?”

In situations like that, I liked to think that I was somehow misunderstanding the question or mistaking the tone. Sometimes, that was the only way to keep myself from snapping. Sometimes, that was the only way I could sit there, legs crossed, without shattering my perfect posture and perfect smile. 

Ten’s temper was as bad as mine— worse, actually— so I didn’t fully succumb to my irritation when he rolled his eyes at the question. I didn’t acknowledge that I had a right to be uncomfortable, that the interviewer was truly being rude, until Kai leaned forward to tap Mark on the shoulder and request, “Translate, please.”

As soon as Mark translated the question, Kai replied in rapid-fire Korean that I couldn’t quite keep up with, “That’s a stupid-ass question. Lei isn’t in the group just because she’s a girl or because she’s pretty or because she’s popular. She’s here because she’s talented. And we’re not here to answer stupid questions that belittle our members.” 

We all stared at Kai as he sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting his lips. Ten and I, wearing twin stunned expressions, looked (along with the interviewer) for Mark to translate Kai’s answer.

“I — uh—” Mark stuttered— “Kai said, no offense— I added that part— but that question is kinda— no, really disrespectful to Lei.”

Ten agreed, jumping at the opportunity to strike the interviewer with his sass. “Yeah. For us NCT guys—” he gestured to the other NCT members— “although some of us are older, Lei is, like, our senior because she debuted first. We didn’t have to teach her anything. She teaches us.”

Mark translated Ten’s comment for the others, and Lucas and Taeyong murmured in agreement. 

I shook my head despite the affection swelling in my chest. “No, that’s not true. You guys teach me a lot.” 

The interviewer’s stare was all that kept me from saying that Taeyong taught me about leadership, integrity, and honest communication. Ten reintroduced me to the joy in dancing, which (for me) had become less of a soulful expression and more of a mechanical execution of choreography. Lucas taught me so much— too much to describe with words— but the most important lesson was to laugh like nobody is watching even though somebody was always watching. Mark reminded me that people— some people— even in the entertainment industry are good just for the sake of being good. 

And I loved them for that, so I declared, “I love my members,” including (of course) Taemin, Kai, and Baekhyun (even though he was a little demon). I meant it so earnestly that I forgot to consider how my words could be perverted. 

“Yeah, but which member do you love most?” The interviewer winked. 

Gathering from my glare at his perversion of “love,” the interviewer redirected the question to the other members, asking, “So we all know it’s happening— who’s sleeping with Lei?”

Granted, I was technically sleeping with Taemin. We would never admit it in an interview, but we had fallen into the habit of falling asleep in the warmth of each other’s embrace. Maybe, then, my blush was caused by the embarrassment of a) having such an intimate aspect of my life aired publicly and b) having it questioned with so little understanding and respect. 

Before I spoke my mind, Mark said the stupidest sentence in recorded history: “Look, man, as bandmates we’re all involved with each other, but we’re not, like, involved.”

Ten started growling, “What—” before I cut my eyes away from Mark to tear into the interviewer. 

Of course, he didn’t shrink under my stare or burn from the flames flung by my narrowed eyes. It didn’t matter that he seemed to delight in my reaction; I spoke the truth not for his benefit but for mine. 

“Aside from being disgusting— the fact that you can only look at me and see my worth as some sexualized creature— it’s appalling that you spread these rumors with absolutely no regard for how it affects my image and my career. These guys—” I shrugged in reference to the other members— “are expected to priorities their relationships with their fans above all else—”

“Don’t you think that’s a little ridiculous, though?” The interviewer slurped into his microphone as he took a sip of his coffee. “Don’t you think these guys should date if they want?”

Yes. Of course, I did. They deserved to do whatever would make them happy. 

“What they do is none of my concern.” The words were diplomatic, but my tone was not. “It is a problem for me, however, that this narrative painted by those, like yourself, in the media depicts me not only as a disgraced idol but— more importantly— as somebody willing to squander artistic opportunities by sleeping with everybody in a band. Learn to respect me as a woman, an idol, or a human being. Take your pick.”

My hand raised to detach the microphone from the collar of my white button-down top cut just above the navel, but it paused when he asked, “If the standards are so harsh on idols— especially women— don’t you think you’re obligated to challenge the standard?”

His question— spoken so casually as if he weren’t advocating mindlessly for the impossible— should have stunned me silent. It didn’t.

“No,” I said not because I was the perfect idol, not because I wanted to uphold that illusion in that moment, but because I was emboldened by the reality, “I am an artist, not a revolutionary.” 

Before the interviewer could challenge me further— before I could act on the pulsating desire to rip the microphone off, throw it onto the ground, and stomp it under my unnecessarily high red heels, Mom intervened with the muttered excuse that we had other events to attend. She even thanked that bastard for his time. 

I know that was her job— I knew that then— but I felt too angry, too betrayed, to look in her direction afterward. Our relationship wasn’t even remedied in the car when she returned mine and Lucas’s phone with the instruction, “Behave from now on. And brace yourselves for the incoming social media storms when that interview is broadcast.”

Lucas was so thrilled to have his phone, his true best friend, returned that he dropped his arm from its protective place around my shoulders. 

Instantly my screen lit from notifications of fans’ reactions to that interview. It must have been a live broadcast. Not quite ready to face praise or criticism, I locked my phone and shoved it into the narrow space between mine and Lucas’s body. 

With my face burning from the realization that there would be no opportunity to edit or retract any part of my outburst— not that I really wanted to— I rounded on Mark, who sat right behind me (beside Taemin who, of course, sat beside Kai). 

“What the hell was that about, Mark?” My imitation of his voice was so accurate that in the seat ahead of me, Ten threw his head back in a bitter sort of laughter. “‘We’re involved, but we’re not involved? What kind of stupid shit—”

Taemin had been smiling when I first turned around, but his expression turned to one of complete bewilderment. His understanding of the incident must have been limited by the interview’s language barrier. He whispered to Kai, “What’s wrong?”

As Kai (who had been donning a scowl that rivaled mine since his outburst) tried to explain the situation to Taemin, Mark stared at me with eyes so wide and guilty that I would have forgiven him instantly if I hadn’t spent so many years swallowing my frustration that I could no longer package my emotions back into their appropriate internal boxes. 

“I’m sorry,” Mark stuttered, “I didn’t mean to say something so stupid—”

“Well, you did!” Ten whirled around to yell at him, brows angled and ears crimson. “If that’s going to be your contribution in interviews, I’m kicking you off English line!”

Mark argued, “You can’t kick me off English line! That’s not how it works! As long as I know English, I’m on English line—” he laughed nervously and reached for my shoulder— “right, Lei?”

Usually, I probably would have laughed along with Ten before siding with Mark. Even in that moment of rage, I worried that I was being too harsh on Mark. It wasn’t really his fault that the media (and that interviewer in particular) was so problematic. Still, that concern didn’t prevent me from crossing my arms, turning around and tugging sharply out of Mark’s reach, and fixing my gaze on the back of Ten’s seat.

As if sensing that I wanted nothing more than to go deaf to Ten’s bickering and Mark’s incessant pleas for me to “please turn around” and forgive him, Taeyong tossed me a pair of earphones and an apologetic grin— if you can really call it a grin. 

Even after I plugged the headphones into my phone and tried to drown my anger in the music flooding into my ears, I rolled my eyes when Mom’s voice raised to snap, “Be quiet back there! I’m on an important call!” before saying into the receiver, “I’m back, Heechul.”

I could only vaguely hope that neither she nor Heechul would say anything loudly enough for Baekhyun, sitting in the passenger seat (one of the perks of being the leader), to hear.

Although Amber, Joy, and Taeyeon had brightened my day with their support, I didn’t feel like running to the pool with the guys when we returned to the hotel. While they were immersed in excited chatter, I beelined to the elevator, rejoicing when Baekhyun told Lucas (who must have been trying to follow me), “Give her space. If she’s anything like Momager, you don’t wanna be around while her temper is flaring.”

I wanted to be alone, but not because my temper was flaring. My furious blush had been abandoned in the car hours ago. Mostly, I was sorry for snapping at Mark— too sorry to look at him or even think of him without picturing the pained expression that settled on his face when I yelled at him— and bothered that my relationship with Taemin had been so misconstrued by that gross interviewer. 

Bothered wasn’t a strong enough word, but I don’t know how else to describe how I felt. It wasn’t quite anger; my face would have been burning still, and I would have been grinding my teeth and balling my hands into fists as I pressed my back against the cold wall. It was more like sadness (but without the pain in my chest) because tears were blurring the edges of my vision, and my lips were trembling. 

The tears weren’t quite ready to fall, so I was standing there with hands ready to catch them when he forced his way through the closing elevator doors. I don’t know if the doors were even closed before Taemin had his arms wrapped around me. 

Because I hadn’t expected him to be so close again until the moon rose, I gasped at the contact, too stunned to return the affection. It was over as soon as it started, over well before the sounding of the chime announcing that we had arrived on our floor. 

Neither of us spoke until we were inside the room, safe from prying eyes. Although we were still wearing our clothes from the day of interviews, although the sun had not yet set, Taemin sat on the bed we called ours— which was still unmade because we had to run downstairs after ignoring our first alarm that morning— and opened his arms for me. 

The version of me who crawled to him wasn’t the same person I had been for most of my life. The version of me who was comfortable with wanting Taemin, who didn’t feel weak for leaning on him— she was a good person. I wished to be her all the time. I was hurt by the outside voices that said I couldn’t be. 

Taemin didn’t ask me to explain why tears were swimming in my eyes, but I did. “I know that we can’t tell other people what we have. I don’t want to waste my breath explaining things nobody can understand anyway. But why do people who don’t even know us have to try to take what’s our and make it into something— something less than what it is?”

Taemin’s fingertips that traced the skin below the hem of my shirt were uncharacteristically cold; they made me shiver. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, “and I’m sorry that happened. I’m sorry I can’t carry more of the burden for you.” 

I looked at his face and saw it in the tensing of his jaw: the frustration that he hadn’t been able to understand when I was under attack, the bitter knowledge that (even if he had known) he couldn’t have defended me without arousing suspicions that we were in a relationship. 

Unlike the Lucas rumors that, despite persisting through years of rejection, carried no real weight because they were untrue, rumors about Taemin would have been suffocating because, to some degree, they were true. How would I be able to deny an outright allegation against us? Even if my words lied, my face would convey the truth that Taemin was my first love. 

I was going to tell Taemin that he didn’t have to carry any burden for me— I only wanted him to hold me like this every night to brace me for the next day— but when I looked at him, I couldn’t speak. He was dressed as Taemin the idol, and for a fleeting second, I transformed into the version of myself who couldn’t believe that he was real and in this place with me. 

“They can’t take what’s ours, though.” He linked our hands, smiled brightly, and he was real. “And that means nobody can make it less than what it is.”

Taemin pressed his forehead to mine. I imagine that he was giddy with the realization that our relationship— although unconventional and undefined (‘soulmates’ who weren’t ‘dating’)— was as significant to me as it had always been to him. I imagine that he might have kissed me if Mom hadn’t knocked on the door. 

As I leaped from the bed to answer the door, Taemin snatched something from his suitcase, slid into the bathroom, and locked the door. 

I carefully swallowed the red-hot anger I had been harboring toward Mom (since she thanked that interviewer for his time) before opening the door. She was on the phone again, but she held it away from her ear when I ushered her into the room. 

She sat perched on the edge of the still-made untouched bed, placed the phone by her side, and said, “You know, Lei, as your manager, I have to discourage you from ever repeating your behavior from that interview this morning.” 

Had I been able to find my voice as I stood there, staring down at her with tightly clenched fists, I would have wanted to spit back that I would say exactly what I said that morning every day for the rest of my life because it was true. The thing is, though, I think that kind of honesty was a once in a lifetime thing. The circumstances that prompted that outburst were a perfect storm; placed in an identical situation tomorrow, my voice might fail me. 

“But as your mother—” a bright smile overwhelmed her stern expression— “I have to say that I’m very proud of you for standing up for yourself!”

When Mom flew off the bed to throw her arms around me, I wrestled with the thought that maybe she struggled to find the balance between mom and manager as much as I struggled to find the balance between human and idol. I thought she was a good mom and a good manager, and I might have told her if she hadn’t released me to grab her phone from the bed. 

“There’s somebody else who wants to speak to you too.” 

From that mischievous glint in her eyes, I should have expected Heechul’s voice to burst through the speaker when I held the phone up to my ear. 

“KID—” he would always call me ‘kid’ no matter how old I was— “I AM SO PROUD OF YOU! NOBODY HAS EVER BEEN AS PROUD AS I AM OF YOU—”

I smiled as I held the phone away from my ear, squirming at the realization that if Heechul was congratulating me, I must have been a rogue idol.

Had anyone been paying attention to us, they would have noticed that Taemin and I walked to the pool together. Of course, we were careful not to hold hands or allow our gazes to linger, but whenever Taemin was near me, I felt that there must be some outward evidence of our bond. 

I knew that it was better that the others were too engrossed in their volleyball game (except Ten, who sat on a sun chair in a well-shaded corner) to notice us until Lucas and Kai wildly beckoned for us to join the game. Yet, although I hadn’t so much as whispered to Lucas that there was something between me and Taemin, I was always slightly disappointed when none of these people— who were my closest friends— noticed what (to me) was impossible to ignore.

Taemin, clad in black swimming trunks, dashed to Kai’s side, but I explained my reluctance to join the game. “I don’t wanna get my hair wet.” Really, though, I didn’t want to shed my denim shorts. 

As I walked to claim the seat next to Ten, Baekhyun cupped both hands around his mouth and yelled, “Lei! Bring me a drink!” and pointed to a small blue cooler. 

When I held a freezing Sprite out to him, standing a safe distance from the edge of the pool because I expected him to pull me into the water, I teased, “You should really use your manners, Baek. ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’ are nice words.”

He swam over to me, opened the drink, and winked. “Thanks. Ya know, you should follow your own advice and go thank Ten over there.”

I wrinkled my eyebrows at Baekhyun as he gulped the drink down in one sip. “Why?”

“Ah!” Baekhyun beamed at the can as if it contained the best drink he had ever tasted or as if it had been his first drink after months of wandering through a desert. I rolled my eyes at his theatrics, and he laughed. “Oh! Because he came up with the best plan to get Momager and Donghae— Momhae, as I call them— together!”

Miraculously, nobody turned their head at Baekhyun’s hollering. I blinked at him as if that were an adequate defense against his devilish smile and feigned ignorance as best as I could. “What?”

Knowing that he had done enough to get under my skin— he had done enough to flash his hand without showing all the tricks he held up his sleeve— Baekhyun shrugged. “Why don’t ya ask Ten about it?” He suggested before swimming back to the volleyball game, leaving the Sprite can empty at my feet. 

After tossing Baekhyun’s trash into the bin, I sat next to Ten. Pulling my sandaled feet onto the chair, I tried to study his expression to gather whether he actually knew about “Momhae.” Because he was wearing huge black sunglasses that covered most of his face, I couldn’t piece anything together.

I didn’t even know if Ten noticed me until a smirk tugged at his lips. “Like what ya see?”

I hadn’t even been looking at Ten like that, yet the suggestive lilt of his voice painted my face a pale pink. Maybe Ten couldn’t see my blush through his sunglasses, but I tore my gaze away anyway and sat back in my chair, arms crossed over my short cropped t-shirt. 

Ten lowered his glasses to delight in my reaction to his teasing. Something about that sparkle in his eyes annoyed me— emboldened me to reply, “No, not really.” 

Realizing that I wasn’t playing along with his flirtations, Ten’s jaw dropped (maybe to ask what was wrong with me), but I didn’t give him a chance to speak. “You shouldn’t be talking about my mom’s personal affairs with Baekhyun of all people.”

Ten only said, pitch high from confusion, “What?”

And I realized that Baekhyun tricked me into bringing Momhae up to another member. When he waved at me (just before Taemin launched the volleyball at his obnoxiously large head), I thought I could have murdered Baekhyun. 

Ten knew absolutely nothing about Mom and Donghae. He probably hadn’t considered anything about Mom’s life outside of being a manager until I opened my big mouth. Now, he was looking for me to explain my outburst, and I only had time to briefly thank God that I hadn’t mentioned Donghae’s name before Lucas plopped down onto the foot of my chair. 

I could have barked at Lucas for shaking his head like a wet dog and soaking me with pool water, but I was too grateful that he had come to dig me out of this awkward situation with Ten. Once he opened his mouth, however, I realized that Lucas was there to worsen matters. 

As if Ten wasn’t sitting right there, still staring at me, Lucas said, “Dude, Lei, I’ve been meaning to tell you since, like, the start of the tour that Taemin likes you.” 

Had I not known, I might have been as shocked as Ten, who sat up so quickly that his sunglasses fell onto the ground. “What? Taemin likes Lei?”

When my instinct was to hiss for Ten to be quiet, Lucas narrowed his eyes at me. “Wait. You’re not surprised enough. Did Taemin already tell you he likes you?”

I never stopped being surprised by how perceptive Lucas was. Usually, that trait made him a remarkable best friend because it enabled him to know when I was troubled without requiring an awkward exchange of feelings. In that moment, however, I wanted to kick Lucas for somehow knowing everything. 

I didn’t lie exactly. “I don’t think Taemin likes me.” I didn’t think; I knew.

Neither Ten (who just liked to tease everybody) nor Lucas (who just wanted to know every intimate detail of my life) was satisfied by that response. When they continued to pester me about Taemin, I had to adopt the same tone I used in the interview to scold, “Cut it out, guys. I still have to sleep in a room with him tonight and for the rest of the tour, and you’re making it weird!”

My heart was still racing after they ceased their demands for more information. I was so overwhelmed by the fact that I had almost shared my two deepest secrets— Donghae’s love for Mom (which was directly related to her true identity as the idol who never debuted) and my love for Taemin— that I retired to my room early without apologizing to Mark, which was the entire reason why I walked down to the pool in the first place.

[msjr0119]

Marshgate Prison

Part 4

At Marshgate Prison, New York City- Riley Brooks begins a new job as a Prison guard. The inmates and guards who work there have kept many secrets hiden. Will she become involved in these secrets? How will she react to the common riots that constantly take place in the rough prison.

Book: The Royal Romance, AU.

All characters belong to Pixelberry unless stated otherwise (OC- they belong to me):

Drake x Riley, Liam x Beth(OC)/Olivia/Celine(OC), Leo x Beth, Maxwell x ?, Savannah x Bertrand.

A/N: Oh my goodness, this series has been on hiatus for months and months! I’m so sorry! Even though this part has been stuck in my drafts! It’s a bit of a ‘filler’ chapter. It gets better after this. If there’s any spelling or grammar mistakes please bypass this. As a few of you already know, I recently found out that I was pregnant and at the moment I have what they call ‘baby brain’ 🤣

Please do not read if you are under 18! By doing so you are consenting that you are over this age 👍🏼. If any of the warnings below affect you please do not continue to read.

Warnings ⚠️ : adult language, mention about an attack (past tense), slight smut.

Word count: 1,800ish

Tags- I’ve completely forgotten who was on the tag list without looking back at previous chapters. As always if you want to be removed or added just let me know:

@pedudley @loveellamae @kacie-0156 @annekebbphotography @ladyangel70 @bascmve01 @texaskitten30 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @kimmiedoo5 @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @axwalker @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @cordonianroyalty

Catch up here in case you need to refresh your memories.

******

“Excuse me?”

“You heard us Drake, you’re a free man.” Savannah and Maxwell jumped up, she ran over towards Liam and Constantine hugging them tightly- that tight that they both felt like they were suffocating. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

“Walker, what are you doing still sat there? Get your belongings and escape before we change our minds.” Liam said sarcastically, before dragging him out of the office. Walking to his cell, it was robotically- normally inmates would be running and doing the great escape. But not Drake Walker. He was still in shock, that the Warden had allowed him to be released early. Especially after the confession of love from his guard in front of everyone on her ‘death bed.’

Liam joined Drake in his cell, he was going to miss his closest friend that he had made in Marshgate. He knew that it was highly unprofessional to be close to an inmate, but there was something about Drake. They just instantly clicked.

“How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know. I know that I was innocent, but this felt like home. Don’t get me wrong I’m excited to see my nephew and to see if anything could happen between myself and Riley.”

“Talking about Riley. Are you going to visit her?”

“Of course I am, Liam. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Just wondered. I think it’ll be a nice surprise when she’s out of hospital to see you.”

“What are you suggesting?”

*****

Leaving the prison with his family, he hesitated before getting in the cab. Turning back around it still hadn’t fully sunk in that he was a free man. The memories of the place, bad yet also good would remain in his mind.

“Are you ready to meet Bartie? Or do you want to see Riley first?”

“I need to see her, Sav. I know we left the hospital before but I need to go back. I’m staying with you guys- I’ll take Bartie out tomorrow if that’s okay?”

“Of course, lets go. Drake? I really like Riley- I know I’ve only met her a couple of times, but don’t hurt her.” Looking disgusted due his sister’s comment, he shook his head.

“She’s the only one that’s given me a chance, even knowing what happened. I’m in love with her Savannah, I’m not going to let her down.”

****

Arriving at the hospital, Liam met them there- bringing along some chains for the facade.

“Hey, beautiful.”

“D-Drake?”

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. I know I said I’d stay safe, but it was an accident. I didn’t have my baton- I don’t know where it went. How’s Hana?”

“Why the fuck are you asking about her? She did this to you.”

“It was an accident, Drake. I’m going to be unemployed aren’t I?”

“I don’t know how she is. I haven’t seen her. No you’re not. You still have a job. Did you mean what you said? About loving me?”

“I do. I thought I was dying- I had to let you know how I felt.”

“I’d never let you die. I love you too.”

“Time’s nearly up Romeo. Hey, love. How are you doing?” Liam hated interrupting their moment together. His heart sunk, seeing how affectionate Drake was with her. How attentive he was holding her hand. They barely knew each other, but what was in front of him- was true love. Love at first sight. Something he and his estranged wife had never had.

“I’m fine. Glad to see you up and about. We’re a right pair aren’t we? More like the chuckle brothers rather than prison guards.”

“Heh. The nurses have explained that you could be discharged in a couple of days. I’ll try and twist an arm so you both can see each other. I’ll give you both five more minutes before visiting hours end.” Stretching out to grab her colleagues arm, her baby blues were surrounded by sorrow.

“Liam, I can’t repay the favour. Not until I’m back at work anyway.” Referring to their little arrangement, Liam didn’t care anymore. He had fucked Olivia without getting caught well before Riley was on the scene.

“This is about you two. Not myself.”

Drake felt appreciative towards Liam’s approach about the forbidden love. Watching him leave, he just wanted to blurt out that he had been released. To scoop Riley into his arms, take her home- give her a bit of TLC. But they had an agreement to wait. An agreement between everyone at Marshgate including Drake’s family.

“I can’t believe that you are here.”Cupping his cheek, her thumb grazed his cheek- as he placed his hand over hers.

“I can’t believe that you nearly got yourself killed after minutes of working at Marshgate.”

“I don’t know what happened to my baton Drake. If I had it, I’d have been able to defend myself better. Does anyone know about us?”

“The Warden. But he’s cool with it.” Shrugging his shoulders, he acted as if it was normal- nothing out of the ordinary.

“What?” I’m sacked. Surely he’s lying.

“Your blood pressure is rising, calm down. He doesn’t give a shit. I promise you.”

“If he’s so cool with it, I’ll just come in to your cell then and fuck you.”

“Not quite...”

“What do you mean?” I mean I won’t be there.

“We’d still have to be secretive. Like Liam is with Liv.” He hated lying to her, he felt like the shittest person alive. Hoping that she wouldn’t hate him once she found out the truth.

“Okay. I can’t wait to get back to work then.” Rather than replying before he put his foot in it- he lent down, kissing her softly. Savouring the taste of her lips, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to see her as often as he liked- not without his ‘fake’ guard anyway.

“Liam will be back any second. I don’t want to leave you, but....”

“But you have to. Don’t worry. I’ll see ya, when I see ya, Walker.”

“See ya later, screw.” Winking at her, he couldn’t help but use the prison slang term for her job role. Placing one last lingering kiss on her lips, he was soon escorted out by Liam. Biting his lip he tried not to show that his chin was about to tremble, the tears that were so cleverly held back were now ready to burst.

“This plan will work, don’t worry about it. Trust me, Drake.”

******

The morning after, Drake woke up in Savannah’s apartment. A mixture of feelings were roaming throughout his mind. It felt weird sleeping in a normal bed after all this time. Hearing familiar voices clearly rather than through a pay phone with a faint line due to the background noise of the inmates. Then there was feelings about Riley. The girl that he had instantly fallen in love with. The forbidden love between an inmate and a guard. She was glued into his mind. Paranoia was also lingering, wondering what it would be like walking the streets as a free man. Would people recognise him? Would they gossip about him? He was innocent, but still in a way felt guilty. Making his way through to the kitchen his heart sunk seeing his nephew for the first time in person.

“Bartie, this is your Uncle Drake.”

“Hey, little fella!”

“It’s okay, sweetie. Give uncle Drake a cuddle.” The little boy looked up-to his mother for reassurance before running in to his arms. Drake held him tightly, and placed a kiss on to his forehead. Not wanting to let him go.

“Do you want to go and feed the ducks at the park after breakfast?” Bartie nodded, “Uncle grumpy”. The smile that was on Drake’s face would now be hard to erase. This was the life, having his family with him in person. Now all he had to claim the girl as his own.

******

A few weeks later, Riley was feeling down. Her cousin Celine had moved to New York City after hearing about Riley’s attack. They hadn’t spoken in years, and Riley was frustrated that she was ‘mothering’ her. Most people would feel grateful for the help- however, Riley just seemed to be looking after herself as well as Celine. After a quiet shift at work with Liam, she just wanted to go home and go to bed. For her own safety, they advised her not to guard the women- especially to not be anywhere near Hana. For now, anyway.

“Don’t go home. We are all going out for drinks. I think you should join us.” Liam attempted to persuade her. He didn’t want to force it up on her, and push her away. Riley always made an excuse up, even used the common shit one ‘I’m washing my hair’.

“If I invite Celine along, will you leave me alone?” Liam blushed at the mention of her name.

“Sure, invite her.”

“Why are you blushing at the mention of her name, Liam?”

“Your cousin is beautiful. I can’t deny that.”

“I hope that your wife or Olivia haven’t somehow placed a wire on you. Or you’d have no balls left.” Fixing a fake smile, she held his hand as they walked out. “Let’s get drunk.”

Riley didn’t want to go to the bar with Liam and the rest of the guards- her heart felt empty. Believing that the alcohol would blank the hurt out even if it was short term. Deep down she had wished that Hana had finished the job. Drake Walker has been transferred to another prison- those words kept roaming through her mind, ever since she had returned to work. They never left.

“Hey, let’s celebrate for surviving your first riot at Marshgate, and for you coming back fighting.” Riley rolled her eyes back. Feeling paranoid, she could hear her other colleagues whispering about her - biting her lip she didn’t want to cause anymore issues within the work place. Liam kept checking his phone, for updates- a smile crept up on his face.

“Would you like to dance Riley?” Please say yes and stop being stubborn.

“Why are you asking me? Why not Celine? I mean you’ve had your tongue down her throat all night.” Smirking she wouldn’t like to be in his position, leading three women on. Even if one of them was sleeping with someone else- his brother. Feeling slightly jealous, she made sarcastic comments in order to to prevent her feelings being known.

“Because I want to dance with my colleague. Is that so wrong?”

Riley agreed, forcing the shot down her throat- she placed her hand into Liam’s. Twirling her around he whispered in her ear- I’m going to twirl you again then briefly let go of your hands, I’ll grab you after. Close your eyes, embrace the music.

“What?”

“Just do it, Riley.” Following his commands, she felt like a twat- closing her eyes, dancing in a dive bar. Turning back around, Liam didn’t grab her as promised. Instead there was an aroma of a freshly picked bouquet lingering around her. Stumbling due to the sudden smell, she soon felt somebody grab her- she knew it wasn’t Liam’s hands. Fluttering her eyes open, she believed that she was hallucinating.

“Hey, beautiful. Surprise!”

[mimzy-writing-online]

Blind Characters and Superpowers

As I (a blind writer) continue to write guides on how to write a blind character accurately and with respect, I get a lot of questions from you guys. I love them, but I’ve noticed that the majority of questions I get about writing blind characters involve some form of super power or supernatural ability to “get around” the blindness. And it’s leading me to wonder why anyone is writing a blind character at all. If the story cannot work without them having some form of super power to make them useful and capable, then why is the character blind at all.

And who says fighting is the only way a character could ever be useful or helpful. Why does a person have to useful anyway?

Truth be told, I don’t need to see myself in the superhero. I’m not sure how many blind people need to see themselves as the superhero. I don’t see myself as the person at the front lines, I see myself as the person helping the survivors put themselves back together. I see myself as the person on the sidelines who is both emotionally supporting the heroes, and doing everything in my reasonable power to help them. But that is just my perspective, and my perspective is not universal. 

Maybe some people do wanna see themselves as a superhero, and maybe some people want to see themselves as the unsung hero. Both roles are just as valuable and needed.

This post is to address: Why your blind character doesn’t need to be the fighting hero at the center of the story, and why having a blind character on the sidelines is just as good. This post is also going to discuss why you actually want to give a character a superpower and whether or not you should reconsider.

Disclaimer: I am one blind person, and my opinions and my advice are based on my experience. I am considered visually impaired from the narrowly defined legal definition, but due to my condition (which is far more complex than visual acuity) and the way I function with my disability, really, I’m just blind. And that’s been my life for a few years now. I’m not the universal authority on blindness, I can’t tell you everything nor can I absolve you of any mistakes or problematic plotlines. 

I’m just one person, and right now I’m the only person with experience as both a writer and a blind person who is willing to give and offer advice.

(as far as I know)

So? On to the conversation.

Why are you giving your blind characters superpowers?

I love Toph. I love Daredevil. But they are not the only amazing blind people I look up to. I see myself a little in Toph, but I don’t see myself in Daredevil. Heroes aren’t usually where I see myself.

Actually, I did see myself the Twelfth Doctor on Doctor Who for the two episodes he was blind. But the show took that away from me when they cured him. And it wasn’t even his choice!

(See why I might get so miffed about someone curing their character?)

But there’s a difference between Toph and Daredevil, and with 12. Toph and Daredevil had abilities that allowed them to get around and fight despite their blindness. 12 had a pair of sunglasses he enhanced with technology, and he was still kind of bad at the whole being blind thing. [Which I loved!]

I can’t have Toph or Daredevil’s superpowers, but I can have technology and learned skills that allow me (a blind person) to do some pretty freaking cool things.

Although, I also don’t have the Doctor’s brains or life experiences or technology. But 12′s way of dealing with his blindness has more in common with my real life experience than Toph or Daredevil did.

But speaking of Doctor Who, don’t you remember the blind girl from season 11 with the Thirteenth Doctor? Hanne, played by Ellie Wallwork. I adored her, and in a way I found myself in her. She didn’t need to be the hero, the person doing all the fighting. She didn’t need to be the person with the solution. She just needed to be a person with her own problems, and to make her own decisions about those problems. She ran away from Ryan and went into the upside down universe to find her father, and even though it was terrifying and she was putting herself at risk, it was still her own decision. She made it for herself. I would love to see myself in the hacker who helps the superhero find all the dirty secrets on someone. Think Felicity Smoke from Arrow, or Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds. Blind tech genuis! Give me that. I would love to see myself in the nurse who patches up the hero. I would love to see myself in a forensic scientist. Those are two careers I was seriously considering as my vision loss symptoms began to add up. I would love to see myself in the classmate who overheard all the great details of gossip, all the secrets, and could tell you anything about anyone. I would love to see myself as the best friend, and the romantic interest, and in the worried family member. In any of those roles, I would be helping my hero without doing the fighting. I’m not a fighter, but I will help those I love with everything I’ve got. 

And maybe the hero sees the blind character as their own personal hero, the person whose moral convictions they look up to, or the person who always knows the right thing to say, or the person who is just too damn smart for their own good. Maybe the hero sees a hero in the blind person, even if they never threw a punch. Why does the blind character need a superpower? Why is every hero story told from the perspective of the hero? I would like to see the story of the person who watches the heroes going to the fight, and does everything in their power to help from where they are. I want to see a blind character take full command of their position and the role without needing something to negate their blindness.

Your character doesn’t need to be the superhero to bring value to the story. Your character doesn’t need a superpower to do amazing things.

They’re the journalist, the social activist, the hacker, the scientist, the engineer, the psychologist, the teacher/mentor, the student, the chef, the expert in a niche field of interest, the writer, the artist. They’re someone important, and they don’t need a superpower to do those things.

(Part 2)

I think to address this we need to understand why you want to use a super power to allow your character to see.

Are you under the idea that a character has to be completely blind? That is most certainly not the case. Less than 10% of all blind people see nothing. Most blind people see something. It might be light and shadow. It might be color. They might see shapes that move but not shapes that are still. Maybe the world shakes, and it makes things 10x harder to see.That is a real problem people with nystagmus (a condition which makes someone’s eyes shake uncontrollably) live with. Maybe you should be more thoroughly researching different eye diseases and conditions to learn the real limits of your character.

Maybe you need to craft your blind character a bit better (link to a guide on that)

https://mimzy-writing-online.tumblr.com/post/185123396964/writing-a-blind-or-visually-impaired-character

Is it because you don’t know how to write from the narrative of someone who can’t see the scene around them? Is the description just not working with your character? Maybe I should point you in the direction of one of my guides, which gives advice on narrative and writing style with blind protagonists.

https://mimzy-writing-online.tumblr.com/post/185125198184/writing-blind-or-visually-impaired-characters

Are you giving them superpowers because you can’t imagine them doing the things you wanted them to do while being blind? Is it really too unrealistic for your blind character to do this task without vision? Maybe they shouldn’t be blind then. Or maybe you should consider doing more research. Surely, there is a way to complete a task without vision. Maybe you just don’t understand enough about orientation mobility or about technology to understand how we can do the things we do. Or maybe what you’re writing is just unrealistic.

Not to say that any story must be realistic, but perhaps at least reasonable. At least, realistic enough to maintain the suspension of disbelief while something impossible happens right before eyes. Maybe, you’re not writing a blind character because you actually want to write a blind character. Maybe you don’t want to write this. Maybe this character was only a token. Maybe this character was only an experiment. An exercise to see what your writing abilities could do. Maybe writing a character with a disability was fun in theory, and now you’ve gotten this far and you don’t understand how you could possibly keep going without cheating somehow and adding a super power. I won’t lie, and some of my earliest writing I was in the same place. Wanting to write from the perspective of something I didn’t understand because it sounded fun, or because I felt guilty for not being diverse enough. But if you lose consistency, or you need to cheat somehow to get around this problem, if this minority character or this unique experience has become a problem for your writing... Maybe you shouldn’t be writing this. Maybe the character just shouldn’t be blind. Why write it if it’s going to become a problem?

It’s not diversity if it takes away the thing that makes us diverse.

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Or, yeah, in which I snapped and went on a rant because I don’t understand why a character needs a superpower to cancel out their disability, or why we’re bothering to write a character with a disability if all we’re going to do is give them a superpower to make it less of a burden.

Did you like this post? Do you like this blog? Do you want to support the blogger?

This blog has two purposes. One, to give writing advice. The writing advice I post, the anon questions I answer, and the messages I answer in private are all done for free. I never ask for money to give advice. 

The second purpose is to promote my writing for when I eventually self publish my novel, A Witch’s Memory. Which includes a blind main character who is very dear to my heart.

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Here is the link A Witch’s Memory masterpost: 

https://mimzy-writing-online.tumblr.com/post/185647955184/a-witchs-memory-an-interview-with-the-author

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