#the thought of people outside of my small fandom space and my mutuals seeing shit i post is so scary

[tenebrous-dream]

this is the worst thing thats ever happened for me

(for context the pic on the top left, and other image in this post, is a pic of mine and i came across a twitter post including it when i was looking to see if any of my personal screenshots had been reposted elsewhere because. idk i was curious)

[therodrigator6]

Well, hello there fellers.

You can ignore this text post if you want, it comes straight from me, completely outside of Drawings or Proyect updates.

I just really felt as though I needed to take the time to write up my thoughts into a, very possibly, LOOOOOOOOOOOONG post, since I have a LOT on my head right about now.

So, my melancholy, rather depressing, but perhaps amusing, musings, under the cut.

Right, so my whole string of thought was sort of just... proppeled out of me reminiscing about the past... 2 years, maybe year and a half.

I got thinking hard about She-Ra again, LMAO. and I know, I KNOW, why am I even thinking about that damned show again.

BUT, I was really thinking hard about how much I went through, positively I mean, how much growth I had (Around my art and my vocation obviously) with She-Ra.

And really, if you were to scour through my blog, if you went back all the way to... maybe it was late 2018, early 2019, when I posted my first fanarts around She-Ra, you’ll see how far back I was, skill-wise. I mean I wasn’t exactly a beginner, but I weren’t no Grade A artist neither.

And PRIOR to all of that I had more or less drawn fanart intermitently.

Anyone who followed me back when I made RWBY stuff, specifically Whiterose fanart could attest to that. I wasn’t consistent at all, and I experimented more often than not with every single drawing I was making. And don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed drawing stuff for RWBY, I sort of miss it now LMAO.

But I can certainly see just HOW POWERFULLY drawn I was to She-Ra, because my output of content and the growth of my skill as an artist was EXPONENTIAL. I suppose in a way I owe it really to MY sudden... obsession? Fixation? on that show.

VERY HONESTLY, at this point in time, I feel like I could REALLY speak on what things drew me to She-Ra, and precisely what things KEPT me there. IDK I think it used to be a very special little show.

On one hand? I really had just decided to watch it because I was starting to fall out of love with RWBY.

RWBY WAS a show I’d also loved, and which also meant a lot to me, but the things that MEANT a lot to me, were just not given the story I would’ve been interested in. That AND the small fandom space I’d carved out for myself was getting even smaller. Smaller AND very... toxic? Uncomfortable? I felt as though... my efforts and my involvement in that fandom were neither welcome nor appreciated at one point, let alone the fact that on the SHIPPING side of things, it stopped being fun.

So there I was, starting She-Ra up. I’d known about it for some time before, and I’d *Heard* that it was a fun good show, and most specially... *With an active, HUNGRY fandom, raging about a very popular Ship*. So I thought to myself, YAY, I’ll watch this show and I’m REALLY gonna do my best to go for everything popular.

I was tired of unwelcoming fandoms, tired of enjoying the very little measly, *Unpopular* things about shows, this was all about having a GOOD time. And maybe finally getting my works out, really finding a motivation to create stuff.

I mean in hindsight, now I know I fucked myself over MANY times.

You see because, as soon as I started watching She-Ra, I TRIED to do something different about the way I consumed shows.

In the past I used to be VERY ship-centered about my show experiences, to the point were FANON-Ship-centric relationships with shows would make the stories I was watching really boring and bleak in comparison. I had been afraid at the time, that THIS would also ruin She-Ra for me. So I really thought about... NOT tainting my vision and perception of the show with... Fandom stuff, Fanon or Ship-centric views, NOT EVEN CREATOR INTERACTIONS. I really tried to watch it blind and enjoy it for what it was.

Fool I was, I should’ve done the opposite.

It’s a tired old story, and a really redundant thing for ME to talk about. But I really felt a DEEP disappointment with She-Ra. Akin to LOSS almost.

Cuz you see, for a year and a half I ended up CENTERING myself on She-Ra, on more than one level.

On one hand, I TRULY believed She-Ra was a show with a story that I loved, there were plenty of characters that REALLY spoke to me. Characters like Glimmer? for example? And her storyline? for me are *one in a million*.

Of course I’m... REALLY compacting my She-Ra experience. I had come to appreciate MANY things about it. It’s world, it’s story, the characters, the comedy, the animation, the people who loved it and grew because of it, etc.

Furthermore, once my initial *doubt* about the show had passed, I really immersed myself in the fandom side of things. And I gotta say, I really enjoyed it for as long as it lasted. I think I experienced a new level of feeling like I *belonged* in a community, and a feeling that people LIKED what I did for it, and that people wanted MORE of ME in it.

Alongside that, and going back to animation. Geez, She-Ra came at the best *or worst* (depends on how you wanna look at it in hindsight now, LMAO), time of my life.

Literally on the verge of me finishing up with Prepschool and having to chose a career for University.

Prior to She-Ra, I really was trying to pinpoint my vocation, and animation had been in my mind for a LONG time, since Steven Universe really.

AND... Idk, AGAIN, THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT SHE-RA... which told me... “This is important”. Animation is important, being able to tell tales for people is important. Telling tales for people who need it, or people who don’t often get to tell tales is important. This medium is BEAUTIFUL, I MEAN, LOOK AT EVERYTHING IT CAN SPAWN OUT OF PEOPLE.

So it helped me make THAT decision.

Also alongside these things well... I go back to all of that about “Belonging”, and “community”.

Boy I met some of the most amazing friends I ever have in my life. People whom I respect, people who I admire, people who thought like me, liked ME, enjoyed this show, etc.

OF COURSE, at the time, and I really should’ve known better. We met out of our mutual LOVE for Glimmadora, LMAO.

ME? FALLING IN LOVE WITH AN UNPOPULAR SHIP? Who’da thought.

AND I DID SO, *DAMN NEAR DIVORCED FROM FANDOM* LMAOOOOO, you can see how my “I’ll learn to love whichever aspects of this show I’m *gonna* love, outside of fandom influence” policy really just fucked me in the ass.

AND GOD, DID I *LET IT* BE A PART OF ME.

That comunity, those friends, that ship, that show, those creators. It was all I thought about, and it DROVE me. so much so I put up with so much shit from my University. I put up with so many bad things in my life that were going on because of that show.

And I see now that many of those friends I mentioned did too. GOD, how I wish... we just hadn’t.

I think... for most of us things had already been pretty shit, not gonna lie.

There was the pandemic, for a start. Prior to May the 15th I had an uncle of mine die of COVID, which shook me to *my* core, but dear old She-Ra and the Glimmadora fandom gang were there to cheer me on. (This was around the time really horrid people in the She-Ra fandom, whom LOATHED Glimmadora with a passion were making “Glimmadora shippers must have Covid, since a symptom of Covid is a lack of taste” Jokes btw.)

And I think of my friends also, who have always spoken to me about their problems and their lives. For all accounts I think, they’d always had it harder than me, and they found themselves a WILL and a DRIVE to go on... through this, through She-Ra, and our friendship.

Then May the 15th came and it’s all been going downhill from there HSEBRGJKSEHRBGKJSERHGBJK.

I mean... I understand NOW, just how DAMAGING for myself it was to... cling so much to that show, to all of it. NEVER should’ve connected the drive of my vocation to it.

Cuz yanno... even if I HAVE continued to grow and get better the past few months, some things haven’t changed for the better.

For instance, I basically LOST my entire space here, in fandoms, in ejoying shows. I LITERALLY ONLY CREATE NOW... Either out of spite, or for my friends.

There is a VERY DEEP loathing now within me about stuff like... Catradora for example. I hate it, it makes me feel disgusting, simple as that. And THAT kind of feeling isn’t welcome here, also simple as that. So I’m out of a space and that hurts.

PFFT, basically all the pieces I produce now, which I still do with a She-Ra theme. Nobody’s gonna wanna consume MY content anymore, and they don’t. I made sure they couldn’t because I knew, I wasn’t going to be able to stomache this She-Ra fandom anymore.

That’s been another thing too. I don’t like being a contrarian, I don’t like being the guy who thinks the thing everybody loves is bad or wrong, and if I could SO HELP ME GOD, I’d change my entire view of it all. I don’t really care about being right or wrong anymore, I just want that peace of mind back.

HELL, there were people I knew since 2016 almost, who kinda just told me...

Shut the fuck up or leave.

On some cases I shut my mouth, on others I just left.

And yanno... I do feel miserable about it. But it also makes it all the harder when I think of my friends?

GOD DAMN, EVERYTHING THAT *COULD* GO WRONG, WENT WRONG FOR THEM.

ALWAYS, for all of my friends. And even through the hurt, I sit here and think, well I think I still have hope! I think I still have a drive to go on and persue animation  and tell good stories.

But I understand now... that *I* have a priviledge over my friends. The priviledge of support. I’m not REALLY alone, there’s people helping ME.

My friends don’t have that, and I can’t give them that, how I wish I could.

And it does just HURT only being able to tell my friends, “HEY! Have hope things’ll be better!” And then we all turn to the only beacons of hope we shared, and seeing them all dull and out of light. No Glimmer of hope.

Like, how do you tell people to hold out, to keep fighting, to keep trying to STILL CHASE THEIR DREAMS... When you can’t even help them keep their heads high when they’re trying yo get a damned job. When no matter how much THEY try they keep getting knocked down.

When there’s no longer a space were they feel confortable sharing their creations, because everyone they had ONCE tried to please with them? suddenly decided they were of no value.

So here we are.

I’m starting up a new semester in a couple of days, hopefully building myself up more to chase MY dreams... whilst all my friends suffer and can’t chase theirs.

Shit’s fucked. I wish I could do more.

PFFT, I guess, long story short:

Life unfair, Me Sad.

Me Angery, Me Bitter

Me Lost, They Won

Boohoo I guess.

SO ANYWAYS... I really just... needed to put these thoughts out in words. Scream to the void as it were.

I can’t wait to go back into discord or twitter or tumblr and see how my friends can’t catch a fucking break.

And how things will continue to get worse before they get better.

God I hope they get better, for all of us, if not atleast for them. They’ve already gone through enough.

[puddygeeks]

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 48: Hᴇᴀʀᴛs Tʀᴜᴇ Dᴇsɪʀᴇ

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for.

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Chapter Forty-Eight

It took a couple of days for things to return to normal in camp and for my hickies to heal enough to show my face without feeling constantly self conscious. Knox made a few offhand comments about Bellamy during our shifts and I apologised for his recent intimidating behaviour. I avoided our friends for fear of any snide comments and Bellamy slipped back into his strangely inconsistent habits. 

After my shift in the kitchens, I wandered across the courtyard but my attention was caught by the sound of a nearby conversation. I paused in place to witness Mel chatting to Bellamy again and I recognised that neither of them had noticed me from the angle that I was standing in. She had her hand placed comfortably on his forearm and they were both laughing in a relaxed state. My stomach flipped with annoyance, despite my best efforts to deny it and I felt my jaw clench as I observed her making doe eyes at him. I tried to remind myself that he chose to take me back to his room every night and of all the small, attentive acts that he did daily to make my heart flutter, but they weren’t enough to remove the uneasy feeling in my chest. I rolled my eyes and dragged myself away to prevent my mind from torturing me any further. 

I found a spot near the hustle of the mechanical building to settle and work through the notes that I’d taken from my lessons with Octavia. Recently I felt that I was finally starting to grasp some parts of Trig, but it required consistent work to maintain it in my head and I had discovered that the rhythmic noises of tools helped me to focus. I heard footsteps approaching but kept my eyes trained on my papers in the hope that whoever it was would take the hint to leave me alone.

“There you are Trouble.” I recognised the gruff tone of Bellamy’s voice immediately and glanced up to find him smiling at me warmly. “Kane’s called a meeting to discuss more trips to Mount Weather for supplies, thought you’d want to know.” He stated and I raised my brows in interest. “Yeah, hopefully it won’t drag on for hours again, but if it does I’ll see you back at the room?” He added with a disinterested groan and I sympathised with his responsibility to attend.

“Damn, looks like I’ll have to tuck myself in.” I crooned with a playful expression and he chuckled lightly in a way that I adored the sound of.

“Where have you been all day anyway? I didn’t see you leave your shift.” He questioned and I was surprised that he’d even noticed the slight change in my routine. Most days lately we passed each other in camp as I moved from one commitment to the other and he’d usually throw me a cheeky wink or even slyly make an inappropriate comment if he got close enough.

“Oh, just thought I’d get some study time in.” I confirmed but he simply raised a brow at me suspiciously. “I did pass you in the courtyard earlier, but you were chatting to Mel. I thought I’d give you guys a chance to catch up.” I commented in what I hoped sounded like an idle manner and he shifted on the spot. 

“Ah, yeah she caught me for a while there.” He remarked and I concentrated heavily on maintaining a carefree posture. “She’s a nice girl, just very young. I think she’s still got a lot of training to do before I’d take her out as part of the guard.” He thought aloud and I nodded as I stared at my papers avoidantly.

“Hmm, she’ll be disappointed to be left behind. Be careful with that one.” I muttered absent mindedly and my stomach flipped as soon as the words left my mouth. He furrowed his brows at me and I cleared my throat to give myself a moment to consider my words. “Just...don’t lead her on, like you said, she’s young.” I advised with a shrug and he widened his eyes at me.

“Seriously Indie?” He drawled and I held my hands out defensively. “Look, I saved her life when she crashed to Earth, so she looks up to me. She’s another student for me to train, that’s all.” He detailed with a disbelieving tone to his voice, causing me to sigh.

“Are you sure that she knows that?” I asked as I peeked up at him and he analysed me with a slight smirk in the corner of his lips. Already, I regretted initiating this conversation and I found it difficult to discuss whilst still maintaining the casual attitude that I’d been insistent on since we started sleeping together.

“Are you jealous?” He suggested in a low growl and I scoffed in annoyance. “I did offer to train you, it’s not too late to switch classes. You can be my teacher’s pet.” He winked and I shook my head in disapproval at his continued teasing.

“No, I’m not jealous, you can do whatever you want. I’m just offering you some advice; let her down lightly so you don’t break a young girl's heart, take it or leave it.” I explained with a frustration that was evident as I shot to my feet and began to gather my things.

“It’s not like that.” He sighed in a defensive manner and I paused in place to glance at him with exasperation.

“I’m telling you as a woman what I saw in her, she wants it. You used to be excellent at recognising that. But whatever you say Bel.” I chuckled bitterly as I threw him one last look. “I’ll see you after your meeting.” I stated as I placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and left him rooted to the spot in confusion.

For a while, I managed to study in peace in the back of the mechanical building, until I was kicked out by people who needed to use the room. It was almost impossible to concentrate with the building frustration in my mind and I struggled to channel the feeling into anything beneficial. After several attempts to find something to distract myself, I received a message from Raven requesting my assistance with something.

“Hey! Octavia said you were trying to build muscle, right?” She spoke in a rushed way as she opened the door to allow me into her workshop and pulled me inside. I nodded hesitantly and she guided me to a metal structure that made absolutely no sense to me, beside the familiar Rover we’d just recovered. “Awesome, I have a proposal that will be mutually beneficial in that case. I need to install some upgrades but I can’t get around that easily with my bitch of a leg. Can you lift shit for me?” She asked and I noticed the slightest hint of vulnerability in her eyes. It was the first time that she had requested assistance with her injury from me and it felt strange to address the thing that we’d fallen into a routine of pretending hadn’t changed. I knew that admitting she needed help was practically agonising to Raven and felt honoured that she was able to confide in me.

“Of course, but you need to remember that I am, in fact, an idiot. So I’ll need very specific instructions on what you want me to do.” I remarked with a playful expression and was glad to notice that her shoulders visibly relaxed. We fell into an easy companionship as she worked whilst I strained to hold things in place and chatted in the same comfortable way that we always had.

“So, what do you think will come of this big leader meeting your man’s in?” She called from under the car and I sighed thoughtfully. I couldn’t imagine anything worse than sitting in a room full of self important people discussing every minor decision for our camp. It seemed simpler in the days at the dropship, where if something needed to be done we simply took action. I was unsure if the introduction of laws and politics was as beneficial as the leadership believed.

“I don’t know, bunch of political nonsense. I bet Bellamy’s struggling to even stay awake in there.” I commented lightly, imagining him dozing off at the end of the table and I heard Raven hum in agreement.

“Well, looks like he had some comfort before he went in.” She stated in a voice that I recognised well as bait and so I held my tongue. When I didn’t answer, she slid out from the car to examine me in annoyance. “I caught Mel flirting with him pretty hard outside the meeting room. She’s getting her claws right in.” She spat before she got to her feet and dusted herself off. The work space was so large that our voices echoed around it and I was glad that it was just the two of us here with the sharpness of her words.

“Ugh, that poor girl.” I groaned and Raven whipped around to face me as if I’d just grown another head. “I told him to let her down gently before she gets her feelings hurt.” I revealed as I rubbed my forehead in stress and she dropped into a seat to examine me with a riveted interest.

“And? What did he say?” She breathed with a fire burning in her eyes and I couldn’t help a slight snigger at the ridiculous reaction. Recently, it felt as if the budding romance between Bellamy and I was her favourite topic and although I appreciated her support, I couldn’t help finding her enthusiasm bizarre at times.

“He doesn’t think she’s flirting. He says she just looks up to him like the others, or she’s just friendly because she’s grateful to him.” I sighed as I settled into a seat opposite her and she threw her hands up in exaggeration. “I’ve never known him to be so blind to a girl's interest before.” I muttered with a groan and I tried to force the bitter feelings to the back of my mind before they could wander out of my mouth.

“That’s because he only has eyes for you.” She crooned in a mocking tone as she batted her lashes at me and I reached out to slap her playfully on the arm. “Doesn’t it bug you? Seriously, I’m worried. I know you were afraid before all this almost dying stuff, about him losing interest? I don’t want you to be pushed to the point of a nervous breakdown by this random chick.” She dropped her voice to one of genuine concern and I smiled warmly at her ill guided compassion. 

“Before everything went down, yes I was. But I already had my nervous breakdown Raven, I’m tapped. Seriously, thinking that you’ll never see someone again kind of changes your priorities.” I explained as she watched me with blatant sympathy. “The way I see it now, Bellamy will do whatever it is that he wants to do. If he wants to fuck some other girl, he’ll do it whether I worry about it or not, so I’m not gonna worry about it. I’m just gonna enjoy whatever we have for as long as it lasts, cause I don’t want to waste a single second of it.” I elaborated and she scoffed as she viewed me with a sense of utter disbelief.

“You’re telling me that you’re just switching your ‘give a shit’ off?” She breathed as she crossed her arms and I sighed as I tried to think of a better way to explain my stance. I shuffled on my seat and rubbed at my temples as she observed my expectantly.

“I’m not switching it off. It was only weeks ago that I thought he was dead and I spent almost all of my time crying.” I revealed and she softened her face. “I reflected a lot on everything I’d learned and I know that Bellamy is the kind of guy who likes the chase. From what I’ve seen, he’s not big on the whole commitment thing and I don’t need it. I’m all too aware that things can change in a heartbeat and honestly, I’m just happy every time that he comes back from a mission alive. I’m glad that I get the chance to see that smile that makes my knees go weak and my heart beat so fast that I think it might explode.” I confessed and Raven smiled smugly.

“Girl, you’ve got it bad!” She laughed and I felt as if I had opened a door that I couldn’t close. The relief of being honest with her was so addictive that the words just continued to flow out of my mouth and the memory of him and Mel talking filled my mind, causing a surge of bitterness.

“I know! God I know.” I breathed as I ran my hands through my hair in a gesture of stress. “Who am I kidding with this whole chilled out act? Part of me wants to find that girl and go full grounder on her ass, tell her that if she even thinks about touching Bellamy I’ll beat her face in.” I growled and Raven whooped in support of this idea. “On the inside, even thinking about him with anyone else kills me, but then I remember how fucking grateful I am that he’s alive and I realise that I’d suffer through anything if it meant that he was happy.” I clarified and she pursed her lips at me with enjoyment.

“I’m pretty confident that he feels the same.” She commented and although I noticed that she didn’t seem to be smiling directly at me, I was too deep in thought to question it. She opened her mouth to speak again but I couldn’t stop the flow of feelings that I needed to speak aloud.

“Maybe, I guess only time will tell. For now, all I know is that I can barely think straight every time he compliments me, or does that thing where he shakes his head and looks at the ground when he laughs. You know, I dream about him, his freckles, the way his eyes glisten when he smiles, or how he runs his hand through his hair when he’s concentrating. I thought that after a while things would calm down, but Raven, every kiss makes my head spin like the first.” I rambled in an emotion charged blur. She watched me with a steadily growing satisfaction as I bared my soul to her and I only paused to sigh. “I’m pretty prepared for the idea that he doesn��t feel the same way, but that's okay. Because if I can just keep him in my life for as long as humanly possible, I’m willing to accept that.” I divulged with a final deep breath as I dropped my shoulders dramatically and finally felt a sense of peace that I hadn’t realised I sorely needed.

“You know, I really think you’d be surprised by how wrong you are about that.” She stated calmly despite an excitement shining in her eyes and I furrowed my brows at her in confusion.

“How can you be so sure?” I enquired with a heavy feeling of insecurity and a delighted smile spread across her lips at my question.

“Oh, just the little fact that he’s standing right behind you and he looks like he’s just won the jackpot, not running for the hills.” She revealed with a blatant enjoyment and I felt my face drop to one of pure horror. I prayed with all of my might that she was simply playing a cruel prank. I was too mortified to turn around to investigate and before I could muster up the courage, I heard a deep voice clear their throat behind me. I felt like my stomach was about to drop out of my body as I closed my eyes in a grimace and heard Raven stand. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” She commented calmly.

I remained frozen on the spot with my eyes firmly closed in an effort to shield myself from the reality of my mistake and heard Bellamy carefully approaching to shatter the hopes of my ‘I can't see you, you can’t see me’ logic. There was a feeling of dread that crept down my spine as I sensed his gaze burning into me and I took a deep breath before forcing myself to look at him. His eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and exhilaration, and I gulped nervously whilst my mind desperately strained for something to say. I fiddled with the zip on my jacket and my skin burned with humiliation.

“H-how much of that did you hear?” I stuttered as I peeked at him and squirmed in anticipation. My words repeated in my mind and as I reviewed all the things that he’d potentially overhead that I would rather chop off a limb than say to him, I felt like my heart might stop.

“All of it.” He breathed with a sly smile and I felt my heart skip a beat as I groaned. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me and thought that I would give anything for the chance to take it all back. Terror flooded my veins at the idea that the blissful bubble we’d existed in until now could be about to burst and I steeled myself for the potential heartbreak.

“Is there...any chance that you can just forget that you heard any of it?” I suggested with shaking hands and he did the exact thing that I’d just proclaimed my love for: chuckled lightly as he shook his head and gradually returned his gaze to me with a smile that made my head spin. “Cool, perfect. Well, if you didn’t specifically need me for anything, I’m gonna go blow my brains out.” I remarked with my hands in my pockets and I avoided meeting his eyes as I moved to stride away. I only managed a single step before he caught my arm and pulled me back to face him.

“Indie, don’t worry about it, it’s okay.” He stated as he studied me with an inscrutable expression and I was stressed by the action of locking eyes with him. I sighed as I shuffled on the spot and he reached out to place his hands on my shoulders. I couldn’t tell if he did this more as an act of comfort, or to prevent me from bolting, or maybe a combination of both. “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me. Was all that true?” He probed as he examined my face and I nodded reluctantly. “Why didn’t you say something sooner if it was bothering you so much?” He interrogated and I shrugged avoidantly.

“I don’t know, it seemed dumb.” I grumbled as I tried to push aside the urge to escape. I cleared my throat and decided that if we were going to have this conversation, I may as well say what I needed. “Why weren’t you just honest about Knox?” I enquired and Bellamy shrugged in defeat. This relieved some of the tension in the air as we acknowledged that we’d both played a part in creating this situation with our ridiculous behaviours and for a moment I broke into a smile as I viewed him. 

“You know that you don’t have to worry about me with Mel, or anyone else, right?” He suggested as I fixed him with a baffled expression. “I don’t need anything else when I have everything I want with you.” He admitted with a genuine tone and I scoffed in disbelief. He took my face in his hands to force me to meet his eyes and I was surprised by the intensity of his gaze. “I’m serious. You’re beautiful, funny, smart. You give me advice when I need it and you keep me going. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He confessed and I stared back at him with wide eyes. “I know you had a hard time in Mount Weather, Love, but you’re forgetting that whilst you were there, I lost you too. You're not the only one who had a reality check. I’ve had plenty of time to think and finally getting you back has made me realise that I don’t ever want to lose you again, not to anything.” He paused to bite his lip and I noticed a hint of vulnerability that he tried to conceal. “You’re my girl, I don’t want anyone to question that anymore, especially not you.” He emphasised and I felt a smile breaking through my concern.

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Bellamy Blake?” I crooned with a warmth spreading in my chest as the reality of his words struck me. He tilted his head closer and I bit my lip with a rush of excitement.

“I’m not asking.” He drawled before he leaned in to finally kiss me. The moment that his lips touched mine, I felt a sense of relief and there was a peace that I had craved for longer than I had realised. Thanks to Raven’s gamble, I had security at last.

***

The tension that had been hanging over us completely dissipated over the past few weeks and although we’d been too busy to see much of each other, it didn’t cause any stress now that we knew where we stood. Bellamy had received a whole new batch of volunteers for the guard, which translated into far more frequent shifts for him with the recruits and my training with Octavia had ramped up a notch now that she was starting to see progress. Monty had somehow convinced Jasper to start taking some of his shifts back in mechanical, which was a relief as Monty was looking rather bedraggled recently. 

I’d used my new additional free time to either work on building muscle, or studying Trig. I was able to hold almost entire conversations in it now and although I still made the occasional mistake or found worlds that I hadn’t learned, I was proud of the new skill. It was a surprise to discover that Lincoln was slightly chattier in his native tongue and I’d come to appreciate our conversations more due to their infrequency. We bonded mostly over a joint protectiveness of Octavia, but I also enjoyed the quiet wisdom about him that I witnessed more now that he had moved into Arkadia. It was strange to see him living amongst us after our violent beginnings, but he seemed to be adapting well and fell into communicating with other campers far better than I ever would have expected. I was studying in the courtyard of camp, enjoying the cool spring sunshine when Monty rushed over.

“Hey Indie, have you seen Jasper?” He queried with blatant fear filling his face and something about his manner immediately put me on edge.

“No, I’m sorry.” I answered and he hissed in response. “I thought he was doing a shift today? Is everything okay?” I investigated as he shuffled on the spot with distress and I analysed him worriedly.

“He was, he didn’t turn up and I’ve only just heard. No one’s seen him all day and it’s been hours since he left dorms.” He confirmed with his brows deeply furrowed and I quickly got to my feet to assist.

“You want me to take this to Bel, get a search party out or are we keeping this on the down low?” I breathed as I felt his panic bleeding into me and my heart hammered in my chest.

“Let’s just keep it between us for now, I don’t want to get Jasper in trouble.” He muttered and I nodded obediently.

“Alright, let’s split up and meet back here if you can’t find him.” I suggested and we rushed apart in search of him.

I checked anywhere that I thought Jasper was likely to attend for fun first, in the vain hope that he may finally have felt like enjoying himself. When that failed, I had to acknowledge the painful thought that he may have gone somewhere quiet to harm himself and I felt an overpowering anxiety building in me as I searched the secluded areas where I thought it would be easiest to do this. I passed Monty in the mechanical building as we both seemed to have the same idea to investigate the unused rooms and abandoned corners. 

In one of the final rooms, I turned to leave when I noticed a boot out of the corner of my eye. I crouched down to examine it and discovered Jasper passed out under a table. I gasped as I neared him in terror and immediately checked for any sign of a pulse. An intense wave of relief washed over me as I confirmed that he was alive and I leaned closer to the door to call out.

“Monty! In here!” I cried, before returning to Jasper to pull him across my lap. I shook him until he responded as I became fearful that he could have overdosed and he groaned dramatically but didn’t seem to be able to wake. Monty stumbled into the room in a fluster and I smiled up at him. “I’ve got him.” I confirmed but Monty could clearly see the concern in my eyes as he glanced between me and Jasper, whose head flopped back in my arms.

“Ugh, he’s tanked.” Monty stated and as I turned to view him doubtfully, I noticed the empty flask further under the desk. “I’d recognise that look on him anywhere. Damn it, Jasper.” He growled with an evident frustration and I sighed in disappointment as I scooped up the evidence to hide in my pocket. “Can you help me get him back to dorms?” Monty asked with an embarrassed expression and I nodded in understanding.

“Of course, my love.” I answered as I got to my feet and we managed to hoist him between us with difficulty. He was barely conscious enough to manage to walk with some stern encouragement and his arms over our shoulders to keep him upright.

“You’re a mess, dude.” Monty scolded, but Jasper only managed an offended groan in response. Monty rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry about this Indie.” He mumbled awkwardly.

“Hey, it’s fine. Family isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, right?” I smiled encouragingly at him and he made his best effort to return it. 

[motleymoose]

Homecoming: Astray, Ch. 2

Chapter 2

Laserfights in the Dust

Fandom: The Mandalorian Characters: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin), Gender-neutral Reader, Unidentified Stormtroopers Words: 1.6k+ Warnings: Laser fights!, Angst???

Summary:

The bounty hunter may have caught me.

That's it. I'm caught and screwed and nothing could make this worse.

...Unless Stormtroopers are thrown into the mix.

Notes:

Heyo! Just an update:

I've several chapters in the works of being tweaked and edited. On that note, I just want to warn you that I'll be editing the first chapter of this part because holy moley I did NOT do the editing I thought I did before I posted it.

Hope you enjoy this installment of Homecoming. Check back this weekend for the last chapter of part 1!

Thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to read my words. I really really appreciate it!!!

Homecoming Masterlist

The Mandalorian’s ship was of an older gunner class, bulbous and clunky in all the wrong places. I immediately took a shine to it.

“Mother of Moons,” I breathed, drinking in the sight of the Razor Crest. The ship was ancient compared to its neighbors moored in the docking field, her dark gray hull splattered with pocks and burns from laser fire, and carbon residue dulled the once-bright metal. Amazed that she could still fly, I considered the costs and labor associated with keeping something like her up in the air. The bounty hunter must’ve employed a fragging good blackthumb, or at the very least had a mech droid to keep up with all the repairs the ship constantly would need. My fingers itched to caress the control panels and explore the access hubs. Engineering alone would’ve been something to behold.

I was a mechanic through-and-through.

My captor’s gait changed the closer we got to his ship. Weaving in and out of the stacks of crates and barrels awaiting transport into the village, I noted the speeders parked in the path we were taking, not too far away from the Crest. Before I could have a closer look, gloved fingers dug into the tender meat at my shoulder.

“Yours?” he snapped, blaster humming to life and jammed into my kidney.

I shook my head. “I don’t have anyone willing to risk their neck to rescue me. Whoever that is,” I discreetly waggled my eyebrows in the direction of the speedbikes, “probably wants me dead more than you do.”

The pistol’s barrel eased from my back, and I released the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. He accepted the answer I’d given, which was a first in my dealings with bounty hunters. I doubted greatly that he trusted me, but maybe a mutual respect was building in the hour we’d known each other.

With his hand between my shoulder blades, the bounty hunter urged me forward out of the relative safety of the unloaded cargo. I assumed we’d wait out whoever was waiting for us, but apparently the Mandalorian liked to act before he thought.

Shoving hard, the bounty hunter knocked me to my stomach, bound hands barely breaking my fall. Wheezing, I rolled onto my hip to snarl at him just as he raised his blaster and fired over my fragging head.

“Frag!” I screamed unheroically. I automatically flattened in the dust, cuffed hands over my head. Laser beams sliced through the air above me, some coming low enough to singe my hair. Letting instincts take over, I crawled on elbows and knees until I made it under the belly of the Crest. White armored legs dashed by my hiding spot, and I shrunk farther under the ship’s hefty bulk. Even with the Empire collapsed, there were still loyal factions spanning the known galaxy. I wasn’t too surprised at their arrival, only that the Imps still had enough credits to outfit their armies.

I tore my eyes away from the gunfight to look for an escape. Near the landing gear, a square hatch barely large enough to warrant much thought caught my racing mind. Pulling myself into a crouch, I shuffled over to it, using my little dagger to persuade it to open. A few frantic, scrabbling moments later, and I pulled myself up into the crawl space and snapped the panel shut behind me.

Inside the crawl space - no, access shaft, I shimmied on my belly towards the only source of light.

“Please be an access panel, please be an access panel…”

It was not an access panel.

The light was streaming weakly through a rectangular vent in the floor of what must have been the hold, the streaky dark and bright causing my eyes to swim. Turning onto my back, I took a moment to blink, forcing my eyes to adjust to the dim light. When I looked back through the vent grate, I saw a face peering back down at me.

“Oh frag!” I shrieked, dodging clumsily out of the light.

No sound or shouts of alarm followed, and I sucked in my breath and scootched back to the vent.

“Oh. You’re not what I expected.”

Above me lay a slab of carbonite. Inside the carbonite was a face twisted in pain and horror, hands bound in much the same way as mine. Every detail of the being frozen in time was on display, if I wanted to hang around and eyeball her some more. Was the Mandalorian going to do that to me?

Gulping nervously, I turned back to my belly and continued my slow crawl through the carbon dust and wires that lined the access tunnel in equal parts. I strained my eyes as best as I could, feeling them water and sting from the dust my movements stirred up. I couldn’t make out much of anything in the unlit space, but I didn’t want to light a flame in the off-chance the bounty hunter was carrying more than just frozen carbonite. I was going to have to use my other senses to find the crawl hatch into the hold. From there, freedom.

A rustle near my boots startled me out of the vague plan I was beginning to form about escaping. Looking over my shoulder, I could see nothing beyond the little square of light falling from the vent.

“Bugs. Probably just bugs,” I murmured to myself, not at all reassured by the waver in my tone. Exhaling softly, I continued forward.

I didn’t know how much time had passed since I’d entered the ship, but from the sounds happening, or worse yet, not happening outside, it was safe to assume the fight was over and to the victors went the spoils.

But who the victors were was still up for debate.

Urgently, I pushed through a particularly nasty tangle of wiring. Thick and winding and of all colors and sizes, some of the wires looked brand new while others were completely fried. A faint wisp of electrical smoke drifted lazily from a deep, melted gash severing a bundle that looked to be -

“The energy cycler wiring. Shit.” Quickly, I assessed the damage. The cut didn’t seem to go too deep, only about a quarter of the way through the wiring. I didn’t have the tools needed to make a decent repair job, but if I did nothing, the Razor Crest would strand anyone aboard her once the energy cycler ran dry. Which could be anytime as the damage looked like an older wound and I had no way of telling how much power was left in the containment systems.

Rolling onto my side, I awkwardly began to dig out what I had in my jumpsuit pockets that might help. Most of a roll of electotape; collapsible screwdriver base and tip case; handful of assorted plastic ties; hose clamps in various states of rust; thin, carefully folded sheets of aluminum foil; and my prized possession: customized multitool.

Feeling surprisingly lighter after emptying my pockets, I ordered my tools into a neat pile and got to work on the smoking wiring. I made sure to match every split wire with its original end. Using the foil, I connected the loose wires before taping over them with the stretchy black eletotape. Whenever the plastic coating proved to be in the way, I used the sharp cutter edge of my multitool to scrape it away and expose the damaged wiring, thus making it easier to reconnect. The plastic ties and hose clamps, the latter of the hardware being tightened with my collapsible screwdriver, were used to sort and organize the larger bundle into smaller, neater groups.

As I worked, sounds of rustling and rifling interspersed with tiny squeaks and sneezes floated through the air not that far from the soles of my boots. I forced myself to ignore it, hoping that whatever it was would stay well away from me until I was done repairing the wiring harness. I didn’t want to waste time fighting pests when my services could be better used fixing mechanical things.

Another sneeze, a delighted trill, and then the patter of small feet scurrying away alerted me that I was now, hopefully, alone. Tightening one last plastic strap with my teeth, I swiped my forehead with the back of a sooty hand and gazed proudly at my handiwork. Dang, I was good at cobbling together repairs.

A whirring clank shook the metal underneath me, and I jolted straight up, clunking my head painfully against the subflooring. Rubbing at the throbbing lump forming on the top of my head, I cursed myself silently and held my breath, listening.

Heavy boots thudded hollowly above me. Another clanking whir covered up most of the stream of Mando’a being growled above me, and I knew that the bounty hunter had won.

Frag.

Quietly as I could, I untangled myself from the wiring and inched away from the sounds of mumbling and stomping. I’d stowed away before, a long time ago, on a colonizing ship stopping on my backwater planet for refuelling and supplies.

But those had been farmers seeking a better life for themselves, not a warrior from a people more legend than truth, hunting me down for a bounty. I was in deeper kung than I wanted to admit.

The sounds of cursing and stomping disappeared, possibly to another deck, and I let out a heavy, relieved sigh. I didn’t have much time to plan before he ultimately found me, so I needed to come up with something that wasn’t going to get me killed, or worse - frozen in carbonite.

[flymetothejoon]

masked (m)

pairing: drummer!jungkook x reader genre: smut, angst, hidden identity  warnings: alcohol use, sexual content, foul language, adult themes, mentions of death, dirty talk, public sex, fingering word count: ~8k description: Silver Tooth is a local rock band that is becoming so mainstream that seeing them live is almost impossible. It isn't until your friend scores a new position as a guitarist that you find yourself indulging in the craze. Although their songs are catchy, Silver Tooth's popularity is attributed to one main factor— their mysterious and dangerous masked drummer.

...................................................

Standing in a long line outside a sleazy bar was definitely not your idea of an ideal Friday night, but when your friend finally catches some type of break after landing a guitar position in the infamous band Silver Tooth, it became a priority to come out and support him.

You can't help a scoff of distaste from leaving your lips as a drink spills onto your sneakers. You mumble quietly to yourself and shake out your foot, only to step back down into a foaming puddle of dirt and alcohol. You can barely see the damage that was done from how dark and misty the air is. Your best friend, Fia, erupts in laughter at the altercation, but you sigh to yourself.

You weren't fond of the night life in your town, and as much as you hated to admit it, you wanted to enjoy it. You were tired of hearing all the rave reviews and stories from peers about how much fun seeing Silver Tooth play live was. You had to push aside the rumors and your fear to get here.

"I thought the whole point of him being in the band was that we wouldn't have to do this," you complain, gesturing to the chaotic line.

It has been nearly an hour of waiting in this beer infested swamp of an alleyway. You'd think that after many months of Silver Tooth's growing popularity that the employees at The Waypoint would figure out how to work by now. You grimace as the smell of weed and garbage engulf your senses.

Fia is quick in a defense. "I already told you that we can't go backstage because of him."

"Because of Slash?" you ask for clarification.

Slash is their drummer. He's well known because no one knows who he is; he conceals his identity using a skull mask and a stage name. You've only ever seen pictures of him— or his body, rather— in the articles online. He's the main reason why you are apprehensive about coming out tonight.

Fia nods, "we can't see who he is."

Even without knowing who he is, publicized medias have made it their mission to tell the general public; newspapers have plastered everything and anything about Silver Tooth in the entertainment section. The mystery behind the mask has enticed their audience. The newspapers portray Slash as being dangerous and horrific, and the rumors surrounding him serve as a testament to his danger. It brings an unwelcoming feeling to the pit of your stomach. Slash is mentioned in all rumors regarding disappearances, murders and shady business.

"...shouldn't we be worried for Hoseok?" you question her. Your friend is now assumed to be in the lion's den with this guy. He's been practicing nonstop with the band for the past few weeks.

"No," Fia rolls her eyes. "I'm sure those stories are just for publicity."

"They could be true," you mumble.

There's something eery and unsettling about the atmosphere surrounding the band. This is obvious just by the look of their venue choice; The Waypoint is the grimiest bar, yet it is the only place Silver Tooth ever conducts their shows. It's a pity, really. That's why it's almost impossible to get a ticket— the bar is compact and located in a bad part of town.

You can't tell if it's excitement or nervousness that you feel when the line starts to move into the bar. Your throat feels dry and the preconceived attitude towards tonight has started to eat at your insides. You follow behind Fia in conscious steps after you present your ticket to the bouncer. A bright green band is slapped around your wrist, indicating your admittance to the afterparty.

Immediately you're welcomed by dim lighting and a crowd that pans towards the small stage at the back of the bar. You don't realize you're clenching your first on the back of Fia's shirt until she turns around to look at you.

"Relax," she chuckles. "Just wait until you see Slash play."

"You've come here before?" you gape with wide eyes.

It's then that your body is jostled forward by the influx of people coming in behind you. Both you and Fia are pushed along with the rest of the crowd, and it's as if no one cares about getting a drink as they fight for a spot closest to the stage. Fia is one of those people, pulling you along with her to evade the other Silver Tooth fans. You stumble over your own feet a couple of times before catching your breath.

Fia looks at you, and you force a smile to assure her you're okay. You aren't. You are already standing in another puddle of alcohol and chips; the sensation of crumbling food is enough to make you want to go home. People continue to shove you forward even though there is no where to go. Your thighs are scraping against the edge of the stage.

"Murder me, Slash!" a girl screams during the momentary silence.

Everyone in the crowd erupts in cheers. You can't believe it, eyes wide again because the people around you reference his murdering accusations so lightly. It doesn't comfort you at all; they're fans. They don't want to believe it. But you do.

"He's everyone's favorite," Fia tells you, presumably reading your expression. Her voice gets muffled slightly from the chatter around you.

You lighten your own mood by saying, "maybe Hoseok will change that."

The two of you start laughing at the thought of your mutual friend. Hoseok has been passionate about guitar ever since he was young. Given the breakout success of Silver Tooth, you were proud of him for chasing after his dream; however, you still worried that the reputation following the band would affect him. You worried that the reasons there was an opening for him would result in the same demise. The only thing you could hope for tonight is that somehow your mind would be changed.

Your heart jumps when the sound of a fumbling microphone fills the air. The speakers are too big for the tiny space, and the sound echoing from the sound system causes you to flinch each time a tap is made at the microphone. The crowd is restless and rowdy; they cheer for almost everything.

"Who's ready for a show?" the man on the stage asks with great enthusiasm. His voice blares into your ears through the microphone. The feeling of bodies behind you has yet to stop, and only gets worse as the crowd erupts into more loud screams.

You're squinting at the MC until you realize that you know who he is— Siwon. He is the owner of this shit-hole that you're standing in. He's partially responsible for why you will probably have to buy new sneakers after tonight. 

"It is my honor to present to you a band that feels like they could be my sons," he says. "Their loyalty to only playing at The Waypoint has continued through all of their success. I am so proud to manage these dickheads."

The crowd enjoys everything this man says. Fia glances at you with a knowing expression. She leans into your ear. "He was the first person to let them play in public. They haven't left since."

"Humble of them," you remark sarcastically.

This man is only here to appease the horrifying rumors about Silver Tooth and touch some heartstrings.

"Have an open mind," she nudges you. You glance at her touch and notice the flask she is offering.

"I didn't realize you were such a fangirl," you joke, but there's truth in that. You had no idea Fia found guilty pleasure in standing in a sweaty, head banging mosh-pit.

You exhale and shrug to yourself before backing down a large sip of the stinging liquid from the flask. It burns the back of your throat, but nothing could hurt less than your dignity at the moment. The alcohol is wet against your lips when the cold metal leaves your mouth, and Fia doesn't waste a moment to do the same.

You smile at each other as the low sound of guitar starts humming throughout the air.

Surprisingly, no one in the crowd cheers. All is silent besides the strumming guitar. The lights have turned an icy blue, and seemingly from the shadows of the stage walks out the lead guitarist. You don't know his name. You glance behind you at the crowd, but no one is moving. The blue hues of light have cascaded down on each stranger's face, but their facial expressions almost look hypnotized. For a moment you feel as though that could be canon, but suddenly the guitar starts to pick up slightly and everyone puts their hands in the air.

Looking back at the stage, it's as if it is a one man show. The guy's fingertips are moving so fast yet so slow on each string of the guitar. You are intrigued by his skill, and the melody is addicting as well. Your heart is racing along with the building tempo of the music. It's then that another guitar joins with a large, dominant strum of one of the chords. It's Hoseok.

"Oh my God!" Fia gasps, only glancing at you for a moment to not miss anything.

The two guitarists appear to be riffing against each other. There are still no cheers from the crowd; you feel like you're missing out on an inside fandom ritual. The music is filling every inch of the place, not sharing with any other sounds. You catch your jaw agape before snapping out of the intense haze. The calmness doesn't last for long.

The lights suddenly turn a crimson red simultaneously as a loud bang of the drums erupts. The spotlight is on him. The crowd goes wild with shouts and cheers.

Oxygen evades your pores and you hitch a breath from the back of your throat. You're scared to swallow or move; chills rack up from your spine but you force yourself to stare. Slash has made his appearance merely five feet from you, and you can't seem to grasp the touch of reality for a moment as your eyes first lay on him. You feel scared, in some deep rooted, bedtime nightmare sort of way. The presence of the dark and ghostly features of the skull mask have presented themselves as a trigger for your fears. It excites you.

Silver Tooth's main vocalist has finally appeared, and once his mouth opens to start the lyrics of the song, the crowd is jumping up and down with wild hands and yells. You can't stop staring at Slash; his arm muscles are already glistening in sweat as they work seamlessly to guide the two drumsticks. His masked head is nodding as he plays— it looks effortless.

"Come on!" Fia tugs on your arms to get you to jump along with her.

You can't help but do it. The music is better than you expected from an underground band like them; your body starts to jump to the beat, and your hands are in the air before you can stop yourself. Alcohol is partly to blame for your excitement, but the band is still impressive nonetheless.

You feel guilty for not watching Hoseok, but your eyes are trapped in a Slash fantasy world. Every inch of his exposed body has got you hooked. Knowing there is a boundary between you two has given you much needed relief.

It's the last song on the setlist and you're soaked in sweat before you know it. You can feel the strands of hair sticking to your neck, but the chaotic and crowded atmosphere that you hated in the beginning has now fueled you to keep going.

The crowd is chanting the words to the song, and one part in particular causes the whole bar to get involved. Slash then stands up from his drum set.

"What's going on?" you look at Fia worriedly.

"It's just a thing he does," she assures you nonchalantly.

You're terrified as the masked ghost makes his way to the edge of the stage. The guitar is still going on without him, but his covered eyes are now searching the crowd with his arm extended out. Your eyes can't help but travel downward to critique the rest of his body. You're mentally having a panic attack at the sight of his muscular physique— now especially including his thighs. Fitted in a white sleeveless tee and tight, leather looking pants, he has gotten you more worked up than you want to admit.

"Me!" shouts begin from the strangers beside you in the pit.

Me? What are they volunteering for?

You lose your breath again when he jumps down into the pit. Surprisingly, no one rushes at him. Everyone in the crowd moves aside for him to walk freely. Your eyebrows raise in shock at the fact that Slash is now walking just beside you. You back away into the people behind you in fear of him singling you out. There is a looming sense of fear plaguing everyone in the crowd. They feed off of it.

"Murder me!" the girl from earlier yells again.

It's a bizarre feeling to watch someone's expressions when they have no facial features. You're forced to examine his body language, and from the sound of the girl's words, he tenses only for a moment before figuring out where to go next. You're holding your breath as you watch him; various people are leaning over others just to touch his shoulder lightly, and others are trying to get him in the background of their selfie. You are standing in shock still— just staring. Each time Slash turns to a different section of the crowd, the people flinch back slightly.

Slash hands a girl across the room his drumstick. The moment he releases the object, she collapses into her friend's arms. Slash doesn't notice, however, because he has already climbed back on the stage to jump around with the rest of the band as the song comes to an end.

"He must go through a lot of drumsticks..." you trail to Fia with a dry throat.

"I wanna fuck myself with his drumstick," she replies vulgarly in a drunken slur. You giggle along with her insanity.

You feel breathless when the setlist ends and the lights go out on stage. Fia's hand is in the air to get Hoseok's attention, and he gives a happy nod at the two of you when he sees her.

Your eyes fall to Slash; his outline is just enough to see him through the darkness. You wait patiently, wanting to catch him taking off his mask, but of course, he doesn't. He is spinning the one drumstick in his hand as he walks off the stage along with Hoseok, the lead singer, and the lead guitarist.

And that's that: your first eye-witness account of Silver Tooth. You don't know whether it's the alcohol or the experience that has made you feel so happy.

"What did you think?" Fia asks you. You can barely understand her slurring mess of pronunciation.

The performance was enough to distract you from your ruined shoes, so you reply, "I liked it."

The crowd is already funneling out. The stage crew has begun to dismember the equipment to make room for the DJ, and when you check the time, it's close to one a.m. The two of you make your way near the bar. You're relieved to lean against a table and catch a breath. There is already a small group of people ordering drinks at the bar, all wearing afterparty wristbands like you and Fia. They must be friends of the band members.

Fia is stumbling over herself to sit on a stool. "I can't even remember what my last name is."

"What?"

"I drank... way... too much," she mumbles. "Anywho, what'd you think of Slash?"

Her insinuating tone of voice and small nudge towards you makes you roll your eyes. The pulsing alcohol in your body isn't enough to make you forget how terrified you were of watching him. It was a weird feeling.

"The mask is terrifying," you admit your thoughts in a slow response. Your words are turning to mush and you can barely get your thoughts in order.

"Apparently he doesn't take the mask off even in the bedroom," she giggles, "if you know what I mean."

"If he's pulling girls with a fucking mask on, then what am I doing wrong?" Hoseok interjects with a bright smile.

Fia's drunken emotions cause her to show a big reaction at the sight of Hoseok. She cheers as if he has just won something, clapping at him with a large smile.

"You were amazing!" she exclaims. "I didn't even notice that Yoongi was missing."

You shift uncomfortably in your seat at the mention of the disappearance. It bothers you that everyone, including your best friend, is acting like this dark cloud following Silver Tooth is something to just be brushed aside. It isn't the matter of just someone going missing— it was that it was someone in your town. You could be next.

"What's wrong?" Hoseok notices your drop in expression.

"Noth—"

Fia interrupts you, "she's worried Slash is going to murder you."

"What the fuck?" Hoseok chuckles.

Your influenced mind has gotten the best of you. "You know what? Yeah, I'm concerned. He scares me."

"It's just a mask—"

"Is it true that he has a bunch of scars and shit underneath it?" Fia interjects.

You huff, "probably from his victims trying to escape him."

It can't be a coincidence that the news reported a skull mask at the place where the old guitarist had been last seen. Unfortunately Slash has never been convicted; anyone can put on a skull mask. You wish you knew more about the mysterious guy. With the distance between him and what you know about him, it made you fearful. You wish it made Fia fearful too.

"Don’t listen to the media," Hoseok scoffs playfully.

"Bad things happen all over town because of him! People getting robbed, beaten, murdered."

"Not because of Slash!" he defends.

Your drunken hand flies up in an exasperating gesture, "how do you know for sure?"

"Careful," an unfamiliar voice interrupts the conversation. "He can probably hear you."

Your heart drops for a moment at the joking stranger. When you look over towards the voice, relief still doesn't rush in; walking towards you is the main vocalist and guitarist— everyone except Slash has made their appearance. It's incredible how attractive each member of this band is. They join you at the table.

"Who the hell cares what he's done anyway. Have you seen his body?" Fia raises her eyebrows.

You can't help but laugh stupidly at your friend's comments. Finding amusement in her total disregard for her well-being is easier than worrying. You're trying to enjoy the night, just as you told yourself before getting here. It's difficult.

"You're not going to introduce us?" the lead guitarist says to Hoseok.

"Oh," he laughs. "Right. Namjoon and Jimin, this is ___ and Fia."

"You should bring them around every week," the singer, Jimin, says slyly. With his dark hair pushed back, and his lean body being exposed through a half buttoned down tucked shirt into jeans, you can't help but blush from his remark. He leans his elbows down on the table in front of you.

Your cheeks heat and you glance away awkwardly to hide your expression.

"Amazing set, guys. Really. I'm a huge fan," Fia compliments them. "And those clothes. I love the tight fitted pants. Especially on Slash."

"You can thank Taehyung for that," Hoseok replies.

"Slash isn't the party type?" you ask. The curiosity has gotten the best of you.

The band members are silent for a moment too long after your question. It isn't until the guitarist, Namjoon, clears his throat with a semi-panicked yet calm response that the silence ends.

"He doesn't come to these things," he says.

Jimin adds with a smirk, "he's too busy finding his next target."

Is he joking? Wide eyes and a panicked feeling overcome you after Jimin's words.

"Who?" a stranger asks.

Everyone at the table looks up. Approaching is yet another pair of men, only this time you have never seen them before.

The one who interjected himself into the conversation is carrying a bunch of drinks over from the bar. Jimin's smile grows and he raises his hands in praise.

"Finally, Jin! I need a fucking drink," he cheers.

The man you only assume to be Jin places the drinks down to the table. His accomplice is quiet and doesn't say anything when he takes a seat across from you. The unnamed man's demeanor is dark and reserved, yet his glinted rounded eyes are somewhat innocent and kind. He has his bottom lip tugged under his teeth, clearly detached from the table of people. His dark hair frames over his face, and intense eyebrows are knitted tightly as he palms a shot glass. You look away quickly when his eyes catch yours. Your heart is racing.

"We were talking about Slash," Fia answers Jin's prior question. You can't help but feel as though the air has gotten tense. Your eyes flick to Jin.

"Ah," he nods. "Don't know him. I'm just the sound guy."

His dismissive response doesn't sit well with you. Jin can't possibly be trying to play it off as if he doesn't know Slash's identity. He was just backstage for the entirety of the night.

"Surely it gets a little hot under that mask," you say.

Jimin starts chuckling after throwing back a shot, "it might be ventilated."

"That piece of shit mask is, like, from the dollar store," Namjoon says and the entirety of the table erupts in a fit of laughter.

You cross your legs, taking a shot from the table and downing it quickly to calm your growing nerves. You don't know why the idea of Slash has made you scared, but you surely can blame the dim lighting and funky smell of the bar for heightening the feeling. Your alcohol influenced mind makes it feel as though you could be on the set of a horror movie. There's an anxious sensation at the end of your nerves.

"We should chill with the jokes," Fia wraps her arm around you and you flinch in surprise. Her drunk arm is like deadweight on your shoulders. "This one here is frightened of your drummer."

You grow timid at everyone's eyes on you. The image of Slash standing so close to you at the edge of the stage is replaying in your head; his built body and intimidating presence is making your skin crawl. You can't help but wonder if the fear has excited you more than frightened you. What has happened to fear protecting you from danger? Why are you more intrigued now that you've entered this infamous lion's den?

You blink from your thoughts, only to make eye contact with the man sitting across from you. His expression is composed and unaltered; it almost appears that a smirk is going to spread to his lips, but your breath staggers when a voice disrupts and you're forced to spare your attention.

"He's a quiet guy," Jimin assures you. "Wouldn't take him for the aggressive type."

"Not even in bed?" Fia leans forward in a soft, drunken purr, almost whispering at Jimin. "Is it true he fucks with his mask on?"

"Why? You into that?" Jimin matches her tone.

The two of them are leaning into each other and everyone is watching them as their lips meet hungrily. You roll your eyes at the two of them with a laugh. Leave it to Fia to find someone with the same twisted fantasy mind as her.

"I would take him for the aggressive type," Jin widens his eyes. The conversation has continued without your best friend and her new fling.

"You would?" Namjoon questions.

"Yeah," Jin nods. "He can break his drumsticks in just one hand."

"He must be practicing for when he does it to people's fingers," Namjoon chuckles before another shot is thrown back.

The one unannounced member of the small group has now decided to get up. He stands silently, almost going unnoticed until you catch a glimpse of his absence from the corner of your eye. He hasn't said a word all night, and now he is quietly maneuvering his way over to the bar. When you look down at all the empty glasses on the table, you decide that drinking water would be your best option. You stand.

"You want anything?" you ask Hoseok before departing.

Hoseok glances at the bar in thought. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly before he turns to look at you; a subtle look has marked his features but he just shrugs with a shake of his head.

"No," is all he says.

The music almost feels louder as you make your way over to the bar. With ease you are able to get yourself there, proving the "time heals" narrative true as the alcohol is finally starting not to absolutely overtake every decision you make. You lean your body against the counter, almost brushing against the unspoken stranger from earlier. He has taken a seat, sitting alone and in his own silence away from everyone else. You can feel his eyes on you as yours chase after the bartender.

"You're staring at me," you bravely say. You don't look at him as you sit down.

A scoff leaves his lips and you're forced to face him. A low chuckle hums from his chest. "Does that scare you?" He asks; he is clearly mocking your expressed fear from the conversation earlier.

Thinking back to the chilling articles and your friend's safety has aroused your paranoia again. You have to admit that alcohol has made you a bit over the top in your feelings. Small worries have now become legitimate fears.

"N-No," you stutter.

"I've never seen you here before," he says lowly.

Your eyes can't help but scan his face. He has a beautiful structured jaw, and every slight movement made with his eyebrows and mouth seem hard and striking, yet he still somehow manages to give a soft and charming aura. His almond eyes are dark and rounded, staring at you mercilessly. It's intimidating, and you swallow hard at how attentive he is towards you. He looks fake; an illusion of perfection.

"...you remember everyone?"

He exhales. "I'd remember you."

The comment strikes a part of you that had been dormant until now; his voice is so smooth and captivating much like his overall presence. Heat spreads to your fingertips and chills send down your spine. The sensation is enough to make you nervously bite on your lip. A breathy laugh escapes you to mask your easy reaction.

"It's my first time seeing Silver Tooth," you say shyly. "I-I'm friends with Hoseok... the new guitarist."

"Just friends?"

You clear your throat at the unwelcoming thoughts now evading your subconscious. The bartender finally decides to pay mind to you, and you're thankful for the distraction as you order a glass of water. You need it. You're starting to feel hot from this sensual, timid conversation that is brewing with this stranger.

He must sense your apprehensiveness, cutting the tension by introducing himself. "I'm Jungkook. I'm just the sound guy."

A smile spreads to your lips at his referral to Jin's introduction.

"___," you tell him. "Just the friend."

"Not a fan?" he questions.

"To be honest, I was actually scared to come tonight," you admit. "I've read so many things about Slash... and it really influenced my opinion."

Jungkook's expression is masked. He doesn't allow his facial features to give away what he's thinking. "But?"

"The music was great," you nod. The cold water feels like a breath of fresh air as it hits your tongue compared to the stuffiness of the atmosphere in the bar. You've probably inhaled enough grime and soot to kill you.

"And what about Slash?"

His question fades into the background of your attention as he leans slightly into you. His broad shoulders are enough to relish at as it is, but now he is showing physical interest when he leans his arm on the bar. Your thighs tighten in an involuntary attempt to convince yourself you're not into him.

You blink. "Hm?"

"Slash," he repeats. The drummer's stage name leaves his lips like a word that shouldn't be spoken. "Still scared of him?"

His question slices at your nerves. Jungkook's eyebrow is cocked at you, and you can tell he is finding slight amusement from teasing you about their masked drummer. Thoughts about the mysterious man have gotten you intrigued again. The same intimidated rush of feeling you experienced when he jumped down into the crowd has returned and your pulse is evidence of that.

"Yes," you breathe.

"But you liked it, hm?"

"I-I was very impressed," you reveal. "The way he plays... I couldn't stop staring. I respect that he works so hard against... adversity."

Jungkook himself looks impressed by your answer. He is frozen for a moment before his hand is on your thigh; his eyes are attentive to your reaction. You lick your lips and shy away from his gaze for a moment to stop yourself from audibly responding to his touch, clenching your thighs from the unwanted sensation that has sparked in-between them. Your skirt seems like a weak defense at the moment, but you aren't sure if you want to be defensive.

His words are breathy and you're falling deeper as he continues to speak. "You'd come back just to see him?"

His fingertips are cold against your heated skin. They move only slightly when you shift in the seat, and you can't stop your breath from hitching at how immensely turned on this guy is making you. You've never felt so swayed by a stranger before— you wanted him. He has something about him that is too hard to resist.

"Yes," you reluctantly agree. "Only when I'm not thinking about being tied up and abducted."

Your attempt at a light joke causes Jungkook's touch at your thigh to become a bit more rough. You shouldn't feel excitement, but you do. He is so tempting.

"That's a shame," he whispers. You find yourself leaning in more to hear him, "tying you up is something I'd very much want to do."

Your mouth falls agape at the words. Suddenly it feels as though his touch his everywhere, and every inch of your body has now ignited in a cold sweat and plethora of ecstasy. His hand at the bar has now clasped the one you had on the counter. His touch is so delicate, a slow burn of sensation that starts at your fingertips and ends with your dampening underwear. You're biting your lip to control yourself.

"You're fearful, but I know you'd want to," he whispers. You're frozen at the close proximity of his face. He smells of fresh cologne. It's almost like he has just showered.

"You do this every week to a new girl?"

A smile pulls at the corner of his lips after your question. Your eyes narrow to peer down at them; they look so plump and soft. You're tempted just to lean in, given he would probably want that, but you don't. You don't want to let go of this anxious feeling— the anticipation for what could happen.

"No," Jungkook replies. For some reason you believe him. "Only ones that follow me around and then accuse me of staring."

His words are filled with slight amusement, but the way he is staring at you gives you an intense feeling. He is very good at making you feel noticed; even the way his stare dances back and forth between your lips and eyes as you speak gives you butterflies in your stomach.

"I was curious," you tell him.

"You're curious about a lot of things," he notes. "Curious about me... curious about Silver Tooth... curious about... Slash. Yet, you still showed up."

"Your point?" you raise your eyebrows at the insinuator.

"You're not scared," he concludes. "Scared people don't involve themselves."

"You're right," you play along with him.

You have a feeling that this will all just end in some smooth pick-up line. Your smirk grows and you place your hand over his on your thigh. He seems surprised but controls his reaction. With a gentle sigh and a knowing look at him, you press your lips to his ear.

"Maybe I do want to get tied up," you tighten your hold around his hand as you speak, bringing it higher and against your inner thigh. He doesn't waste a moment to expand his palm and grip your skin in his hold roughly. The material of your skirt hitches upwards.

"Be careful what you wish for," he warns.

His tone of voice seems much too serious for your playful one, but the goosebumps on your skin aren't prejudice. He is affecting you with every sensation.

Your thighs close around his hand and he shifts in his stool to place his knee between them, prohibiting you from closing your legs. Your eyes awkwardly look back to the group of people you left, only to realize that no one is paying attention to you. You are alone with this new man, fooling around at the bar. You don't typically do this with people you just meet, but Jungkook is an exception. He is doing all the right things.

"I'll do it here, I don't give a fuck," he grumbles against your skin. His hand slides further up towards your heated core and you gasp when you feel his fingers against your underwear.

Your eyes go wide and you push at his chest lightly to stop him. His hand freezes in place and you fight the urge to squirm. If you move, you will only excite yourself more. You didn't think your teasing would lead to him wanting to do it right here.

"No?" he frowns.

"No," you breathe. "Not here. I'm not like that."

He chuckles. "Not like what?"

"Easy."

Jungkook shakes his head at you. His small breath fans your face as he replies, "I'm finding it hard to get you to play along with me, baby."

The endearing title falls from his lips and your throat dries. You shouldn't be falling into his spell so easily, but it's impossible to fight it. By the looks of the way his eyes can't leave you, it appears that both of you have entered a trance that is impenetrable.

"You want me to play along?"

"Ah," he realizes. "You want me to beg? I will. I've wanted to sink my fingers into your aching pussy since the moment you looked at me."

You're searching for air, but you can't find any. Your cheeks heat at his vulgar language and your body reacts before your mind can, hips moving forward against his hand. Jungkook releases a sharp breath of pleasure when he realizes what you're doing. Your chests are touching as he uses his body to shield others in the room from seeing what his hand is doing to you.

His strong grip pulls your stool closer to him. Your mouth falls open, and you bite on your finger to stop a moan after feeling him press against your throbbing clit. Jungkook's fingers slide into your underwear seamlessly, exposing your wetness to his every touch and command. You find yourself leaning into him.

"You like to be told what to do," he coos into your ear. "You're fucking soaked. Is it because I scare you?"

"N-No," you moan.

The loud music is swallowing your sounds. Your hips can't help but want to rock against him, but Jungkook's free hand is forceful and rough, not budging to hold you against the stool. The restriction only makes you want to moan louder.

"You shouldn't ever be scared of me. I can't resist touching you," he murmurs. "I want this pussy to be mine."

"It's yours," you breathe heavily.

Your mouth falls agape and you bite down on his shoulder to stop yourself from being too overwhelmed with sensation. His thumb is moving at a wavering pace against your clit, rubbing circles and hitting every spot that makes your toes curl. You jolt forward into him when you feel a finger inside you.

"Yes," you moan, "keep going."

"Beautiful," he purrs at you, "You're so tight for me. Only for me, right?"

You squeeze the material of his shirt in your grasp when another finger enters you. His thumb continues to tease and roll against your clit. The naughtiness of the surrounding sounds of the people at the bar has enthralled your mind. The thrill of not knowing if someone will see you strangely makes you even more aroused. Jungkook is humming in satisfaction at your responses to his touch.

"Yes," you nod with a breathless response. His dirty words are so hot falling from his deep voice. "Fuck, Jungkook... only for you."

"Mhm," he grunts pompously. "You're such a filthy girl, letting me do this to you here."

"I-I don't... ever do this," you cry out.

You can hear his fingers as they push in and out of your wet folds. You bite your lip and bring him closer to you to stop yourself from being too loud. The cold metal at the bar has become ten times colder due to how heated your skin is becoming. Your mind is in a lull; it feels like hours have passed and yet time is going so slow; torturously slow, from the skillful use of his fingers.

"For me you did," his lips are at your ear, only this time he places a kiss there. He is growling into your ear, "My curious baby. Mine."

"All yours," you practically cry as the pressure becomes too much. You have no problem adhering to his possession kink as your core aches and pulses for his touch. Your lips are swollen and throbbing from how harshly you are biting down.

A heated sensation erupts through every nerve in your body. Jungkook's hold on you tightens as you come undone against his hand, whining out into his shoulder. His lips are on your neck, nibbling at your sensitive skin harshly. You suck in a breath and dig your fingers into him. You can feel your heart against your chest as you come down from the high; the room is spinning momentarily.

You are lifeless against Jungkook's muscular body. Your palm can't help but slide against him; his arms and torso are rock hard and solid, obvious signs of fitness beneath all the dark clothing. When you finally look at his face, he is cutely flushed as well. His fingers retract from inside you and you whimper. The wet skin at your neck feels chilled as the air hits it, and the stinging sensation tells you there will most likely be a love bite there tomorrow.

Your chest is heaving and you lean against the bar counter. No one surrounding the two of you noticed what happened, but it doesn't change the slight embarrassment you feel. Nevertheless, the thrill of what happened has stained you— you are exhilarated.

"___!" Fia's voice slices through the air unforgivingly as your name leaves her mouth.

Jungkook distances himself from you thankfully. You're quick to compose yourself and fix your skirt, swiveling around in the stool and downing the last of your water.

"Ah," she squeals. "You'll... you'll never believe what I just did..."

"I think I can," you laugh at the irony.

"I just fucked Jimin three times in the bathroom. Three times."

You're stunned and don't know what to say. There is no way you are going to tell Fia what you just did. Part of you doesn't want to share the intimate moment— not because you feel embarrassed, but because for some reason it was kind of... nice? In the nicest way getting fingered at a bar by a stranger could ever be. Now you felt as though you were just making up excuses for yourself; you're drunk. He was as well. You fear that your hangover tomorrow will prove that this was a mistake.

"Wow," you smile for her excitement anyway. "How was it?"

"Let me tell you," she gapes with a dainty smile, "that tiny man is packing."

The two of you erupt in giggles at her description. Fia is swooning so hard that you think she might faint. It isn't until she glances at your location that she shows a worrisome expression.

"Have you been sitting here alone this whole time?"

"No, I'm with—"

You cut yourself off when you attempt to gesture to the stool next to you. Jungkook isn't there, and you can't believe how distracted you could've been to possibly not see him move. It's almost like when he escaped from the table earlier, except somehow then you caught him just in time. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes scan across the room. He isn't here.

Where the hell did he go?

"Hey, you guys ready?" Hoseok's voice drags your attention away from looking around. When you finally stand from the stool, your knees are weak. You gasp at yourself and stand stationary for a moment to compose your balance.

Both you and Fia manage to walk towards him. His guitar case is at his feet and the low mutterings of the men behind him are filling the air as the DJ has cut out. You check the time— it's 2 a.m. The bar is closing soon. Drunk muttering and girl's giggles are heard from the distance. Your eyes can't help but continuously look around. What the fuck?

"No, like..." a drunken Namjoon slurs at the table. "He could’ve totally murdered that girl."

"Bullshit," Jimin says dismissively. "He was at practice all night."

"Only takes a minute to stab someone," Jin shrugs as if intervening is none of his business.

"Convince me," Jimin prompts Namjoon and Jin. All of them are drunk off their asses and barely making sense.

"I don't know," Namjoon mutters. His words are forming together and his hand is wavering with an almost empty glass of beer in his hand. "Have you heard from her? 'Cuz I sure as hell haven't."

"She was tired of seeing your annoying ass," Jimin jokes.

Fia and you look at each other with alarmed expressions. Suddenly you feel the urge to cry. Namjoon's drunken thoughts could very well be the truth, and just thinking that a murder could've just been on stage entertaining you in a crowd has got you feeling absolutely sick to your stomach. You fear for Hoseok's life; Slash sounds sketchy and untrustworthy. He isn't someone you want Hoseok hanging out with.

"Guys, chill," Hoseok mediates.

"Just speaking my mind," Namjoon puts his hands up defensively.

"Why do you guys stay in the band then?" You demand an answer. Tolerating a killer has never been high on your list of things to allow.

Jimin and Namjoon are too drunk to recognize your anger. Their smiles grow and they look at each other before chuckling loudly; Jimin's hand starts patting at Namjoon's chest and he shows off a cocky grin.

"We're gunna be famous, baby," he gloats.

You scoff.

"___, they're drunk," Fia places her hand on your arm. She is mumbling out her words weakly. Drunk environments aren't the best place to confront issues.

Hoseok awkwardly grabs his guitar case before you can cause an altercation. It could be possible that you are projecting your frustrations from Jungkook's disappearance onto the words of a bunch of drunk men. You have been insinuating Slash's criminal behavior all night, and their drunk conversation could very well be stemmed off of that.

"This is fucked up and scary," you tell Hoseok as the three of you are leaving the bar.

"They were just trying to entertain themselves," Fia assures you, but it isn't assuring. She doesn't know anything. She is too into the band to think anything could be wrong.

"You guys are giving me a fucking headache," Hoseok whines at the two of you.

"I'm worried for you," you frown.

"Don't be," Hoseok sighs. "This band is my break. Finally."

You have no choice but to nod.

The moment your ass sinks into the taxi, you can't help but groan in release. Your head feels heavy and the night feels as though it was longer than just a mere five hours. Alcohol has its way of creeping up on you— but could it have been the culprit for creating a fake man at a bar who pleasured you?

No way, you convince yourself. That was definitely real. What the hell is his problem? You can't believe that you just did that with a complete stranger. He ghosted you within an hour of interacting.

Your sulking stare out the window is interrupted by the buzzing of your phone. The bright light of your screen is hard to focus on, but when you finally do, your heart skips a beat.

unknown [2:23 AM] — still scared of me? 

[abilitypossessed-m]

Anon asked:  ☠ , ♥, ⚜ , ☄ , ☀ , ✂ , ✖ , ♒ the salty af munday meme

Oh boyyyyyyy- Salt content.

Hold on, hold on, I need a read more for this shit-

☠ What does someone have to do for an instant unfollow from you?

Good question! There are a few ways to get me to unfollow someone, though I will admit it’s been a while since I unfollowed someone. Clearly not reading my rules is a good one, along with being on a hiatus or just being away for a long time and never saying so. I’m not asking for some long, detailed post about why you’re going on hiatus for a while or something-- I just want to know that you aren’t dead or outright abandoning the blog.

♥ What's the WORST thing that has happened to you rp wise?

This is a harder one because I gotta admit, it’s been a few years since it happened and I kinda blocked it out of my head for a hot minute. But I got a message from someone about wanting to RP, and it eventually led to my Discord because they seemed nice enough, you know?

But then they changed the conversation to non-conning my muse. Which let’s be fair, that’s something that happens, muses be like that at times, so I could kind of understand where they were coming from. But the way they were asking to do it made me uncomfortable. Then they started asking about me personally, my life and my sexual interests. This 100% irked me and I swear to the lord that they knew that.

It was when they asked for images of myself that I blocked them. I looked up their URL later to find that they had been called out before for doing such things a couple years prior to them contacting me.

⚜ How many people do you not like?

Now, I certainly couldn’t say an exact number, if you know me from my other blog I’m in too many fandoms and every fandom has it’s people. But I will admit there really are two people in particular that I go to all costs to avoid simply because of seeing what they’ve done to people around me and my own experience.

☄ Have you ever been in the middle of drama?

I hate to say it, but yeah, I’ve been in drama a couple of times. I won’t say what about, or where, but it’s happened. People went through loops via my friends to contact me a few different times over the years over some petty things, and some fandoms seem to be nothing but drama, sadly. But I’ve never been called out, if I was I’ve certainly never heard of it or no one ever told me. It’s kinda why I’m a bit picky with my other fandoms and who I interact with in those series in particular.

☀ What's your rp pet peeve?

Let. Me. Actually. See. Your. IcOnS-

I absolutely can’t stand icons that are smaller than 70 x 70, they look like a bunch of tiny, tiny pixels that my blind bat eyes can’t see. 

Also a similar peeve, double small text, along with when words or letters of a word are spelled out over more than one space. I can squint my kiwi eyes to see them if it’s only once or twice, but if it’s all over the reply I’ll go nuts trying to read it.

✂ A fandom that you feel isn't open and accepting?

Aaaahahahaha....

I’m good, I’m not getting pulled into drama again just because I say a fandom isn’t welcoming. 

But if you go into IMs I might say. I’m just not gonna dare say such things on Tumblr, because they’ve proven previously that they keep an eye on me and I’m not mentally well enough to deal with that.

I will agree though, series like BnHA and Voltron do indeed, seem very uncomfortable just being an outsider and seeing a rare post about the fandom via mutuals.

✖ How has Tumblr RP changed since you started?

Well, for starters, the updates have really sucked- But I suppose you mean RPC-wise. I started way back in 2013-14. Not as long as other people but still, I’m kinda sorta old. I think that, in general, everything’s grown very constricted. I remember seeing posts of people being open than not being hated on for having opinions. Being able to write more dark content without people crying about it. It’s just gotten... Worse. But this is the only real platform to RP and so we’re all stuck in this hell.

♒ Thoughts on the fandom you're currently rping in?

Now we get some fluff at the end. Good, good-

BSD is one of the better fandoms I’ve been in recently. I’m still newer so perhaps I’m not seeing all of the people and such, but I haven’t seen any public posting calling out people when that’s something I usually see in the other fandom’s I’m in once a week to once a month.

Seriously, this place is a breath of fresh air.

[early-sxnsets]

No Wait Unblock Me

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215168/chapters/43133210

Chapter 2/10 of It’s A Handheld Disaster

Word Count: 1580

Chapter Summary: Simon and Baz finally get to "mutuals" status.

BAZ

For the third time today, I see a similar notification slide through my drop down.

bi-sammy sent you a picture

Part of me initially wants to sigh, roll my eyes, and swipe it away, because apparently part of me wishes to be alone for the rest of my life. Thankfully, the reasonable, tiny sliver of my mind makes sure I don’t make such a mistake.

Given the situation, one would think we’d parted ways. He makes a post, we stop the argument, all is fair in fandom and war. Except, now I believe Snow has grown under an impression that after one exchange, it qualifies us for somewhat of a friendship, and therefore reason to send me memes. Don’t get me wrong, memes are a fantastic waste of time and barely a waste of energy, but it’s strange that he’s not fucking off like most people.

Maybe I’m used to others being scared of me.

Maybe I’m used to others following my tactics of scaring them away.

Whatever I’ve done hasn’t worked, since this arse is immune to my attempts at coldness and mild animosity. I’m starting to suspect there’s something genuinely wrong with him, like he doesn’t get enough love and attention.

Guess that makes two of us.

I guess I somewhat crave this friendship. I’ll speak the truth to that and say yes, I smile when his memes pop up. They’re almost always fandom, and definitely made on Photoshop. This one, I see as I tap and let it load, is the crudely drawn Kirby graphic shoving burgers into his mouth, but over Kirby is photoshopped a picture of Huxley’s face and the burgers are Sam's ass.

It’s all poorly done and, sadly, extremely endearing.

My thumbs hover over my keyboard, cheeks creasing as I stare down at the picture. I lay back against my pillows, the curtains drawn and my hair pulled out of my face. It’s quite lonely; my life’s a sterile mixture of quarantined education and age old settled dust in my ancient room. It’s nice to have his somewhat obnoxious messages pop onto my screen, but it feels so odd. So foreign, and barely understood.

I want to understand.

gaystrell: why are you still messaging me?

I get an answer not even a minute later.

bi-sammy: do you want me to stop?

I don’t even hesitate to send out a reply, feeling a steadily growing lump in my throat, choking me mindless.

gaystrell: no.

bi-sammy: then why did you ask?

gaystrell: i just

gaystrell: don’t get it

bi-sammy: get what?

gaystrell: why you’d want to talk to me

bi-sammy: because youre cool

gaystrell: vexing me won’t get you “street cred”, if that’s what you’re after

bi-sammy: shit no wait that’s not what i meant

bi-sammy: dont block me fukc wait

bi-sammy: id just meant that you wrote all that shit and i thought it was really cool and

bi-sammy: i dont know

bi-sammy: i thought we could be friends since you did all that

bi-sammy: ill stop if you want me to

gaystrell: calm down you’re clogging my notifs

gaystrell: do that again and i /will/ block you

gaystrell: but………. if you actually do want to be friends i suppose i’m willing to give forth a little attention

bi-sammy: im osrry i dont speak posh cunt

gaystrell: too bad, blocked

bi-sammy: no wait unblock me

gaystrell: fine last chance

bi-sammy: bitch

gaystrell: b l o c k e d

bi-sammy: no but,,,,,,, i do want to be friends

I’m smiling like a fucking loon, scrolling through our brief exchange. It’s strange. Most people aren’t upfront about wanting to talk, or wanting someone to talk with. Wanting a friend, even. I have the people follow me and ask me questions, and of that only a small handful of those who actually interact eith me (and even in that, we usually only speak to give each other a helping hand).

And despite that, here’s someone who wants to try.

I suck my lower lip into my mouth, trying to think of my course of actions.

There’s a simple one I can take now (and probably should’ve taken as an initiative). I click his icon, and click “Follow” on his page.

It doesn’t take very long before I get a notification come through, starting that he mentioned me in a post.

It isn’t very long, but it gets its point across in the best way possible. It’s just a mobile screenshot, reading “gaystrell started following bi-sammy” with a quick caption.

god himself entered the groupchat. how do i block him?

SIMON

I wonder what it’d be like to see me in the moment. It’s a real shame Penn wasn’t around to capture it, since I’m in the middle of French class, but I must’ve smiled so stupidly that it caught the attention of the professor. He gave me a stern look until I set down my mobile.

The moment he turned away, I opened it back up and grinned.

At first, I didn’t believe what I was seeing. Him. Following me.

Us. Mutuals. Mutuals.

Of course I had to screenshot and post as a brag (barely humble, more metaphorically sucking my own knob for all my followers to see). Nobody really cares, as expected.

Well, nobody except the single message from none other than Mr. Bitch.

gaystrell: blocked. unfollowed. reported. waste of space.

My smile creases back my cheeks as they flush pink. I send back a quick message before turning my mobile over, foot tapping double the speed of the analogue on the wall.

bi-sammy: ;)

BAZ

He winked. Interesting.

I’m out of breath.

Fuck?

I lay my phone flat away from me, face down as I squint at my wall. I should respond in a composed fashion. I have to be clever, and not one-upping him is never an option. After all, does this qualify as flirting? Friendly banter? What am I doing with this random fucking bloke that I don’t even have a face to put to?

He’s my age. Roughly. Yes?

I check his tumblr again, as if I hadn’t just read his bio earlier.

simon // he/him // 17 // hold my fucking hand (please)

Maybe he’s just straight and I’m misreading it. Yes. Probably. Aren’t most people straight? Is that still a fact? (I highly doubt it, given how boring that must be.) But he winked at me. Somewhat prompted, I’ll give him that, but it was still a fucking wink.

I wink in texts to Dev and Niall too, though, but that’s different, isn’t it? I’d never snog either of them (especially fucking Dev), but hey. If unfaced internet boy asked for a snog, would I?

I’m too wrapped up and starved for human interaction to properly deal with this.

gaystrell: i will carry on with my threats, snow

There it is. Perfectly biting, while not being entirely rejecting. Maybe I’m better at this than I thought.

Or, perhaps, I’m worse, because even an hour and a half after sending the text, he’s silent.

I remind myself every few minutes that he most likely attends an actual school and has classes, but it makes my chest ache in the most unfair way every time my mobile tempts me with an unrelated notification.

I work myself to the point of moping down in the kitchen, slumping against the fridge whilst watching Vera make tea. She’s relatively silent, knowing better than anybody to leave me to sulk.

“You’re a drama queen,” she tuts, looking over me. Granted, I dress like a slob and borderline haunt this godforsaken mansion, but I feel as though that makes me entitled to being the way I am.

“I’m lonely,” I sigh, head resting against the fridge. It hums beside me, the chromed metal cooling my cheek. “Am I not granted a dramatic spell every now and then?”

“Not unprovoked.”

I set a hand against the handle, then let it drop. I’m not hungry. “What if it was provoked?”

“Is it?”

Instinctively, I pull out my phone and click it on. Nothing. “Perhaps.”

Vera frowns at me, walking over and setting a hand on my arm. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?”

My eyes slowly roll as I push myself off the appliance, standing upright. “Physically, yes. Don’t fuss. It’s just… online shit.”

“You spend too much time on the phone,” she sighs, letting go and going back to the tea as she fixes me a mug. “Don’t you think you’d be happier to disconnect from social media for a day or two? Go on a walk, see nature?”

I snort, looking outside. “And what? Trip and bust open my knee? That’d wind me back up in care for at least a few days.”

“You act like you’re made of paper and glass.” She offers over my mug, letting my fingers wind around the handle before she shakes her head.

“I might as well be,” I huff down before thanking her and blowing on my tea.

Once I leave back up to my room, I realise it's somehow more depressing in here over the kitchen with Vera’s disapproval of technology rantings. At least she’s some sort of company.

As I’m sipping my tea, I go back to scrolling on my laptop as a notif pops up, jarring me with the sound but letting me breathe again.

bi-sammy: why do you know my last name smh

I exhale slowly, smiling to myself.

gaystrell: you commented on my google doc, you idiot

[silverquillsideas]

Salmon and others were openly discussing rape and talking about drawing rape and there were people in the replies talking about how seeing a “rape drawing” changed the way they consumed content and shipped things (they meant that they liked the rape btw). If she hasn’t gone back to private, you can probably find those for yourself since they’re pretty recent. I thought you seemed nice but I’m really disappointed in you. Will be unfollowing and blocking.

Hello! I was debating on how (if at all) to answer this, since you seem to have already made up your mind to not hear anything further about this issue altogether.

But I do have a few things to say, regardless, because I found specific phrases you used, to be sketchy/unclear at best.

Warning tho : this is going to delve into a discussion of "rape and sexuality" from a real life perspective, since the fandom seems so bent upon drawing parallels to reality and compare fiction and irl examples. If you find that uncomfortable, block the tag "tw:rape" and scroll past.

_____

So, my first point of discussion : "Salmon and others were openly discussing rape and talking about drawing rape"

Putting aside the issue of the subject matter of the threads for a second, I'll focus on the other part : about *posting publicly*. I talked to three separate followers of the twt artist, who also happen to be my tumblr mutuals, and they basically confirmed the same thing : there was no "open discussion", in the sense, that, they did so either on Privatter (assuming you know how it works) or they did in the comment threads on their *personal twitter account*, and only those who were willing to engage in such a discussion, went ahead and joined. They did not encroach on anyone's space and invite them in forcefully.

I'm putting the screenshots of conversation I've had with one of my friends regarding this, and as you can see, none of it was *open for public viewing*

Also, here's the artist's own message that's pinned to their account :

Let me put this in perspective : suppose you're not into kpop (I picked a random example, btw) and find it weird and flamboyant, and you generally avoid it altogether. While scrolling through tumblr, you stumble upon a hardcore kpop blog, you're totally put off by the contents and you complain to your mutuals about how ABC person indulges in kpop and you found it weird and unappealing.

But my point is, there was nothing public about the said blog or account, because, by nature, every blog or account is a person's private space for expression of ideas. Yes, tumblr, twitter and other social media platforms are all *public* in the sense that they are hosted on public domains and anyone with an access to the Internet can stumble upon any website or blog listed therein. But, you, being a responsible, well discerning person, willingly stepped onto a personal blog or acc on which the owner was likely to present their own views, and started complaining about what you found there. Your statement implies, that you willingly browsed through the comment threads until the point you spotted these uncomfortable discussions and you voluntarily exposed yourself to the same.

My second point : "there were people in the replies talking about how seeing a "rape drawing" changed the way they consumed content and shipped things (they meant that they liked rape btw)"

I find it highly confusing how you generalised something as sensitive and complex as psychological behaviour on behalf of a bunch of strangers you never actually interacted with (or confirmed their views on the said matter) and proceeded to label them as "people who liked rape".

What does the statement "liking rape" mean anyway? And, does anyone who talk about or discusses rape, in the context of fanarts and fanfiction, and that too, "rape fantasy" in this case, (but I'll get to it in a moment) automatically becomes someone who likes the act? Or condones it happening in real life, to real people or situations? I'm curious as to which aspect of rape they talked about 'liking' (since your statement implies they explicitly stated so) : was it the pain, the trauma, the physical and psychological stress, or the violence and the sense of dominance over a helpless, real life person?

If you do have an answer supported by evidence, let me know, I'll modify my response gladly.

It brings me to my third point : these artists or the people who commented, were discussing, not about real life rape, but a fantasy situation in which they put two fictional characters together and made a fanart of them (the composition of the art in question is described in the conversation above).

Deriving pleasure from the actual act of rape or sexual violence is a pathological condition and needs medical or psychiatric treatment.

Deriving pleasure or indulging in paraphilic sexual fantasies, however, is not uncommon. I'll redirect you to @iamtrashforash 's post here that describes this issue more coherently. I'll also point you to articles written on PsychologyToday, based on research done on this specific topic of "Rape Fantasy" that I found, and I think everyone should have a look at them :

Article 1

Article 2

If I remember correctly, the actual comment I saw in the screenshot circulating around, regarding the controversy, went something along the lines of "I love seeing Ash's pained face in this situation", and that's what made people lose their minds. There was outrage over "How could you do that with Ash, a CSA survivor? It sends a bad message to them, it's triggering, it's disrespectful, you are disgusting, etc etc."

But, my own conversations with three people who are in real life CSA survivors, two of them who reached out to me in my DMs over the last two days, have given me a very different idea about what these people actually think regarding the art. Here's the hot take : they did not find it disturbing or offensive to themselves personally.

In fact, they pointed out, that they saw it as a fictional scenario, were well aware of the differences between the artist's intent and their potential real life behaviour (FYI, none of them drew the conclusion that either the artist or the people discussing it, "liked rape").

The fact that the comment threads were openly talking about indulging in such a fantasy is what seemed to baffle the more outspoken and outraged people, who proceeded to harass and send hate messages to the creators. But here's the fact : these fetishes have existed for as long as humanity has, and will continue to do so, regardless of whether you crucify a handful of people in a small corner of a fandom or not.

If you're familiar with the yaoi manga genre, or any adult erotica games (I can't cite any examples bc I don't have enough details, but I do know they exist), you'll find a plethora of works where all sorts of fantasy situations are presented : rape is fetishised, there's shape-shifters (vampires or otherwise), A/B/O dynamics, even bestiality. In other words, a major prevalence of themes like dominant, aggressive behaviour contrasted with helpless, passive behaviour as far as sexual situations go. And they are thriving. They have a huge pool of audience out in the world.

Whether these fetishes are "morally right or wrong" to indulge in, is not a question I have any authority to debate, because I'm not a clinical psychologist, or a behavioural scientist.

Personally speaking, I happen to be a demisexual person. Any discussion of sexual situations or scenarios outside of my own very narrow comfort zone or mental compatibility scares the shit out of me. And I find all of the above scenarios I described, as plainly unappealing and downright weird or scary. I will never, as long as I have my faculties in control, go out seeking any of them voluntarily, in either fanarts or fiction.

My point is, this is a complicated issue, I fully acknowledge that beforehand. We, as a fandom, got attached to Ash as a character, for so many different reasons. We all love him, respect him for standing up against all odds, and fighting against his fate all his life. That's the reason why the back-lash against these depictions got so violent, I think. People are more willing to see him heal, to see him make peace with his scars and move on. The general consensus with this line of thought was so ingrained in our minds, that people lashed out as soon as something "against the norms" and "potentially harmful" came to their notice.

But, the thing is, both these outcomes, are fictional. The fandom's biggest purpose is this : we weave fiction out of fiction itself. That's why we have fanarts and AUs and headcanons and a hundred other things. And different people will find different aspects of said fictional scenarios appealing. It's why we have so many ships on one hand and unfortunately, *ridiculous* ship-wars and toxic discourses on the other. But, it's okay to accept that there'll always be differences in such a wide space where everyone is coming together. It's okay to find content you don't agree with, and simply, move on.

But, I'll repeat myself : I'm not going to persecute people, who have carefully tagged, classified, and filtered their content, being mindful of the others in the fandom, and barge on their doors demanding "why they liked what they liked" and "how could they like such a thing??". Especially because it is fiction, involving fictional characters, separated from reality.

Had it been a real life discourse, involving actual people, I'd have definitely spoken out against it.

Also, to anon, if you find my views or ideas unpleasant, or find my completely sfw multifandom blog a safety hazard, then you're more than welcome to unfollow and block me. Your mental peace is all that I ask for. :)

[aroworlds]

Aro-Spec Artist Profile: Alex

Today I have the delight of introducing Alex, better known to aro-spec Tumblr as @arotaro and @mutant-jojos!

Alex is a bisexual, half-Puerto Rican multi-disciplinary aromantic artist and creative with severe ADHD. You’ll find her prolific fanworks on AO3 as EmeraldTrash666, writing primarily for the JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure fandom. Her bold, colourful art for the JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Fullmetal Alchemist, Hetalia, Pokemon and Vocaloid fandoms is also available on Redbubble under the name StellaHagane.

She writes, she creates digital art and she dabbles in music, sewing and fashion design, single-handedly proving that there’s no such thing as too much creative awesome for any one aromantic!

With us Alex talks about finding the word aro, the power of fandom and creative fanworks, her love of aro Jotaro, the challenges of creating with ADHD, the struggles of being an aro gen writer in fandom and the importance of expressing our aro headcanons. Everything she says is absolutely on point, so please let’s give her all our love, encouragement, gratitude, kudos and follows for taking the time to explore what it is to be aromantic and creative.

Can you share with us your story in being aro-spec?

I guess in some ways my “story” starts out pretty typical. Got older, kept waiting for my First Crush™, never got it, started worrying and trying to force myself to develop crushes. I actually was in a relationship with another girl on a forum I was part of as a teenager, but eventually I realized that I didn’t really like her romantically, and the relationship started to become really unpleasant for me. I eventually felt so miserable that I didn’t even want to talk at her at all, even though we were close friends, but I didn’t want to break up with her - partly because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, partly because we were everyone’s “OTP” and I didn’t want my friends to hate me for ruining that. But eventually I did break up with her, and I’m happy to say she took it with grace and we’re still close friends today! (She’s ace and a great writer/artist herself, too!)

I was part of a very nice LGBTQ+ group as a teenager, but I could never figure out my identity. I felt really ashamed and alone. Whenever I brought up how messed up I felt because I’d never had a crush on anyone, everyone was like, “Oh, sounds like you must be asexual!”, but I knew I wasn’t, and that was the worst part. Even though I knew aromanticism was a thing, nobody ever talked about it. It was only ever in the context of aroaces, so I didn’t know I was aro. I thought I must have had some sort of mental illness or something, but certainly not a legitimate orientation, nothing to be proud of like everyone else.

During that time, I found myself connecting on a deep emotional level to characters like Alphonse Elric, Fujiwara no Sai, the X-Men in general (although I’ve been an X-Men fan since I was literally a baby), basically anyone who was somehow “different” from the rest of humanity, even though I never understood why, since I was a fairly privileged kid who had never experienced much bullying or anything. Weirdly enough, it was Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure that helped me realize I was aro and come to terms with it; I saw an interview with Hirohiko Araki, the author of JJBA, where he was asked what type of girls Jotaro Kujo likes, and replied that he didn’t think Jotaro liked girls. The obvious interpretation would be that Jotaro’s gay, but somehow, one way or another, I decided to go with the idea that Jotaro’s aromantic. Jotaro also happened to be a character I really related to for reasons I couldn’t quite articulate, so around the time I was 18 I put two and two together and was like ... oh shit…

Please click keep reading to continue Alex’s story!

Can you share with us the story behind your creativity?

I’ve always been weird in the way I’m very creative, but tend to kinda bounce around from hobby to hobby. Other people draw, or write, or sing, while I draw for a month, and then write for a month and sew for a week and play video games for a week, and then I draw some more, and then I try out something completely new, and then I write again. I think it must be an ADHD thing, idk. In any case, I’ve just always been really passionate about making stuff, whatever that stuff happens to be.

I’ve also always been very much fandom-oriented. Ever since I was a toddler, I used to dictate fanfiction to my mom (back then it usually involved Winnie the Pooh, the Powerpuff Girls, Godzilla, and my dog). I mostly draw fanart. I find that I’m not really capable of writing original stories, but I’m great at getting fanfics in character, and I love writing them. I love taking stories I already love and reinterpreting them, seeing what it would be like if the characters were put into different situations, etc.

Because of my ADHD, I really struggle with actually finishing things. I try really really hard, I really do, and I’ve been trying to push myself even harder these past few years. I’ve made progress, but it’s still extremely difficult, so I’m very sorry for all the projects I’ve abandoned over the years. Sorry I still haven’t finished the fic that was supposed to be done in early March. I’m trying, really. I promise I’m working on the next chapter of BLaD, too.

Are there any particular ways your aro-spec experience is expressed in your art?

Of course, pretty much everything I write is gen. Even if I include romantic relationships in my fics, I never write about romance, just stories which also happen to include some characters who might be dating someone. And obviously I always write Jotaro as aro! That’s really important to me. No matter which AU I’m writing, he’s always aro. (And autistic, but that’s off topic.)

I’m also not really into shipping because of my romance repulsion, but I ship Joseph Joestar and Caesar Zeppeli. The thing is … I’ve always viewed it as a unique relationship, sort of difficult to define as being strictly romantic or platonic or sexual, just kind of their own thing that defies words. That’s how I’ve always written it. I had the sudden realization recently that this strange view on the only ship I really actually like (at the moment, anyway) is probably due to my being aro, lmao.

What challenges do you face as an aro-spec artist?

People don’t read gen fics, and people aren’t interested in aro stories. That’s just the way it is. I do have some dedicated readers, whom I love deeply, but in general… I could post something with a deep plot, something funny and dramatic and witty and touching, something I poured my heart and soul into for months, and it’ll get very few hits/comments/kudos, while someone else could post the same generic 2,000-word romance fic everyone’s seen a dozen times over, with no editing or anything, and get twice the amount of traffic my fics do in half the time. It’s really crushing.

How do you connect to the aro-spec and a-spec communities as an aro-spec person?

I dunno… The aro community feels so small. Online, I have a small circle of aro mutuals who all kind of vent collectively, and I’m part of Arocalypse and a few aro/aspec Discord servers, but I still feel like there isn’t really much of a larger community to be part of in the same way that there is for other orientations. Offline, I’ve never met another aro, or even anyone who actually knows what aromanticism is prior to me explaining it to them.

I also don’t feel like there’s a very unified “aspec community”. As an allo aro, I feel very rejected by the ace community - not to say that I feel like I should be part of the ace community, since I’m not ace, but I feel like they throw aros under the bus a lot. I mean, we’ve all seen the “asexuals can feel love, just like anybody else! … oh, except for aroaces, I guess. But the rest of us are normal, so you should accept us!” rhetoric. Both within and outside the aspec communities, aros are rarely treated with the same priority as aces, even though we’re arguably in a much more difficult position than your average allo ace.

That being said, I’m glad there is an aro community at all. I don’t know where I’d be now if I were still questioning. Probably not in a very good place.

How do you connect to your creative community as an aro-spec person?

As I mentioned, there’s a general lack of interest in gen fics or sympathy for romance-repulsed people in general. It’s really difficult being romance repulsed in fandom spaces, because nobody cares about anything other than ships. There are very few gen fics, and even less that are a decent length, not abandoned, or cater to my specific interests, so I have to write my own. I don’t often have anything good to read; most of the big fics, the ones with cool plots and long word counts and ongoing updates, are ship fics. If I’m lucky, maybe two gen fics will be posted in one week, and maybe one of them will be longer than a few thousand words. Maybe one might even have my favorite characters. But usually genfics are few and far between, and kind of random in terms of what you’ll get. Sometimes I get so bored that I read ship fics anyway, and then I always wind up feeling really awful afterwards.

I’ve written, over the course of the past two years alone, over 20 gen fics. But whenever I vent that sometimes I’d like to actually get to read something, I always get someone telling me, “Well if you want gen fics, write some yourself! You have to make the change! You can’t demand people write stuff for you!” And of course, at the same time it’s totally acceptable to request ship fics from your favorite author, and if you complain that there aren’t enough fics for your rarepair, it’s seen as relatable and totally valid.

Fandom is just … really, really amatonormative, tbh. I hate it. I’m trying to make a difference (I did organize Gen Jojo Week along with my friend Rachel last year, and hopefully will again this year), but there’s only so much I can do.

How can the aro-spec community best help you as a creative?

Aside from reblogging my art and promoting my fics? Talk about stuff. Talk about aro stuff in fandom. Seriously! I know it seems obvious that aro people would like aro headcanons and gen fics and all that, but we need to talk about them more. Nobody outside the community gives enough of a shit about us to have aro headcanons, so let’s get them popular. Talk about your favorite aro headcanons. Talk about your favorite gen fics. Talk about how such-and-such character is totally aro; talk about how excited you are to see aro characters in fics. My dream is for aro headcanons to become just as common and popular as any other type of headcanon.

Can you share with us something about your current project?

This is old news to most of the people who already know me, but my current big project that I’ve been working on for several years now is Between Life and Death, a drama/horror/supernatural JJBA fic.

(WARNING: PHANTOM BLOOD AND STARDUST CRUSADERS SPOILERS BELOW.)

The plot of the fic is that Dio wins at the end of Stardust Crusaders, and after realizing that he has no hobbies other than harassing the Joestars, he decides to bring Jonathan back by sticking his head (which… we’ll just assume Dio preserved for plot purposes) onto Jotaro’s body. Obviously, Jonathan is NOT happy with this arrangement, but it also turns out that Jotaro’s still alive, just not in control of his body. He can still use his stand, so he essentially uses Star Platinum as a sort of proxy for interacting with the environment around him, even though he only comes out when Jonathan’s alone since he doesn’t want Dio to know he’s alive.

Basically, it’s the story of a depressed vampire and a traumatized ghost. It’s a very introspective fic; most of the story consists of conflicts between Dio and Jonathan, and Jonathan and Jotaro struggling to come to terms with their new existences - Jonathan being unable to reconcile vampirism with his personal morals, and Jotaro having one hell of an identity crisis while also mourning the deaths of his friends and family. The plot is picking up, though, and there is an end goal in mind, as well as an eventual sequel!

As for where the story-in-progress is at right now … well, the next “stage” of the plot is hamon training for Kakyoin and Avdol, which will be fun. This chapter also includes several dream sequences, including an extended appearance by Mary Joestar (Jonathan’s mom), and a very serious and dark scene which I almost ruined by having dream!Will Zeppeli refer to Jonathan as his padawan. Yeah.

Have you any forthcoming works we should look forward to?

As mentioned, I’m working on chapter 9 of Between Life and Death! And working on and off on some stuff for the mutants AU. Most recently, on a whim I rewrote the lyrics to Handbeat Clocktower by MOTHY to be about Jonathan Joestar. Somehow this went far enough that I’m making an actual UTAU rendition of this “parody”, and hopefully it’ll be done sometime in the next few weeks. I’m really having fun with it and I hope people like it!

[wantisamlindyla]

Your Ghost - Chapter 3

Fandom/Pairing: Mike/Eleven Rating: Will be M in later chapters. Summary:

New York, 1999.

He wanted her to live again, even if she could only come back to him through the pages of a book.

Read previous chapters on AO3 here:

15 December 1984 - Day 399

 Mike was playing with his Super Comm in the fort when Nancy found him.

 He was flipping from channel to channel aimlessly when Nancy knelt down and ducked her head under the blanket. “Hey,” she said gently.

“Hey.” Mike looked up at his sister. Her hair was still curly and pinned back in an updo, but she’d scrubbed her face clean of makeup and switched her dress for pyjamas.

 “I think your friends missed you tonight at the dance.”

 Mike just shrugged. “I didn’t really see the point in going. We didn’t go any of the previous years.”

 Nancy refrained from reciting a list of reasons why he should have gone to the Snow Ball as his parents had during dinner last night. She just watched her brother closely.

 “Are you ok?”

 Mike frowns in confusion. “Me? I’m fine, what about you? Barb’s funeral was yesterday.”

 Nancy shook her head. “I’m fine. It’s really her parents that are grieving. It happened a year ago for me you know? But for them...I guess when she disappeared they still had hope, but now...it’s like they’ve lost her all over again.”

 Mike listened to her intently, taken aback by the fact that Nancy was telling him all this.

 “You know,” Nancy continued, “I was just…sad for so long after it happened. Then all I felt was angry, angry at myself, angry at Steve, angry at Mom and Dad. I felt like I needed someone to blame. But yesterday at her funeral…all I felt was…peace. Like wherever she is…she’s ok, you know what I mean?”

 Mike nodded. He could definitely relate to the feelings of anger and the powerlessness Nancy had just described.

 “Yeah, I mean, sure. What you and Jonathan did, getting the lab shut down.” He smiled at his sister, “It was ballsy, and brave. What you guys did for Barb…and Will, it was good.”

 Nancy looked at him seriously, “We did it for El too,” she said.

 Mike stared at her.

 “I’m really sorry I haven’t been around much for you this year Mike. I know it’s been hard on you, I should have made more of an effort to be here for you. It didn’t really hit me until tonight. I was watching Dustin, Lucas, and, Will, dancing and goofing off and I realised that it wasn’t just me who lost Barb, you lost someone last year too.”

 Mike didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. He looked down at the Super Comm in his hands, desperately trying to stop the dam that was building in his chest.

 Nancy didn’t say anything. She sat there on the basement floor next to him and waited patiently.

 Finally, Mike raised his head and said tearfully, “I used to get this feeling…she was with me. All year, at random moments, I’d get this prickling feeling on my neck or this funny feeling in my stomach, like she was right there in front of me. Sometimes I thought I could see her. I thought I was going crazy. But now I can’t feel her anymore. Ever since that night the thing came out of Will and Hopper said that somehow forced the Gate shut. I’ve…I’ve lost her. She’s really gone.”

 As soon as the words came out of his mouth he burst into tears. Huge, gulping, painful sobs tore out of his chest. Mike realised he hadn’t cried at all since that night when his mom had arrived at the school in a panic and pulled him into her arms.

 All this time, he’d been holding onto hope that El wasn’t truly gone, that she would find her way back to him somehow.

 A long time later, he realised that he’d crawled into Nancy arms. She clung onto him tightly, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.

 “She’s really gone isn’t she?” Mike asked Nancy fearfully. “I don’t know if she’s at peace or not, how do I know?”

 Nancy sniffled and brushed her brother’s messy hair away from his forehead like she had done when he was much younger.

 “Maybe...El really was with you, this whole time. Maybe she was too scared to move on….but… now the Gate’s closed, and she knows we’ll all be safe from the monsters. And she doesn’t want you to feel sad for her anymore so she decided to move on.”

 Mike rested his head on her shoulder, listening to his sister’s steady heartbeat and her words. He wanted it to be true but at the same time he was also frightened she was right, that El had left and walked by herself into the dark, some place he couldn’t follow.

 He asked Nancy something he’d been turning around in his mind for over a month, but too afraid to voice in case it sounded insane.

 “Nancy…do…do you think it was her that stopped those demodogs outside Will’s house that night?”

 Nancy didn’t say anything for a while. She considered it. “You mean…like her ghost?”

 Mike sniffed and wiped at his face, “Yeah.”

 “Maybe. It could have been. I mean…with all the crazy shit we’ve seen…who knows right?”

 Mike laughed, “Yeah, right.” He felt a bit better, cleansed somewhat by his tears. “Thanks Nance.”

 Nancy smiled at him, “You’re welcome. I just want you to know I’m here for you ok?”

 “Ok.” She squeezed him in a tight hug and then she left.

 Mike stayed in the fort by himself a while longer. Then, he stood up slowly, and he started taking apart the blanket fort bit-by-bit.

 He folded up the bed sheets carefully and laid them on the chair. He, rolled up his sleeping bag, placed the cushions back on the couch and took the heavy books he had used as weights and stacked them neatly back on the desk.

 “Goodbye El.”

 ***

 Mike was just stepping out of the shower when he heard his phone ringing. He dashed out of the bathroom clad only in a towel to grab his phone. “Hello?”

 It was Lola.

 “Hey, did I wake you?”

 Mike checked his watch. It was 3 am in the morning in San Francisco.

 “No, not at all.”

 “How’s the tour? Where’d they put you up?”

 Mike looked out the window of his hotel room onto 58th street which was already teaming with people at six in the morning. “The Plaza.”

 Lola gave a low whistle. “Jesus. What I wouldn’t give for four walls and a private bathroom.”

 Mike had started dating Lola about a year ago. She was the lead singer of a rock band that was on tour 8 months of every year so she spent most of her time on the road in a tour bus with five of her bandmates.

 They’d met at a mutual friend’s party where Mike had been intrigued by her tattoos and she had made fun of the way Mike wore his shirts; buttoned up and tucked neatly into his jeans.

 “Did you just finish up? How was tonight’s show?” Mike inquired.

 They spent a minute catching up.

 His dinner with Will had been postponed until tonight, they were going to a sushi bar in the West Village.

 Lola was frustrated with the gigs their manager was booking for them.

 Mike was probably going to head to Indiana for a few days after New York.

 There was a lull in their conversation and Mike stared out his window at the city feeling strangely unmoored.

 He could have blamed it on exhaustion and the long tour, he hadn’t slept a wink last night. But it wasn’t that, ever since his candid interview on the radio, he’d felt like he was slowly unravelling.

 “Mike, are you ok? You sound...distracted.”

 Mike tore his eyes from the window. “No, no, I’m fine. Sorry, just got distracted.”

 Lola paused for a moment. “Is...is there someone there with you?”

 Her strange tone didn’t register with Mike immediately. “What?”

 “Am I...calling at a bad time?”

 “What?” Mike was startled. “No, no, of course not, I’m just...I’m tired that’s all.” Then the full meaning of Lola’s question hit home. His confusion morphed to anger.

 “Why would you think that I was with someone?”

 “Are you mad? It’d be cool with me you know. It’s not like I own you.  We’re both adults. We haven’t even been in the same state as the other these last three months.”

 “What? I...have you slept with someone else in the last three months?”

 “Jesus, no. I’d tell you if I had, why are you so angry?”

 “Because you just accused me of cheating on you-”

 “You can’t cheat on me Mike, we’re in an open relationship.”

 Mike blinked. He plopped down on the edge of his bed trying to process the bombshell his girlfriend had just dropped on him.

 “What? We’re what?” He was getting tired of saying that. “We’re in an open relationship?”

 “Of course we are honey.”

 “But I didn’t know...we never talked about it.” Mike was bewildered. “Is this a new dating rule I haven’t been told about? You’re presumed to be non-exclusive until proven otherwise?”

 Lola laughed, “No, no it’s just the way it is. If I tried to slap a label on our relationship then we probably wouldn’t have made it past two months.”

 Mike was stunned. “I...I always thought of myself as a conventional guy Lola. Too old fashioned for something like an open relationship. I barely even understand how that works. What are the rules?”

 “There are no rules Mike. We see each other when we’re both in town. We have a good time together, then you’re off working and I’m back on the road.”

 “Have most of your relationships been...open?”

 Lola paused. “No, you’re the first one.”

 Mike processed this for a minute. “So the problem is me. Am I….do I come off as a commitment-phobe, or am I too much of a nerd to be full time boyfriend material?”

 Lola sighed, “No sweetie. You know exactly what the whole intense broody author thing does to us ladies. You being really good in the sack helps too.

 You’re just obsessed with your work. You don’t leave much room for anything else. And you like your space. Be honest, what is the longest relationship you’ve had with a woman?”

 Mike didn’t want to admit to her that theirs was the longest running relationship he’d had at that moment.

 “It’s not that easy to build a relationship when we’re separated all the time. Maybe when we’re back home we could try making more of an effort? Maybe I’ll even go on tour with you in July. I’ll help JJ out at the merch stand.”

 Lola laughed lightly, “Well that I gotta see.”

  ***

Mike had a book signing and an appearance at a small event at the Brooklyn Art Museum that day before he caught a taxi to the West Village around seven that evening to meet Will for dinner.

 Will kept apologising profusely for having to postpone dinner so many times.

 Mike had to assure him it was fine. Usually he would have stayed at Jonathan and Nancy’s apartment, but his sister and Jonathan were currently away on assignment and Mike would have felt strange sharing the small space with Mrs Byers.

 “She’s invited Hopper to spend Christmas day with us this year. How weird is that gonna be? Not weird-bad but weird blast from the past you know? Anyways I’m flying the next day to Hawkins the next day but it’s kinda a big deal. Next thing you know they’ll be moving in together...”

 Mike couldn’t really reconcile the fact that Will’s mom was dating Hawkin’s former police chief. He had mixed feelings about the man.

 Hopper had moved away so suddenly in ‘85, after everything that had happened, Mike couldn’t help but feel a bit abandoned by the guy. But Mike couldn’t ever blame him, he had saved his and his friends’ lives countless times.

 And really, who could blame the man for not wanting to live in a town where kids got possessed by shadow monsters and there were creatures going around eating the townspeople?

 Will must have noticed Mike was unusually silent during dinner. He nudged his elbow against Mike’s. “Hey. What’s up with you?”

 Mike looked over at his best friend. Nobody in Hawkins would have recognised the handsome man sitting beside him as the Zombie Boy who had been picked on by bullies his entire adolescent life. He was tall and broad shouldered, the California sunshine had left him with a healthy golden tan. His light brown hair was well-cut and styled so that it didn’t hide his startling blue eyes or his sharp cheekbones.

 Mike felt like a lanky, pasty vampire sitting next to him.

“Nothing.” He picked at his seaweed salad listlessly. “Apparently I’m in an open relationship with Lola because I’m afraid of relationships.”

“Huh?”

Mike explained the morning’s telephone call with Lola to Will. When he finished, Will didn’t respond immediately, he just took a long drink of his beer. Mike felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“You agree with her don’t you.”

Will sighed and gave Mike a wary look.

“I just don’t think you’ve met the right person yet that’s all.”

“You think I have problems with being in a committed relationship?”

“You have control issues.” Will stated plainly. “But so does Nancy, it’s fine.”

Mike didn’t feel like arguing the point with Will. Maybe he realised, deep down, that they were right.

He’d always known something was a bit broken inside him, a little bit skewed, but he’d always thought he was in good company amongst the party.

But he hadn’t realised how everyone had really moved on and how desperately he was still clinging on to the past.

***

Mike decided to take the subway instead of sharing a cab with Will after dinner.

He wanted to walk.

He wandered aimlessly through the city for a while. He got a drink at a tiny hole in the wall jazz bar and listened to the band playing for a while. Then he bought an overpriced coffee from a tiny diner across the road.

It was almost midnight when he decided to catch the last train back to his hotel.

There were only a few people waiting for a train on the platform. There were a few tired looking shift workers on their way home and a group of noisy teenagers and a young woman sitting on a nearby bench.

The woman’s glossy brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and she had a large pair of thick black glasses slipping down a cute button nose which was buried inside a worn and well-loved book.

Mike realised with a start that she was reading his first novel. It was a rare first edition. His publisher had only printed a conservative 500 copies. There had been a printing issue and fthe raincoat on the small figure on the cover had turned out green instead of yellow.

The sounds of a train approaching caused the woman to look up from her book.

Mike’s breath caught in his throat.

He couldn’t take his eyes of her as she closed the book and placed it carefully away in the handbag she was carrying, her movements precise and careful.

She stood up, she slipped the straps of her handbag onto her shoulder and caught Mike’s gaze and froze.

They both stood there on the platform unable to move or do anything else but stare at one another.

Mike wondered if he was dreaming.

He had been thinking about El so much these past few days that perhaps his mind had somehow conjured her to appear before him.

But...she was El, but she wasn’t.

The frightened little girl with a shaved head was gone. In her place was a beautiful woman with long brown hair, but those eyes, those eyes that were staring at him behind those black wire frames.

El’s eyes.

Mike felt his mouth stretch into a smile, and then he was beaming at her.

She’s alive.

She’s ok.

She’s back.

He needed to touch her. He needed to hold her.

He took a step towards her.

The spell broke. El started like a frightened doe and bolted towards the train.

“El! El!”

Mike started after her, but the train door slammed shut in his face with more force than was usual.

“Shit!! Shit!” Mike slammed his fists against the train doors, barely noticing when the other passengers turned their heads to stare at the madman pounding on the side of the train and screaming.

He tried to make a break for the next train carriage, but all the automatic doors were closing.

Mike pressed his frantically hands to the glass window where El was staring at him. “El! El! It’s Mike! Mike!”

The train started to move. He moved with it, staring at her, desperately trying to take in every detail and commit it to memory, her sweet face, her wide eyes, the tears slipping silently down her pale cheeks, her pink sweater and the name-tag clipped to the front which read, ‘Jane.’

“I’ll find you El! El! I’ll find you!”

She shook her head, he watched her mouth form the words, Mike. No.

Then there were two pairs of hands on his arms, pulling his hands away from the glass and heaving him off the side of the train.

The train sped past him and disappeared into darkness.

And she was gone.

[parapluiepliant]

Polaris Con Panel Post - Part I

Hi peeps, mutuals and followers!

 Last weekend, Eliza, Tati and Tasya were in Frankfurt attending Polaris Con. For all those of you who are interested and/or couldn’t be there, I have made some notes and written them down in two posts.

 Before you start reading, I want you to be aware that I tried my best to write everything down. However, being not a machine, I might have missed a few things.

Most of the time, I’ve only written down the most important parts of the answers that were given. Therefore, the bullet points are always a paraphrase to some degree. Yet, I tried to be as close as possible to the intended meaning.

Also, take into account that I am not a native speaker.

 For the panels: Any information that is interesting in regard to season 3, 4 or 5 are bolded.

In-between, you will find either some additional description or side notes that are more or less of personal nature. You can read it or leave it. It’s your choice.

Tagging specifically @slayyourdemonstogehter @alexthedevil @insufficient-earth-skills @echoxbellamy and @istilldothiseveryday because they asked me to or had questions that might be hopefully answered with that post.

I hope you enjoy it and without further ado, the Polaris Con Panel Post - Part I!

Expect Part II tomorrow.

 Polaris Con – Friday and Saturday

Friday, June 2nd:

 After using the Autobahn appropriately (damn you, traffic jam!), I finally got to meet @forgivenessishardforus (Sam) and @stardust-blake (Hana) in Frankfurt.

[side note: is it just me or does it really feel weird to ‘know’ people from online chats/fandoms and then meeting them for the first time in real life?]

 All three of us agreed that the organisers of the con and their organisational skills are more than questionable at this point; a fact that that will unfortunately stay true in the next two days.

To tell the full story here would take too long.  

 Anyway, we still had a tiny bit of hope that we can get at least a partial refund when we appear at the venue. [side note: Bob had to cancel, so getting our money back for the Meet & Greet should have been a given, right?]

 Registration started at 2pm and took rather long for the handful of people waiting outside. One of the reasons might have been that almost everyone wanted to have some clarification about the ridiculous rules and the vouchers they got; vouchers for things that were bought beforhand but were no longer available due to guest cancellations in masses.

 Surprise surprise, we didn’t get our money back, so we had to settle for something different. Whereas Sam had (wisely) chosen to continue her travel through Europe and to visit friends instead of going to the con, Hana and I were determined to make the best out of it.

 After accompanying Sam to the nearest train station (and my heroic deed to stop the train before leaving and getting several times yelled at by the train driver in the process), Hana and I went back to have our vouchers exchanged for another Meet & Greet (for which we had to pay additionally money due to the price difference).

 Apart from a self-made poster depicting the dropship, a button, the photos we were allowed to use for collecting our signatures, and our pass, we got a DIN5 paper with the schedule. However, said schedule would be proven to be incomplete the next day.

  Saturday, June 3rd:

 10 o’clock and no opening ceremony as scheduled. Later on, we were told that the chauffeur didn’t know where the location for the event is. Eliza as well as Tasya grabbed the first taxi of which they could get a hold of, being the determined and initiative women they are.

 Their duo panel (the only duo panel for the whole weekend!) took place some time past 11am instead of 10.30am with delay being a recurring theme the whole day.

 Eliza and Tasya’s panel:

 -         Eliza and Tasya were irritated that we didn’t have a moderator.

-         Eliza: In the finale, preparing Bellamy was Clarke’s way to deal with her knowledge about the radiation poisening, being convinced that she is likely to die because of Abby’s vision.

-         Eliza would like to play Murphy because of his complicated character.

-         Tasya would like to play Jasper because she is impressed by the character and his development throughout the seasons.

-         Eliza: Richard has a Murphy playlist to which he listens to everytime he has to shoot a scene; Eliza herself doesn’t have one but always wanted to create one.

-         On the day when they were shooting the scene of Azgeda marching on Arkadia, Tasya listened to a Rihanna song on the radio on her way to the location. She channeled the energy into playing Echo that day.

-         Some fan asked Tasya and Eliza to enact a fanfiction on stage. After some time, they stopped because it was too long tho.

-         Tasya’s and Eliza’s favourite action sequence is the fight scene between Roan and Lexa.

-         Will Echo change during the time in space because of her confrontation with technology? --> Tasya thinks so. On Earth, there has been always danger of some sort, so Echo now has the chance to be a bit more “chilled out”.

-         How do you manage to hate or have a conflict with your friends on screen? --> Eliza: The moment you’re on set and in your costume, you’re getting into character and the actor’s true personalities isn’t really present in that moment.

-         Did Clarke draw back emotionally during the seasons and has found herself again in the season 4 finale? --> Eliza: yes, especially visible in the last scene.

-         Did Clarke adapt to the leaders around her? --> Eliza: Clarke did what she thought would be the most diplomatic thing to do, by finding a middle ground between them.

-         For season 5, Tasya is most excited about seeing “who is Echo at home” (due to the lack of enemies and life theratening fights). She thinks that it would be interesting to see a Grounder find to themself in space.

-         How will the characters develop in season 5? --> Eliza thinks that Clarke will have taken on a more maternal role in a small scale by keeping her and Madi alive. It will also have softened Clarke and uncomplicated her mind.

-         Tasya has the vision of Echo watering and taking care of plants, thus going into botany. Maybe she even teaches Raven to fight with a sword and Raven will teach her to do technical stuff. How the characters will develop and live together was actually a question Bob, Chris, Olivia, Richard, Lindsey, Chelsey, and her asked themselves and discussed for a time during the shooting of the spaceship scenes.

-         Any advice when you feel self-loathing and when you experience the feeling of coming short? --> Eliza said that whenever she felt to hit rock bottom, she went back to the basics by taking one step at a time instead of tackling the gigantic mission in front of her. This also includes to take small everyday steps like waking up, making breakfast, going out to take a walk, etc.

-         Eliza had made an audition tape for a movie 1 ½ year before she got the call for The 100. She didn’t get the role for the movie and had already forgotten about it, so she was surprised about the call she received for auditioning for The 100.

-         Tasya said that the universe sometimes simply conspires to reward you for your hard work and stamina. She had auditioned for different Grounders (among them Anya), but Echo was the one she finally got. Reading the script, she was instantly fascinated about Echo’s character.

-         What kind of tattoo would they choose for each other? --> Nutella jar.

-         Tasya has a secret vault for Nutella in her trailer.

-         Which Pokémon would you be?: Eliza doesn’t know Pokémon well, so she would be the “yellow guy” (Pikachu) and fans suggested that Tasya could be Vaporeon (?).

-         If they could have 3 clones, how would they be called and which skills would they have? --> Eliza: 1.Ya 2.As 3.Queen; cooking, cleaning, fighting // Tasya: 1.The Good 2.The Bad 3.The Ugly; ninjas

-         Clarke met Madi on her travels and picked her up along the way.

-         Eliza prefers to get to know people first before giving any general advice.

-         With whom would you like to switch your life? --> Both: Jessica Harmon

-         The bear story (https://twitter.com/tasyanews/status/871139299483279361)

 The next panel was Tati’s. Here, Hana and I were a bit late because Tati’s panel for Saturday was missing on the schedule and we were getting our autograph from Chad Rook. [side note: no one really knew why he had been there but it’s likely that the Dreams Con was mingled with Polaris; and the only attendee left for Dreams Con was Chad apparently whereas the rest had cancelled. Either way, he is a cool guy and most of us felt bad for him because so many people didn’t know him and thus didn’t know what to ask during panels]

   Tati’s panel (just for the record: Tati is a literal ray of sunshine!):

-         Favourite Disney Movies: Hercules and Atlantis

-         Favourite Disney Song: Colour of the Wind

-         Personalities that inspire her: Gandhi and Cleopatra, the 7th

-         With whom did you get along the best with: Tati is very close with Chai because he is “like a big brother” to her and she cried when Ilian died on screen. She is also very close with Nadia.

-         Who did you meet first on set? --> Chai

-         With whom would she like to have (had) more scenes: Ian and Isaiah because they “bring a lot your way”, as well as Zach and Lindsey. She bonded the most with Chai.

-         How is it to work with Adina? --> Tati said that Adina is someone who “gets shit done” and as much as she jokes on Twitter, the more so she does in person. Adina is an awesome person overall.

-         Something you wish you knew before becoming an actor: how to do social media. Tati wants to talk to all her fans but doesn’t know how to reach them the best way.

-         She likes karaoke a lot and her favourite songs to sing are “iSpy” by Kyle, “Dear Prudence” by The Beetles and “Let it be” (Across the Universe Version)

-         Does she have a playlist for Gaia: “Rise” and “Weary”, each by Solange

-         For season 5, Tati hopes that Gaia will fight for her belief as she is the face of the tradition now. She added that there are “great things ahead”.

-         It was amazing to work with Adina. She is like a mother to her.

-         Gaia is jealous of Octavia when it comes to her mother but respects her at the same time for the way she managed to become close to Indra. A part of Gaia wants all of them to get along and to find a way to bring them together.

-         She wanted her mother’s love and seeing it going to someone else is heartbreaking for Gaia.

-         Tati hopes and thinks that something will happen between Madi and Gaia in season 5 due to their current roles as nightblood and flamekeeper respectivelly. Considering Gaia, Tati thinks that she will want to have another commander because Octavia has been chosen against/not in accord with their tradition and belief. Therefore, Madi might be the chance for Gaia to make things right again.

-         Tatis’s favourite Behind the Scenes took place during the filming of 4x08 when Kane, Jaha, Monty and Indra tried to get into the bunker and met the Azgeda guards. It had been 2am, it was freezing cold and everybody was delirious (especially Chris and Isaiah), and everyone was stepping on Indra’s long cloak so they had to do a lot of retakes.

-         Did you watch The 100 even before you got the role: yes, but only season 1. She watched it during her 1st year in college and loved it but wasn’t a huge fan. Later on, she binge-watched it tho.

-         Tati recommended to go to LA for doing animation arts or performance arts. NY would be better suited for artistic people because the culture there is more diverse and appreciative of it.

-         What would Gaia study if she lived today: Theology, Ancient History and Anthropology.

-         Asked for a crossover with The 100, Tati answered Supernatural.

-         What does Tati think of Lexa? --> She loved Lexa (for being focused and for her elegance) as well as Alycia.

-         What kind of roles would you like to play in the future? --> Anything that is completely different to her personality. ‘Rent’ would be a musical dream.

-         Tati thinks that social media is supposed to connect people with another but most of the time, people put up a façade. Social media has its good as well as its bad sides to it.

-         With whom will you be working more in season 5? --> Tati doesn’t know. However, she hopes to work more with Ian and Isaiah. She would have liked to have more screentime with Zach, Chai and Nadia (who is like a sister to her) if they hadn’t died. It is likely that she will have more scenes with Octavia and Indra.

-         Party tricks? --> Not really because she is socially awkward.

-         If she could choose who would she like to play in The 100, Tati would also love to be Roan, Jackson or Monty.

-         If you could, with whom would you like to have a fight scene: Roan would be “epic”. In a Roan vs Gaia fight, Gaia would win tho as she was trained by Indra.

-         Tati’s favourite book is ‘The Alchemist’ by Paul Coelho because it helped her out of a dark place and gave her a new purpose.

-         If Jasper had been your friend, would you have stopped him: Tati told us that she had a friend that committed suicide. She said that she would support that person in any way she is able to. Yet, she wouldn’t hold that person back if they really wanted to go peacefully because everyone had to decide for themselves how to live their life. She cried watching the scene with Japser and was amazed by Devon’s acting because he thinks everything through.

-         Does she do her own stunts: she does and loves to do them. She might also have more stunts next season.

-         Who would she choose to kill off in the show if she could: for Gaia it is Roan; for her, no one as it is not in her nature to want people dead.

-         Favourite type of vacation: beach trip

-         What would Tati teach a nightblood? --> She strongly believes that children are the future. Therefore, she would teach them compassion and how to defend themselves emotionally, mentally, verbally, and physically. For her, learning doesn’t and shouldn’t be seen as a chore. Because “the world is your classroom”, one should go out and make their individual experiences. There is nothing to be afraid of. Life and learning is a path with no right or wrong. Beauty is in everything if you look at it and her childlike fascination is in that regard helpful to her.

-         Advice for Gaia (or the other way round): Bent but don’t break.

-         Tati’s comfort food: Bin Bin rice crackers and macarons.

  After the lunch break,......

 Eliza’s panel:

 -         Which Hogwarts House: Eliza doesn’t know. (“Is there a test?”) Fans told her that she might be a Hufflepuff.

-         Do you know any words in Trigedasleng? --> the typical ones, followed by saying “Yo gonplei ste odon.”

-         Eliza had to learn the Trigedasleng dialogue Clarke recites before taking the Flame on the spot because it was added in the last minute. Zach, Tasya and Marie are really good in speaking Trig in contrast to her.

-         Favourite song: ‘Elusive’ by Scott Matthews; She has one line of the lyrics as tattoo (“my destiny lies in the hands that set me free”) (https://twitter.com/dailyejt/status/871866581797789697)

-         Favourite Colour: depends on mood; usually blue because of the ocean, or red.

-         Favourite episode of season 4: acting-wise the finale; it was their strongest episode yet and they all had a lot of fun with the script. With the helms, it was tough and crazy to interact with each other, so it was more lip reading than anything else.

-         Would you prefer space or the bunker? --> Eliza is terrified of space as well as claustrophobic; Clarke would love to go to space tho.

-         She would love to play Ilana from “Broad City”

-         Eliza is still in contact with Alycia. The last time they have seen each other was last year. They are missing each other most of the times due to their busy schedules.

-         Eliza’s greatest fear: being stuck in an elevator

-         Eliza’s greatest joy: her friends and family because she doesn’t get to see them often

-         Thumper was one of the hardest things she has ever done

-         A fan asked about her school project in Thailand: the project is going well thanks to the donations but it is still hard. Seeing the whole community come together to help is amazing.

-         Favourite scene of season 4: the radio scene because Clarke is now closer to her age. It also offers a calmer and more hopeful Clarke.

-         According to Eliza, Bellamy and Clarke gained back the respect they had for each other in season 1 and 2, being allies. It was also good not to have to yell at Bob all the time. (https://twitter.com/SourcesThe100/status/870991188647661568)

-         The audition for Thumper took place 1 ½ year before the movie began filming. She got the call for Thumper after they finished season 2. She had some workshops with the director in preparation for Thumper.

-         For the Netflix original “Christmas Inheritance”, she was simply asked.

-         In a real life action movie of Sailor Moon, she would like to play Sailor Moon because she could finally have those long pigtails.

-         She would like to play the Schuyler sisters in Hamilton.

-         How are the different relationships going to look like after the time jump? A lot will have changed.

-         About Thailand food, she thinks that Pad Thai is “noodle extravaganza” and she likes to drink coconuts.

-         She loves Thailand for the wonderful nature and the incredible, loving and lovely people. When she leaves Thailand after her visits, she comes always home with a different sense of what is important.

-         What could Eliza and Clarke learn from each other? Clarke could teach Eliza how to delegate, and Eliza could teach Clarke how to crack a joke ot two.

-         Eliza quit school in 10th grade because she was already working as an actress.

-         Eliza said that she would like to have more scenes with Lindsey.

-         When asked about her favourite ship, Eliza said that “she doesn’t do the shipping”.

-         About the 6 years+, Eliza said that Clarke tried to but couldn’t get in touch with her mother. Eliza gathered that Bellamy and Clarke had decided off screen that Bellamy would be in charge of the radio on the Ark ring.

-         The red streak of hair is related to Clarke’s disconnectedness.

-         The best present fans have given her was the adoption certification of a whaleshark.

-         Have Madi and Clarke a mother-daughter or a sibling relationship? Mother-daughter. Clarke might be taking on from her mother but definitely more Grounder and earth skill lessons due to their life circumstances.

-         Eliza is excited that she doesn’t have to wear a wig for season 5.

-         Favourite movie: “Almost Famous”; She is obsessed with the 60s/70s and loves Penny Lane.

-         Eliza loves the old Batman movies.

-         Playing a villain would be really cool because she never got to play one but being a bit of both (good and evil) would be fantastic.

-         Does Clarke have a sense of self? --> In season 5 for sure. Before, there was too much going on for Clarke to concentrate herself on developing a sense of self.

-         What would you do if Jasper was your friend? She thinks that it is a “loaded question” but Eliza would try to stop him. In case that she wouldn’t have succeeded, she would try to understand their motivation and hope that they are now at peace.

-         What would she have liked to know about social media before she became an actress? --> She would have liked to be mentally prepared for it because no one really tells you how it can affect you. There should be some sort of preparation, especially for young girls who can get messed up by being exposed to the public eye. It can be very invasive and it feels like they take a piece of you without permission.

-         Eliza likes the American Footbal League and sees Calden as her team. Being in Vancouver, she recently got into hockey as well.

-         Eliza doesn’t like to talk about Lexa’s death. It brought a love to many people and it’s better to celebrate the good things that came out of it.

 After the panel, it was our turn to get autographs of Tasya and Tati. However, the queue was too long and Tasya’s panel was about to start, so the organisers decided to hand out numbers so that people wouldn’t have a disadvantage for the second queue after the panel (needless to say that we never came back to use the numbers in any way).

 Tasya’s panel:

 -         Tasya does some of the stunts herself, for example the fight scenes. She actually signed up for archery lessons because she still doesn’t know how to do it and had to rely on a director on set who practices archery as a hobby. She joked that you can never know how you might need that skill in space.

-         If Echo would meet herself, they would fight each other.

-         Tasya would teach Echo how to love other people. Echo could teach Tasya how to be strong and to stand her ground.

-         Are there other projects she will stare in? --> Tasya will be part of the show “Travellers” that starts shooting in 2 days (so basically on Monday; one of the reasons she had to leave early on Sunday)

-         Favourite scene: The scene when Roan cauterizes his wound. Not only Roan and Echo, but also Zach and Tasya tried to figure each other out that day. Tasya also tried to figure out how long Echo and Roan might have known each other. For that scene, the director also gave Tasya a word of action/an operative word to help her acting in that scene. The word itself was “seduce” (Roan into wanting power).

-         Her resolution for 2017 was to stop eating anything that was made with palm oil because of all the damage that is done for retrieving it. Getting to know that Nutella has stopped using it made her really happy.

-         Tasya is part of an organisation against human trafficking called ‘Unslaved’. After being part of a film about that topic, it was important for her to get people to talk about it without being afraid of it. It is more than important to raise awareness, stop it and help those who are threatenend to become part of the system as well as those who are left alone with their experiences.

-         She got to know about her season 5 contract around the time of her birthday in February and had to stay tight lipped all the time. She was actually quite nervous during the negotiation process.

-         About who she thinks might end up together in space, Tasya joked that Echo might probably end up with Monty. A bit more serious, she added that she doesn't think Echo would stick with one of them for the whole 6 years.

-         Echo is pretty quiet and watchful in space and Tasya is curious about how Emori and Echo will adapt, given that they are Grounders.

-         Tasya doesn’t know about Echo’s sexuality, same as Echo because her duty to protect the king was the only thing that actively occupied her thoughts.

-         What would she do if Jasper would be her friend: Tasya would talk him out of it. She said that it’s a tough question and that she thinks that people respond to love which reminds people to keep fighting.

-         Whereas Chelsey and Lindsey enjoy to work out, Tasya prefers Yoga and Boxing to stay fit.

-         With whom would you want to be friends? Octavia because of her pissy attitude as well as Raven because she gets shit done and because Tasya likes her strength.

-         Asked about a possible romantic involvement between Roan and Echo, Tasya said that she believes that it was more of a “hairpulling thing” between them, stemming from their childhood days. However, given more time it might have had potential to develop into something more. In this time frame that was shown on screen, Echo and Roan were not romantic.

-         Favourite colour: purple

-         About Echo’s position within the Azgeda military, Tasya said that between season 3 and 4, Echo was promoted by Roan. Yet, she was always a spy and the most trusted by Azgeda royalty.

 Tasya and Tati autographs, the second try:

I told Tasya that it is really sad she has to leave early on Sunday. She said that she was actually thinking about not attending Sunday at all but decided against it. I mean, she has to take a flight on Sunday to be ready for filming “Travellers” on Monday and still decided to stay for at least a few hours?! That needs to be honoured with a hug! And so I came to hug Tasya (who looks like an actual model and I might stan her now for several reasons...don’t judge me!). All in all, everything went pretty fast so I didn’t get the chance to ask anything.

 Tati was a little adorable sunshine! I asked her how she likes it so far and she told me that she was really happy, said that it is her first convention and she likes it a lot so far. Another thing I asked her was if the Flamekeeper tattoo had any symbolism or meaning behind it. Tati answered no, at least as far as she knows. The most important thing was the middle of it showing the Second Dawn symbol.

 I know that Hana asked them some questions as well but I cannot for the live of me remember what it was. :/

 So far, so good. Saturday is almost over. Let’s see what Con-Sunday brings.

[avecorviidae]

Fic: Aubade - Chapter Seven

Fandom: Mob Psycho 100 Rating: M Relationship(s): Kageyama Ritsu/Suzuki Shou Word Count: 4004

Ao3 Link

As with most things, they clearly haven’t thought this through.

Still, even when they’re folded up and empty, cardboard boxes are clunky and difficult to carry on buses and Ritsu is dreading carrying them back when they’re full, so when they leave the apartment at some point in the early afternoon to pack up Ritsu’s dorm room, they only bother taking the two boxes Shou had found tucked between a shelf and a wall in one of the hallway closets. Somehow, they mutually assume that this will be fine.

And the thing is, while they’re actually packing, it is fine. Ritsu had never really bothered to unpack most of his clothes in the past year, half out of pure laziness and half out of a reluctance to properly make himself at home in the dingy yellowish dorms, so they’d all still been sitting in a duffel bag in his closet that they’d stopped to grab last night. Probably the biggest bulk of space in the boxes ends up being taken up by his rented textbooks, which are the most expensive items he possesses and are as such stored safely under his mattress. He likes to think that at the very least, he’s sleeping on top of a small fortune that he can pawn off on the black market for drug money when his life inevitably spirals out of control.

For someone who doesn’t really have that much stuff, Ritsu learns that he apparently has a lot of stuff, as Matsuo keeps drifting in and out of the room with new things that Ritsu half-remembers buying in his frantic fit of oh-god-why-are-these-people-content-to-live-in-filth that had embodied his first week in the dorms, before he’d brought everyone’s standard of living up drastically with things like dish soap and bleach spray.

More than half of the stuff that Matsuo brings in Ritsu tells him to keep, because his former roommates are dysfunctional wrecks of human beings who don’t really understand that every house should probably have its own mop bucket, and Ritsu will be buying one of his own, thanks anyways, dude, but he and Shou end up being quite proud of how economically they pack the stuff that they do take. They close up the boxes with the roll of packing tape they’d dug out of one of Ritsu’s desk drawers, feeling perfectly satisfied with themselves, and Ritsu wonders why on earth freshmen tend to show up with an entire moving truck’s worth of boxes shoved into the backs of their parents’ cars.

And then Shou tries to pick up one of the boxes.

Again, they clearly didn’t think this through.

They, much like their two boxes that they have chocked full of Ritsu’s shit, are absolutely fucking dense.

Ritsu watches with a vague sense of horror as Shou manages to wedge his fingers under the box and slowly but surely stagger to his feet, veering precariously from side to side like a thin tree in a strong breeze. There is a part of him, small but there nonetheless, that really wants to give Shou a gentle push to see if it’ll tip him over.

The rational human being part finally kicks in and he grabs the other side of the box, and although their combined strengths are still somehow meager in comparison to the Heaviest Box Ever Packed, it’s enough to steadily lower it onto the floor, and they manage to set it down with minimal trouble and only a couple of fingers crushed underneath it.

For a few moments, they both just stand on either side of the thing, Shou’s hands on his hips and Ritsu’s crossed over his chest.

“Well,” Shou says tonelessly.

“Well,” Ritsu echoes, equally so.

“We’re dumb, huh,” Shou says, eyes wide and distant in surprise as if he’s just now realized this. Ritsu nods.

-

“Ritsu,” Shou hisses half an hour later, “we’re really dumb.”

Ritsu is back on the floor, cross-legged with his chin in his hands, trying to work through a plan, so he barely spares this comment a second thought.

“Yeah,” he replies absently, considering the logistics of taking one of those rolling box-carrying things that come in moving trucks on a bus. Of course, even if they did get it on the bus by some miracle of physics, they’d still have to return it eventually, which would be a real bore, and jeez, all of this sort of thing had been way easier when they’d had Reigen to drive them around in his janky used car.

He blinks back into focus to find himself staring straight at Shou’s knees. He follows them upwards to find Shou looking down at him with an expression like he’s had a religious sort of revelation. With an oddly apt sense of comedic timing, one of the boxes floats into view behind him, surrounded by an orange-pink haze.

“Ah,” Ritsu says serenely. “We’re fucking dumb.”

-

Shou taps him on the shoulder about halfway through the bus ride home, snapping Ritsu violently out of his thoughts. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s got on a concerned frown and his eyes are questioning, so Ritsu’s guessing some of his thoughts must’ve seeped into his expression.

Shit. He hadn’t even realized he’d zoned out. Maybe moving vehicles just make me weird, he thinks, somewhat absently.

“I’m just…” he sighs, then trails off, waving his hands vaguely at the boxes on the seats across from them. Thankfully, the bus is mostly devoid of people, so they’d only received a few mildly horrified stares when they’d floated onto the bus behind the two of them.

“It’s weird,” he says finally. “That my entire life fits into two boxes and a duffel bag. That’s it, that’s everything. It just doesn’t sit right with me, that I can pick up everything that’s been mine the last year and just go.” It makes even less sense out loud than it did in his head and he feels kind of stupid for trying to articulate it, but it’s as close as he thinks he’s going to get and, well, if anyone’s going to understand what he’s trying to say, it’s Shou.

Shou squints over at the boxes for a few moments, before turning and nudging one with the toe of his shoe. “Well,” he says, tone considering, “not unless you’re gonna try and fit me in one of those boxes.” He blinks, then adds, “Or your brother. Or Pops. Or the microwave in the apartment, actually, because if we ever move out I’m stealing it.”

Ritsu sighs, but there’s no heat in it. They’re already pressed pretty close in the bus seats, touching more or less from thighs to shoulders, but he finds himself leaning a little closer anyways, feeling weirdly light in the chest when Shou’s head drops onto his shoulder and stays there for the rest of the ride.

-

Being in the apartment is weird. It feels like looking at a puzzle that’s missing every third piece, or an optical illusion where it all seems to work out logically until suddenly there’s a crucial gap and then it all falls apart. Objectively, they have most of the pieces required to make this apartment a lived-in place, but there’s something missing from everything, just one little crucial piece that should tie it together. They’ve got a stovetop and a fridge and drawers and cabinets in the kitchen, and a thousand little knick-knacks from the dorm, but they’ve got no pots or pans or spoons or spatulas, nothing that’d actually make it usable. They’ve got closets and clothes, but no hangers, so they’re both still living out of their suitcases. They need shelves for books, bags for the trash, plates and cutlery for the food.

It’s kind of driving Ritsu fucking insane.

-

It goes down kind of like this:

On day two, after they’ve recovered Ritsu’s stuff from the dorm, they stock up on basic necessities at a tiny, on-the-go sort of grocery store that they find just down the street. Paper plates, plastic cutlery and cups for now, until they can go on a big shopping trip. Milk, eggs, snack foods, that sort of thing. They realize as soon as they get home that they’ve forgotten bread, but Shou’s trying to figure out how the fuck getting new internet works and Ritsu’s preoccupied with a mysterious stain on the bathroom wall, so neither of them can really be bothered to go back and get it.

On day three, Ritsu finds Shou attempting to construct a sandwich by precariously stacking up Decidedly Not Sandwich Ingredients. He notices Ritsu leaning in the doorway and freezes, one hand still halfway between the bag of doritos and the abomination on the countertop, looking for all the world like a raccoon that just got caught pilfering a trash can. Ritsu leaves the room, takes three deep breaths, then takes Shou’s wallet and goes to buy bread.

On day four, he wakes up at around five in the morning to the sound of unfamiliar traffic outside of his window, which is getting really fucking annoying. He gently advises his mind to get the fuck over it already because they live here now, you’re gonna have to get used to that, and then decides he’ll just get some water or something and then try to go back to sleep.

In the kitchen, Shou is committing a war crime.

More specifically, he’s got a box of cereal Ritsu doesn’t remember buying in one hand and a gallon of milk in the other, and appears to be trying to pour cereal into his mouth, hold it there, then tilt his head back far enough to pour milk in afterwards.

Shou spots Ritsu mid-milk pour and spends a good few minutes almost choking to death, though somewhat impressively, manages not to spill the milk at all. As soon as he’s breathing again, Ritsu points one finger directly at Shou’s nose and says, “You. Me. IKEA. Today.”

He goes back to bed.

-

They realize that this could get somewhat complicated without a car.

See, when Ritsu’s parents had ever bought anything big from IKEA, the type that came folded up in big boxes in the terrifying warehouse before the checkout, it’d ended up in the trunk of the car, or strapped precariously to the top of the car, or crushing him and Mob in the back of the car. Point being, the car had been a constant. He and Shou are decidedly carless, and their internet isn’t set up yet, so they can’t just order stuff online. Ritsu morally objects to managing an entire furniture order on a tiny phone screen, no matter how good Shou’s data plan is.

They employ their usual solution to problems.

-

TO: DAD Dad we need help being functioning adults

FROM: DAD Who’s in hospital?

TO: DAD ………….No one??? I think????? we need to get big things from IKEA

FROM: DAD ...I see. You know they deliver, right? Like, you go to the store, tell them what you want, and then they take it in a big ol’ truck to your place. It’s on their website and everything. I swear you used to be the one with common sense.

TO: DAD I gave it to one of my professors in exchange for an A on a paper Also no internet yet

FROM: DAD Fair. Good luck, kid. Try not to kill each other when it turns out you don’t actually know how to use a screwdriver.

-

IKEA appears over the horizon like a great blue leviathan, immediately compelling the two of them into awed silence as they stare at it through the bus window.

While Ritsu’s content to look out of the window for a while, he’s inevitably drawn back to Shou, whose gaze seems to be transfixed on IKEA with just a tad too much genuine trepidation. It’s almost as if…

There’s no fucking way.

“Shou,” he begins hesitantly, “have you ever actually… been inside of an IKEA?”

Shou whips around to glare at him, a furious pink flush rising on his cheeks. You’d think someone who acts as cool as him wouldn’t be so easy to tease, he thinks with a grin, and yet.

“Shut up,” Shou hisses, trying to elbow Ritsu in the ribs, but the effect is somewhat lessened by the smile he’s trying to suppress. “Do you not remember who my dad was? He wouldn’t buy furniture from anywhere within like, a five mile radius of a place like this, he was afraid he might accidentally touch a commoner or something.”

Ritsu ignores this entirely, instead leaning close to Shou and plastering on a Teru-worthy smirk. “Well,” he says, pitching his voice embarrassingly low and doing a godawful impression of a seductive lilt, “I’m honoured to be your first, Mister Suzuki.”

It’s the kind of dumb shit Shou pulls on him all the time, so it’s incredibly gratifying when Shou immediately starts spluttering, possibly choking on his own spit, then doubling over and wheezing “I hate you,” in between hacked laughs. When Shou finally looks up, his face is bright red and there are tear tracks on his face, his grin twitching like it’s threatening to break out into another giggling fit. “Fuck you,” he says, whacking Ritsu halfheartedly in the chest, “take me out to dinner first. Buy me IKEA meatballs, asshole.”

-

As soon as they walk inside and go up the escalator into the showroom, Shou’s enraptured. Ritsu can’t blame him. Reigen had once said that IKEA contained the organized, smooth Swedish aesthetic that all Hot Messes secretly aspire to, and honestly? Ritsu is feeling it already.

Shou perches on the edge of some sleek black pleather sofa, squinting around with an indeterminable expression. After some time, he declares, “We live here now.” “They will probably try to kick us out when the store closes, you realize,” Ritsu tries to reason.

“Try,” Shou echoes, nodding agreeably.

-

When you’re a kid, you’re more likely to accept weird stuff that happens to you. Ritsu doesn’t just say this because he grew up with a brother possessed of terrifyingly powerful psychic abilities; he’s pretty sure it’s universally true. The unnatural qualities of the world seem a whole lot less noticeable when you're a little kid and the boundaries of your natural world aren’t clearly defined.

Case in point: Ritsu is just now coming to realize that IKEA is a sentient building with labyrinthine qualities.

They spend their first little while in the showroom sitting on every soft surface and staring at lamps that look like bizarre enemies from some futuristic sci-fi video game. Ritsu tries to ignore the niggling feeling that the building looked too small from the outside to have this many turns in it. Instead, he picks up one of the massive blue crinkly bags and hands it to Shou, who holds it up and says, “Hideous. Absolutely awful. I love it.” “Wow, thanks Hanazawa.”

In one of the rooms clearly designed for pre-teens, they find a bunk bed decked out in fairy lights and Shou plops down on it immediately to take selfies in the lighting. Ritsu takes the opportunity to text Teru to have a very serious conversation about comfort versus style, the subject of the argument being an armchair in a truly unsettling shade of green that sits in the corner of Mob and Teru’s living room which also, apparently, can be found in an IKEA showroom.

“It was really soft, though,” Shou points out, chin resting on Ritsu’s shoulder so he can read off of his phone. “That’s not the point,” he replies, betrayed in the deepest sense.

At one point Shou physically clambers into a bed, kicking off his shoes and crawling under the covers. He pulls the quilt up over his nose when Ritsu tries to drag him out, but he can still see the grin crinkling the corners of his eyes. “You’re gonna get us kicked out,” he says tiredly. At almost the same exact time, he looks across the showroom and sees a woman in an IKEA shirt stretched out on one of the couches, pillow over her face and fast asleep.

Ritsu toes off his shoes and climbs in next to Shou.

The bathrooms are Ritsu’s personal favourite, usually dark and aggressively sleek, the perfect style for his residual emo soul. He’s been taking pictures of the tags of stuff they’re actually going to buy, so he doesn’t quite notice where Shou’s wandered off to until he turns around from a bathroom sink and spots him in a shower stall, calling him over with a wave of his hand. Ritsu steps inside, ducking his head under the bar for the shower curtain and noting with some interest the glossy black tiles that cover the walls.

He almost startles when Shou reaches over and pulls the shower curtain closed with a flourish, leaving them enclosed in the shower stall, somehow still mysteriously lit by no lamp that Ritsu can see. He shoots Shou a questioning look, only to snort when Shou leans back against the shower wall, a hand over his heart and eyelashes fluttering.

“Why, Mister Kageyama,” he says, all false coquettishness, “Cornering a young girl like me alone in a place like this? How scandalous.” Payback for the bus, he thinks as it suddenly clicks into place. He considers giving Shou the reaction he wants, a laugh and a shove on the shoulder and possibly a comment about exactly how classy making out in an IKEA shower stall is, but the reaction he’d gotten earlier was too good to resist playing along with the joke.

He shamelessly uses his height advantage when he steps into Shou’s space, one leg between Shou’s and a hand propped casually on the wall beside his head. He leans down so that their noses are almost touching, and says low, “Well with you standing here all gorgeous like this, how could I resist?”

It’s pathetic joke flirting, some cheesy disaster line out of every old black and white movie he’s ever watched with his mother, so he doesn’t quite expect it when Shou seems to freeze, eyes wide and locked onto Ritsu’s. It’s only for a few seconds, a barely noticeable pause before Shou’s howling with laughter as he pushes past him out of the shower, but Ritsu gets caught on it, on the hitch he thought he’d heard in Shou’s breath, on the way he feels oddly wired, like his skin is buzzing from the proximity, and what the fuck had just happened?

Still, he shrugs it off as probably nothing and steps out into the bathroom after Shou. He seems to have shaken the… whatever it was off pretty quickly as well, because he turns to Ritsu with a grin and says, “Can we go back and look at those weird round chairs again?” To which Ritsu shrugs and nods, and leads them out of the bathroom–

And into a completely unfamiliar part of the showroom.

Ritsu looks behind him and squints. See, as far as he’d been able to see, that bathroom had only had one entrance and exit, that being the one he had just come out of. And logically following, the one he had originally come through to get there in the first place. So how in the everloving hell had they just walked out into new and strange territory? “Oh, this place is so fucking with us,” Shou whispers next to him, like he’s afraid that IKEA will hear him and get angry. Ritsu, irrationally sharing that fear, just nods.

-

A couple of hours in, they have a shopping cart carrying two blue IKEA bags filled with Household Necessities, probably more spoons than are strictly necessary in a cutlery set, and a toilet roll holder inexplicably called GRUNDTAL, because the Swedish are conspiring against him.

They are also both starving to death, and Ritsu hasn’t seen hide nor hair of the supposed restaurant since they arrived. Eventually they drift over to one of the huge “YOU ARE HERE” maps, which Ritsu swears changes in basic layout each time he looks at one, and heave a collective sigh when it tells them that the café is pretty much on the other side of the building. Ritsu looks from the room around him to the map a few times, trying to orient himself, but finds that it’s all for nought because Shou has already chosen a random direction and started walking.

Now, Ritsu has learned to expect that every time they turn a corner, they will encounter a room they’ve never been in before. It’s happened on literally every single turn they’ve taken since they arrived in the showroom.

He’s not exactly prepared to follow Shou around a corner and find himself face to face with the supposedly-miles-away café. He and Shou exchange a look, and Shou silently mouths “it knows” with wide eyes. Ritsu is inclined to agree, and so chooses not to ask any more questions. He’s just happy to have food.

Partially for the sake of the joke and partially for propriety, Ritsu does end up buying Shou’s meatballs, which he devours with vigor. Ritsu has a weird sandwich… thing, which isn’t bad, but tastes distinctly and weirdly European. Over a piece of some chocolate dessert cake, Shou says, “So what now? Do we have everything?”

Ritsu does a halfhearted rummage through the bags at their feet, and scrolls through the pictures of tags on his phone. Floor lamps, shelves, dressers, cutlery, plates, chairs, he mentally counts off, though he’s been doing it all day in his head. He’s pretty sure they’ve got everything and more, including all of the extra whatsits that Shou had thrown in the bags along the way. “Yep. The website says that we should flag down an employee and ask them to draw up an order, or something, that we can take down to the checkouts. That way we’ll be buying the big furniture and the delivery costs, and I think we can arrange the delivery dates and times down there.”

He frowns at the thought of going over and asking one of the employees. It’s not that he can’t, or that he won’t, but for whatever reason he feels like he’s going to make an idiot of himself by asking. Which is silly, because he’d gotten through their apartment hunt with the landlords no problem, but then he’d rehearsed for that and there was protocol and social etiquette, and he’s not sure what the procedure is for this, or if it’s even actually a thing or just something that they don’t even offer anymore and they just haven’t taken it off their website, or–

“Okay, cool,” Shou says around a mouthful of cake, inadvertently interrupting his train of thought. “Gimme your phone?”

Ritsu hands it over without thinking, and blinks when Shou is gone, halfway across the room before he can process the movement and chatting animatedly with someone in an IKEA shirt. He watches for about ten minutes as Shou scrolls through pictures on his phone, waiting for the IKEA guy to copy it onto some tablet he’s holding. The two of them walk out of view for a few minutes, and Ritsu can’t quite help the small smile on his face when Shou starts walking back towards their table, a small packet of paper held triumphantly above his head.

He allowed himself a small sigh of relief. That’s the worst of it done with, then.

-

That was in no way the worst of it. The path downstairs to the checkouts was a disaster zone full of shiny things for Shou to touch and buy, and Ritsu ends up following closely behind Shou’s heels, putting the infinite number of colourful ice cube trays and bright orange photo frames carefully back into their rightful spots.

Somehow, when they get home and start unpacking their bags, Ritsu still finds no less than three sets of one hundred tiny candles. Asshole pyromaniac.