#wanna guess how many hate comments i will receive for **checks notes**
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So apparently the "Jesus was Palestinian" bullshit is doing its rounds again, continuing the proud tradition of that fucking pink infograph from May '21 that claimed "the first Christians were Palestinians". I'm not going to go over why this is a load of racist antisemitic a-historical crap, I've already done so in the past (one, two, three, four, though I do feel I could explain it better today... but I'm not gonna do that). But I do believe we need to talk about this a little more. Not about the content of the claims, which is so unbelievably easy to refute by reading literally the first paragraph of a couple of Wikipedia articles, but the reason for the existence of the claims themselves and their structure.
We have to ask ourselves why do people need Christianity in general and Jesus specifically to be tied to the Palestinian identity and what the hell does this have to do with the I/P conflict at all? Because, here's the thing; the topic is the I/P conflict, this is our framework. And yet while talking about a war currently being waged, about cease fires and humanitarian aid, about a massacre and hostages, about politics and ideologies, out of fucking nowhere one side of the debate just throws this claim - "yeah, well Jesus was Palestinian!" / "The first Christians were Palestinians!". You might ask yourself what the actual fuck are they talking about. I mean, I could throw random sentences too, it just wouldn't be a very effective conversation, would it? So why are they saying it now in this context?
Let's go back to that OG pink infograph, because I do think it's the most revealing. "The first Christians were Palestinians". This is an equation - x equals y, first Christians = Palestinians. First is important here, it speaks of precedence, of date. Christianity as a whole and Jesus in particular are an incredibly convenient thing to date historically. They are also very ancient. This is about establishing an ancient anchor to the Palestinian identity.
But the sentence isn't actually complete, is it? There's something missing from it. A silent part at the end of it - "the first Christians were Palestinians, as opposed to Jews". This is the context. This is, and always was, about denying the history of the Jewish people. It's literally an attempt at erasing Jewishness from history itself and replacing it with a New and Improved one that is Western-Leftist Approved.
This is the single saddest thing I've ever heard in my goddam life. What they're saying, what they're actually saying, is that the Palestinian plight, suffering and right for self determination only exist if their identity is ancient enough. Ideally - more ancient than that unbelievably annoying people who won't shut up about how ancient they are. What they're saying with their "post-colonial" rotten brains, with their cruelty and their absolute wickedness, is that suffering is only worth acknowledging and fighting if it neatly fits their "colonizer/colonized" dichotomy world view. Palestinians have no right in the leftist world unless: 1) their identity is ancient enough for them to join the oppressed club, 2) the Jews' identity isn't.
And it is just so unbelievably funny. Again, I'm not going to repeat the explanation of what "Palestina" actually is, you can read my previous posts about that. What I do have to say is just how unfathomably historically funny it is to me, not just as a Jewish woman but more importantly as an archaeologist of the Ancient Near East, that they would use a Jewish man preaching Jewish things to Jewish people in the remnants of the Jewish kingdom of Judea, almost a thousand years after its establishment, barley more than a century before its final destruction and the end of Jewish autonomy in their ancestral homeland for the next almost two millennia, to establish an ancient anchor for Palestinian identity.
And by the way, when I said that Jesus and Christianity are "very" ancient - I lied. I can't begin to explain to you how "new" that is to an archaeologist of the Ancient world. I literally haven't seen the other side of the zero in like a decade. So, on top of what I said in my previous posts, along with many other people online, the thing that is even more fucking funny is how every evidence we have for the origin of the word (just the word! not the identity! which didn't exist yet!!!!) "Palestina" positions it in the Greeks' hands around 500 BCE, which is still almost 500 years after the establishment of Judea. Can you do basic math?? Can you fucking do it???
You Westerners (and non-Westerners and Palestinians to be perfectly clear) want us so badly to be foreign invaders who stole precious lands from poor little woobified natives, but we're fucking not. You are incapable of holding more than one fucking thought in your tiny little rotten minds so you try to change history, to change reality itself to fit your warped perception of the world. You do that because you hate Jews, not because you give even a tiny little shit about Palestinians. Because you don't, and you prove that every single day with every single lie that comes out of your mouth.
We are at war for maybe more than a century at this point. They killed my people, they butchered them, they literally live on the ruins of my ancestors. But I care about them because I care about everyone in the world and I am capable of looking beyond my own rights (which fucking exist) and recognize that my enemies are just as human and deserving of life and joy and safety as me. I don't need them to be more ancient than me to recognize their grief, their suffering, their right for self determination, because apparently I have a fucking heart and a working brain, something I genuinely can no longer say about most of you.
#wanna guess how many hate comments i will receive for **checks notes**#having sympathy for palestinians and recognizing their right for statehood#but **check notes again** NOT recognizing their fucking retconned version of history??#i got my fair share of hate for daring to mourn october 7th#let's see what happens now#don't even get me started on the jebosite bullshit discussion#i fucking can't#they don't exist outside of the bible!!!#but you wan't to predate jews so fucking much that you don't even seem to care about your own suffering#jewish things#israel#jumblr
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🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats No it’s rather pathetic and by that I mean abandoned
🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? Need more angst
🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you loveFUCKKK I CANT! It’s a physical copy cuz I download music
🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? 10 because I don’t do it.
🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis!!!!!!!!!! 🏚️🚪🧪🧿🛠️
🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? Uhhhmmmmm @caffeinated-eccentric-polymorph :)
🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love THE MAN DOWNSTAIRS I won’t link it BUT OG MY GODH THE gravity falls fandom can go wild.
💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now? About 2 :) not counting my other email which has 4,000.
🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis @primalshane I need your existence in every waking second of the day.
🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both? All of the above and more!!!! 🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before. about.. me? Or characters?? Oh fuck it have both- I write in my journal a lot of I/Me/My but on character ai strictly he/they/the man/it (shut up I know A.I. sucks but I can’t help myself.
🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time? The voices /hj
🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings. Sherlock secretly is touch starved and John was very gently reintroduced touch into his main diet and constantly seeks out to occasional give pats or hugs of encouragement and Sherlock just internally freaks out but has gotten used to it.
🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual? Compliment me and give me attention. Litterally you don’t understand how wild I go for this 🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now. I’m maturing at a good rate and pace, my future seems clear, I’m content with now.
📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? uhhh let me check:
I slept so damn nice on the 10th and even tho I only got 4 hours, my dreams were so colourful (metaphorically) and intriguing!!
The amount of nutrients will affect the growth of things. Spores are the way mushrooms reproduce.
🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character. John Watson isnt soft but docile.
🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? Guns :) and I’d say this ain’t weird but I don’t think the fbi agent likes me opening 20 tabs of gun info. Didn’t even get to use any of the shit I learnt. 🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on. THE KISS OF THE DIVINE WILL ALLOW YOUNTO CREATE POETRY UNLIKE NO OTHER AND YOUR HAND WILL NOT BE YOURS BUT THE WORDS WILL BE! Or do you mean in general oh god I presumed you meant writing.
❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? IDFK MAN IVE BEEN SEARCHING FOR YEARS ☹️☹️☹️☹️ 🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity 🙂 KILL YO- ahem. Just don’t write. Simple as. you have high expectations but that gets you nowhere, allow yourself to relax.
🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh. I guess we doing —— now.
🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? A psychoanalysis of how I wrote it.
🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate. Idk man. No one comes to mind.
🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told? That I would kms, but in reality it’s just the only way to express the depth that I am pained by in a way that properly reflects other people’s kindness idfk
🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately. Fuck oh duck oh fuxk oh duxk oh fuck!!!! Uh umh hnh uhhhhhm I really wanna experience more mortal pains, both psychological and also temperature wise and also blood.
🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? SHERLOCK HOLMEs, ILY ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE!!!!!
🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing. Fuckkk uhhh.. I’m perfect ! Okay but maybe take into consideration how much I ACTUSLLY stay on topic, which is nice for stories if I stray but in reality a bit annoying to read.
🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises? Depends on the execution.
🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here. later
☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? well my ao3 I went by something like LifeNdeath “life and death” and then changed to LifeNreality and now I just have a habit of making usernames start with LifeN and just whatever the site is for, so here, I am a concept :)
🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them. Fuckkk idk man uhhhhh @primalshane best creature on earth that I deeply care about and wish for goodness to seek them out yipppeee.
🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them. I do!
I love to bully him
🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it. Too many answers for this so I got no answer for this.
🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately? Any sort of kink or fetish although I’ll turn a blind eye if it’s blood/knives/sadism/masochism.
Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game
🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats 🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love 🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? 🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis 🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? 🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love 💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now? 🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis 🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both? 🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before 🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time? 🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings 🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual? 🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now 📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? 🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character 🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? 🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on ❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? 🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity 🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh 🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? 🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate 🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told? 🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? 🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing 🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises? 🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here ☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? 🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them 🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them 🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it 🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?
#ask game#writers on tumblr#writers ask game#writer ask game#author ask game#writing ask game#ask me anything#About me#my eepy ramblings#pinned post
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Tag Game
I was tagged by @simonxriley thank you!!
1: Why did you choose your url?
Because I love Nightwing and I figured he deserved someone to sweep him off his feet for once. And considering what DC had done to him...he needs a hero, let’s be honest.
2: Any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.
I don’t have the organization capabilities to do that, to be honest. I’m organized but in my own, chaotic way. Ideally, I would have set blogs for specific fandoms I have OCs for, to try and spread it out a bit (putting SOA and PB together, making a specific one just for Dragon Age, etc), but that would take time and energy that I don’t honestly have.
3: How long have you been on tumblr?
Uhhhhh...I’ve been on and off over the years, but I guess I’ve been active since the summer of 2019.
4: Do you have a queue tag?
Yes! It’s “i queue you pikachu”, because I wanted to do something clever and I thought it was cute. Plus, I love Pokemon. It’s easier for me to have a queue because I’m just not as active as I used to be. My lack of being able to message back shows that. But I do my best to somehow navigate the dumpster fire of my blog and dash.
5: Why did you start your blog in the first place?
I was bored, needed something to focus on, and such. I hate Facebook, don’t really use Snapchat or Instagram, and I steer clear of Twitter, so I said “ehhh, why not?”
6: Why did you choose your icon/pfp?
Honestly, it’s one of my most cherished commissions I’ve gotten, and it’s Wren and John...and Wren is like, one of my favorite OCs I have. And just seeing her in her Nemesis glory with John is just...peak her and it makes me so damn happy. @witchesconstellation did such an amazing job with her, I may or may not have cried a bit when I got it. So much symbolism and such gorgeous colors. I don’t know if I ever really wanna change it, to be honest. That might be my icon for the unforeseeable future.
7: Why did you choose your header?
Also a cherished commission I received from @savbakk for Wren’s dark baptism! A favorite scene of Wren’s canon that was brought to life beautifully and I still can’t stop staring at it, so it stays as my header. I smile every time I go to my page.
8: What’s your post with the most notes?
I think it’s my Judgement post with the Nemesis commission? I haven’t really checked, but I wanna say that it’s that one.
9: How many mutuals do you have?
I genuinely have no idea.
10: How many followers do you have?
I haven’t really checked, probably more than I deserve lol.
11: How many people do you follow?
Uhhhhh....too many....
12: Have you ever made a shitpost?
Sure have! And it probably won’t be my last.
13: How often do you use tumblr each day?
Mostly every day. Sometimes I’ll go a few days without it though.
14: Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?
With a blog? Eh, no, not really. But I’ve been caught in discourse and have ran into my fair share of fandom bullies, that I just learned to block and focus on me and my own content. Because it makes me happy and that’s all that should really matter, right?
15: How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?
That’s like someone driving behind me and riding my ass to make me go faster. It’s not going to happen, in fact, I will absolutely drive slower because of it. It’s unfortunate, most of the time, I would normally reblog them until that little comment pops up and I’m just....sigh.
16: Do you like tag games?
Sure! They can be fun and I love being tagged!
17: Do you like ask games?
Absolutely, I do. I welcome asks regardless.
18: Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?
I feel really bad for saying it, but I don’t really pay that much attention? Like, I genuinely support y’all, and you guys have killer content. You’re legendary to me, but I don’t really know the popularity level they have. I know I have a few close friends that have very well-known ocs though. I don’t know if that counts.
19: Do you have a crush on a mutual?
No, not really.
20: Tags
@strafethesesinners @water-writings @playstationmademe @witchofinterest @chyrstis @iamnotyourmusebitch @minilev @smithandrogers @jackiesarch @glowwormsmith @geronimo-11 @johnsrevelation @adelaidedrubman @clairercdfields @athenalillystar @foxyb0xes @shellibisshe @skitzo-kero and anyone else who wants to share!
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Fic Writer Interview
I was tagged by @endae <3 I throw this under a Read More since it's a little long.
How many works do you have on AO3?
23 (wow that's so much more than I had thought)
What’s your total word count on AO3
215,893 jesus fucking c-
How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
Marvel, Miraculous Ladybug, Gravity Falls, Danny Phantom, Star Wars So 5. 5 fandoms
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Top to Bottom: Premiere Night With a Large Popcorn and a Side of Eye-Rolling (Miraculous Ladybug), Tactility (Star Wars/Mandalorian), Tell Him (Gravity Falls), A Matter of Time (Gravity Falls), Catharsis (Gravity Falls).
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I try to. I think I've only ever not responded to a couple comments, and that's because they either 1) came from a non-registered user, so I knew they wouldn't see my response, or 2) it was just a "Kudos" comment or something along those lines that I appreciated but maybe didn't have the time or drive to respond to. But all comments are appreciated, and I do respond to the majority of them. I like engaging with my readers and letting them know I appreciate them sharing their thoughts about my work.
What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
I mean I straight-up kill Stan in Their End, so that'd probably be up there for that reason. But I still think Tell Him had a certain level of foreboding to it that made it pretty angsty (and as popular as it apparently was).
Do you write crossovers? If so, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever written?
I don't write crossovers, haven't really found a plot for one that's excited me yet.
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
I... don't think so... Not that I can think of right off the bat.
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I have not, but I am... not as opposed to it as I used to be. I still don't think I ever will, but I blame my current affinity for pretty helmeted Star Wars men for the fact that I'm not vehemently opposed anymore. But again, not sure I ever would, but will clarify that if I ever wrote it, it would not be posted through this blog/account because this blog is non-explicit, I would make a side account for it.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not as far as I know.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yeah! DaraDjinn (don't know why Tumblr isn't letting me tag her) translated a couple of my GF fics to French a while back! Catharsis, Scars, and I Dreamt of Fire! Was super psyched when she asked me if she could do it!
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I have not.
What’s your all-time favorite ship?
I'm not very big on ships at the moment (aside from reader insert stuff, obviously, haha), but way back in the day, I really liked FrostIron (Loki x Tony Stark). It was one hell of a dynamic and really popular. Stucky (Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes) was a close second.
What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
I'm not gonna say A Matter of Time, I'm not gonna say it and put those words out into the ether because I want to finish it I'm just trapped in Star Wars hell right now, but I'm also well aware of what happens when I latch onto a new hyperfixation, I can't maintain two of them, and I hate that because I really wanna finish AMoT and I know there are a lot of you out there that want me to finish it tooooooooo.
What are your writing strengths?
The two things people compliment me on all the time are the flow of my writing and my characterization. I personally love my writing flow, so I'm super glad when other people seem to like it too. When it comes to writing in-character, it's always a big fear of mine, but then I get comments of people gushing over how in-character things are, so that's reassuring and validating af.
What are your writing weaknesses?
I have one hell of a time with anything action-y (which is why... I don't write it a lot, haha). Fast-paced motion is really hard for me to nail down, especially when I like to hammer down details, so the necessity to get through things fast while still maintaining a clear picture of what's happening??? Difficult af.
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
I think it completely depends on the situation, both in the fic and in real life. With respect to the fic, if you're writing dialogue in another language, it better be 100% in-character and not awkward. Like, too often you see people dropping in other languages either to use as petnames or to have a "oh oops sorry I accidentally switched languages" which gets... very near that unrealistic trope and can sometimes even come across as fetishizing??? So, like, it better be in-character and within reason. Bear in mind that if you're writing in another language, you better have a translation readily accessible, probably in notes (which, is still annoying because either you have to scroll down to see what they said, or you have to just keep reading not knowing... which, if you're not supposed to know, then alright I guess, but if it's a full conversation that you're supposed to be in-the-know on, it's annoying). With respect to your real-life situation, if it's a language you are personally not fluent in, you better be finding someone who is to run things by them. You can really ostracize your readers and take them out of your story if they speak the language and you say something taboo or blatantly incorrect because you just used Google translate. So, have someone who knows the language double-check your stuff, make sure it all reads correctly. TL;DR: Be tasteful and smart if you really feel the need to do it. Remember you're putting more work on the readers, so it better be worth it. And make sure you have someone check your work if you're not fluent in the language.
What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Pokemon, back in like 3rd or 4th grade.
What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?
I'm still proud of Catharsis, it was my first real delve into very introspective writing and flow, and it's a way of writing that I really enjoy slipping into every once in a while now. Also a lot of really nice descriptions and metaphors and motifs that I'm still very happy with to this day. More recently, I'm proud of Tactility, more for what it did for me rather than the fic itself. Well, I mean, I'm proud of the fic, it was my first delve into the Mando fandom and it got a lot of positive reception, it was exactly what I wanted it to be and came out exactly how I wanted it, especially in the short timeframe that I wrote it. But I'm just... very happy that I did it because writing reader inserts always felt very taboo for me. I've actually written a few before, all of them PG and very tame for different fandoms, but I've always just been... too nervous to post them? And this was the first one I actually felt comfortable posting and wanted to put out there, and it sort-of let me feel more comfortable with it and encouraged me to keep doing it, which I'm happy about because writing reader insert fics is so fun and I'm glad I feel comfortable enough to enjoy it openly now.
Uhhh I'll tag @bunniesofsteel @anistarrose @3hobbitsinatrenchcoat and anyone else who wants to do it, you can say I tagged you :)
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34. Ivory
Previous Trigger Warnings for mentions of underage/revenge porn, mentions of eating disorder Word Count: 8388
Between Grace making that post of her rapping along to Captain Hook, her saying "aye aye" to Simon in comments, and this photo of Simon's D print in the gray sweatpants, I'm starting to think he's packing a curve 👀
Simon Laurent "liked"
Commenter: He is! Did you never see the old sex tape?
Poster: The WHAT? No… But, wait… I thought that they dated in school. You mean like something that happened after that?
Commenter: They were in school, but it was online for the longest time before she snitched, so I’m sure somebody still has it out there…
Poster: That’s gross. I’m not that desperate to see it that I wanna look at some kids doing it. No thank you.
Simon Laurent “liked”
Commenter is blocked by Simon.
.
Grace was in the grocery store with her mother and brother, and Zasha, a white samoyed puppy that Mrs. Monroe had purchased from a breeder… to potentially train to be in competitions, and Zasha’s handler. Why did Mrs. Monroe bring Zasha into the store, just to have someone else hold her? For the same reason that the nanny was also there, tending to Montanus. “Because, that is literally what I pay them to do.” But… we’re at the grocery store and didn’t even have to BRING them! Grace didn’t argue.
However, she did wonder if she was suffering from some type of weird mid life crisis, or just a rich, bored woman whose husband was working more and more all of the time, despite supposedly getting closer to retirement. Then, she wondered if they weren’t doing so well. But, she kept those wonders to herself, as it would frighten her to know whatever the truth was if it was anything other than her mother did whatever she wanted because she could afford to.
Plus, she wanted to get out of the house, and apparently that had been reduced to tagging along with Grace at the grocery store, in case she needed help. “You’re almost 6 months, correct? How has it been? Online, one would swear that you’re Diahanne Caroll in her prime. You’ve rarely broken a sweat. Is that for your fans?”
Grace shook her head and read the label of something before putting it into her cart, “I haven’t had any problems, except for eating way more than I used to and getting gas, but those calcium chews usually help with that and I bounce right back. You know, I’ve always taken really great care of myself, think things through and pay top dollar for the finest self care. I guess that the baby is pleased with their temporary temple.” She smiled at her mom and noticed the woman looked leery. “I know… you had a very rough pregnancy with me. Believe me, I remember this fact, but I haven’t been having that experience, personally. In fact… Did you know that I’ve gained THOUSANDS of new followers since they’ve seen that I was pregnant. Pregnant people have been asking me what I use for this and for that and I’ve been plugging my brand, since we’ve got the pregnancy line now. It’s been sensational. I’ve had a blast!”
Grace had been working on a blog about her pregnancy, which she began with a video addressing all of the questions to all of the people who were not her.
“Hey, Those That Are Graced!” She’d cheered into the camera, “Happy New Year! I know that I’ve been unavailable to reach out too, and believe me, I do miss interacting with fans and followers, but I am currently not working on my career, to focus on other things in my life. Just to touch base with everyone, I feel like we’ve had this discussion before and those of you who actually respect me would definitely not need it repeated, but there have been so many new faces of possibly unfamiliar followers that I am revisiting notes that I have in all of my bios…
First, my professional life is one thing, my private life is another. I extend myself professionally, and over the past few months, even though I have not actually been working, I’ve still been spending time providing everyone with content. Please do not send messages, comments, or questions for me to any of my friends, and especially not to my family members, Hazel in particular. She is 12 and shouldn’t have adults bothering her for information that not only isn’t her concern, but isn’t your concern. She wants to be able to enjoy the limited hours of screen time that she’s allowed. That becomes difficult for her when people are asking her hundreds of questions that literally are related to her mother’s sex life.
Second, my professional life is offered at my discretion, as well. Whenever there is product that I think you should try, I will announce it. If I’m not familiar with a product or no arrangements have been made for me to try a product or I’m unaware of a product… my comments is not the place for said product. That is including everything from your all natural care supplies, book recommendations, your demos, your dance videos… Like… I LOVE receiving those things, but whenever I open my comments back up, that is not where those things go.
I have links for email addresses for avenues of business, entertainment, etc on my website, and if nothing else, my website is featured on every form of social media that I have. I am the person who goes through those emails. I am NOT the person who checks my social media messages, so you will never get a response from me through those and run the risk of me not seeing something if you send it there instead.
Third, my spaces have boundaries and moderators to enforce those boundaries. Whenever you’ve been allowed to be a guest in any of my spaces or my child’s spaces, you treat that shit like Afropunk - “No sexism, no racism, no ableism, no homophobia, no fatphobia, no transphobia, no hatefulness.” And then, since I’m not Afropunk and I have even greater needs, and can’t believe I have to say this much else: No pedophilia, no inappropriate interactions with a minor, no incestuous ideation, and no nudity. My moderators are quick, but not perfect. Your fellow guests and neighbors in my spaces should never have to see jokes about my mother and I engaged in sexual acts together, or worse, my UNDERAGE daughter, and no - Hazel and I posting a dance video is not an invitation for someone to make comments that because she might be fluid in her movements that it is sexually suggestive and if ever we find one of those headass posts where you put a photo of my beautiful daughter up, say something obscene or rude or ask, “Thoughts?” Simon finds out your IP address, sometimes more than that and he doxxes your ass. Ask around. If threats of violence or suggestions of harm are given… he might show up at your house and I don’t know what to even tell you about that one, because I’m not at liberty to say, according to the lawyers.”
She smiled, relaxed, unclenched her teeth that she realized had been clenched since she began her greater needs.
“Fourth, leave Hazel alone. She isn’t going to add you, because she is not allowed to add adults that she does not know. If you follow her public figure pages, those are for her poetry, her brand, her rapping, her artwork, her theater program, and whatever announcements she wants to share with her fans about her personal life, which is usually vague and innocent. If Hazel posts that she had a great time at the premiere of some movie, that is not the place to ask her personal questions. The place to ask her personal questions is nowhere! We don’t have a space created for strangers to ask her personal questions. She sometimes will be allowed to grant an interview, in which she will answer a professional about appropriate questions that have been approved.
Fifth, shut up about Simon! Shut up about Simon! I swear to you… In the past few years that Simon and I have been in communication and the ones that we’ve been in close communication, I KNOW that you realize that we are communicating, but that falls under my private life, which I have not created a space in the public for.
Now… you may speak with Simon about whatever things he speaks about in his private life, I can’t control that, but what I can control and do control is what he will or won’t say about me, even in HIS space. Yes. I got it like that, and what will happen, is Simon will be seeing this, and he is very good at remembering details and he will memorize everything that I’ve said here and he will respect that and enforce it, even in HIS space.
Which leads me to my last thing… There’s a lot of Esmoroth fanfolk in my spaces now and you all act a certain way in your little Esmoroth corner of the Internet… but in here, in Grace’s space, you better act like you’ve been tossed to the feet of the Idol Princess when her pheromones are igniting the internal flame of servitude. Because, we stan the Idol Princess in this space, and you’d better act right.”
After the release of the 3rd book and return of the Idol Princess aka the Future Queen, several fans were disappointed and had called Simon out for “pandering.” But, several MORE fans came around. He was competing for top spots with the YA novel greats after the 3rd book. But… that also meant more fans to be in Grace’s business.
Her New Year’s announcement remained pinned at the top of her page and the next post was text, “Oh, yeah. Last but not least, you may have noticed that I’m pregnant. I’ll be featuring some of my favorite findings on my maternity journey here, so please stay tuned if you’re pregnant, expecting, or planning, for what I think and hope will be some helpful tips for your journey!”
Most of the Esmoroth fandom didn’t like her very much, but they also “just couldn’t stay away. Aside from the Grace in Maternity blog, she still didn’t have social media open for commentary, though she did sometimes pass through Simon’s or Hazel’s comments and engaged a little bit with them. She pinned the video to other sites and then just didn’t really visit them again much.
“I could barely walk whenever I was six months pregnant. I had the finest of everything, too,” Mrs. Monroe broke into her thoughts. “Then again, I had what they now call an eating disorder for several years. I… wasn’t completely… well whenever you were announced…” she looked guilty, like she did whenever she faced her own failures as a mother. “We had to get a 24 hour nurse to keep me… healthy. By seven months, I could hardly get out of bed.”
Grace furrowed her eyebrows, “Mom… you’ve never told me that you had an eating disorder. Did you ever get help for it?”
“Help? Oh… like… whenever I had to be rushed to the hospital multiple times? Yes. I got help.”
“MOM… Did you ever heal?”
“Wait, are you asking me if I have disordered eating now? Heaven’s no, Grace. I was trapped with your father by the time you were born. I eventually realized that I had to be more… alive and well than I did flawless. We hired a nutritionist and personal chef.”
“Mom… a lot of people need psychological help for something like that.”
“And I come across to you as ‘a lot of people’? Hmph. It’s pathetic enough that I allowed myself to be so weak. I wasn’t going to beg someone to give me the strength I needed.”
“That’s not what it’s like at all…” Grace cupped her mother’s face and said, “There may be things that people need to help you with, Mom. That doesn’t make you weak or whatever else you’ve convinced yourself of. It didn’t make me weak when I needed to get help. It doesn’t make Hazel weak when she needs help…”
Mrs. Monroe waved Grace’s hands off of her face, “As long as you’re fine, have no other concerns.”
“Mom…”
“Were you done with the shopping?” Grace sighed and continued moving.
.
Simon was pacing, clenching and unclenching his fists. Several of the message boards, every one of his social media platforms, and even at least one of Hazel’s. He’d taken her devices away, but now she was angry and he certainly couldn’t find the words to explain beyond, “You can’t be online right now.” She was scribbling aggressively in one of her paper journals, and fuming. They both were fuming from different but related reasons.
Grace came in with her little shopping entourage and Hazel rushed to her, furiously.
“Your BOY TOY took my devices DURING screen time and REFUSES to give them back!” Grace’s eyes went wide and she turned to look at Simon, who was pacing and didn’t even seem to hear the accusation, notice that she came in or to see Monty. Something was absolutely wrong here.
“Help get the groceries and I’ll get your devices, okay?” Grace said and cupped her chin. Hazel was still breathing heavily as she stormed out towards the groceries and Mrs. Monroe settled on the couch. Grace took Simon’s hand and he was startled by her sudden touch. But, the moment he realized it was her, he let out a deep breath and wrapped her up in a tight hug. “Hey. Let’s go talk, okay?” She suggested, rubbing his back. He nodded his head, but didn’t move from the spot or lessen his hold on. She squirmed a little bit and said politely, “Oxygen, Gray Eyes..” He let up and rushed out of the room. Grace followed and watched him flop on the bed and cover his face with his fists. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“We’ve been doing SO well…” He said, shaking his head.
“We have.” So, this is something that he did wrong? “And the only way that we continue doing well is to be open and caring with each other.” He slicked back the wild hairs that weren’t pulled into his ponytail. He appeared to be in a lot of pain, but she had to get whatever this was settled. “Should I go online? Will I see what happened, if I do?” She pulled out her phone, mumbling, “I’m guessing that’s why Hazel’s stuff was confiscate-” He snatched the phone from her hands and she let out a yelp, both at the audacity and the fact that she didn’t even see him get up.
“No. I have to tell you. You can’t find out on the Internet. SHE can’t get on. She CAN’T!”
“Why can’t she? Because, she’s pretty pissed and it IS her screen time…”
“Because, the internet is relentless and unkind, and she’s too young to have to deal with how much. Not today. She’ll… I’ll… give her extra time once it's died down.”
“Tell me what’s going on, Simon.”
He frowned, “Someone brought the tape up.” At first, she was confused. Was this something about the movie? Why would he be so upset as to take Hazel’s… “And it’s recirculating again. I’ve been reporting it and fans have been reporting it and it gets taken down, but more and more people have seen it now and it’s just… too much. I don’t want her to run into it…” NOW, she understood. That tape… which… technically… it was done with a webcam, so it was never a tape, it was a recording, but… “I saw it again… not watched it, but you know, saw a portion of it whenever I was reporting it… God…” He sat down on the bed, “You’re a kid, Grace. You had the rounded face and everything…”
“Ummm… You’re a month and a day older than me, Dude.” she said, sitting down, trying to pretend that she was more calm than her heart was allowing. She could barely breathe, thinking about the feelings that just mentioning that used to bring up for her. She wasn’t sure how she might react to seeing it come up somewhere. But, maybe she should try…
She gently took her phone back, despite his struggling. One stern look and he let it go, realizing that she was determined and he was probably already in a lot of trouble, if something had been triggered. She nodded, “Yep, looks like a few people have tagged me, asking me if I saw that somebody posted it…” She went to the video and he clenched the bedspread, moving his legs uncontrollably and looking straight ahead. “You know, a lot of people used to say that you couldn’t see your face in it, that it was out of frame, but it does come into frame a few times…” she said. She paused, “See?” He shook his head. “Simon, you’re not even gonna indulge me a little bit at a time like this?”
His frown deepened and he took another long breath. She was right. SHE was the victim in this. The least he could do was take a look at his disgusting handiwork. He saw himself and he recoiled. “You were a kid, too,” she said. “Sure, at the time, this hurt more than anything my brain can recall. But… I do know, as a grown ass woman, you were wrong and also were a child. Both of those things can be accurate.”
“We’re only a few years older than Hazel, there. If some kid did something like this to her… I would…”
“I would hope that you’d remember that you were their age once and just as bad.”
“Is… is that how you would react?”
“Oh, hell no. I’ve never done anything like this. I’d kill that fucking kid. But, you would have to be the adult that fucking pulls me off of him…” She laughed and scratched at his beard, “But, nothing like this will happen to Hazel. She’s a good judge of character and we know all of her friends.”
“Your parents knew me too, and I think that they’re pretty good judges of character. Your mom at least. She always knew that I was rotten.”
“No she didn’t! She knew that you weren’t rich, and in her head those two things were the same thing. She knew that you were controlling, and she thought that I was going to sacrifice myself for you, but she didn’t think that you were going to straight up try to assassinate my entire character.” He looked away from her, “And NOW, you are very diligent in making sure that you aren’t crossing any lines, with me and with Hazel, my mother, my father, and I think people in general. This wasn’t long enough ago that it’s not hurtful to think about… but it was long enough ago to not beat yourself up over. But… It is a burden that you designed. So, it’s only right that you explain to Hazel exactly why she shouldn’t be online right now.”
Hazel took it so much better than she had taken him taking away her computer and phone. “Are you serious? I’ll just avoid social media. You KNOW I don’t wanna see anything like that, myself, but I already knew that it existed out there somewhere.” She shook her head, “I don’t like the way you look with clothes ON, think I’d run the risk of seeing you without them?”
Grace suggested, “Is there anything else you want to say to him? Maybe about how you broke the news to me when I got home?”
“Oh..” Hazel flared her nostrils and rolled her eyes, “Sorry I called you Mom’s Boy Toy… You kinda are, but I shouldn’t say it…”
Simon laughed, mostly because he was relieved that she wasn’t scarred by him having to talk to her about this video resurfacing. “You kidding? I’m gonna put that on a t-shirt.”
“No cap? Because I have SO many where that came from.”
“We’ve gotta brainstorm.”
“Simpsona T-shirts can be your new thing…” And just like that, Grace watched them be best friends again. Hazel could get mad and stay mad for a long time, but she didn’t like to argue, so even whenever she got mad, she tended to stay to herself until she wasn’t. The two of them left to go sit on the swing set outside of the house they were renting, and Grace sat by her mom on the couch.
“I don’t even want to know what that was about.”
“Cool, because I wasn’t gonna tell you.”
“You don’t have to. One of your “boy toy’s” fans will.” Grace laughed and then threw her head onto her mom’s shoulder. The woman gasped at first, taken aback by the show of affection, but then placed her hand on Grace’s. “You’re a very good mother to both of them. You’ll be a good one to that one too.” she pointed her free hand at Grace’s belly.
“Did you just…?”
“Come on, you’ve been raising yourself a man since you met him and I’ll stand by that forever. Might get it engraved on my headstone.”
Grace cackled, “I absolutely AM NOT raising him!”
“He is literally a life sized puppy that went through a rebellious phase where he kept biting you!”
“Well, I finally realized that I have the power to curve that behavior… and trust me, Mom… It’s not something you’d do with somebody you’re raising.” Grace stuck her tongue out.
“Get off of me you scoundrel!” Her mother joked. Grace just laughed and held on tighter. The woman put her arm around her. “Are you okay, Darling?”
“Whenever I was hurt or scared as a little girl, I was more afraid of admitting it to you and Daddy. I would be more hurt by the thoughts of how little you would think of me if I openly showed imperfection. Not feeling that way took a long time and a lot of work. So, now, if I have a hard day, I’m not too proud to lay on my mommy and say so.” She looked to gauge her mother’s reaction. She was always speechless whenever Grace got emotional.
She’d never learn past those suppressing ways and it amazed Grace that her mother didn’t realize how much her and Simon were alike in that way. Simon had to work really hard at it and her mother was too proud and pampered to put in such effort. But, whenever Grace booped her nose, the woman’s eyes flickered amusement, ever so slightly. Now, she pushed Grace off of herself and opened her arms to receive Montanus. “Take a photograph of me with my children,” She told the nanny. “One with the two human ones, then we’ll add the new fur baby…”
.
She still hadn’t made any announcements about her status with Simon, nor had she spoken about her pregnancy outside of the maternity blog by the time Valentines’ Day rolled around. But, one thing that she did was allow for Simon to share maternity photos. That was her “gift” to him.
There. Were. Tons.
Simon took photos of everything. He had a copy of every ultrasound. He had an electronic journal of every detail that came up. So, whenever he posted the album “Countdown to Ivory’s Arrival,” he had more photos than most of the fans were probably going to look through. Therefore, he left many of them private, with only close friends able to view, and the ones that were public were his favorites of the candids of Grace being pregnant and gorgeous, some of the ones from photoshoots that she would post, and the professional maternity photos that they had taken so far. They took some each trimester, as a family.
The ones at her three month mark were taken in New York, early November (around their anniversary, whenever he was in town. They had fall colors and all three of them were absolutely stunning. Hazel was impressed with how well that Simon cleaned up, so much that whenever he showed her older photos of himself, she thought he was a different person. She had no idea how right about that she was. Simon being both subservient and also a mega diva himself was absolutely salivating every time Grace did something, but also, it was him who insisted, "We have to have a photoshoot each trimester, each with a different theme.” She agreed on the trimesters, but wasn’t feeling the theme part so much. She told him that they could simply have the season be the theme.
They had three changes of outfits for each set. Grace had a gown made much like the one that she had worn to the fall festival in 9th grade (the one that the Idol Princess’ gown was very heavily based on, the one that Simon had taken photos of her in, getting her first beauty deal underway), one that Simon saw her in and immediately began crying. “You’re… gonna ruin the photos,” Hazel told him.
There were candid ones of him crying. Her favorite was one where he was crying, Grace was trying to comfort him and Hazel dropped in front of them, bombing it with a prison pose and her tongue out. She had on a yellow pantsuit with fall leaves in her hair, her signature look being wearing leaves in her hair. Simon’s yellow suit was similar to hers, but way more expensive and the red accents, instead of the orange ones that Hazel elected.
The orange outfits were Hazel in orange overalls, Grace in a romper and Simon in a jumpsuit that Hazel insisted was “the most expensive prison wear in the world.” The red ones were regal matching dress attire, Grace in a two piece dress to show off her belly, Hazel in the same floor length evening gown, but one piece, and Simon in a red suit, made of the same material. Hazel’s hair was down and flowing. Grace’s was gathered up, with most of her afro pulled forward, cascading out of the jeweled red head dress she wore, and Simon’s usually (these days) flowing hair was pulled into a ponytail, with the undercut showing. He was generally self conscious about it, but Hazel put little red jewels over his scar, so even though he was still anxious about his hair, he was proud of her accessorizing enough that he wanted to confidently show it off.
The six month ones were taken in January, and done in all white, which Hazel said, “Looks fabulous on mom and me, but you look like the abominable snowman,” to Simon, on the day of. They were in California by that time, but took a little trip to the mountains because the Monroes had property there that Simon remembered had beautiful scenery that he wanted to have family photos at.
They did all white shots and winter blues.
Whenever Simon posted them on Valentines’ Day, Hazel joked in the comments, “I still say that we need to crop your face out.”
People loved the maternity photos, noticed that Grace did NOT have any on her page and she didn’t comment or react to any on Simon’s page. (Yes, these people pay entirely too much attention to the lives of celebrities that they didn’t even KNOW), but someone did some investigating and found Grace’s pregnancy blog. So… even though that was mostly a completely different following, others stormed into the space, thinking that FINALLY, some place where Grace has actually been interacting and will interact with us. She literally ignored anybody that wasn’t asking about helpful tips for their own pregnancy or giving her helpful tips and the title changed from, “Grace in Maternity” to “Y’all Can See This is a Mommy Blog, Right?”
A few people were seething, but funny enough, Grace’s faithful mommy following were more along the lines of, “Wait… You’re FAMOUS, Monroe Mommy???” After that, she had a hoard of moms check out her other life. She enjoyed having more of them in her fan base, though she also had a lot of ones who had always known being like, “Y’all seriously didn’t know Grace Monroe?” and her favorite quote ever on that blog, “Hell, her album is the reason I AM pregnant!!!”
Meanwhile, Simon had been less likely to play around with any of the fans ever since the video thing. He’d made that very clear, and then sort of stopped interacting with them. He didn’t even go through to like people’s comments anymore. Some of them would say things like, “Whoever resurfaced that video, if we find you, it's on sight for making Simon hate speaking with us!”
Sometimes a person would “Lol” and contend, “He’s too busy working on the Esmoroth movie. He’s not here because of the movie not some fuzzy sex tape from years ago.”
Those were the only ones that he’d respond to just to say, “No, they’re right,” and nothing else.
He wasn’t as busy on the Esmoroth movie as he intended to be. He was working on more tech and models for the movie than any other movie things. For one thing, the script was being adapted, and casting was hard. The casting director wanted to get a different type for the Idol Princess, but Simon was extremely firm and clear that the Idol Princess HAD to look exactly as described in the book. “There are parts of the story that are directly related to her looking the way that she does.”
“We can adjust those parts,” the director had said, hoping to appease him.
“The Idol Princess looks like my childhood best friend. Her look is non negotiable,” he had told them. They didn’t believe in non negotiable, apparently, because the girls that were being considered were all much too light. Whenever Simon had rejected them all, they informed him of those girls’ filmographies and their agents and other people said agents represented.. “Maybe they have that type of record because people are hiring them for roles that were meant to be for someone else. Just… give me all of the call sheets for girl characters who auditioned.”
He went through and disqualified half on looks alone (not to say that they weren’t pretty children or whatever, but they didn’t look like the Idol Princess). Whenever he had the stack of dark skin girls, he went through, checking their filmographies and auditions.
He asked Hazel for her opinion and she suggested a name that he recognized from his rejected stack. He pulled it back up and looked at the light skinned girl in the photo, "Do you mean this girl, Hazel?" He wondered.
"Yes! She's a really good actress!"
He furrowed his eyebrows and pointed out, "But she doesn't look like the Idol Princess. The Idol Princess has dark brown skin, tightly coiled hair, full nose and lips, and dark brown eyes. This girl has none of those things."
Hazel shrugged her shoulders, "She's really good though."
"Well… maybe some of these other girls are really good and people just don't want to see them in stuff like this."
Hazel frowned and she asked, "Are you accusing me of favoring her because she's got features like mine?"
"No. I'm just saying that she doesn't look the part. You're usually really good about that kind of thing, Haze."
"Well… I don't know anybody in the age range that looks like the description of the Idol Princess." She folded her arms, "But like you said, maybe that's because people take the easy way out and just get the pretty Black girl that they know of to play a part instead of being true to characters. I've definitely read more books with dark skinned girls than I've seen in movies…"
"Here are some of my choices," he said and spread the sheets out before her. "I think this one has the look, but I think this one had a better audition. BUT, she was auditioning for a background character and this one was auditioning for the Wicked Heiress. Maybe she just didn't have that role in her and should audition for the Idol Princess, so we can know for sure.."
"I think that maybe they should all audition for the Idol Princess again. What if they just didn't believe it would be realistic that they'd get offered a job like this, especially if bigger stars are being considered? Sometimes, I have to talk kids into auditioning for our productions because they're worried that the same actors will win out anyway."
He gave her a side smile, "I think you're onto something, Haze."
.
Hazel sent out the invites for Grace’s baby shower. Unfortunately, all of Grace’s friends lived elsewhere, so it would be an expensive trip. Fortunately, they had money, so the Monroes could foot the bill for everyone who didn’t just have the means to travel across country for an event.
Meta flew in with Damita from New York the previous week, but he made some business plans to collab with a Cali artist that week, so he was working, as well. Meanwhile, Damita and Grace were spending the week reconnecting and chilling. Shana and Iza came in from Atlanta the night before. Gharrisahn was already in LA for work, so she would swing by the day of. Grace’s parents arranged for Mikayla and Tulip to come down. They were in coach on the same flight that Lucy’s and Lindsay’s moms and they were in first class, so they’d all meet the driver upon landing.
Hazel had on a headset, along with Simon’s assistant and Grace’s assistant, because Hazel had arranged the shower and she wanted to make sure that things went how she meant for them to.
Grace was in a custom made gown that was inspired by Book 3 of Esmoroth and Simon had been at her side simply staring at her for the entire time she had it on. It had been a surprise. A very nice one that he apparently loved. She hired the costume designer for the movie to make her several pieces, but this one was like the one that the Idol Princess resurrects in. Grace was now hip to the lore enough, mainly from paying attention to Hazel’s ravings, and her and Simon’s movie chat.
For the most part, Grace didn’t want to have a shower. All of her friends lived elsewhere, the baby was due sort of close to Hazel’s birthday and she still wanted Hazel to be able to have a party - which she doubted would be able to happen if she waited until after they were born, so she wanted to have Hazel’s birthday party, INSTEAD of a shower and Hazel said, “How about you just worry about slaying everybody in your peak perfection pregnancy, and I’ll take care of the shower?”
With the financial backing of GlamMother, her dad’s big brain, and her own penchant for moments and aesthetics, Hazel tended to be very good at making things come together. She even produced some choreography (Doereography, as she called her pieces), for her and her mother to perform, because, yes, Grace was good and swollen by May, but she also could still do mostly everything that she was doing before with that additional bundle. It did throw her balance off a little and she couldn’t lift Hazel at the moment, but she kept up with every step of the Irish step dancing that Hazel put into the choreo, and she absolutely could still nail every Haitian movement. Hazel wanted to make a birthday choreo with ties to her heritage, and Grace was always very supportive of her doing anything that made her feel connected to her identity.
For good measure, Hazel looked up cultures from Grace and Simon’s heritages too. She was most accustomed to American jazz/hip hop and ballet. She started at 6, with Grace and when they were apart, Grace used to make instructional videos and post them just for Hazel. Whenever she was 10, she started to tap, and all of the other things in between, she and Grace perfected, and whenever she really wanted to nail something, they’d call in a world class trainer.
Hazel felt that a world class trainer was needed for the baby shower. Grace very much so disagreed. So, Hazel got her grandmother to get them. “Next time, simply come to me first,” the woman had said.
Hazel opened up with one of her raps. Her mom’s friends (as always) got their entire lives whenever she would flow - which was possibly the reason that she honed her talent, if she thought about it - and even Simon would be into the groove with things. He didn’t have the best rhythm, but he certainly always looked way taken up with her talent. Grace bouncing around with a round belly was everything in the world to Hazel, and when she was done, she waddled over to hug her.
They played games, did some traditional shower things and some new things too, that Hazel consulted with celebrity event planners for. When it was time for gifts, Grace froze, looking at the way that everything flowed. It was like her 16th birthday again and she felt like she might have a panic attack. “Grace… It’s okay,” Simon said. She looked at him on the other side of the tete a tete and he smiled, “I learned my lesson. This is straight up simply tribute.” He kissed her on the forehead and she calmed down to receive gifts and cry about everything, but manage to not look ugly doing so, because no matter how comfortable she had gotten over the years, that was still engrained in her as a huge no-no.
Winding down from the party, she found Hazel and her friends at the photo booth, having switched out their baby shower outfits for their birthday party outfits. “Where’s Simon?”
“Bullying people about their gifts,” Hazel said nonchalantly.
“Oh God…” Grace raced over and smiled, “Hey… what’s uh… what’s going on?”
Mrs. Monroe stood behind Simon with her arms folded and Mr. Laurent was in front of them. Simon answered, “Well, I’m giving people things back that went against the specifications for the list.”
“I don’t remember making specifications for the list.”
“You wouldn’t, because you didn’t, I did. You aren’t particularly great at meticulous things and you don’t pay attention whenever I’m telling you plans like these,” Simon said.
“We’re not gonna send a gift back with the person who gave it to us.”
“What are we gonna do, donate it to charity? Because I am not putting this together for our baby. This company uses…”
“Thank you, Mr. Laurent. Thank you for coming and thank you for this gift.” She gave the man a pat on the hand and smiled at Simon. He was still frowning, along with her mother. “You’re backing him up, now?” She got flashbacks of whenever they used to gang up on her and she was very salty that she had to defend MR. LAURENT of all people against the devastating team and Simon and her mother could be.
“He specifically said nothing from that company ON THE LIST,” her mom said, beginning a tirade against this man, with her and Simon taking turns on letting him know exactly how he’d fucked up.
“Their product is cheap and substandard.”
“They’ve decimated the supply of the people in the area they harness things from TO make cheap product.”
“And they use slave labor!”
“Child slaves.”
“OKAY! Okay… That’s a good company to boycott. But hear me out… Mr. Laurent is a simple man who shops at like three places and definitely doesn’t look up things like that,” Grace said.
To which Simon and Mrs. Monroe both reminded her, (loudly) “It was on the list!”
“I made it clear which companies we weren’t accepting gifts from!”
“It’s already bought.” Simon was going to continue complaining, but Grace took his hands and placed them on her belly and he immediately softened up and stared at it. “This is the most important thing, right?”
He looked up at her and cupped her face, shifting himself to touch foreheads with her. Hazel appeared out of nowhere to bomb the photo that they weren’t even expecting Lucy to take.
.
“Wait, that was it?” Grace wondered. Let’s be clear… she did go through a lot of pain and it was a tough time in the birthing house, even with Simon right beside her and Hazel, her mother and her best friend nearby. But… it felt like there should be something else happening or that something was missing, that she had neglected something, or like something didn’t happen that was supposed to.
She supposed that she had simply set her expectations so deeply into the thought of pain, struggle, blood, sweat and tears, that when it came… her imagination had actually run wild. Simon had kept telling her she was doing well and how he was proud of her and other affirmations. He was holding the baby now while she was being cleaned up.
“Did everything happen?” Grace asked.
Hazel went over the checklist with her. Yes. Everything happened. “Did I pass out?” No. She was awake. She was there for every grueling minute. It just was a different experience for her than what her mother described, than what she read and interpreted.
The professionals explained to her how her birthing went relatively well, what to do next, etc. Charlotte, from the center, even talked to her about how it’s not only different for everyone, but how all four of her own pregnancies and births were different from the last. Grace was expecting something terrible to happen within the first few days, just because it didn’t seem like everything had happened! The paranoia died down on day 3 and she simply was back to cuddling with her new baby.
They looked like her, so far. Hazel made them a stuffie of a potato in a diaper… the baby just looked like a potato. She didn’t know how else to express that. Simon worshipped them. He was constantly holding them whenever Grace wasn’t. He was close by whenever she fed them. He took so many photos on his phone that within days, he surpassed all of the ones he had of Monty from the past several months.
NONE of those were going online any time soon. Grace had only posted a few days after giving birth her experience with having done so. She bounced back so quickly and looked so effortlessly beautiful that some people were claiming that she had been trolling and was never actually pregnant. She found that funny, but it also was her cue to duck away from the Internet for a while again.
The first month of Ivory’s life, they were for the most part a quiet baby. Simon frequently worried that something was wrong, checking, rechecking, then coming back and checking again that they were breathing, awake, happy, etc. Grace was more like, “You’re so gross. Look at you! Drooling all over everything. Little slobbery monster!” She spoke in a high pitched voice that made Ivory smile and kick their little legs around.
“GRACE! Don’t say that!” Simon insisted. “You’re gonna make them feel bad.”
“No way! Ivory’s a tough little cookie, like their Mama. I gonna bite you, Cookie! Mama gonna bite you!” Then she playfully nibbled at their feet and hands.
Simon studied the baby for a while and determined, “They seem to be enjoying it.” He would then relax a little.
Hazel was the only person allowed to post photos of Ivory, and comments were always closed. The first one was on Hazel’s birthday. She was in a sundress, tanned a little more than usual and Ivory and she had on matching rompers and sunhats. “Ivory came 13 days before my 13th year. They really said, “I’ma be 13 too, Sis.” Look at them. Tiny. Tiny Potato. Sis has your back for life. #taurustribe #jk #idcboutthat #MonroeSibs #Doetography #HouseLaurent
And there it was. All that anyone needed to see. You honestly couldn’t tell what the baby looked like, but how could anybody doubt Hazel’s hashtag “House Laurent?”
Simon sort of liked having a private family. He wasn’t sure why he had been so eager to have people acknowledge things before. Even one year ago, he needed for somebody, anybody to know that he slept in the same bed with Grace Monroe. He needed for her to say “I love you.” He needed to hear Hazel call him “dad.” He still loved those things, but he had everything he could have ever wanted… it just looked different than he thought it would.
Why did he want to “take care of” Grace for so long? She was caoable of taking care of herself, probably better than he was of himself. She had talents (was ALREADY back to working on new dances with Hazel and new music), qualities… God… that smile made him weak… She had several other things too, but if he sat there making a list, he’d be there for a while, and he COULDN’T be there for a while, because Ivory was six weeks old and Grace told him that he could take them with him to work.
He began strapping the baby into the stroller… “Are you… where are you trying to take my baby?” Grace asked.
“My calendar says that they’re six weeks old. I can take them to work with me.”
Grace put her hands on her hips and Simon frowned. “You said it. I have a recording of you saying it.”
“Well, I said that we shouldn’t take them anywhere before six weeks…”
“And I set my calendar,” Simon completed the thought and pulled the diaper bag onto his shoulder. “Abigail is bringing Monty, so they’ll have a play date.”
“Oh, she is?” Grace asked, toweling herself down. “Hold on. I’m coming.”
“Grace, I’m gonna be late!”
“I’m not letting you go be a Daddy sized snack with TWO cute babies on you with a cute, perfect bodied nanny with no friends!”
“I don’t think she’s all that cute and I have no idea what her body looks like!”
“It doesn’t look like she pushed a baby out of it six weeks ago!”
“NEITHER DOES YOURS!”
She came into the room, changed up and smiling, “Awww. That’s so sweet.”
“How did you?” She looked perfect. She looked perfect and she couldn’t have taken any longer than five minutes. And she thought she had anything to worry about? But, he wasn’t complaining. If he had Grace and the baby around, that was just better, all around.
“I’m staying here,” Hazel told them and continued dancing in the mirror.
Grace was standing on the scooter, with Simon behind her, sporadically kissing her on the neck every now and then, making her smile and gush. Whenever they pulled into the studio Simon took the baby out, which Grace noticed was wearing an oversized heather gray, “Proof he got lucky with Grace Monroe” onesie. “Simon! What did you…?” She gasped and saw that he had a shirt, the same color that read, “I got lucky with Grace Monroe.”
“In my defense, you weren’t supposed to be here today!” Simon told her.
“How many shirts and onesie sets did you buy?”
“Not a lot. I bought WAY MORE t-shirts than I did onesies.” She fell behind a little and the back of that man’s shirt said “Grace’s Babydaddy.”
“Simon…”
“In my defense… You were right there whenever I walked out of the house wearing it.” She laughed. “It’s just in the studio. I’m working on some mechanics. There’s not gonna be cameras on me or anything.” She was still pouting. “I know that you’re super secretive, but I’m sure that most of the people who give a damn about what we do already know that this is indeed my baby…”
“It’s not that.”
“Well, what is it?”
“Ugh. I wanted to do this whole reveal thing for you on Sunday! I was gonna make this long, sweet post and open my comments and EVERYTHING. Now, I feel like it won’t have the same effect…” His eyes were already all watery, just from her THINKING about doing so.
“Sunday is Father’s Day…”
“Yeah. I can keep my own secrets. Not tell people about my pregnancy or who I bone or how I share time with my daughter or whatever, but I didn’t plan on making you stay in the shadows of my spotlight for the rest of our lives, especially when it comes to this. You’ve been an immense pain in the ass, but you’re a wonderful father and I figured it’d be a good… coming out of sorts for me to acknowledge that on that day.”
He cradled Ivory closely, “You can still do that.”
“Well, you’ve announced it all over your clothes and also… I just told you the entire plan!”
“I love knowing plans!” Simon said. “Here.” He took off the shirt and threw on his hoodie, which it was too hot for and then they changed the baby’s onesie too. “I sort of want to eat it up whenever people actually find out from you that I am indeed, who you bone.” She laughed. “This is the best spoiled surprise that I’ve ever had!”
“Well… I didn’t tell you ALL my plans, so there’s still stuff to look forward to.”
“Yeah?” He asked, casually as they walked inside.
“Mmm hmm.”
“Can I have a hint?”
“Something that starts with the letter P.” Simon turned red and she smiled brightly.
“Uh. Didn’t put THAT on your calendar, did you?”
His lip dropped, “I DIDN'T!” He frowned, “In my defense… we don’t really do that enough for it to have been something I was counting down to.” He smirked, “But every time we do…” He raised his eyebrows and smiled at her. She bit her lip and shook her head, “Nope. Sunday. You aren’t gonna beard break me, Mr. Laurent.”
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#If They Didn't Get on the Train#AU Infinity Train#Infinity Train#Nesha Fanfiction#Infinity Train Fanfiction#fics
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“We Were On A Break!” - Part 2
Author’s Note: It’s here! I’ve been so excited to upload this! Thank you again for all the amazing support so far, I can’t believe we hit a hundred followers already! You’re all so so amazing! As usual, let me know if you wanna be added to my tag list, and I hope you enjoy x
Summary: Tom might’ve broken your heart, but the prospect of you moving to another country changes everything (kinda Friends TV show crossover!)
Word Count: 4,720
Read Part 1 First
Turns out, you wouldn’t.
Mostly because Tom couldn’t keep his hands off alcohol. But also because he couldn’t keep his promises either.
Your eyes fluttered open to face an empty bed. It was cold and the covers were gone, and you felt a little furrow of confusion work its way through your brow. You were used to waking up alone when you’d been together, but some how you’d thought this might change things – that he might finally do the half decent thing and bring you some coffee.
But the open door reminded you that to Tom, you’d never be someone he brought coffee to. You were the person that fixed him up when he was pissed, told him how great he was when he was sad. Yet when it came to you, he couldn’t even find it in his heart to stay a little while.
“Tom?” you called, frustration and sleep coating your voice. You groaned, feeling your muscles protest as you sat up, grimacing at the tight jeans and unforgiving fabric of last night’s clothes. You were still half hoping he might just be in the bathroom, but when loud voices drifted up the stairs, cheers from boys still a little drunk from the night before ringing in your ears, you wondered how you’d let him suck you into this in the first place.
In a huff, you threw yourself out of the bed and grabbed your jacket, double checking none of the sneaky bastards downstairs had helped themselves to your purse. A glance at your phone reminded you you’d never told Sarah where you’d ended up last night, and even Cameron had blown it up with calls. Regardless, you’d missed your first lecture, and you wanted to curse Tom for getting under your skin again.
Poking your head out of the door, you wondered if you could just make a dash for it down the stairs. Doing the walk of shame at 10am in the morning when the only thing you had to be ashamed of was how gullible you were wasn’t exactly an experience you were thrilled about, but here you were. You started sneaking away as fast as you could, making it to the door before a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.
“Y/n? What are you doing here?”
“Hey, Harrison,” you sighed, dropping the handle in defeat. You glanced past his shoulder to make sure no one else had heard him and put a finger to your lips.
“Are you and Tom back together?” he whispered, eyes lighting up in excitement, and you hastily shook your head.
“No way. I made a mistake last night, probably not the one you think. Now would you save me the embarrassment of having to talk to him?”
Harrison raised an eyebrow, folding his arms as he poked his cheek with his tongue. “You want me to let my best friend make a stupid arse mistake and let you go?”
“Yes?” you said, voice filled with hope, internally screaming as he rolled his eyes.
“Hurry up then, I guess. He’s gonna go for his morning run in about thirty seconds.”
Throwing your head back in relief, you grinned at him and gave him a thumbs up, twisting the handle and darting from the house just in time. As the door clicked shut, you caught the remnants of Harrison brushing off a confused Tom, covering your back as he told him it was just the postman.
As you practically ran down the street, you tried to push Tom to the back of your mind. He was the last person you wanted to deal with right now, and whatever games he was playing could wait. You had bigger priorities right now, and you intended to not let Tom push you about anymore. That was the last time you let him write the rules; from now on, you were in charge.
You turned left at the end of the street, shoving your way into the familiar café on the high street. Your brain was all kinds of messed up, and before you could even start to think about processing last night you needed a huge mug of coffee and the internet.
“Hey, Gunther,” you smiled, ignoring the awe struck look he gave you. “Medium americano to sit in please.”
“Sure, Y/n. No Sarah today? I, uh, kept the sofa free for you.” You followed where he pointed, but there was basically no need for his reserved sign. The café was practically empty.
“Err thanks. But I just need a computer today.”
“Sure, sure. On the house, I’ll bring your drink over in a bit.” He winked at you as you started over towards the computer bar and nabbed the one closest to the radiator, relief washing over you as warmth covered your frozen body.
You tapped your leg impatiently as you waited for it to boot up, annoyed you’d forgotten your phone charger. You were waiting on what could have been the most important email you’d ever receive in your life, and the deadline was last night. You’d been meaning to keep an eye on it all night, but then things had gotten weird with Tom and you’d just forgotten about it.
Studying physics was the hardest but most rewarding thing you’d ever done, but you were graduating and you needed somewhere to keep pushing your mind. So when your professor had brought up that he needed an assistant to work on a PhD program with him in France, you’d jumped at the chance – travel the world, and get an awesome qualification at the same time. All you’d needed was the funding, and today was the day you would know if everything you’d worked for was coming true.
You were holding your breath as the gmail screen loaded, barely acknowledging Gunther’s comment as he set your coffee down beside you. All you could focus on was the string of black text crossing your screen as your eyes scanned the page and took in what it was saying.
“Dear Miss Y/l/n, congratulations, we are delighted to award you the grant to support your further studies in Paris – OH MY GOD!” You screamed in amazement, choking back sobs as all three of the people in the café turned to stare at you. Jesus, you’d done it. Actually done it. You were going to Paris! PARIS! To study the stars! For free!
Your heart was pounding and you could hear the blood racing in your ears. In a haze of blissful amazement, you snatched your phone of the table to call your mum, before remembering it was dead. You could hardly remember getting to your feet and rushing towards the café’s landline, punching in the only number you could remember.
“Y/n? Oh my god! Where’ve you been? We’ve been so worried, we even called your mum thinking you were back there!” Sarah’s panicked voice screamed through the phone, and you wondered how on earth she knew it was you calling.
“Shh, Sarah, shh just be quiet for a sec, okay? I did it! I got the grant! I’m going to Paris!”
There was stunned silence on the other end of the phone, before she too erupted into a set of screams so deafening you had to hold the phone away from your ear. “Y/n that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you! Have you told your mum?”
“No, my phone’s dead and yours was the only number I could remember!” You giggled, relieved to hear Sarah burst into laughter too.
“Oh God, maybe you should call her. She thinks you’ve been kidnapped!”
You rang off quickly, slumping against the wall, overwhelmed by the whole morning. In just the space of a few hours, you’d gone from utterly humiliated to high on happiness and amazement. You’d worked so hard for this, put in so many extra hours just to get half way to where you were today. And here were the results, your future, all laid out in front of you like a pretty picture.
You were going to Paris, to do something you’d always dreamed of doing, ex-boyfriend be damned.
***
A few days later, you were spread out on your bed, putting away the last of your revision notes when you heard the knock on your bedroom door. Figuring it was Sarah who’d forgot her keys, you turned down the music you had playing softly in the background, and called out to her.
“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t screwed on, numpty,” you laughed, snatching the keys off her desk and heading towards the door.
“Err, actually Y/n, it’s me.”
Your hand froze halfway to the door handle, your body rigid with a strange concoction of fear and excitement. You hadn’t heard his deep, velvety voice since last week, and you hated the way the sound sent shivers through your body. You could almost picture him, slumped against the door frame, his fist hovering over the ‘do not disturb’ sign in his usual deliberate ignoring of the rules.
“What, Tom?” you sighed, flinging the door open. God, you didn’t have time for this. You were leaving for Paris in just over a week and you still hadn’t packed half your stuff.
“Can I talk to you a minute?” he asked, his face unreadable. If he was anything, you would have said he looked scared, and the realisation made you start with the shock of seeing him anything other than cocky.
“If you make it quick, I’m busy,” you snapped, standing to one side to let him in.
“Thanks.”
You clicked your tongue and let the door slam shut, folding your arms as he started looking around your room. He trailed his hands over your bed, and you shuddered at the unwelcome memories that flooded your head, the feeling of his cool fingers against your skin and the familiar, lustful stare he’d always had drowning out any sense of resolve you thought you’d had.
Somehow, you pulled it together enough you jerk him out of his trance. “Well?”
“You’re going to Paris?” he spun around, his tone so accusatory you wanted to slap him. What right did he have to have feelings about your future? When he’d given all that up with just a few words months ago?
“If you must know, yes, I am. It’s for a PhD.”
He snorted and you grit your teeth, about to kick him out if he said anything stupid. “Good, that’s…good. I know you always wanted to do that.”
“Thanks.” You let out the breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding and pursed your lips.
He looked to the side, hunching his shoulders as if he had far more to say but didn’t know if it was smart to say it. You could see the indecision in his eyes, feeling quietly pleased your choice had unsettled him; finally, he was the one being wrong footed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well, I didn’t realise I had to run every decision I made by my ex-boyfriend,” you rolled your eyes, restraining yourself from snapping too much.
“It hurt a lot hearing it from Harrison.”
You nodded, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to feel sympathetic. You didn’t know why he felt like he had such a right to your life, when he’d made it blatantly clear he didn’t want to be a part of it anymore. You fiddled with the rings on your fingers at his comments, trying to clear your head enough to form a coherent answer.
“I can’t say I’m sorry, Tom,” you sighed at last, and he nodded. “I don’t know what you want me to say if I’m honest. You ended things and I’m moving on. I’ve got things to be getting on with and they don’t involve you, so I don’t feel overly inclined to keep you updated on my schedule.”
As you spoke, you could feel the anger bubbling up inside you, and you fought to keep it down. You’d worked so hard to make things right, to make it seem like you couldn’t give a damn anymore, and you refused to crumble at the last hurdle.
“I get that,” he nodded. “When did you find out?”
“Last week.”
“And when did you tell Harrison?”
“Last week,” you shrugged, meeting his eye with a steely glare. You were beginning to get annoyed with all of his questions, because he hadn’t even told you what he was doing here. All he’d done so far was waltz in and throw questions at you left, right, and centre, like the entitled prick you’d never thought he was.
“Was he okay with it?” Tom touched his cheek, drawing your eyes to the brief contact, and you shook your head.
“Does it matter, Tom? If you’re so interested, ask him yourself.”
“I wanted to hear it from you.”
“I don’t know why,” you spread your arms wide “you’ve not exactly called since the last time we saw each other. I’m not someone you can just call when you need me and then dump me the next day. If you’re here to do that, then you can piss off now.”
“Of course I’m not here for that!” Tom’s mouth fell open and he sounded genuinely shocked at what you were saying.
“Then why are you here?” you threw your head back, exhausted already from this conversation and wanting nothing more than to run far away.
“I…don’t know,” Tom admitted, collapsing onto your bed. “After you disappeared the other night, I figured that was the end of us, that I’d really blown it that time. I wanted to call you, to set things straight, but you’d made it so clear in the past that you wanted nothing to do with me that I thought maybe it was for the best.”
“Well clearly you changed your mind,” you eyed him, but his words caught at your heart strings.
“I did. I honestly did. I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/n. You’re in my dreams, in my thoughts, hell I can’t go a minute without something reminding me of you, and when Harrison told me about you leaving...” he gulped, leaving his sentence unfinished and glanced up, red rimming his eyes. You stepped towards him and tentatively put your hand on his shoulder, not sure what to say.
“You’re telling me all of this a bit late. And to be honest, after the way you’ve behaved, I’m not sure I believe you.”
“And you have every right not to,” Tom was suddnely on his feet, inches from your face. Your breathing hitched and he swallowed audibly, his hand reaching up to cup your face. “But know that I’m not here to trick you or mislead you, I’m here as one hundred percent myself, and I’m trying to fix the biggest mistake I ever made.”
The contact made you shiver, drawing you further into Tom’s arms. A thousand thoughts swirled in your head as you stared into the deep chocolate pools you’d once known every inch of. Everything about him was intoxicating, from the slippery velvet words that came from his lips to the deep, woody pine smell that made you want to bury your head into every jumper he owned. You were drowning in Tom, and just for a minute you forgot everything that had happened.
All that you remembered was the here and now, the silence stretching for miles between you as you were locked in his embrace. He was inching closer, and your heart was pounding faster, threatening to burst from your chest in an all-consuming, blinding explosion. You weren’t breathing, hardly moving, as he tilted your chin towards him and brought his hand to tangle in your hair. His fingers threaded through the knots with ease, the familiarity a surprise to you as your eyes fluttered closed at his touch. You were moments away from kissing him, and God you wanted to.
But wanting was not the same as needing.
You stepped back abruptly, watching hurt cross Tom’s face as swiftly as though you’d plunged a knife into his chest. You tried to say something, anything, but the words got caught in your throat, and instead you were breathing hard and gasping for air, the sudden loss of contact a shock. How did you explain to him how you felt? Now you were the one that had ripped away something good, something beautiful, and being on the other side of it felt awful.
But you knew, you were certain, that kissing Tom would only bring you more hurt than you’d already had, and you weren’t sure your heart could take anymore.
“I’m…I’m sorr…sorry,” you stuttered, feeling hot tears start sliding down your face.
Tom shook his head slowly and looked down at the floor. You weren’t certain, but you were almost positive you’d seen the glassy covering of tears just about to fall. “It’s alright.”
“I, um, I think you should go,” you mumbled, twiddling with your fingers. Your heart had broken so many times over this guy that you just wanted to let yourself be alone for once, to feel and suffer and wallow in the overwhelming sadness and heart break that followed you and Tom wherever you went. Perhaps this time, it would finally teach you a lesson.
He met your eyes with a desperate look, but this time he didn’t close the space between you. The anticipation hung in the air as you both waited for the other to make a move, and suddenly the overwhelming urge to run towards him and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe took over your rational brain. You fought it down with a harsh wipe of your cheek, feeling the tackiness of the tears there drying on your palm.
At last, Tom nodded, and started towards the door, grabbing the jacket he’d tossed over the chair. “Y/n?” he glanced over his shoulder.
“Yeah?” you said at last, barely looking him in the eye.
“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry.”
And then he was gone, disappearing from your room as quickly as he’d come without so much as a goodbye. As soon as the door had slammed shut, you felt your heart shatter, and you fell to the floor as your knees gave way, all the strength you’d held suddenly ebbing away.
Tears poured down your reddened face, your hands thrust into your hair as you sobbed into your knees. You curled them into your chest, desperately pulling yourself close in an attempt to shut out the encroaching world that had crushed your fragile body so many times over. It seemed unfair, almost cruel, that this was happening again – you were reliving that horrible night all over again, and you just wanted it to stop.
This was supposed to be a good day. A positive day. Where you’d moved on and were planning for an exciting future. Except now you’d been stripped right back to core, your emotions exposed and everything torn to shreds. Your heart was laying naked somewhere in Tom’s palms, your tears running through the cracks in his skin. Because as much as you hated to admit it, there was still a part of you that longed to chase after him, beg him to stay.
And it was the very part of you that had destroyed you.
***
Departure day came quicker than you’d expected, and you were still reeling from Tom. Harrison and Sarah came with you to say goodbye, their hugs lingering as you stood in the departure lounge.
“I’m gonna miss you!” Sarah sobbed, scraping at her cheeks as fresh tears rolled down them.
“Not as much as I’m gonna miss you,” you laughed. “But you can come visit any time you like.”
“That better be the same for me too, Miss Y/l/n,” Harrison smirked, pulling you into his arms.
“What? You’re the British one here, Harrison, you can make a day trip whenever you fancy!”
“Consider that done,” he winked, and you swatted him on the arm. You exchanged a look with him as the laughter died, both knowing he wouldn’t have been the only British boy with you today if things had gone differently.
“For what it’s worth, Y/n, I’m sure he would have come,” Harrison sighed, stroking your arm.
“Yeah, right,” Sarah scoffed “he didn’t call, didn’t text, just left her there on the floor after ripping her heart out again.”
“Tom’s an idiot, we all know that, but he’s decent when he’s not being stupid.”
“Unfortunately, he’s being stupid most of the time,” you muttered, glancing down at your phone one last time in the hopes he might have changed his mind. But the screen was still blank, just your regular old Spiderman background staring you in the face.
Suddenly, a voice came over the tannoy, and dread filled your stomach. “This is the last call for flight 217 to Paris, France. Please proceed to Gate 48.”
“Well, that’s me,” you gulped, turning to your friends with wide eyes. “Is it normal to be this scared?”
“Moving to another country all by yourself? Of course it is,” Harrison smiled warmly, and you trusted him the most. After all, he’d done it four years ago. “But you’ll be back for graduation next month. By then you’ll have forgotten all of the nerves and you’ll be a proper Parisian.”
You laughed and gathered your bags, giving them one final hug before starting towards the gate. “I love you guys!” You called over your shoulder.
“We love you too!”
You disappeared into passport control, fear filling your stomach. That was it, the last sighting of any familiar faces for a very long time, and it was of Harrison answering the phone. As you handed your passport over to the stern looking lady at the booth, you couldn’t help but wonder if what Harrison said was true, if being a Parisian really was that simple. It didn’t seem it, but if Tom could make a new life in a completely different country, then you sure as hell could to.
Tom. Oh God. You hadn’t wanted to think about him. Not now, when any thought of him previously had left you a crippling mess and unable to talk. Numbly, you took your passport back and wandered into the concourse, looking for directions to Gate 48. Anything to distract you from what might have been.
When you finally found your gate, your head was still full of thoughts of Tom and everything you should’ve said, and the lady checking your boarding pass had to ask you three times before you registered she was talking to you.
“Is everything okay, love?” she asked, stamping the ticket.
“Oh, yeah,” you shrugged “just a lot going on right now I guess.”
“Yeah, I’d say so. You only just got here in time, take off is in fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks,” you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes, and she stuck her hand out as you tried to walk past.
“Guy trouble?” she narrowed her eyes and you jumped in shock.
“How did you-?”
“Oh please, I see enough young men and women walking through these gates every day looking a little lost. And Paris? Is there any please more obvious to go to for a broken heart?”
“I thought it was the city of love?” you raised an eyebrow, and the woman laughed.
“Of course darling, that’s why it’s perfect for heartbreak.”
Her words rattled around in your skull, ‘darling’ working its way through the layers of iron around your heart and embedding itself into the tissue. That was what he had called you. You hadn’t thought about the word in days, and here this woman was, so casually saying it, as if you hadn’t had your heart torn in two by the very man who practically invented the word.
Images of Tom swam before your eyes, the brown curls and dimpled smile nestling into your mind. You felt tears prick in your eyes as the memory of his voice swirled through his ears, so realistic you could’ve sworn he was right next to you.
“Wait!”
It was so random, it was like he was there. You could hear him yelling, a cruel trick your mind was determined to play, and yet it was so real.
“Y/n, please, wait!”
He sounded out of breath, but at the sound of your name you spun around in surprise, dropping your rucksack in shock as Tom came sprinting through the crowd. He was wearing his usual black t-shirt and jeans, but he was clutching a small strip of paper and racing towards you.
“Y/n!”
“Is that you?” the woman who’d stamped your ticket asked with a knowing smile.
“Tom?” your mouth fell open “what are you doing here?”
He skidded to a stop, the eyes of hundreds of passengers trained on him as he bent double and gasped for breath. “I…couldn’t…let…you…leave…without saying…goodbye.”
“What?” you balked, not sure what to say. Your flight was leaving in less than ten minutes – of course Tom would cock this up for you.
“Y/n, please, please don’t go,” he gripped your shoulders, pulling you against his chest. At first, you resisted, but at the sight of his pleading eyes and desperate voice, you collapsed against you, and his chin fell on your head. “Oh God, I thought I’d missed you.”
“How’d you even get in here?” you asked.
“Bought a ticket.”
“You did what?”
“Apparently I’m on the second flight out to Canada now,” he grinned, stepping away from you.
“You did all that to ask me to stay?” your mouth moved before you could think, but Tom was nodding vigorously, still panting.
“I got the wrong airport at first, then I rang Haz and he told me you’d just gone into passport control. I figured I had enough time to make it, but then I got here and your flight wasn’t on the departures board.” So that was the phone call Haz had taken as you’d left.
“You know, asking me to stay isn’t possible, Tom,” you sighed as reality hit you like a truck “I’ve got a job to do, and I want this so badly. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Asking me to give all that up for you when you broke my heart is…a lot.”
“I know, I know. Okay, look, don’t stay then. But let me follow you.”
“Tom…” you started, shaking your head “this is all so complicated.”
“Well let me make it less complicated for you then,” he said, and suddenly you were kissing, and stars were exploding behind your closed eyes. His lips moved with yours, sending sparks of electricity racing through your veins. Your skin crawled as a thousand fires spread across your body, heat warming your chilled bones. It was everything you needed and didn’t want at the same time, but it felt right, it felt good, and suddenly you knew you should have kissed him the day he’d come to your dorm.
When you broke apart, the lady at the desk was clearing her throat as the final warning bell sounded. “Miss Y/l/n, are you boarding this plane or not?”
You glanced between her and Tom, the prospect of the future or the enticement of the past. You knew what would win out, you were too sensible to give into a guy who’d just run through an airport for you – but there was no reason you couldn’t have both.
“I am,” you nodded, picking up your rucksack and smiling at Tom, whose eyes had widened slightly. “There’s another flight out in two hours. Change your ticket and come with me.”
“Will you meet me there?” he called out as you started walking backwards.
“I’ll be waiting,” you replied, blowing him a kiss. Suddenly, everything felt right again. Maybe Tom would break your heart again, maybe he wouldn’t. But the prospect of forever didn’t mean much right now, you were too busy living your life. All that could come – for now, you just had to focus on your future and taking one step at a time. If Tom was really that serious about you, he’d show it soon enough.
And if he didn’t? Well then, you’d be okay with that too. Because something told you, as you walked away, that whatever was to come would be brilliant.
And you couldn’t wait to find out what it was.
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#tom holland#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland fanfic#tom holland smut#tom holland au#tomholland!au#peter parker#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fanfic#tom holland one shot#peter parker one shot#one shot#au#peter parker smut#frat!tom#tom holland fluff#tom holland angst#peter parker fluff#peter parker angst#fluff#angst
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Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid: Final Part
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 1,804
Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!
Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.
Tags at the bottom
“Dad? You in here?” you asked as you entered his house.
He wasn’t anywhere downstairs, so you figured he must be upstairs which is hard considering his situation.
“Here to yell at me some more?” he said from behind you. Jumping slightly, you turned to face him with tear-stained cheeks. “What’s wrong?”
“I did something bad,” you cried.
“What happened?”
“I did something very bad, and Dean doesn’t know but Sam and Castiel know, and if Dean finds out then he’s going to hate me,” you sobbed, falling onto the couch.
“What did you do?” he asked quietly, trying to be as delicate as possible.
“You’re going to hate me,” you whispered.
“I could never hate you.”
“I hate me.”
“Y/N, what did you do?”
“We got a problem,” Sam interrupted as he barged into the house. Looking up at the younger brother, he didn’t question your sadness since he knew what this was about. “Where’s Dean?”
“Right here. What’s going on?” he asked, coming in through the back door.
“Keep your damn voices down. Karen's upstairs,” your dad hissed.
“Oh, I'm sorry. We're a little tense right now.”
“Ezra Jones’ wife is dead. Well, re-dead. I had to kill her because she went rabid,” Sam panted.
“Who's old lady Jones?” Dean asked.
“The first one to come up,” your dad answered.
“First one to go bad,” you finished.
“Ah, she was always a nutty broad.”
“Nutty how? Nutty like the way she ate her husband's stomach? Was that the level of nutty she was in life?” Sam asked, giving your father a pointed look.
“No.”
“Look, Bobby, I feel for you. But you have got to acknowledge that you're not exactly seeing this straight!” Dean exclaimed quietly.
“Dad, whether you admit it or not, these things are turning. We have to stop them—all of them,” you sighed, wiping your tears off your face.
Dean saw this, but he decided not to question it right now. Your dad reached into his desk and pulled out a gun, resting it on his lap.
“Time to go.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Off my property.”
“Dad.”
“Or what? You’ll shoot?” Sam chuckled.
“If Karen turns, I will handle it my way.”
“This is dangerous,” you tried again.
“I'm not telling you twice,” he cocked his gun to tell you this was serious.
Exchanging looks with the brothers, you left the house without having to be told twice. If this is how he wants to behave, then so be it.
“He's crazy,” Dean scoffed as he drove down the road.
“It's his wife, Dean.”
“No, it isn’t, Sam. We’re his family. I’m his family!” you shouted.
“Look, bigger fish, okay? I mean, we got a bunch of zombies about to turn this town into a giant chew toy.”
“Yeah, and he's alone in the house making pie with one of 'em!”
“Okay, so?”
“So! I'm gonna have to go back there and… and… and kill her. That's the only thing I can think of,” Dean determined for you two.
“If he sees you, you're a dead man.”
“Luckily, I can fend for the both of us,” you argued.
“Okay. I'll head to town and rescue everyone—should be easy,” he scoffed.
“Sounds like.”
“I’m going to need some help.”
“What about the sheriff?” you suggested.
“Uh, last time I checked, the sheriff was pretty pro-zombie.”
“Well, I guess you'll just have to convince her,” Dean shrugged.
“How?”
“Use some of your charm, Sam. Just get it done,” you snapped.
After leaving Sam alone, you and Dean walked back to your dad’s house with shotguns. You didn’t know what would kill or harm these creatures, so Dean had the guns, and you had your magic. Entering his house, you didn’t see your dad or Karen anywhere. The kitchen was empty as well as the living room. The only place was upstairs and the back room, and your dad couldn’t even go up the stairs.
“Come on,” you whispered, your magic glowing dimly in case you might need it.
Taking a few more steps, you heard. A gunshot goes off in the back room, and you picked up the pace before barging in.
“Dad!”
“Bobby!” Dean yelled at the same time as you.
Your dad held his dead wife’s hand, but this time, she really was dead with a hole in her head.
“Come on, we don’t have much time. Sam needs our help,” you urged.
Dean wheeled Bobby out of the room and house with you in the lead. If there was anything out here, you would be the one to take it down first while Dean protected your dad.
“You know, Bobby, if you want to sit this one out…”
“Let's just get going,” he sighed.
Not far from the house, you heard a noise come from behind which indicated someone was coming.
“Stay here,” you whispered, leaving them to see who it might be.
There was no one here, but you felt eyes on you. A gunshot rang loudly, and you were going to go back to the men when you were tackled to the ground by a zombie. Yelling out in surprise, you thrusted a hand on his chest, using your magic to shove him off you. He went flying through the air and into the nearest car, but that did little to harm him. Pulling out your gun from behind, you aimed it at his head and shot him dead.
“Y/N!” Dean yelled for you.
“Dean!” you scrambled to get up and maneuvered through the lot of cars to get back to Dean.
Upon your arrival, you saw your dad out of his wheelchair, and a zombie tackle your boyfriend. Summoning up enough magic, you blasted the zombie and any more than seemed to come closer. From beyond the car, you could tell there were a lot more coming your way.
While you took care of the zombies with your magic and gun, Dean helped your dad back into the wheelchair.
“Go!” you yelled. “I’m right behind you!”
Dean wasted no time ushering your dad back to his house since that was the safest place to be right now. Your gun eventually ran out of ammo, and you used your magic to keep the zombies away until you could get into the house. Tripping up the back stairs, you fell into the house at the last minute, and Dean slammed the door shut and locked it. Groaning, you rested on the floor for a few seconds before getting up.
“Got any more ammo? I'm low,” you sighed.
“Yeah, we got plenty. Just run back past the zombies. It's in the van, where we left it,” your dad sassed.
“A simple ‘no’ would have been fine. What are they all doing here, anyway?”
“I think I get it.”
“What?” Dean asked.
There were too many zombies here at once, and without any ammo, you couldn’t kill them. Your magic could only do so much, and you needed to protect your dad and Dean. Zombies banged on the glass windows, shattering them and trying to get in. There were zombies on the roof who scratched at the wood to get in.
“Oh, that ain’t good.”
“I’m out,” Dean decided.
“Come on!” you yelled, leading the group to the nearest closet.
It was small and cramped, but it was safe at least for the time being. As soon as the door was closed, zombies began pounding on the door to be let in.
“Kind of a tight fit, don't you think?” your dad said.
“Can’t you do something?” Dean asked.
“I’ll kill both of you in the process. There are too many of them!”
“It's alright, they're idiots. They can't pick a lock,” Dean scoffed.
The pounding on the door stopped, and the door handle began moving as they did what Dean said they couldn’t do.
“Don't you ever get tired of being wrong?” you dad asked.
“I'm making this stuff up as I go. Sue me,” he groaned.
The door opened swiftly, and since you were closest to the door, you kicked and punched the zombies who tried to attack. Your eyes started to glow bright blue, but thank God Sam came at the last minute.
“Get down!” he yelled, him and Jody Mills started shooting all of the zombies. Lowering your head, you protected yourself from the bullets and shards until it was all over. Once every single one of them were dead, you looked at Jody and Sam with a dead look.
“Are you okay?”
“Peachy,” you sighed.
In order to properly make sure none of these people would come back in any way, shape, or form, you helped build a pyre to burn all of the bodies hunter style.
“Well, if there's any zombies left out there, we can't find them,” you stated.
“How are the townspeople?” Sam asked Jody.
“Pretty freaked out. Hell, traumatized. A few of them are calling the papers. As far as I can tell, nobody's believed 'em yet.”
“Would you? How are you holding up?”
“Is that everyone?” Dean asked, motioning to the pyre.
Every single zombie was inside this thing… all except one.
“All but one,” you answered.
Dean understood what that meant, and you left with the brothers to join your dad’s side where he was in front of a single pyre with his dead wife in it.
“So, I’m thinking maybe I should apologize for losing my head back there,” your dad began to apologize.
“Bobby, you don't owe us anything,” Sam assured.
“Hey, I’m not a big expert on love, and the love I do have is enough for me, but at least you got to spend five days with her, right?” Dean asked, looking at you while he said it.
You couldn’t bear to look in his eyes when he said that, and you looked away almost immediately.
“Right, which makes things about a thousand times worse. She was the love of my life. How many times do I got to kill her?”
“Are you gonna be okay, Dad?”
“You three should know that Karen told me why Death was here.”
“She knew that? How?”
“He came for me.”
“What do you mean, you?” Dean wondered.
“Death came for me. He brought Karen back to send me a message.”
“You? Why you?” you wondered.
“Because I've been helping you, you sons of bitches. I'm one of the reasons you're still saying no to Lucifer, Sam.”
“So, this was like a hit on your life?” Sam asked.
“I don't know if they wanted to take my life or my spirit. Either way, they wanted me out of the way.”
“That does mean shit, does it? You’re going to be alright, right?” you asked, but you received no answer from him.
Right?!
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part five: “what comes next.” (cal lowell x mc)
[a little note: I am over the moon with all the positive feedback I’ve received so far over this series. And I want to keep expanding it because I do have a goal in mind. But I’ve been flighty in the past with series - so let’s see where this adventure takes us! If you read it - than you! If you leave a comment, bless you! ].
[words counted: 8996]
[summary: after their break-up, Cal is in a funk that he can’t seem to get out of. Everyday feels the same - until the unthinkable happens and Cal is forced into making a decision to protect the pack].
[part one, part two, part three, part four]
There’s something unsettling about waking up alone, when you’re accustomed to waking up next to someone else. You keep expecting to hear them murmur something in their sleep, or to reach out and touch you because of whatever’s plagued them the night before, can’t seem to disappear unless they’re reassured by your presence.
None of this happens though.
Maybe it’s because it hasn’t hit him yet. Not really. How can she be gone if her scent is still here? And it is everywhere – on his pillows, on his skin – lingering on even his clothes. He can’t seem to get rid of it nor does he think, he truly wants to.
Unable to stop himself, Cal’s hand stretches across the bed only to find it empty and the utter devastation of a completely cold blanket.
I miss her.
He can admit it in his own solitude, even if he can’t allow himself to say the words out-loud.
It’s been nearly since a week since she left, since the inexplicable truth had whatever they had together asunder. And for the first time in months, he has no urge to get out moving. No urge to even lift a finger. The wolf in him is almost mournfully quiet, as if it’s suffering too.
The door swings open and Cal doesn’t as much as blink at the familiar figure stepping into his room. Although, he is surprised that his brother is dressed this early in the morning. Wasn’t it only ten?
“Shit! It reeks in here.”
Cal rolls across his bed, cocooning himself inside the comfort of his blanket and his eyes flutter shut, feigning sleep. It may be a little childish – but he’s not ready for the rest of the world. At least not yet. They can wait a little bit longer.
Sudden light floods his field of vision. “What the hell, Donny?!” He hisses, flinching at the abrupt intrusion – glancing up at his younger brother. The boy pulls the curtains back and has the audacity to glare at him.
“It’s Saturday Cal. You should have been up ages ago.” There’s a rustle as Donny nearly stumbles over the stacks of beer cans littered across the room.
Cal groans and covers his face with his hands. “I know.”
“Then why the hell are you still in bed?” Donny demands, stopping shortly in front of his nightstand. “This isn’t like you.”
He rubs his face tiredly, not bothering to respond with anything other than a disgruntled sigh.
“Okay,” Donny clears his throat. “You’re gonna really make me say it, huh?”
Cal grunts a second time, lets out an expletive before sitting up in bed. “You don’t have to say it.”
“But I think I really do,” Donny insists, resting the left side of his hip against the windowsill. “You’re miserable without her.”
“Don’t,” Cal says a little sharper than he intended. He stops short, grits his teeth and swings his legs to the side of his bed. He tenses for a moment, fingers gripping the sheets tighter until his knuckles pale in comparison to the colour of his skin. “I don’t wanna talk about it. I don’t wanna talk about her.”
His brother’s response is almost immediate, “neither do I. But you’re kinda forcing me at this point with how lousy you’ve been lately.” He folds his arms, shifting his weight to stare out at the open field of their backyard. “You miss her.”
“Leave it, Donny.” There’s a soft warning in his voice that has Donny stiffening in return. “You really don’t want to open that can.” And he didn’t want to either.
“What’s one more can to add,” Donny gestures to the room incredulously, “to the seven billion already in here?”
Despite the jab, Cal snorts. He stands up, goes through a series of stretches while his brother’s eyes continue to stare daggers at his back.
“You’re really going to be that stubborn, huh?”
Silence.
“Are…you…ignoring me?”
“I’m taking a page out of your book.” Cal quips back, tossing a droll stare over his shoulder.
“It doesn’t look good on you. The angsty teen thing is sort of my smhick.”
He shrugs, “maybe it’s time for something new.” He counters, then adds. “Thanks for interrupting my brooding time, by the way.”
“You’re welcome.” Donny replies without missing a beat. “I needed to anyway – you stink.” He makes a shooing motion with his hands. “Go shower.”
Cal glances over at him sharply. “I was getting to that.” His tone is clipped as he makes an obscene gesture behind his back. “I’ll meet you downstairs.” There’s no room left inside his voice for an argument, he wants him out.
Donny rolls his eyes before muttering a remark. “Fine, just don’t be too long.”
Cal waits until the door of his bedroom closes before heading into the shower. On his way there, he avoids most of Wren’s stuff. It’s still littered pretty much everywhere.
He pulls back the sliding door of the bathroom. It��s even in here too.
It doesn’t matter where he looks – there’s always some kind of a reminder waiting for him. There is still a lot of her around and he can’t bring himself to ignore them completely - even if acknowledging the heavy presence she still has in his life, is ten times worse than pretending she was never here.
He knows he shout get rid of everything. In fact, he keeps telling himself he’ll get to it – but there are only so many hours in the day, and now it’s been a week; everything is almost exactly as it has been when she left.
None of her stuff is a hair out of place.
And he supposes, it won’t ever feel real as long as there’s still pieces of her inside his home. But how can get rid of them – knowing it’s like getting rid of half of his heart?
Gritting his teeth, Cal shoves a fist into through the wall of his shower – hearing a soft crunch, before some of the cement gave way once he releases his fist. He rubs a thumb over the bruised knuckles before dropping the hand loosely to his side. He blinks at the hole.
Wellll, there goes his next paycheck.
He utters a grunt of frustration. Fuck, the last thing he needs is this house falling apart too. He really needed to get his shit together and if not for himself – at least for Donny.
Taking a deep breath, Cal angles himself towards the showerhead; waiting for the hot water to readily pour over the soft sheen of his hair. His eyes flutter close and he braces his forehead against the wall. As the warm water splashes across his skin – he tries to scrub away more than the dirt from his skin, he tries to scrub clean the marks of his past.
-
Cal takes to the stairs not soon after his shower. He’s dressed for practicality more than comfort for the first time in a week. His dark jeans still fit the right angles; hugging his calves and his tee is slightly tight around the forearms as Cal does a mental check of his hair before heading towards the kitchen.
Last time he checked their fridge, they’ve been out of a couple things.
The smell of food usually wets his appetite, but Cal’s stomach cramps at the thought as an aroma of food suddenly overwhelms his senses. He blanches and sniffs the air. Slightly undercooked meat. Over-charred veggies.
Did Donny forget the stove on again?
He hates overcooked meat, but when your brother makes it for you, you can’t very well say those things out-loud. Thus, Cal pushes past the doors and squints at the sight of Donny in one of his aprons located near the front of the stove. His squinting turns into a forceful smile as he takes a seat and within seconds, Donny presents a plate full of food eagerly in front of him.
There’s a genuine attempt at a burger on his plate. Despite the blackened state of the bottom of the bun – the meat smells fine. But it’s the pitiful sight of overcooked zucchini and lima beans that makes the smile on Cal’s lips, falter. “Thank you.”
Donny beams, then tries to not make a big deal out of it by frowning. “I figured you could use a pick-me-up.”
Cal inclines his head, “something like that. This is great – really,” his tone is less neutral, and much warmer this time. “The beers were all starting to taste the same.”
“You mean dark, broody and sad –” Donny picks up his own burger and takes a large bite, “and kinda like you?”
Cal fights a real smile as he reaches for his. “Okay, I guess I deserved that.”
Donny clucks his tongue, pouring the older Lowell a cup of coffee. “Yeah, well I’ve never seen you down like this, and it’s freaking me out because I don’t know what to do –” he hesitates, nose scrunching up until he swallows. “Or how to make things better.”
For Donny, that’s as close as Cal thinks he’ll get to worry on his behalf. “I don’t know what to do either,” he confesses. “This is just as much weird for you as it is for me,” he reaches for his coffee, and swallows the hot liquid quick enough for his tongue to burn. He sucks in a breath quickly, trying to dull the sudden ache before speaking. “I think…a part of me can’t really believe it yet. That she’s really gone.”
There’s a reason why he hasn’t talked about it.
It’s painful enough without having to live through the memory all over again – in fact, running over the fine details of it certainly won’t help in getting over her. And yet, the moment Donny brings her up -it’s like he’s transported to last week and the floodgates of his emotions momentarily threaten to drown him. Suddenly, instead of sitting at home he’s back at the Wolf’s Den – standing in front of her, feeling tears threaten when he’d ended things. The way she stepped away from him had hurt almost as much as if she’d struck him, and the defeated look in her eyes before she managed to leave the room had made it difficult for him to follow. The worst part is what came after all the talking – driving home in painful silence.
He doesn’t even remember how he found his bed that night. The last thing he’s able to recall was raiding his refrigerator for something to drink, and the next thing he knew – it was suddenly morning, and she was gone.
“I can’t believe it too.” Donny admits. His eyes have shifted to his lap.
Cal on the other hand, drops the other half of his burger left to rub his temples. “Who was I kidding anyway?” He murmurs more to himself than to his younger brother, “things would have never worked out.” They rarely do. It was only a matter of time for his happiness to run out, like a ticking time-bob – something was always going to ruin them. “We’re too different,” he continues; thinking of how they met. “It wouldn’t have mattered.” It’s so clear to him now. They were fighting the inevitable, and yet – why does his heart feel like this? As though it’s breaking in two at the thought his own words being something other than a fabrication to rationalize his own reasoning.
Donny grabs a spoonful of cereal, “sounds like you took the easy way out.”
Cal’s mug pauses by his mouth. A pang of hurt makes it harder for him to swallow. He waits a beat, then swallows down the taste of charred lima beans. “Maybe,” he concedes, stabbing a piece of his zucchini with a sigh. But what good is talking about it anyway?
Donny’s expression falters, as though he’s heartbroken by the knowledge instead of him. He chews on a piece of lima bean, glancing across the table while Cal fumbles and fails miserably to think of another subject.
“I should get out, maybe stop by the store – we’re missing a few things.”
“I’m not gonna say no to getting out of here.” Donny shrugs, “the sun is up. The clouds are looking good –no rain tonight, let’s do it.”
“Good,” Cal throw his napkin on the table and gets up. He should eat more, but his appetite is the last thing on his mind. He needs to get moving again, pry some sense of his old routine without feeling stuck. “Let’s get going.”
-
The ride back inside Cal’s car is nowhere silent.
For the most part, they talk and Cal is relieved. He can tell that his brother’s sudden burst of appeal with his role and responsibilities changing and the pack, don’t stem from simple interest. They stem from wanting to keep him distracted and he appreciates the sentiment, even if it sometimes fall a little flat when he’d suddenly glance away and mumble something about the groceries in the back seat.
The second they turn into the driveway, the wolf inside of Cal stands at alert and the tiny hairs across the nape of his neck stand at attention. He turns of the ignition slowly, but makes no move to exit the car. Neither does Donny – who freezes beside him as his nostrils flare up in suspicion.
“Someone’s been here.”
“You don’t think –” Donny bites his lip. “You don’t think it’s the other pack, do you?”
It is exactly what Cal thinks, but he doesn’t want to scare him. He should have thought of it sooner and curses inwardly for not checking for the most obvious places. If someone’s been following them, or watching them up until this point – he won’t make the same mistake twice. “Stay in the car.” Cal says quietly, deftly snatching his keys from the ignition. “I’ll be right back.” He promises.
If Donny wants to protest, he does a good job of remaining petulant and silent, as Cal shoots him a look then gets out of the car. He closes the door quietly behind him, then trudges towards the front door – feeling ill at ease from the idea of someone breaking into their home. Even worse, the wolf inside of him snarls and demands for complete control. He grits his teeth, fighting to keep his calm when his gaze shifts to the entrance.
The lock is broken.
Cal freezes, staring at the door that’s been left slightly ajar. This was done on purpose. There’s no doubt about it. Straightening his shoulders, he forces one feet forward and then another until he’s able to shuffle past the entrance.
The first part of the home he checks is the living room – but it doesn’t matter because the whole place is a mess.
Every piece of furniture he owns has been rolled onto its side, or tossed onto the floor – there’s even a broken vase he’d gotten from a co-worker last year, and shattered pieces of glass belonging to his coffee table. As his eyes and feet travel to one room and then another – it becomes very apparent to him that whoever’s been here, had been looking for something.
Cal takes the stairs one step at a time. While he hasn’t heard any other noises or sounds of footsteps to allude that someone is still here; he wants to be on-guard just in case. His ears listen keenly as he reaches the top of the stairs. Nothing.
His hands clench into fight fists. The fucking assholes.
With renewed sense of purpose, Cal checks every room single room – leaving nothing to chance. But they’re all in a familiar disarray to downstairs – pushed aside bed spring, his clothes, her clothes scattered across the floor and his tool kit rifled through before being recklessly abandoned. Shit, they’ve gone through everything.
Luckily, his important stash of documents are miraculously find in his safe – they haven’t seemed to figure out a way inside of it. He double-checks it though, swiftly entering his code and uttering a sigh of relief that none of its contents have gone missing.
Still, the thought of someone rifling through his home bothers the shit out of him. It does more than that – it makes him pissed as hell that it happened under his watch. How is supposed to take care of Donny when he can barely call their home a safe haven?
He makes a mental note to change the locks in house the second he gets the chance before heading back downstairs. Un-fucking-believable.
A sudden creak from the front door, causes Cal to hurry towards the sound – fists raised high and with the heavy implication of shifting until his eyes land on a sheepish Donny standing across the threshold of the front door.
“Donny,” Cal hisses his name, “what part of wait in the car did you not understand?”
“Probably the waiting part.” He replies, stepping past him. Eyes widening in shock, Donny takes in the sight of the upturned chairs, and tables from their living room – the broken glass, all of it. “Someone was really looking for something here, huh?” Despite lackadaisical words, his voice shakes a little until he clears his throat.
“Not just someone.” Although Cal can’t quite make out their exact scent, there’s no denying his hunch that it has to do with the wolves they met over a week ago. “A wolf,” he sniffs the air – the slight scent of pine cones from the woods, the distinct smell of an ashtray. It has to be them.
“Yeah, I think I recognize the scent.” Donny visibly takes a long whiff, then wrinkles his nose. “I think it’s one of the wolves we met at the Howlers.”
“But what’s he doing here?” Cal wades over to the door, his eyes narrowing at the thought of him getting away. “He must have been following us.” His voice turns low, and he rakes his fingers angrily through his hair. “that fucker’s lucky I didn’t catch him.”
“But you know what this means right –” his eyes drift back to him. “They’re definitely up to something.”
“We don’t know that.” Cal’s protest sounds doubtful even to his own ears.
His brother folds his arms, “then why the hell would they be here Cal? They were obviously looking for us, or maybe…maybe they were just looking for you.” His eyes skim the mess as he paces across the other side of the living room. “Or information on you.”
Cal feels more than inclined to agree, but without hard evidence – it doesn’t matter. All Donny’s speculation is pointless unless there’s something leading back to them. All they have is a hunch and a scent to go by – and that isn’t anything substantial in the court of law.
“We should follow the scent, see where it leads.” Donny adds, breaking Cal’s train of thought.
Cal shakes his head. “No, it’s too dangerous.” He says the words a-matter-of-factly, so there’s no room for an argument. He would never put his brother at risk like that.
“Too dangerous?!” Donny throws his hands up. “They’ve pretty much started a war by coming into our territory to start trouble.”
His lips thin into a slight frown. “I know, but we can’t retaliate without being sure.” Although, the wolf in him is practically jumping at an opportunity to beat the shit out of someone. He won’t act unless he’s sure, anything less won’t help. It’ll make things worse.
“Maybe the neighbours saw something.” Donny mumbles, his voice hopeful.
“We’re almost a mile apart from each other.” Cal sighs, “if anything they might have seen a car leave – if they took a car and didn’t just shift out in the open like this.”
“What about the scent? Can we track it?”
“I certainly can try,” he pauses to consider the idea. “It’s still sort of fresh which means they had to have been watching when we left the house.” He pauses, “that’s probably when they were in here.”
“Did they take anything?”
“No,…it doesn’t look like they’ve found what they’re searching for,” Cal frowns, his mind doing another mental check. Nothing valuable went missing at least. Were they really only looking for him?
“Then what do we do?”
“First, let me talk to Jayde.” Cal says, dragging his fingers through his hair. Out of everyone she’s one of the people he trusted the most. He picks up his phone, and his fingers hover across Wren’s number – she’d have been the first person he called over a week ago.
Something in his heart painfully twists at the thought, before he snaps out of it. His fingers fluidly fine Jayde’s number. He doesn’t want to involve Wren any more than she’s already been involved. Besides…this is pack business. “Maybe Jayde’s heard something.” He mutters to Donny, then hooks the phone to his ears as he gingerly starts picking up his furniture.
It rings twice before Jayde’s smooth voice fills his ear. “Cal,” she doesn’t sound surprise to hear him. “I was about to call you –”
“Did something happen?” His ears perk up in alarm.
“Sort of.” A pause. “Not really. Just someone left a threatening note for Nick, Theo and Saline. I’m over by them now, trying to calm them down.”
“Shit.” Cal lets out a harsh breath, then another expletive.
“Yeah. Well, thankfully no one’s hurt – just a lot of panic.” She sighs, “I can still catch their scent and you won’t like it, but –”
“You think it’s the wolves from the pub.” Cal finishes for her, “yeah I had…an unpleasant visit from them too.”
“Those assholes.” She curses viciously, “are you hurt? Is Donny hurt?’
“No, we’re okay.” He mutters reassuringly, “it’s just my pride that’s been dealt a blow. I didn’t think they had the balls to do something like this. Breaking the law draws unnecessary and unwanted attention. I still have to call this in – but I’m not sure I want to since….” He trails off, letting out another expletive.
“It’s your call.” Her response is almost immediate. “I’m with you no matter what you decide.”
He smiles to himself; reassured by her loyalty. He can always count on his Beta to have his back. “I’m going to hold off for now – at least until I get a better sense of who did this. I have a funny feeling it’s Derek so I need eyes and ears to check if he’s still in town.”
“You’ve got it. Pete and a bunch of us can go around town checking. If he’s still in NOLA, there’s nowhere he can go where we won’t find him.” She promises.
He mutters a thank you, then clears his throat. “There’s still Kavinsky to deal with. I’ve finally gotten a chance to meet with him – but he’s all the way in New York. He wants to meet - tomorrow.”
“You want me to babysit Donny?” Her tone is dry and a little curt if not amused by the idea.
Cal winces guilty at the implication. “Not…babysit,” he hinges, shifting uncomfortably on his feet – aware that his brother isn’t far away and probably listening to every word. “Just...check in on him every once in a while, especially after this. I need to know he’s safe.” He takes a deep breath, “I know it’s a lot to ask for – especially after asking you to look out for those other kids –”
“Don’t worry about it, I can get Pete to help out.” She intercedes, “You’re family and you never turn your back on family.”
“Thanks, Jayde. I knew I could count on you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t make a habit of this.” She warns, but he notes the subtle hint of tenderness in her tone. “What time’s your flight?”
“It’s in a couple of hours, I was okay with leaving Donny on his own before but…” He hesitates.
“Say no more, I’ll be over soon. You’ve always been a terrible packer.”
“Hey!” His protest is adamant, “all I need are the clothes on my back and a pair of boxers.”
“Yup, good call on reaching out to me. If you really think that’s all you need, you’d be in shit if your clothes got ripped clean apart. I’m pretty sure the airlines have a zero tolerance for nudity.”
Cal laughs, taking her jab in stride. “You have a point.”
“See you soon.”
“Oh, and Jayde?”
“What?”
“Watch your back.”
-
It’s evening by the time Cal’s hears the sound of Jayde’s familiar truck parking outside of his driveway.
Cal and Donny spent the better half of the day fixing up the place as much as they can, but without an extra pair of hands – the process has been slow and only downstairs has been mostly put-together.
At the sound of Jayde’s car though, Donny takes this as his opportunity to stop – and quickly rushes to the door before Cal can stop him.
He opens the door with enthusiasm – meeting Jayde’s concern stare as her eyes looked him over. “Hey! You’re here.”
“Yeah,” she holds up a large brown paper bag. “And I brought dinner.”
“Thanks,” Cal appears in the hall seconds later, greeting Jayde with a slight nod and smile as she closes the door behind her.
“I figured you guys were too busy to actually think about food so.” Her eyes do a double-take at the state of their place, “shit – they really did a number on you guys, huh?”
“They’re lucky they left before we got back.” Cal grunts, taking the bag from her. “Otherwise, their luck would have ran out.”
“I would have paid to see that.”
Laughing, Cal brings the bag to the kitchen with a very hungry Donny behind him – his hands keep reaching for the bag, and Cal has to out-maneuver himself out of his brother’s greedy grasp. “Wait. Let’s get Jayde a drink or something.”
Donny manages a slight whine as his shoulders drop.
Jayde chuckles, “I’m good. I ate on my way over.” She gestures to them, leaning against the counter as Cal starts unpacking its content. “Go ahead. I got chinese food; it was on the way.”
“Thanks, seriously we owe you one.”
“You owe me more than one Lowell.” She makes a point of rolling her eyes. “But this – this is free.”
Donny mutters a word of thanks as he grabs plates from the cupboard.
“So, how’s putting the house back together going?” She starts, folding her arms as she does another glance around the kitchen.
“It’s going…you’ve actually caught us in a good spot. If you saw this place a couple hours go,” Cal sighs. “It’s going to take me forever to replace some of this shit.” Just the thought of it, makes him want to toss his wallet in the trash.
“The pack can help,” Jayde offers. “You know we can.”
“I wouldn’t ask that of anyone – we’ll manage. We always do.” He ruffles the top of Donny’s head as he passes him.
Donny throws him a dirty glare; his mouth – half stuffed with chow mein.
“The offer still stands,” she says stubbornly, dropping her hands to grip the counter. “At least it does for me.” She glances away, “I can’t just sit by and do nothing.”
“You’re doing more than enough.” He reassures her with a soft smile. “Honestly, sometimes I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
Donny slurps in apparent agreement, his noodles making a soft wet noise as they disappear into his mouth.
They both laugh, and it’s the most normal Cal has felt since Wren left. It’s a weird feeling, laughing again – he’d forgotten what it feels like. He sobers up at the thought, digging into his own food now that he’s found a bowl big enough for his appetite. He inhales its aroma, letting out a sigh of pleasure at the scent of all the flavors – all mingled together into one delicious bowl. “Ugh, this smells so good.”
“When was the last time he ate?” Jayde asks, passing a look onto Donny. “Because if this smells good to him –”
“Days ago,” Donny replies without missing a beat, meeting her stare for a moment and then dropping it back to his food. “Unless you count beer as a food group.”
“Hey! A lot of beers are actually made with wheat.” But Cal is surprised by how much concern is in Donny’s voice – had he been worried about him this entire time.
“You miss her.” A tender look crosses Jayde’s often no-nonsense expression.
“Not you too.” Cal groans, dropping a hand to cover his face. “I don’t need this from you.”
“I’m just saying – it’s obvious to anyone that knows you. You’re miserable without her.”
Cal moves his hand away quick enough to notice the shared look across Donny and his Beta’s face. “See? I told you!” Donny points a finger at him. “You’re actually a pain in the ass to be around right now.”
“Yeah well, -” Cal fumbles with a witty remark and ends up letting out a foul curse instead. “You get your heartbroken and tell me if you’d do any better.” That probably isn’t the best response either.
“I wouldn’t have to get my heartbroken,” Donny snorts, rolling his eyes. “Because whoever I end up with, I wouldn’t be dumb enough to let them go!” He fires back.
Cal response is to chuck some of his noodles at his brother.
Donny ducks at the last second, sticking out his tongue in triumph
“Maybe Wren is right – you are a little shit.”
“Alright, that’s enough.” Jayde’s voice shifts their attention onto her. Although her eyes are sparking with amusement, she remains tight-lipped. She makes a point of staring at Cal, “you should finish eating, so I can help you pack.”
“That won’t be necessary –”
“Cal.” She says his name with so much emphasis that he halts inside his tracks – pausing with his fork mere inches away from his mouth. “You are not leaving this house with nothing except the clothes on your back. That’s ridiculous.”
Cal shrugs, meekly dropping his gaze back to his bowl. “Who cares?” It’s not like he had anyone he wanted to impress; without Wren – everything he does feels less important somehow, especially his clothes. Who cares if he only intends to leave with the shirt on his back and these pair of jeans?
“Your hygiene will thank you later.”
“Maybe.” He says glumly, stabbing food on his fork. Another look passes between Donny and Jayde and he barely catches the end of it before the wolf in him goes tense; irritated by their secret communication. “What?”
“Nothing.” They both say almost simultaneously.
“No, it’s obviously something.” He insists.
“I don’t…I don’t think you’re ready to hear it.” Jayde mutters.
Sure enough, Cal doesn’t like the note of pity in her voice. Instead of answering, he swiftly finishes the rest of his meal and gets to his feet. “You’re right, I don’t.” His tone is terse, “I’m going to get packing. Wash up Donny.”
Without as much of a backward glance, he heads to his bedroom.
-
Hours later, Cal Lowell stands in front of the airport with a duffel bag across his shoulders and a dejected-looking Donny and Jayde standing behind him. He takes one long look at his brother and drops his bag, embracing the younger Lowell without a second thought.
He brushes his hands through his brother’s hair; the way he used to when he was small. It brings him some comfort, knowing he’s leaving him with his pack. They have his back, and even though he’ll miss him like terrible – he knows he has to do this. He has to keep everyone safe.
“I’ll be back.” Cal promises.
Donny’s hands slide to clutch his back, his fingers digging into his shirt as his entire body seems to shake. A soft sob escapes his throat.
The sound makes Cal hug his brother even tighter.
“You better.” Donny says fiercely, pulling away. He rubs his eyes, and “If you don’t come back Cal, I’m going to spend the rest of my life pissing on your grave.”
Despite the seriousness in his voice, Cal laughs and pats him affectionately on the shoulder. Then he steps back, gesturing to himself with a timid smile. “I’ll be back before you even know it.”
Then he shifts his gaze to Jayde, his expression turning somber.
She’s only an inch shorter but she’s never looked as small as she does now. Her eyes are fixed ahead and her jaw is clenched as if the very effort would stop her from crying.
But Cal senses the change in her mood.
They don’t need words when they look at each other, not when he can tell how terrified she is for him. He steps forward, extending his arms out and she crumples in his arms. He listens to the sound of breathing, uneven as it is while she hugs him back. When they pull apart again, she’s much more herself – steel and resolute, with barely anything more than a subtle hint of vulnerability.
“Don’t die.” She says curtly.
They’re both well aware that there’s no guarantee he’ll make it back, thus instead of answering Cal nods – shifting to shake her hand before grabbing his duffel bag again and throwing it across his broad shoulders. “I’ll see you guys on Monday.” He promises with what he hopes, is a reassuring smile.
It’s a short trip he has to make and if all goes well, he’ll be able to make it back before it impacts the flow of his own life. “Watch out for the pack while I’m gone.”
Donny remains silent, but Jayde wraps an arm around the younger Lowell’s shoulders and gives Cal a reassuring smile in return.
Waving, Cal faces the airport’s entrance head-on. He swallows back the nerves that have built up at the idea of leaving, but he can’t back down now. He knows he has to do this. Not just for Donny, or his pack but for Wren too. He has to keep everyone safe.
-
The wait doesn’t take long. He thinks it’s because he’s gotten here at the right time – a mere two hours before his flight. Still, Cal is nervous. There’s something unsettling about being this high in the air. Wolves don’t belong in the sky; they belong on the ground – with their paws digging into soil and the quiet company of nature.
He gnaws lightly at the corner of his mouth as pre-boarding commences.
Still, Cal has too much time to think. And too much time to think leads him to a dangerous place; particularly one that’s a little under six feet with wide hips and a killer smile.
Ugh, he should really stop thinking about her.
But what’s one day compared to the countless amount of times he’s nearly picked up his phone with the intent of calling her. When everything is slow and there are no distractions to keep the desire well – he struggles as he does now, waiting in line to hand the airlines his boarding ticket.
He checks his phone and his fingers hover over the series of drafts he’s left for in his inbox. He’s still too afraid to press send, knowing there’s a good chance she won’t respond back. And that – that would hurt. Too much.
His hands begin to shake as he fumbles through the unsent messages, deleting them one at a time until there are none left. But closing his phone and placing it back into his back pocket is easier said than done. It doesn’t deter him from wanting to reach out to her.
The seconds tick by and Cal glances impatiently at the front of line. He’s still got an ample amount of people before him.
Barely stifling a sigh, he relents to the little voice inside his head telling him to message her. With trembling fingers, he finally does it; he types a short message right before the line moves.
Hey, if you’re looking for some time to take your stuff out – I won’t be home until Monday.
Cal nearly adds, I miss you to his message but then, vehemently decides against it at the last second. Don’t make things more complicated than they already are. That should be his new motto, because everything he touches seems to fuck up his life even more.
Another shuffle brings him closer at the front of the line. He drops his phone smoothly back inside his jacket and gives the attendant a winsome smile after fishing for his boarding pass.
The woman returns the smile and hands him his passport back seconds before his phone vibrates loud enough for him to stumble and miss a step.
His heart leaps to his throat.
I shouldn’t check it. I shouldn’t. He’s about to be millions of miles away, and whatever she says – won’t change that. But he really wants to – even though it isn’t face-to-face, it’s still her words – her thoughts; pieces of why he’s in love with her.
He bides his time, despite feeling suddenly giddy at the prospect of checking his phone. As he takes his seat, Cal breathes deeply, rolling his shoulders with the motion before checking his phone.
His heart sinks.
Okay.
It’s her only response.
A fucking one-worded answer.
Cal blinks, hoping his eyes are deceiving him. How else can he explain this? Maybe he needs to wait a little longer for something more – there’s no way that’s the only thing she’s wanted to say all this time.
But when nothing else comes, her one-word answer settles in. It seeps through the armor he’s cultivated around his heart, proving the chinks that are still there and buries itself down to his soul.
Shit, it hurts.
Although, the longer he stares at the message – the stint of it disappears, and the more furious it makes him feel. To think, he’d have done anything for her – if she’d responded telling him not to go, he would have struggled with the idea of leaving. He would have hopped off the plane to get to her.
Uttering a soft curse, Cal doesn’t just put his phone away – he shuts off the stupid thing without a second glance and nearly tosses out of the window. Barely squelching the urge, he pockets it and changes the angle of his seat in order to lean back and peer at his ceiling. Closing his eyes, he breathes in deeply – fighting to remain calm while the plane finishes its last-minute preparations before take-off.
-
This isn’t Cal’s first trip to New York.
He’s been here a few times, mostly on pack business – especially when Kristoff needed him to pick up special packages that only Kavinsky has. Still, it’s his first time on his own and there’s a sense of thrill and awe when he glances up to admire the tallest buildings in Times Square.
Unlike NOLA, there is no time for taking a few minutes to simply enjoy the sun. There doesn’t seem to be time to simply watch and stroll across the city. NYC is practically packed to the brim with people. There could be no time for that even if he tried. Instead, city natives constantly move, running into each other and too wrapped up within their own little world to even apologize when they’ve stepped on his feet. They are more than content with keeping their attention hooked to their phones and crossing the street before the light changes.
The atmosphere is far different too. It makes Cal yearn to be home again, because unlike NYC, people aren’t in such a crazy rush to run him over. Another hard shove into his shoulder convinces Cal that it won’t get any better. He has to bite back the snarl that’s lodged in his throat as the stranger ignores him and continues to push his way past the crowd.
It’s ridiculous.
The wolf in him concurs with statement.
After taking a few calming breaths, Cal switches gears and focuses all his train of thoughts from the tall billboards’ advertisements, to double-checking the address on his phone for the place where they’re supposed to meet. At the last second, Kavinsky changed their dinner plans from a restaurant into an invitation to view his own personal and modern collection.
The sudden change of plans had struck Cal as something uneasy, but he knows it’s not his place to decline a host – especially a host of such caliber. If anything, he’s heard about Kavinsky is true, he’s definitely someone you want to have in your pocket.
And yet, the very nature of his visit would make it hard to earn Kavinsky trust. Cal is starting to think if he’s going to have any hope of getting Kavinsky’s guard down, he has to run the risk of minding what he says and his own body language.
Stuffing his hands inside his pockets, Cal hails a cab and reads the address.
-
The place is huge. It’s one of the biggest buildings he’s ever seen, at little later in evening – and Cal has seen his fair share over the years. But standing in front of the entrance, staring up at it with awe – there seems to be no end to how long and impassive the gray building stretches. He’s almost tempted run laps around the acres of land.
Thankfully, his better senses quell the urge – but just barely. He boards the steps of the large French doors and is almost taken aback by the man waiting for him.
He’s almost the same height, familiar in build as he stretches out a beefy arm to introduce himself. His balding scalp seems to glint underneath the fluorescent lights just above their heads. “Mr. Lowell, I’m Mr. Klempf.” He extends his hand, “Mr. Kavinsky is expecting you.”
Cal shakes his hand in stride, smiling earnestly despite not being able to see past the man’s shades. He’s better with faces than he is at actual names.
“If you’ll please follow me.” The guard steps in front of him, pushing the metal doors of the entrance open and holding it until Cal steps through.
The place is even more breathtaking inside than its outside, not that Cal has the most avid interest in history – but there’s a variety of collections encased surrounding him after taking the second flight of stairs. His eyes stop to marvel at the sight of several tablets; they’re all written in hieroglyphics and a series of images of undead and marks of something he can only describe as dark energy with an accompanying of two unfamiliar and very large claw marks. He whistles. “This place is beautiful.”
Mr. Kelmpf seems to concur with a nod. “Mr. Kavinsky desires and deserves only the best.”
Before Cal is able to respond– the man of the hour emerges and interrupts the flow of their conversation with a loud clap from the third floor of the building. The first thing that catches Cal attention is how finely tailored his suit is and the well-polished appearance of his shoes; this is a man that radiates wealth and likes to show it. He tips his fedora back in a formal greeting and the sideburns of his grey hair peeks from underneath from the motion, before he settles it smoothly back and grins widely at him. “Cal Lowell,” he drawls. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Mr. Kavinsky,” Cal starts, stepping forward until Mr. Klempf by the same motion – maintains distance between them.
“Please. Call me Langdon.” His smile grows wider. “All my friends do.”
“Well, Langdon.” Cal inclines his head, “I was hoping to have a chance to see your collection.” He gestures broadly, “after hearing about it from another alpha.” He says the words coolly, straightening his shoulders as the slightly taller man ignores the bodyguard to step around him.
He grips his hand into a firm handshake. “I’ve done work for a lot of packs Cal, you have to be more specific than that.” His grey eyes are carefully blank but Cal detects a hint of suspicion in his voice.
“Kristoff.” He says without a second thought, “you remember him, don’t you?”
“Ah of course.” Kavinsky nods sagely, “I heard he kicked it. My thoughts are with you and your pack on losing such a good alpha.” He makes a point of clapping him on his shoulder. “But how much suffering are you really doing – when you’ve won your challenge of becoming alpha.”
“You heard about that?” Cal blinks in surprise. He attempts to conceal his shock with a laugh. “And hear I thought I was damned fresh news.”
Kavinsky barks out a laugh before gesturing Cal to follow him up the stairs. “No news is new to me.”
“Your circle of influence must stretch pretty far then.” He observes, keeping a length of a few feet from the man as they enter another hall. The back of hairs stands at attention with Mr. Klempf’s sudden close proximity of remaining only a few inches behind him
“Yeah, it does. But that ain’t why you’re here, I reckon.” Kavinsky changes the subject, stopping short of another set of doors that has Cal wondering why the sudden change in conversation.
“You wanted to see my newest supply of wolfbane right?”
Cal nods, “yeah. We’ve been out for a while. We’re desperate.” It’s the only cover story he concocted with Jayde that makes any reasonable amount of sense. He clears his throat, “and I’ve brought what Kristoff would have paid for in kind –”
“Let me show you first.” He interrupts, raising up a hand. “I can’t do a deal if my customers don’t have a look to see what our supply looks like. It don’t make a lick of sense.” He laughs and his bodyguard joins in shortly after. “We’ll get to that other part soon enough.” Jerking his chin at Mr. Klempf, the beefy guard disappears for a moment before returning with a pair of metallic cuffs.
At the sight of them, Cal’s throat goes dry. The wolf in him stands alert, tensing as he takes a cautionary step back. “I don’t –”
“This old thing?” Kavinsky interrupts with a smile. Although the smile doesn’t reach his eyes, his body language remains utterly calm that has Cal feeling a little less unsure. “It’s just a precaution, you see. You’re a werewolf Cal. An alpha nonetheless, and I’m a meek little human.” He gestures to himself. “We just met – and I can’t have you walking around all willy-nilly with all my collections just primed for the taking.”
Cal’s nostrils flare in anger. “I wouldn’t –”
“Steal anything?” He finishes for him, shaking his head. “I’ve heard it all before, but we’ve still had some larceny in the past. We’ve just met Cal. You don’t know me – and I sure as hell, don’t know you.”
“If Kristoff was here, he’d be able to vouch for me.”
“But he’s not here, is he?” His eyes narrow a fraction. “He died to a bloodwraith that you brought down unto the pack – if memory serves me right.” He throws his hands up in a gesture as if to dare Cal to prove him wrong.
But Cal knows he’s right and he flinches at the memory. He’d long ago thought he parted with the guilt that came at acknowledging in part that some of why Kristoff died was his fault. When he brought Wren in, he didn’t think the thing could have torn his alpha apart, he was supposed to be a legend - and damn near untouchable. But he died. And sometimes, the images resurface – the screams, the fighting and all the blood; manages to find a way despite all his attempts at burying it deep within himself.
“Believe me when I say I take no pleasure in doing this, it’s just for safety. You understand, don’t ya?” His gaze turns insistent, although he drops a hand while the other remains where it is as though warding Mr. Klempf from cuffing Cal. “I won’t do anything without your permission, I need it if I’m gonna have my big fellow over here cuff ya.” His voice is eerily steady as he jerks his chin at him.
A few seconds passed in silence as Cal tries to wrack his brain for alternative – anything is preferable than wearing handcuffs. It isn’t just the idea of them, it’s what they represent. Collared, as if he’s some kind of rabid dog. The wolf in him glowers at the implication, but try as he might, he can’t find another option.
The wolfsbane reasoning isn’t completely an excuse; they are in need of some – although, if they aren’t desperate enough for it yet. And if he’s going to form any sort of relationship with this man, he needs to show he can be trusted. Even if it’s only in pretense. Still, the idea of wearing cuffs doesn’t sit well with him. The wolf in him is ready to pounce at the earliest sign of danger – and one whiff of those spells danger.
But how far is he willing to take this? How much can he rationalize for the pack and for his own sake? He fights to stay in control, biting back a snarl that rises in his throat. Slowly, he extends his wrists towards Mr. Klempf with a disgruntled sigh. “Alright, if this is a sign of trust that you need – I can give it.”
Mr. Klempf’s gaze is unreadable as he slides the metallic cuffs around his wrist. They snap with a slight clink and it takes all of Cal’s willpower not to try and tear them off. His heartbeat races a little faster and he has to take several deep breaths before he’s able to feel himself again. “Alright, what next?”
“Next, you follow me.” Kavinsky waits expectantly for his bodyguard to push the doors open Cal’s amazement at the building’s infrastructure turns into bewilderment and disbelief.
“W-what the fuck?” He sputters, now eyeing the room as a an overwhelming sense of danger overrides his shock.
Seemingly boxing him in, all around Cal are giant-looking cylinders indicating another assortment of collection that Kavinsky has. But it isn’t similar to previous ones he’s seen – as he steps closer to one of the tanks – these are most definitely unconscious people and not wondrous artifacts that grabs his attention.
What the actual fuck?
No matter how long he stares, nothing changes. He isn’t simply seeing things from hunger and sleep deprivation. They are all different sorts of supernaturals beings littered across the room in those containers – goblins, ghouls and zombies – even bizarre-looking monsters Cal can’t identify as he stumbles back. “What the hell –” he blinks again, hoping it’s not as bad as it looks, but it is so much worse. “What the hell is this?” He whirls to face them just in time to see Mr. Klempf locking the door behind them with a distinct click.
Kavinsky’s laugh is heinous enough to make Cal’s skin crawl. “This, my newest specimen – is my newest and greatest collection.” His eyes are bright with an eerie light to them as he spreads his arms wide. “What good is it to have a collection of only simple and magical artifacts – when the world presents an opportunity for so much more?” He drops his hands. “I’ve always had a deep fascination…for people like you.”
Cal stares, open-mouthed at him while the wolf stirs inside him with undeniable rage. All those people trapped. “You sick fuck –” The moment he takes a threatening step towards the man, seething with rage – the cuffs around his wrist lets out a hiss.
Little shocks immediately jolt him into standing still. Cal flinches in agony as stinging pain replaces anger. “Ahh!” He cries out, stumbling to keep himself upright. The pain doesn’t just stop there – it turns into a consistent stream of shock that has knees buckling underneath him.
An abrupt and sinister laugh fills the room.
“You ain’t foolish enough to think I’d let such a prize piece out of here? C’mon Cal.” Kavinsky tsks, his lips forming a sneer. “Shaw’s told me about you, but I had to see for myself. He did not disappoint.” Patting his chest with his hat, he grins. “Who am I to let go of such an opportunity pass me? An alpha in his prime?” He whistles, “that would be such a waste”
Cal bares his teeth, taking a more hostile stance. “It’s not too late to let me go, we don’t have to do this.” He says between clenched teeth, but he isn’t looking for a reason to surrender. Truthfully, he’s more than eager to kick his ass.
He lets at a howl, bones crunching as he starts shifting in front of them. But just as quickly as it starts, it’s finished. The cuffs around his wrists sends another jolt, too severe for him to concentrate and his feet buckle before he hits the floor.
Slam.
Everything hurts.
He lets out another howl but it’s an agony as he struggles to get back to his feet. “If you think that’s going to stop me –” The third jolt threatens to pull him under and Cal mashes his teeth together to stop himself from screaming. His entire body thrums with pain as the wolf inside him whelps in pain.
“Oh, I think we really do Mr. Lowell.”
His body convulses when he tries to sit up. Get up, get up. But he can’t, everything hurts too much. “I swear to god, when I get out of here –”
“Get out of here? This is your new home Cal, better get used to it.”
Cal tries to push past the pain, to utter some snide remark but unfortunately, his body isn’t cooperating. He can barely breathe as another layer of pain washes over him; flooding the rest of his system one agonizing moment after another. Somehow, he manages to muster enough willpower to glare up at Kavinsky, his twisted smile the last thing he sees before another spark of pain flares and pulls him under.
-
#cal lowell#cal x mc fanfic#cal lowell fanfiction#playchoices#nightbound#cal x mc#cal x mc fanfiction#playchoices fanfiction#choices stories you play#long post#part five#yeehaww#here we go with more!#cal x wren#cal lowell x wren howell#poor cal#not a lot of romance in this chapter#but it all serves a purpose believe me!#langdon kavinsky#donny lowell#nightbound fanfiction#an angstymarshmallow writes#now here we are kind of catching up with the events that happened in bb#except for my story - it happens a year later after cal and mc have already met
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Someone Who Isn’t The Equivalent...
A/N: Here is my first real request! I had fun writing this...so please if you’re interested in requesting, look at my list of who I am willing to write for, or ask me in private message. I always answer!! :)
Pairing: Sweet Pea x reader, references of Reggie x reader, references of old sweet pea x josie
Summary: Sweet pea and the reader are going through the same situation; they are both stuck in an unofficial relationship. After one too many times being blown off or neglected by Reggie, the reader is starting to have enough. Her and sweet pea start to notice that they are going through the same thing, and confide in each other...and maybe something good will come out of it. They do both know what the other person wants.
Warning: toxic relationship references
Regret filled the air as Reggie slid his shirt back on, giving you a smirk. “I gotta run, my dad will be pissed if I’m not home for dinner. Can I make a rain check on Pop’s?” He asked casually and you shrug, pulling the blankets up over your body. This wasn’t the first time that Reggie has cancelled actual plans outside of your house...actually it was the second time this week, and its only Wednesday.
“Sure Reg, but can I ask you a question?” You ask turning to face him as he slides on his shoes. He looks up at you with an eyebrow raised. The sorrow in your voice ticked him off slightly. How could you be upset after what you two just did? He nods, awaiting the inquiry, even though you know he was impatient. “Are we gonna ever go on a real date, or am I just a booty call?” You question and he scoffs.
“Why do you always have to get sappy? We had a good time-”
“You’re ignoring the question.” You note with a sigh, turning back to face away from him as he grabs his phone and keys from your bed stand, and starts for the door.
“I’ll talk to you later Y/N, alright?” Reggie says briefly, exiting your bedroom, closing the door behind him. You knew you wouldn’t hear from Reggie again that night. You got up to take a shower, knowing the hot water may cleanse you from all your gloominess. Taking your phone off the charger for music in the shower, you see a text from Toni, asking you if you want to go to Pop’s with her, Cheryl, Kevin, Fangs, and Sweet Pea. Knowing it would be better than being stuck home alone with your thoughts and the cancelled plans with Reggie, you told her you’d be there in 30, and jumped into the shower. You didn’t need Reggie to have fun, especially with Kevin, Toni and Cheryl around. You and Cheryl did not always get along, but Toni definitely brought out her best traits.
Entering Pop’s, all your friends turned to see you, signaled by the bell. “Damn Y/N...took you a long time. Were you with Mental or something?” Cheryl asked with a giggle at her own nickname for Reggie and you shrugged, not showing the little pang you felt in your chest from her referencing him. You took your seat next to Kevin, across from the tall raven haired serpent you’d only spoken to maybe three times.
“If I was with him, I’m not now, so guess that’s all that matters...right?” You say, laced with brusqueness. Cheryl was of course taken aback, which made your face soften. You knew she didn’t do anything to you, so she didn’t deserve that. “Sorry. Long day.” You apologize and she waves it off. She was one to be angered by a little snappiness. That was basically her name at times.
After ordering your shake, you’d listened to Toni, Kevin and Cheryl give the group the latest gossip. You weren’t all that in the mood for gossip, but the fact that their faces lit up when they talked about it, made you happy. Fangs seemed into it too, but Sweet pea couldn’t look more somber. He was staring down at his phone, fingers typing a million miles per minute. You tried not to show your interest, but when he looked up and met your eyes with his hard brown ones, you couldn’t help but cower. No matter what Toni or Fangs say, he is not always a softy. He gave some mean looks, and this was the first time you’d ever been on the receiving end. That made you think back to the time when Reggie always talked about him, hating the serpents, all that bull-crap that you constantly tried to change. It was no use at the time. But now thinking about it, made you wonder why everything in your head went back to Reginald Mantle. You stood up, pushing your phone into your pocket. “Excuse me for a minute, I’ll be right back.” You excuse yourself and everyone nods. Making your way to the surprisingly clean bathroom, you looked at yourself in the mirror; your hair was normal, clothes were normal, but it was obvious there wasn’t something right in your face. Hearing your phone ‘Ding’, you looked down to see Toni’s name flash across the screen.
From TT: Do I need to come in there? Do you wanna talk privately?
You smile at the text, knowing she was worried. But did you wanna talk about it? But then you get another text, this one from Kevin.
From Kevin Keller: Incoming! Reginald Mantle just entered with the bulldogs!
Your eyes widened. “My dad will be pissed if I don’t make it to dinner, my ass!” you whisper to yourself, looking in the mirror once more before exiting the bathroom, making sure to strut just a little harder than normal, in case Reggie looked over. Sitting back at the table, all eyes but Sweet Pea’s were on you.
“I though-”
“It’s stupid. Let’s talk about something else.” You say and Fangs nods, seeing as there were a few vixens with them. This was casual, but he still lied to you. From the look on Sweet Pea’s face, it wasn’t something he wanted to see either, and it didn’t take long for you to guess why. Josie McCoy was with them. Sweet pea huffed, getting up out of the booth and practically stomping out of Pop’s. You felt for the kid. Of course, hanging around Toni you knew he liked her. You didn’t understand why, it seemed she treated him like trash in public, the one time you had seen them together or even remotely near each other in public that is. You followed the leather clad serpent, the bell dinging behind you as well.
“Hey Sweet Pea!” You say as he reaches his bike, he turns on his heels, seemingly not too afraid to bite if he didn’t like what you had to say.
“What do you want?” He snaps, clearly not in the neutral mood anymore. You sighed, knowing that Sweet Pea was easily frustrated, and you didn’t want to set him off. But you did want to say something. It wasn’t new for the group you’d been with to see him get walked on, even if Josie didn’t know she was doing it.
“Listen, I’m not trying to pity you, or make a sympathy group or anything...but I saw that in there. And it isn’t fair for you to leave without your shake, all angry. It isn’t safe to drive like that.” You reason and he cocks his head, raising an eyebrow at you. You could see the disdain on his face.
“Why would I want Mantle’s girlfriend telling me how to spend my night, and how to feel?” He asks and you narrow your eyes. Him calling you Reggie’s girlfriend made you more mad than you expected it ever would, but the way he said it felt patronizing. It caused your face to get hot.
“I am -not- Reggie’s girlfriend. But don’t you dare take out your anger for Josie on me, because I am just trying to be friendly. But you know what? I’m sick of standing up for people who don’t deserve it. You? Reggie? You’re all the same. Nobody else’s feelings matter but yours.” You say and start back for the diner, hands clenched. You were already agitated when you arrived, so it wouldn’t take much to really get you going.
You just barely reached the door when you heard hesitant footsteps. “Hey, wait. My bad, okay?” Sweet Pea says, reluctance and distance clear in his tone as he reaches the door with you, his hand holding it closed so you couldn’t enter. You turned around, and it was now your turn to raise an eyebrow at him.
“Sure. Your bad. Reggie is not my boyfriend. I thought he was, but he’s not. He is just playing me, so now that that is cleared, may I go?” You ask and he surprises you with a chuckle. It was a smooth laugh, that seemed genuine.
“May you go? Do you always have to be so polite?” He asked with a scoff. “You’re too good for Reggie, maybe you should ask your friend Cheryl to set you up with someone who isn’t the human equivalent to cat puke.” Sweet pea says honestly, letting go of the door. You weren’t sure if you really were having this conversation with Sweet Pea, or if you’d passed out in the ladies room. But it seemed to vivid to be fake. You could smell the burgers from inside, the smell of gas from the constant traffic on the road, and especially; Sweet Pea’s leather and cologne smell. It was exactly how Josie explained it to you, Toni and Cheryl in the locker room.
“Thank you?” You said turning to face the -very- tall serpent. You let your eyes hover on the tattoo that covered a small part of his neck. It was always much larger seeming from far away, jumping out at you when you saw it like a reflector on a bike. “You’re too good for Josie. Maybe you should ask your friend Toni to set you up with someone who isn’t the human equivalent to a children’s tea cup set.” You say and let out a chuckle, opening the door and entering. But this time you felt good meeting Reggie’s pouty eyes. Because Sweet Pea was right. He is the human equivalent to cat throw up, and you deserved better. It would be hard, but you can’t see Reggie anymore. That was the bottom line. When you reached the red booths once more, you heard the door open. You turned around to see Sweet Pea looking rather cheerful.
“Couldn’t forget to finish my shake, right?” He says sending you a sideways glance that you try to ignore, but end up cracking a smile instead. You shook your head as your friends eyed you both, as well as Josie and Reggie on the other side of the diner. It felt nice.
“God that would be a shame.” You comment sarcastically as you take the cup and slide it over to yourself, taking a sip. “God no, this is amazing.” You note, cracking a grin. You didn’t even like the flavor, but it was not that that mattered.
“So Cheryl, Y/N said she wants you to set her up with someone who doesn’t have the personality of cat puke.” Sweet pea piped up after a moment of silence. You gasped, sliding the shake back over.
“Um, no. He suggested it.” You remind him with narrowed eyes. Cheryl rolls her eyes.
“Toni said you two would be cute together a week ago.” She pipes up and you both whip your heads over to Toni. She had a bright grin on her face that mirrored Kevin’s.
“Whoa, I never said me.” Sweet Pea puts his large hands up in surrender, but Fangs throws them down, finally piping up into the conversation, sounding particularly jocular.
“You implied it my man.” Sweet pea shook his head, going defense mode, but more gentle and teasingly than he would normally, as it was Fangs he was talking to. He patted him on the shoulder patronizingly.
“You wouldn’t know that. You have a body count of like one.”
WANT A P2?
#riverdale#fanfiction#riverdale imagines#riverdale fanfic#sweet pea#sweet pea x reader#sweet pea imagines#southside serpents#requests open#new writers on tumblr#reggie mantle#x reader#the cw riverdale
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aheavenlyrush replied to your post “I’ve been on tumblr since 2012 and I was even a John Green fan for a...”
i checked and it happened in 2015
aheavenlyrush replied to your post “I’ve been on tumblr since 2012 and I was even a John Green fan for a...”
i saw that jg post on my feed and i had no energy to comment on it but truly when i saw that you had i felt such relief!! i remember making that one post about stiefvater defending him and telling teenage girls to be quiet and the response to it still fucking haunts me i swear
Oy, was it really that recently? The last three years have taken 900 years. And yeah... Maggie Stiefvater’s post about it was a Really Bad Look, and iirc that was the environment that spawned the beginning of the batshit “Keep YA Kind”* concern-trolling thing (yep, also 2015) that was mainly used to silence girls and women and people of color whenever the four white cishet men in YA fucked up between 2015 and 2018, when it finally publicly came out that most of them were, yk, fucking up because they’re legitimately horrible people and maybe the people calling them out should have been taken seriously.
* The other notable “why the fuck is this happening???? why is HE the one getting the sympathy here?????” events from “Keep YA Kind,” which, listen, I would bet you anything that it was very very nearly called “Keep Kidlit Kind” until the only person involved with 1/4 of a braincell managed to realize the acronym on their Twitter handle looked REALL BAD:
Andrew Smith, a straight white adult man, says out loud with his human adult man mouth, that he knows he can’t write female characters well and relies on fetishization and stereotypes because he never really met a girl until his daughter (??? SO WHAT IS YOUR WIFE, ANDREW? CHOPPED LIVER?) and, being as that is Bullshit and also his books were also being lauded as though they were Infinite fucking Jest Jr. even though the interview in question was for a book in which mutant grasshoppers take over the earth and a teenage boy gets trapped in a bunker with a teenage girl who eventually has to git to birthin’ babies she doesn’t want and isn’t medically prepared to have safely For The Good Of Humanity, he’s called out.
He’s called out mostly on a technical, writing level at first, even! Like, “Here’s how to write a female character: you write a fully considered, well-rounded character. They’re a girl.” And Andrew Smith FLIPS HIS SHIT, does some op-ed about how his mother used to beat him so he can’t see girls as people, and makes his twitter private. The “Keep YA Kind” sycophants support him HARD.
And then this happens to pop up on a mysterious Twitter that just HAPPENS to start while HIS twitter’s offline...
NOTE: Jay Asher, author of 13 Reasons Why, was literally dropped from his publisher and SCWBI for being a sexual predator. So like, I don’t think he was bullied, I think his predation was being remarked upon. Like, idk, maybe that he was being called creepy or sth idk idk idk
And then when A.S. decided to unsockpuppet to promote his next book, The Alex Crow, which is about mutant crows and a bunker or whatever:
The “asshole” in specific that Andrew Smith was calling an asshole was delightful human being and fellow author Kate Messner, who, coincidentally, was one of the victims to come out against Lemony Snicket’s sexual harrassment, so she’s had a BULLSHIT time just trying to do her JOB of being an author while female.
Which leads to Tommy Wallach! All-around fucknut! Whose major interest seems to be being That Guy In Philosophy 101 Who Always Has To Be Devil’s Advocate, Even Though No One Asked, and has a deeply vested interest in making sure that teenage girl readers -- who are his target audience, because he chose to write YA, as an adult man who made a choice in what he wrote and chose to make it YA, and not, like, any of the hundreds of genres that AREN’T largely written about and for teenage girls, yk -- know that teenage girls are Dumb. Victoria Schwab actually wrote an essay for YA Books Central about the incessant problem that IS/WAS Tommy Wallach called “We Need To Talk About Tommy” back in -- you guessed it! -- 2016, but it’s offline now and I’m not going to go Wayback it rn.
I’m just going to copypasta YAinterrobang’s Wallach timeline because he’s exhausting, he reminds me of undergrad.
Wallach’s continual pattern of behavior is worth discussing, especially in the context of sexism in YA and the continual marginalization of “diverse” voices in the community despite the efforts of the We Need Diverse Books movement.
Wallach’s problematic behavior runs back over a year, starting with a defense of Andrew Smith where he ignores the opinions of author and advocate Tessa Gratton in favor of a dictionary definition of sexism. (Andrew Smith’s behavior and the fallout around his statements have, of course, already been documented on YA Interrobang in “The Curious Case of Andrew Smith, Twitter & sexism.”) Wallach postures that women are inherently “other” from men, accuses Gratton of “gin[ning]up the controversy” and explains that he is a feminist because he was “raised by a single working mother and she’s still my best friend in the world.”
[View Wallach’s defense of Smith and attack on Gratton as a .pdf.]
Fast forward to later that year. Author Justina Ireland takes to Twitter to discuss a book where she feels the black character is self-hating. Ireland, being black herself, is asked about the book in question; she says that it’s Wallach’s debut novel We All Looked Up. Though Wallach is not tagged, he swoops into the conversation and demands Ireland provide proof that his character Anita is self-hating before claiming that author Dhonielle Clayton, who is also black, is friends with him and “engaged” with him on the issues in the book.
Clayton later stated publicly that she had not done any sensitivity reading on We All Looked Up.
What brought Wallach’s behavior to the attention of the YA world as a whole came this past November in the wake of the horrifying terrorist attacks in Paris. When the hashtag #prayforparis went viral, Wallach responded with multiple social media posts and a blog post about how atheism was the only belief that could make the world a better place. (Though Wallach argues that it is not, in fact, a belief: “The fact that we have a word for it makes it seem like it’s equivalent to other belief systems, but it’s not. The absence of something is not equivalent to the thing itself.”)
[View Wallach’s comments on atheism as a .pdf.]
After Wallach Tweeted that he was a “a rabid atheist, and the world would be a better place if more folk were” – a Tweet he subsequently deleted before deleting his account in its entirety – he doubled down in a block post that outlined all the way religions failed and all the reasons atheism was awesome.
Those who tried to explain to him why this behavior was – to say the least – problematic found themselves quickly blocked or shut down; at once point, Wallach tried to explain anti-Semitism to Jewish author Hannah Moskowitz before claiming that “if [her]parents are atheists and [his]dad is Jewish, [he’s] as much Jewish as [her].”
(For those wondering, Wallach blocked me during this incident despite being friendly with me and having taken my advice previously; while he did believe me in regards to his behavior towards Justina Ireland, which you can see in Tweets above, my snarky comment to him about “the only good people are the people who are exactly like me” was, apparently, too much for him to take. As Wallach’s account has since been deleted and I purged my social media account in January, that interaction is no longer publicly available.)
Take this behavior in comparison to author LJ Silverman, who recently received a sea of anti-Semitic hate mail – including crude manipulated images of her in an oven – for Tweeting that she was worried about the upcoming election in the context of history. Wallach painted himself to be the victim, somebody “attacked” for insulting all of the religious folks in the YA community, while Silverman, who simply shared a worry plaguing her, became a victim of virulent trolls.
While Wallach deleted his social media accounts after this, there were no public consequences to his actions despite ill-will from the YA community at large. If another member of the YA community had spoken out – one of our Catholic or Islamic or Jewish or Mormon authors, for instance – the backlash would have been substantially worse, possibly career-ruining.
Wallach’s career, however, was not ruined; he recently landed a six-figure deal for a book trilogy centered around a “holy war.”
And thus, we return to Wallach’s dismissive comments on suicide – which, it turned out, were neither new or original. In a blog post deleted after it came to light during this discussion, Wallach rated “the top ten literary suicides (organized by emo-ness)” which included all of the characters of HBO’s Girls – “It’s really just a fantasy of mine.” – and, ranking at number one, Sylvia Plath – who is not a character but a real person who suffered from depression before taking her own life at a young age.
[View Wallach’s post on suicide as a .pdf.]
“I’m only going to talk about the fact that a successful YA author found it appropriate to glorify, romanticize, and mock what for many of his readers is among the highest causes of death,” wrote Schwab in her “We Need To Talk About Tommy” post. “That this author could be so very careless and flippant and insensitive about such a very serious issue is abhorrent. That two years after penning this post he still sees suicide as something to be made light of, to be used as a marketing tool.”
Simon & Schuster made no public comment about any of Wallach’s comments. His career, save for making enemies of some fellow authors, seems relatively unscathed by his callous actions.
Anyway, the moral of the story is, like, if you wanna read books by straight white dudes, go for it, but check them out from the library. Spend your book-buying money on books by women, nonbinary/other folks, and dudes who aren’t straight and/or white. Straight white men, PARTICULARLY in categories of literature that are largely targeted towards girls and women, and largely written by girls and women -- but published, edited, and marketed by other straight white men -- are lauded FAR above what they’re actually worth, as like, storytellers or human people go.
The Glass Escalator is a one-way trip to wonderland, but YA is a skyscraper that was built by women and I PROMISE you, whatever book by one of these dudes you’re considering reading, there’s a better version by a woman and/or person of color on the shelves nearby that just didn’t get 1/10th of the marketing money.
And of course there should be an effort to be kind on social media, but “keep YA kind”... to whom? To the people who were being silenced when they were pointing out legitimate problems with the behaviors of men in social power? (And one of whom, in the case of Jay Asher, was LITERALLY DANGEROUS BC HE IS A SEXUAL PREDATOR.) Like, really? There had to be a hashtag campaign to silence dozens of people with legitimate, not-bullying-just-pointing-out-problems-that-are-problems-with-stuff-you-did-dude problems, to make social media feel more comfortable for four middle-aged straight white men?
As though the outside world isn’t comfortable enough for middle-aged straight white men????
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2018 Year in REVIEW: Part 2
Hello everybody, JoyofCrimeArt here, and it's time to wrap up Deviant-cemnber by finishing this recap. If you're just joining us I'm going over all the events that happened to the cartoon community thought the year of 2018. I'm also ranking all the new series from best to worse, and deciding which network was the quote unquote "winner" of the year. If you haven't seen part one, you can check it out here. 2018 Year in REVIEW: Part 1 But for everyone else, let's get on with the review. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- So at the end of the last part, we had to deal with that whole "Thundercats CalArts" debacle. Not exactly the most "positive" stopping point. So why don't we start this part with something light? Oh hey, look, people are talking about Butch Hartman! He's always good for a laugh. What's he up too?
Oh no...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBOMlWl7fFk
So Butch Hartman, America's dad, started a Kickstarter for his own streaming service. It's called Oaxis and is suppose to be a family friendly streaming service with original programming along the lines of Netflix. Butch asked for 250,000 dollars in order to get the basic groundwork for the site up and running. That's a lot of money to ask for, so there's no way he could actually...Holy crap, he actually did it! The madman pulled it off! Now, there's a lot to unload here. Butch Hartman's streaming service initially was met with controversy due to how vague everything about it was. There were a lot of unanswered questions. We didn't know what kind of shows it would have outside of a few failed pilots that Butch had pitched to various networks in the years prior. Were there other creators had plans to affiliate themselves with the project? All of these unanswered questions lead a lot of people to think that this was all just a big scam. If I had to make a guess, I have a feeling that part of the point of the Kickstarter was to act as a proof of concept. A way to show investors that there was an interest in the service. While a quarter of a million dollars is a lot, that's still not anywhere NEAR enough to run an entire new entertainment platform. However, I wanna be devil's advocate here. Butch Hartman has some experience in this field.The Noog Network, is an app that he developed that specializes in family friendly animated and live action shorts all created by Butch Hartman himself. Not exactly the same as a streaming service, but still. And consider that Butch has ties to people in the industry, and has experiences running a business in the form of his nonprofit charity The Hartman House, MAYBE he could pull it off? Maybe? Possibly... But that's not where the controversy ends however! As footage leaked of old Butch-y boi speaking at a church event promoting Oaxis. Here he made several claims that many found to be a bit disconcerting. Such as claims that his streaming service would feature "Christian values" which is something not at all mentioned in his Kickstarter. As a Christian myself I've always thought of Christian values as things like kindness, generosity, respect. All things that aren't necessarily exclusive to Christianity. So maybe he meant like that. However, the fact that he was invited as a special guest to a church to speak about the service...It's definitely a little bit suspect. There's nothing wrong with making a streaming service aimed at Christian families, but you should at least mention it in the Kickstarter. That way people know what they're donating too. He later specified in a tweet that while the service wouldn't inherently be Christian themed, but since Butch Hartman is a devout Christian himself, that would always carry over into his work no matter what he does. It should be noted that in the same speech he list his previous shows as containing the same "Christian values" and I don't think anybody was ever converted to Christianity by T.U.F.F Puppy. I don't know. Man, between this and last years Castlevania, I love being forced to talk about my religious views in a article that's suppose to be about dumb cartoon shows. He also made a controversial claim saying that suicides are more common now of days because of peoples addition to cell phones and technology. Saying that because of these technology people not talking to their parents as much as a result. I'm not a researcher on this, so I have no idea if this is actually true. I could definitely see that could at least be partially true with things like cyber bulling and the lack of communication with parents COULD possibly be a factor in the increases of suicides. But it defiantly feels like a disservice to just ignore issues like mental health being a factor. I can defiantly see how people could of taken offense. All of this backlash lead to everyone's favorite 2018 game! "Attack people online until they apologize!" Cause as we all know, nothing makes an apology more sincere than when it's forced out of them by an angry mob! But eventually all the heat died down when all the "Butch Hartman Rant" videos stopped getting views, I mean, when there was nothing left to talk about. Overall, I think that the situation was just bad on all fronts. Butch should of said something to explain himself, and not be so vague in his goals. But also, we live in a day and age where I honestly wonder if that would of been the smartest move. It feels like once people have their opinion set, there's no going back. I mean how often to celebrity apologizes even work? Still though, smart or not, it would of been the right thing to do. However, I would like to point out that all of this hate started simply because he reached his goal. All the stuff about the church and his suicide comments all came after he was already getting hate for being a scam artist. But the thing is, we don't even know if he is a scam artist or not. Sure, the fact that he's barely talked about Oaxis at all since the Kickstarter was funded doesn't bode well. But from what I could fine, he's given out most of the rewards he promised. And on the Kickstarter page he says the site wasn't expected to launch until mid 2020. Do I think Butch will be able to pull this off? Probably not...but I hope he does. I want Oaxis to be a thing, cause I am interested in some of the shows he's talked about putting on there, like Elf Detective. And if you hate Butch and hope for Oaxis to fail, that's your prerogative. But if you are hoping for it to fail, than you're hoping that nearly thirteen hundred people got scammed out of their money. Just saying. Ugh! I'm sick of this drama. I want more uplifting Kickstarter news! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2rMCkNgHa3c
Homestar Runner was one of the first big web series that existed B.Y. Before Youtube. The series has been running off and on for about nineteen years now. And the creators, The Brother Chaps, decided to make a Kickstarter campaign to make a tabletop board game based on one of there series most popular characters. Trogdor, the Burniator. A poorly drawn dragon with an affinity for burning down cottages. The Kickstarter was set up for a goal seventy thousand dollars. Which feels like a lot for a board game, but hey, what do I know. While Homestar still has a very loyal fanbase, the series defiantly is nowhere near as popular as it was in the early to mid two thousands. And seventy thousand is a pretty hefty goal? Would a board game based on an outdated internet meme from 2004 really be able to make that kind of money? It reached it's goal in less than a day. And by the end they ended up making over one point four million dollars! I don't know what exactly The Brothers Chaps are going to do with all that money, but it's nice to know that the Homestar fanbase is still alive and well after all that time. And it's also nice to just see a Kickstarter that reached it's goal, delivered everything it promised, and didn't get into any major controversies. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Anyway, back to controversy. Cyma Zarghami, president of Nickelodeon since 2006, resigned. And people hate her because of some...controversy. Something about unions I think? Yeah, I didn't bother looking into this one. Between the Thundercats Roar drama and Butch Hartman stuff, I just couldn't go through all of this again. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, so I'm perfectly happy to be the ostrich with it's head in the sand on this one! However, like I said last time, it'll be very interesting to see what happens to Nickelodeon in the next couple of years. Without Butch Hartman, Dan Schneider, and now Cyma Zarghami I feel like Nickelodeon five years from now could be something completely unrecognizable from what it is today. And hopefully it'll be in a good way. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- But hey, this year wasn't all drama though. I mean look at all the new shows we got. Like Pinky Malinky.
DELAYED! Okay, well at least we finally have Young Justice season three...
DELAYED! The new Harley Quinn Cartoon...
DELAYED! FXX's Deadpool?
CANCELED! TBS's Close Enough from Regular Show creator JG Quintel?
WHO THE FU*K EVEN KNOWS AT THIS POINT? Seriously, what's with this year? It's like everything has been delayed! What the heck? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nickelodeon announced that they're making a reboot for the Rugrats. And just...why? Money- Yes, I know it's money! But it's a show about babies! When you make a reboot of something, the entire point is to update it. But when your show is about babies, how are you suppose to do that? Babies today are still doing the same things that babies did back in 1991. And with the first show having one hundred seventy two half hour episodes. What stories are left to tell? Then again, anything can be good. That Muppet Babies reboot (Which I didn't watch and isn't on this list) seems to be pretty well received. So maybe it could work. I don't know. I've never seen to much Rugrats growing up, so it's hard for me to get excited for this. But I'm sure someone will enjoy it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- So Netflix decided to drop all of their new series all at the end of the year. Their first one is Matt Groening's Disenchantment.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gp_RnJcb8Ig
The series follows Bean, the princess of the magical kingdom of Dreamland. She's a bitter snarky alcoholic, cause AGAIN, NEVER SEEN THAT CHARACTER DONE BEFORE! The series follows her, as well as her personal demon Luci and her elf companion Elfo through various misadventures. Think what Futurama did with Sci-fi but with a fantasy setting and you have this show. Only...Comedy Centeral era Futurama. I didn't really enjoy the first seven or so episodes of this show that much. The show wasn't bad per say, but it wasn't really anything great either. This show is aimed slightly more towards adults than Matt Groening's previous works, having a TV-14 rating instead of a TV-PG. The humor is a bit darker and edgier, and it lead to this very mean spirited feel over the entire show. The cast aren't particularly likable, and Dreamland just isn't a fun setting to be around. One thing I did like however was the fact that the show had an on going continuity and changing status quo. This is refreshing considering that Matt Groenings other shows (mainly The Simpsons) are famous for almost always returning to their status quo. But here's the weird thing, starting with episode 8, the show suddenly has this MASSIVE spike in quality out of nowhere as all the plot points that have been building over the course of the season all start to pay off. The characters all become a lot more likable. The stakes are raised. Like, it's weird how different these last three episodes are. I'd go into more detail, but unfortunately I can't due to spoilers, but trust me, the show gets better. It's not "classic Simpsons" or "classic Futurama" good, but still. It's not THAT far off. This sudden spike in quality makes it hard for me to decide how to rate this show. But since most of the run is pretty sub par, I kinda just have to average it out. Unfortunately due to the continuity you can't just skip till the end. It all really depends how patient you are. But even the bad stuff isn't awful or anything. It's just kinda bland. The show was picked up for a second season and I am looking forward to seeing where this show will go. I think that season two could be something great, but just talking about season one, it's...okay. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hey, it feels like it's been a while since we had a controversy.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZSOGZFfSDk
It seems recently there are so many streaming services out there creating there own original series, it's hard to keep track. You got Netflix, Hulu, DC Universe, Soon they'll be Disney+...Oaxis- So it only made since for a site like Cruchyroll to start making they're own exclusive content. You'd think they would just hire some anime studio to make originals for them like Netflix does. But no, they decided to go with a more American styled series. High Guardian Spice. The trailer doesn't reveal much about the show, but plot wise it sounds eerily similar similar to RWBY. About a group of girls all named after different spices going to school to become "Guardians." Whatever that means. There were a lot of reason people were upset. From it be a more Americanized looking series. To the fact that Cruchyroll's (from what I hear) site having some interface problems that some people would rather have them devoting the money on fixing. But the main reason people were upset was because of the series trailer spent more time talking about the diversity of the crew and characters than they did the show plot. Outrage was also sparked from the fact that they use the fact that they have an all female writers room as a sign of there "diversity." Even though having a writers room were everyone is the same gender isn't actually diverse. I have no problem with diversity in my stories. But the fact that they chose to focus on it as a highlight when they talked so little about the story of the characters is what has me worried. It makes me worried that the crew aren't confident enough in the series premise and characters to carry the series on it's own. It's better to make a story that's good first, and diverse second as oppose to the other way around. When you do it the other way, you end up with Ghostbusters 2016. I think. I never saw it, but I hear it's "okay" at BEST. People don't like things shoved down there throats, even if it's something they agree with. Most people support diversity. But when you tell them that they HAVE to support it, that's what makes people start to hate it. Humans are very spiteful creatures in that regard. However, despite all of that, I'm still kinda excited for this show. I LOVE the art style. And you all know by now that I love me a good girly cartoon. And many other shows that boast about their diversity (Like Steven Universe and She Ra, which I'll get to in little bit) still manage to be good. It can be distracting when you see a cartoon and know what ideals the creators are trying to push. I get it. But sometimes you just have to take the death of the author approach, and just see the show for what it is on it's own. You might be surprised by what you can enjoy. We'll have to wait to see how this show pans out. But if they're able to include some Mike Toole, I'm sold.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It seems like every year we have one BIG cartoon finale. 2016 had Gravity Falls. 2017 had Regular Show. And now after eight long years, it's time for Adventure Times Grand Finn-ale. ...I'm not sorry. Adventure Time ended with an hour long episode "Come Along with Me." I'll try to not spoil the special TOO much for those who haven't seen it, but if you want to go in completely blind I suggest skipping down to the next segment cause this is your SPOILER WARNING. The special revolves around the Gum War between Princess Bubblegum and her Uncle Gumbald. A plot that had been slowly growing all season. On top of that, Betty and Normal Man are trying to find a way to turn Ice King back into Simon. The things I do like about the finale is just the sheer number of callbacks that were made. While I think a few did go over my head, as there are a few episodes of Adventure Time I've never gotten around to seeing, it's nice to see so many returning concepts and characters. I'm glad they included things from the entire series run, instead of just the "classic" episodes that most people would recognizes. It rewards fans who stuck around for the long haul. It was also nice seeing most of the series lingering plot points wrap up. And we finally got to see the kiss that we've all been waiting years for. And kudos to CN for allowing them to do it. It was very brave of them. I am of course talking about LSP and Lemongrab, baby! Wooh!
There's also the ending. Which is just a montage set to the end credits song showing where all the characters end up after the series. I love endings like this so damn much, and while it didn't hit me as hard as Regular Show's finales montage, it still hits the feels.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mIkS8eGCKOU
The special does have it's flaws though. The Gum War really felt like an anti-climax and the shift to GOLB felt very out of left field. Also the fate of Uncle Gumbald left a very bad taste in my mouth. It kinda felt like they went against the whole point they tried to make. I admit that I didn't enjoy this finale as much as I did the Gravity Falls or Regular Show finales, but it's still sad seeing Adventure Time go. It defined cartoons of the 2010's. And I don't think they'res been a show since that's been quite like it. Even though the later seasons weren't as good, Adventure Time will always have a special place in my heart. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Netflix continues to pump out series after series with another new series, Dragon Prince.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PWEtCsi3Eo8
Dragon Prince is a series set in a fantasy world in the midst of war. On one side is the humans, and on the other side the Elves and Dragons. The series follows two human princes, Callum and Ezran as well as a elf assassin named Rayla, as they go on a quest that will hopefully bring peace to there world. The series features a lot of crew and voice actors who previously worked on Avatar: The Last Airbender. And it shows. I mean both shows follow a group of kids traveling through a fantasy world in the middle of a war. The seasons are called books, and each book based on a different element of the magic system. I was worried this show would falls end up being just a carbon copy of Avatar. But luckily, the show does manage to have it's own feel despite having a lot of stimulates. The animation is a bit of a mixed bag. It's cel shaded CGI, similar to RWBY. But despite the series being made by a company much bigger than Rooster Teeth, the animation is so much more lag-y. Something about the frame rate seems off at times. Also I noticed background characters being copied and recolored a few times in my watch. But none of this took me to much out of the experience. The characters and writing are all really good for the most part. One of the best parts of Avatar was how it showed that both sides of the war had normal people. And Dragon Prince takes this element and brings it one step further. Neither side of the war are depicted as wholly right or wholly wrong, with both sides committing terrible acts. That's a lot of complexity for a show that's aimed at children. However, there is a villain who, while I won't reveal who he/she is, feels very cartoonishly evil for this otherwise complex world. Like, you could make this character complex very easily. A lot of the villains goals and reasoning makes sense, and are even justifiable. But the methods used are just the most mustache twirling ways of achieving these goals, even when there are less evil ways of accomplishing the same thing. It's weirdly out of place. However, despite the flaws, Dragon Prince is a really good show that manages to feel similar to Avatar while still being it's own thing. I highly recommend you check it out. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Speaking of Avatar, Netflix is making one! Particularly a live action reboot. And just...Why? Money- Yes, I know it's money! But everybody already love the original Avatar! What is there to change? What needs to be updated? And what can be done in live action that can't be done in animation. It feels like all these live action remakes only exist in order to "legitimize" their animated counterparts. Cause God forbid something animated be watched by adults. I dunno. There's a very good chance this could be good, but I doubt it'll be better than the original series. I have no interest in this. Netflix, you have Dragon Prince! You don't need this! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- But Netflix isn't done yet! Cause we also have Hilda! Based on the series of graphic novels of the same name.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCojP2Ubuto
Hilda follows...Hilda. A young adventurous girl who spent her whole life living in a magical forest with her Mom. That is until one day her Mom decides to move to the city of Trolberg. Now Hilda has to learn to adapt to her new surroundings in the city, learn to make friends with normal humans, and deal with magical creatures. Cause despite the fact that Trolberg has a wall designed to keep magical creatures out, the city really sucks at doing so. This shows really cute! The art style reminds me of a cross between Steven Universe and The Loud House. But with any series involving kids interacting with magical creatures the comparisons are going to be brought up. Is Hilda the next Over The Gravity Garden Falls? Seriously, ever video on Youtube about Hilda brings up this comparison. And really, outside of the premise of "adventurous child exploring magical forest" Hilda isn't really like either of those shows. Hilda is a lot lighter in tone than those two series. The monsters aren't as scary and the humor is a lot less snarky. There aren't really that many "jokes" in Hilda as the series relies more on overall pleasantness. Also there isn't any real overarching mystery element in Hilda. It's more slice of life. Why can't Hilda just be the next...Hilda? It's a quaint show. From the animation, to the tone, to the voice acting, it all just feels so cozy. I also love the creativity with all the different creatures they come up with. It's has a unique charm to it, and it's fun seeing a world where everyone just knows magic exist and society has integrated with it. If I had to point out a few flaws, I'd say that the subplot they have with Hilda's best friend Frieda wasn't very good. I really have no idea what they were going for with that. And the show can be a bit repetitive at times, but that might just be because I had to binge it in order to finish it in time for this review. But overall this is a really nice show. Check it out if you can. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- OK KO is well known for it's crossovers from Captain Planet to Mighty Magiswords. But this year, they created the ultimate crossover. And if we could just appreciate the dedication to the past that the crew for OK KO clearly had when making this crossover? You all know what I'm talking about right? OK KO meet Scooby-Doo and the Ghoul School Baby! That's right, the crossover that we've all been waiting for.
... AND THEY SAID AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR WAS THE MOST AMBITIOUS CROSSOVER OF ALL TIME! They were even allowed to use the original Hannah-Barbara model sheets. This is notable as I think it's the first time OK KO has ever actually used a model sheet. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hey, everybody loves Fallout 76, right? While we all agree the game is a flawless masterpiece, I just wish there was a way to somehow make it even better. Like, what if we got the twitch streamer Ninja, The rapper Logic, and RICK AND MORTY to all live stream the game together? Now THAT would be a lot of IQ....
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zMZhhTOF4l8
... aNd ThEy SaId ThAt AvEnGeRs: InFiItY wAr WaS tHe MoSt AmBiTiOuS cRoSsOvEr oF AlL tImE!! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I swear, Netflix won't be satisfied until they make at least one thousand original animated series a year. Here's She-Ra and the Princess of Power. Not to be confused with She-Ra: Princess of Power. That's the 80's show. Good job naming your show there, Netflix!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OuFQxsRzUws
This is the cheesiest theme song ever, I love it so much! Now, from what I understand, a lot of OG She-Ra fans don't like this reboot because it changed so much from the original. However, as someone who knows next to nothing about She-Ra or He-Man, I'm can't really comment on any inaccuracies. So I'm going to have to judge it as it's own thing. She-Ra follows Adora, a child solider serving as force captain in The Horde army. But one day, after finding a magical sword in the forest, she gains the ability to transform into the Hero, She-Ra. Not long after that she finds out that, shock of all shock, the army that's literally called THE HORDE are actually the bad guys. so she defects from the Horde, and joins the Rebellion with her new friends Bow and Glimmer. Now Adora, along with a growing army of magical princesses, must find a way to fight back against the Horde. Meanwhile The Horde, specifically Adora adopted sister/possible...lover Catra try to bring her back to her "home." I like this show. It's not amazing or anything. But it's a fun, girly action series. That's something I like about Netflix, it's one of the only channels out there that's not afraid to do action series. While the characters aren't that complex, they're fun and all have good chemistry together. Everybody feels like a real person. And this applies to both the Rebellion and the Horde. The show does a good job of juggling a lot of characters, while still keeping focus on the main cast. AND YOU WANNA TALK SAD, LONELY LESBIANS! THIS WHOLE SHOW IS A SAD LONELY LESBIAN! Though did anyone else find it a bit strange that Adora's relationship with Catra seemingly bounces back and forth between "sister" and "lover." Like, I don't care which way you go with, but you really need to pick one or the other... I know a lot of people are annoyed by the fact that a lot of classic designs and characters were changed to make the show more diverse. I didn't mind this to much. Adaptations change race, sexuality, and body types all the time. And I can only think of one time where it ever felt distracting, and even then it was brief. I never found it to bothersome. Downsides though, the tone is kinda wonky at times. Nothing to noticeable, but sometimes it seems like the show is trying to be a serious action adventure, while other times it feels like it's trying to be campy like the 80's series. There's an episode called "Princess Prom" and it's one of the turning points in the season. Like, how am I suppose to take this seriously. But luckily it never gets that bad. I think the show is somewhat aware of a wink and nod nature to the show. It's a fun series. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- And unfortunately, we have to end the year on a downer note. As Stephen Hillenburg, creator of Spongebob, passed away at the age of 57 from ALS. I don't know what to say. I hate taking an entire human beings life and acting like there art is all that mattered. But as I don't know the man personally, I'll just say that he created one of the most well know fictional characters of all time. Spongebob is the first thing most people think of when you say Nickelodeon. And it's one of the few characters that I think will be remembered even a hundred years in the future, along the likes of Mickey Mouse, Bugs Bunny, and Popeye. Even in death, his legacy will live on. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- And with that, we end 2018 year in review! It's been a hell of a wild ride! But how does the year rank overall? First, we'll start with my old favorite. Ranking the series in a way that'll end up regretting in a month! Keep in mind this is a rough list. List aren't really my specially, and each show offers and is going for it's own unique thing. So sometimes it's hard to compare them. Also these rankings could change in the following year as new episodes come out. But if I had to rank them... 9. Apple and Onion 8. Craig of the Creek 7. Final Space 6. Disenchantment 5. Nomad of Nowhere 4. She Ra and The Princess of Power 3. Ballmastrz 9006 2. Hilda 1. Dragon Prince And keep in mind that, due to both a lack of time and lack of cable, there were a lot of shows I wasn't able to check out or just wasn't interested in discussing. Like these! (Big City Greens, Harvey Street Kids, Mega Man: Fully Charged, Muppet Babies, Our Cartoon President (HAHA! Trump jokes! Never seen those before!), Paradise PD (Cause we definitely need another show from the makers of Brickleberry!), Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Star Wars Resistance, Summer Camp Island, Super Drags, The Adventures of Kid Danger, The Epic Tales of Captain Underpants, The Hollow, The Shivering Truth, Total Dramarama) As for the grade, it's a bit tricky. If I had to go just by the shows, I'd give it a B. They're weren't many shows I LOVED but they're weren't many shows I outright hated. Most shows this year were "good." But if we decide to count all the drama, that would drag the year all the way down to a C. There was just so much drama that, along with a few other personal reasons, I found myself kinda falling out of the animation community as a whole this year. And when the drama actually starts making you wonder why you entered this community in the first place, that's not a good thing. So take that for what you will. As for best network, I once again have to give it to Netflix. I know it's kinda unfair since I didn't watch any Nickelodeon or Disney shows this year. But with so many more shows and channels watching a show from each is getting harder and harder. And Netflix is just pumping out series after series. And most of them are pretty good. It feels like the people at Netflix are really given free range to do whatever they want over there. And we get some really unique series as a result. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 2018 may not have been the best year for animation, but I really think that 2019 is going to be a really good year. I mean just with what's already been announced we've got so many good series to look forward to! There's Infinity Train, Owl House, Amphibia, Los Casagrandes, Victor and Valentino, Gen: Lock, Harley Quinn, Young Justice Season Three, Theoretically Close Enough! Plus a lot more! Seriously, next year I'm either going to have to cut out a lot of anticipated series or make this a three part-er. Which would you prefer? And what did you think of 2018 for animation? What series were the best, and which were the worst? Leave any thoughts in the comments down bellow, I'd love to hear em. Fav, Follow, and comment if you like the review. And have a great new year. And let's all hope that 2019 can have a little less drama. Um, isn't Thundercats Roar and High Guardian Spice coming out next year too? 2019 is going to be the biggest dumper fire ye- Have a great day. (I do not own any of the images or videos in this review. All credit goes to there original owners.)
https://www.deviantart.com/joyofcrimeart/journal/2018-Year-in-REVIEW-Part-2-779673316 DA Link
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Spiritual Log August 9 2019
I was very surprised at the responses to my Lion's Gate 8/8 post, thank you all so much. Sending you all 💖 right now, and maybe later too. Thank you, I hope it served you well. I rarely ever get any note on these posts so I don't know if any of my info transmissions help anybody at all, but lately I guess the messages get received by those most in need, so thank you for the responses. 😊 So anyways... This post is mostly what shifted for me a few hours ago while the portal was still at its peak. For those who haven't done so, no worries, though, the 8/8 lion's gate energies will be active until the 12th, so if you need to cleanse and heal your energetic bodies and systems, you can do more till that day, because the amplified energies can wash away more of the old and icky stuff than regular days. If you want to really do shifts, I suggest doing the clearings from Sunday to Monday, along with your strong intentions of attaining your best and highest vibration. I support you in your higher spiritual evolution goals! 😊
Warning:long post ahead. You have been warned. With 💓😅
OK, so I was gonna post this as soon as it happened but I just finished meditating the Magic Mantra (Ek Ong Kar Sat Gur Prasad) and I didn't wanna ruin the moment or my manifestations so I just treaded and went straight to Reiki healing and listening to subliminal stuff. (You can check out my previous post on July 6 if you're interested in what I am doing at the moment. Intense stuff 😅). The following are the events that lead to what happened this morning as I was using the remaining energies of 8/8.
For the past few days since the Lion's gate portal opened around July 26, I had the strong urge to meditate and clear as much energies from my body as possible. I wasn't watching any video or reading much posts, it was just intuition, so I forgot to post that Lion's gate portal was gonna start opening. Maybe next year I'll post a reminder too. *fingers crossed* The feelings started to flood in, the really intense, horrible pangs of my wounds, mostly the loneliness and abandonment and poverty mindset issues, they came in quite strong, but I just did whatever I can to face them, ask if they were mine and then transmute accordingly (spoiler alert: 50% of the time they weren't, so I just told them to go back to where they came from, with conviction. If they leave ASAP, they're not yours to begin with. Also, congratulations on learning you're an empath, my friend.😆). When I say transmute though, it just means letting them go, either through
Talking them out of your body (if the feelings are not that intense) or
Crying them out, loud and hard, and really feeling the feelings out (if they're persistent AF and apparently they were yours lol)
I wanted to cry them out but I couldn't (because I haven been repressing so much stuff) so I just tried meditating actively (I recommend kundalini yoga for this, the mantra and the limb actions can be a workout, like my arms get sore a lot after these sessions, so yeah, two birds with one stone 😄). I also kept reciting the Mul Mantra till the end of July, as well as listening to subliminals and doing Reiki (I listen to other people's Reiki videos, I channel the energy myself, or just do a combo by channeling Reiki as well as receiving some from other people. I may post something about that later *puts it in reminders along with a zillion stuff lol). I guess the combination of doing a lot of stuff helped me ground better and lets me become an observer to my feelings and emotions, because seriously I just can't deal with low vibes while I'm enjoying my alone time, which weirdly has been getting more and more frequent.
Not that I hate being alone though, but because each time I do fun stuff by myself, and right when I'm really having the fun settle in, a strong wave of loneliness rushes in, and that really makes zero sense. ZERO SENSE, RIGHT?? So either it was my deep wounds of loneliness, neglect, abandonment and rejection that were still lingering in my systems, or I was tuning in to someone else's stuff, albeit strongly. It became annoying AF when I was reviewing my Japanese language lessons and pretty much learning a lot of stuff, when images, visions, smells, sounds, stuff like that kept popping in my head, then the feelings of loneliness, sadness, those things. It was pretty distracting and annoying. It came to a point when I was tired 4 hours after waking up that I finally stood up for myself and said "Whoever *tf* is siphoning my energies, go back to where you came from and stay *tf* away from me!" That really shook me awake, the second I finished hollering it loudly in my head I woke up with a start. I literally became alert, awake, alive, enthusiastic, like wth just happened.
This morning though, around 2AM just when I was halfway through my lessons the strong feelings of despair, sadness, loneliness, and everything else in between came again. The whole thing was so intense, it was actually scary. And it wasn't fear-based too, like I was really trying hard to fend it off but apparently,
The feelings were almost all mine
The energies were tremendously strong
I had a strong urge to flush energies out
I felt I was gonna die if I didn't do it
I had to rush my lessons just to get to it right away. (Thank goodness I still know how to conjugate verbs, or else).
I immediately started meditating like crazy, with a strong intent to release everything that has been preventing me from being my best self. I tuned in, started chanting, and then started doing Reiki, then subliminals before dozing off. Honestly midway through chanting Ek Ong Kar Sat Gur Prasad I was already feeling calm and at ease, the feelings went from a scale of "If I don't do this I'm gonna die" to "Heck yeah I don't mind dying right now" I was around the "Meh" mark, which is not that bad. But really, the feeling of danger really was there, I don't know why, if it's a collective thing because of so many things that have been happening lately, or if I was tuning in to my own darkness and I really had to flush it out. It was a scary AF experience and the fact that it sorta went away was pretty mind-blowing. But I'm not saying I had fun here. Not that diving into spirituality is all fun anyway. The sucky stuff has to appear so these can be released back to Source.
So these were the summed-up experiences of my energy clearings and healings so far. Apart from intense dreams, having broken sleeping patterns, and weird eating habits, I guess this is how my spiritual journey is for me, at this point in time. Honestly I just wanted to go to Mount Fuji but apparently the spiritual gunk that I had to release was just as huge, maybe even higher. *siiiiigh*
Well, I guess this is my partial log for doing my clearings, I may be around the 60-day mark now, but I feel like I havn't done much since I did skip some days due to flu and other stuff. I will still do my best to clear out stuff, the Lion's gate portal may soon end but there are still equinoxes and solstices so there are still many energetic portals coming soon so might as well do the clearings and healings. I may update or I may post other stuff, because I still have some stuff to write here, especially the tough love info transmissions.
Thank you for reaching this part, I hope this post was worth your while. Sending you love and hugs from Source above.
Mikazuki
三日月🌙
P.S. If you have any questions with whatever I posted here, please send a message or comment below. 😊
P.S.S. I may start posting Reiki-infused photos in here, I was inspired to. But still thinking what photos though. Please let me know what you think. 😊 Thank you!
#thought log on spirituality#about meditating on 8/8#lion's gate portal post#it was weird#lion's gate portal#what happened
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now recording {chapter one}
When upcoming YouTuber Lucy Heartfilia finds herself collaborating with popular channel Fairy Tail, she ends up getting more than she bargained for. ( ff.net // ao3 )
aka the youtuber au no one asked for but i’m delivering anyway
Lucy presses the 'upload' button, then proceeds to fall face-first on her keyboard, her energy completely drained. "I never want to edit another video again in my entire life," she whines, turning her head towards her bed where her dog Plue is sitting. "Do you wanna learn how to edit videos, Plue? You could be my star editor."
Plue tilts his head for a total of two seconds before deciding the pain of editing isn't worth it and jumps off the bed.
"Yeah, didn't think so," Lucy sighs.
It's not that she hates her YouTube channel. Quite the opposite, actually. It's one of the only places she can truly be herself. She started it when she was new to her neighbourhood and didn't have any friends around to talk to, so she just sat at home and watched online videos all day. The combination of charisma and creativity had inspired her to try it out for herself, and now she's in deep with her subscribers in the hundreds of thousands. Why, exactly, she still doesn't know, but she's not going to question it. If people out there actually like her makeup tutorials and writing journals, then who is she to complain?
With her own video uploaded for the day, she ventures into her subscription box. There are plenty of new videos for her to watch, but she specifically looks for videos by the members of Fairy Tail, who are one of the biggest creators on the entire platform. They are her biggest inspiration, the main reason she started YouTube in the first place. They made her laugh when she felt alone being away from a home she couldn't (and still can't) return to.
One of her favourite members of the group is a girl called Levy, her personal channel named levyreads. It's not as wild as Fairy Tail's main channel gets, and is more about book reviews and tropes than anything else, which is why Lucy loves it so much. Books and writing are her life. Despite never having met Levy, she feels a connection to her just by their hobbies. It's astounding how easy it is to feel like you know a person without saying a word to them.
Levy's video today is a Q&A, so Lucy sits back and lets herself enjoy. It's mostly about either books or her personal life as well as a few out of the ordinary questions here and there. Everything is normal.
And then it happens.
"Alright, iheartmermaids from Twitter asked, 'If you could do a collab with any YouTuber, who would it be?' Oh, I know the answer to this one right away. Definitely Lucy from HeartxLucy! I watch her with Mira and Lisanna all the time, she's an aspiring author and she does book reviews as well, but she also has all these makeup tutorials and fashion videos that are fantastic. I don't know if she watches any of us, but if she does, she should definitely hit us up for a collab. I'll have her channel link in the description."
Lucy has to pause the video so she can scream for as long as she wants without missing anything. She's sure her neighbours think she's being murdered with how loud she's being, and Plue quickly rushes back into her bedroom at the speed of light, making whimpering noises. She stops so she can kneel down to pet him and assure him that she's alright.
"I didn't mean to scare you, Plue," she says, slowly regaining her composure. "I just can't believe Levy noticed me. Mira and Lisanna, too!"
This doesn't mean anything to Plue, who just rolls over for a belly rub.
Once Plue is satisfied with the attention he's received, Lucy returns to her computer, now much calmer than before. Rather than continuing the video immediately, however, she diverts her attention to the comments section and, after a moment of hesitation, starts typing.
'That moment when senpai notices you. (And I'd love to do a collab!)'
She presses send before she can convince herself otherwise, then pretends it never happened and presses play. She spends the rest of night watching videos until she's too tired to keep her eyes open, and even then, her last thought before her mind drifts into unconsciousness is whether she said the right thing. She quickly decides that even if she didn't, she's too tired to change it now.
Lucy wakes up with her face squished between her pillow and her phone. She can feel Plue lying on her back, and to this day, she still doesn't understand why he insists sleeping on top of her in some way. He's lucky he's cute. Still, she has to get up, and she gently pushes him to the side so he lands on a soft cushion. He doesn't wake, even when she slips out of bed to go to the bathroom and grab herself some cereal.
Once she's done both those things, she plops herself down at her desk and slides her mouse so her computer wakes from its sleep mode. The screen is, as always, on YouTube, and it's then that she remembers the previous night. She goes through her history until she finds Levy's video and quickly scrolls down to the comments section. To her surprise, her comment is the top-rated with over five hundred replies and counting. Most of them are positive words, saying that the two of them should definitely do a collab, even giving them some ideas.
The comment that really grabs her attention is the one from Levy herself. 'Well, I guess we have a collab to plan!'
Ecstatic, Lucy almost closes the entire browser while opening a new tab to get to her emails. The easiest way to get in touch with her is to send a message to her business email, and she's always said as much, so it's no surprise that Levy chose there to message her. She holds in an excited squeal as she opens the message and begins to read.
'Hey, Lucy!
I've always wanted to do a collab with you, though I didn't think it'd be happening this quickly! I didn't even know you watch my videos! But I have a few ideas on what we can do, and feel free to add some stuff.'
Below is a list of ideas Levy has, and she's indicated which are her own ideas and which are from the comments. Lucy thinks all of them are fantastic, but she eventually decides on one that catches her eye and types up a response, making sure she proof-reads before sending it.
'I love all these ideas, but I think maybe the Writer VS Reader one? We can make a script for all the different scenarios, things like that? I don't know where or when you wanted to do the collab, but I'm fine with just about any weekend, since I have work most weekdays.'
If there is one thing Lucy is unsatisfied with in her YouTube career, it's that she doesn't have the money to do it full time. Granted, she could if she sold her house for something smaller, but where she is has a lot of sentimental value, as well as being easily accessible to so many places in town. And there is never any guarantee that another place would let her keep Plue.
'You could always go back home,' a nagging voice in the back of her mind tells her, but she quickly pushes it away. That is not an option.
Levy responds within the hour. 'Great! Is this Sunday good for you? I don't know how much time we'll need to prepare, but if we need to extend it, we totally can. Actually, is it alright if we exchange numbers? It's usually easier for me to sort these things out via text than email. Only if it's okay with you, of course!'
Lucy doesn't respond right away. Instead, she grabs the nearest post-it note and writes down a reminder for Sunday. She's not missing this for the world.
Sunday comes quickly, but it seems that Levy's concern about needing an extension wasn't necessary. Lucy is more than over-prepared. It's a habit of hers, really. Unless she's doing a daily vlog, she doesn't really dive into things unprepared, or wing it. It's just not her style. Thankfully, Levy seems to be the same. The two have a lot in common, something Lucy was able to find out during their text conversations. It's nice to be friends with a fellow YouTuber (or anyone at all, really, because she hasn't made a friend since moving away).
The drive to Levy's place doesn't take as long as she initially thought it would. It's just under an hour, though it would probably take longer if there was the same amount of traffic on a Sunday as there is on a weekday. Levy's neighbourhood is colourful and bright with narrow streets and beautiful gardens. For someone like Lucy, who lives right by the highway, it's a nice change in atmosphere.
She parks in the driveway after checking the address for the tenth time, then grabs her bag and camera before heading to the front door. She knocks and waits, unable to stand still, and she keeps herself calm by shifting her weight from one foot to the other. The door opens a few seconds later, and she's promptly greeted by a light laugh and a camera in her face.
"Lucy, hi!" Levy says, tilting her head so she can be seen around her camera. "I'm just recording for the daily vlog while Jet and Droy are out. They went to film some Eat Droy at this new restaurant in town. So, tell us what we're doing."
The camera is more of a comforting presence than anything, so Lucy is completely herself as she says, "We're preparing that collab we promised you. I'm not telling you any more than that, it's a secret." She presses her finger to her lips and winks as Levy laughs again and turns the camera off.
"You really are a natural at this," she says, and Lucy realises for the first time how short she is in real life. "Alright, want something to drink before we get started? Or after?"
Lucy decides on after, and so they get to work. With the two of them so prepared, they make easy work of it, and they're done sooner than planned. It's nearing lunchtime when they decide to call it a wrap, and Levy insists that she stay and eat in thanks for doing the collab with her. Lucy protests, says that she should be the one thanking her instead, but Levy insists. That's how they end up sitting at Levy's kitchen island with a grilled sandwich each.
Levy turns her camera back on and turns it towards herself. "We've just finished filming, so now we're having some fantastic lunch made by yours truly. It's not as good as Droy's, I guess, but it'll do."
"What? I think it's fantastic!" Lucy says, quickly swallowing so she can keep talking. "It's better than the instant noodles I usually end up eating."
Levy gasps. "You dare diss the absolute art of the instant noodle?"
Lucy almost chokes on her food as she laughs, but she doesn't get the chance to reply as the door opens and a loud voice is heard from the doorway. "Oi, Levy! Do you have any old books I can blow up?"
The man that appears in the kitchen is just as familiar as Levy is. Natsu Dragneel (Salamander, for those YouTube watchers who don't care for learning real names) is another permanent fixture on the Fairy Tail channel, is one of the loudest of the group. He's very entertaining to watch. Lucy is subscribed to his personal channel, too, and loves both his gaming videos and the vlogs with his cat. The explosion portion of his channel isn't exactly her style, but the reactions his roommates have when he blows up their stuff is hilarious.
Levy's free hand is on her hip as she says, "No, Natsu, I still haven't forgiven you for when you blew up my spare bookshelf!"
"You weren't using it!" he defends.
"That's not the point. Besides, you can't just blow up books. They're sacred. Lucy will back me up on this."
Lucy is surprised at being dragged into the conversation, but considering it's about the protection of the written word, she doesn't mind that much. "It really is. You're destroying part of us when you destroy books."
Natsu turns to her, blinking as though this is the first time he's seen her. It probably is. She wouldn't be surprised if he didn't notice her before. "Oh, hey, I know you. You're that one chick that Levy and Mira and Lisanna watch, right? Uh, Luigi?"
Lucy narrows her eyes. "It's Lucy."
"Right, Lucy." He grins and strides over, taking the last piece of her grilled cheese and shoving it in his mouth before patting her shoulder. "Thanks for the food! I'm gonna go find that food magazine Droy promised I could borrow."
And with that, he saunters out the kitchen's other door. Lucy looks back at Levy, who's still recording, and shakes her head. Levy clearly thinks the whole situation is hilarious, if her giggles are anything to go by. Lucy just rolls her eyes and smiles.
Lucy leaves not long after Natsu does (he said something about not trusting his cat to be home alone for too long before disappearing out the door), and when she does, Levy tells her they should collab again. Lucy agrees. Even if their collab isn't that successful - though she thinks it will be, because it's Levy's channel, and Levy is amazing - she knows that she will. She and Levy have become such good friends within the span of a week, and she's not about to let that go.
After making Levy promise her to text her as soon as the video is up, just in case she's at work, she heads for home. She doesn't think she's felt so satisfied with a video in a long while.
She continues talking to Levy for the next couple of days, and she keeps an eye on the channel. More so than usual. Yet it's not the collab video that comes first, but the daily vlog from the day they filmed it. It makes sense, considering daily vlogs are, well, more daily than other content. It's still exciting regardless, and she makes sure to watch it when she's on a work break. She sits down in the break room, plugs her earphones into her phone, and presses play.
It starts with Levy being excited for the day, explaining that Lucy would be there later on before letting the usual Jet and Droy hijinks ensue. Lucy waits impatiently for her arrival, and she finally reaches what she's looking for halfway through the video, a grin on her face as she watches herself appear in Levy's doorway. It then transitions to their lunch before Natsu walks in like he owns the place. Lucy giggles as she watches her own reactions to his antics, and she keeps watching as she scrolls to the comments section.
'OMG LEVY AND LUCY COLLAB MY LIFE IS COMPLETE GOOD THING TOO CAUSE I'M GONNA DIE WHEN THE VIDEO COMES OUT HOLY SHIT.'
'natsu you can't just eat someone's grilled cheese oh my god.'
'LUIGI'
'#savelevysbooks2k17'
'natsu and lucy look so cute together? like i ship it so hard? tHEY WERE IN THE SAME ROOM FOR BARELY A MINUTE AND NOW LOOK AT ME I HAVE A PROBLEM.'
Wait, what?
She keeps scrolling, wondering if she'd read that wrong, wondering if that was a one-off comment. Spoiler alert: it's not.
'petition for lucy and natsu to be in more videos together pls.'
'THEY INTERACT LIKE THEY'RE FRIENDS EVEN THO THEY'VE JUST MET!'
'i know i'm jumping the gun here but natsu and lucy? yessssssss.'
Lucy screams so loudly that her boss kicks her out and forces her to get back to work.
#fairy tail#nalu#natsu dragneel#lucy heartfilia#savelevysbooks2k17#and yes eat droy is based on eat jin i'm not sorry#bUT YEAH REMEMBER THAT YOUTUBE AU I TALKED ABOUT#HERE IT BE#**myfanfic#**nowrecording
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words: 3,162 warnings: mentions of starving one's self, bullying authors note: happy birthday mork bork lee i love you so much btw this is my first scenario so don't kill me lol genre :🌼🌸 angst/fluff "honestly, y/n isn't even that pretty, I have no idea why mark is dating her." "There are so many other talented girls he could've dated..." "There's nothing special about her." "ah... she's so chubby, she should diet." "maybe if she fixed her body and face, then she'd be good enough for mark." "she looks so bad in that skirt. Y/n please fix your stretch marks, thank you." "She should eat less. Y/ N looks like a pig." "Mark deserves so much better." You scrolled through the comments under the recent article that was put up on Naver. You were currently at the MBC building , visiting Mark before one of his last Cherry Bomb promotions. • During the past week someone had caught you and your boyfriend, Mark , out on a date. The two of you had been so careful the past seven months to keep your relationship on a down low , but the simple drop of the hood from the wind and slip of the mask exposed your relationship to the public. Your thoughts rushed around your head as the sound of camera shutters clicked filled your ears. "Isn't that NCT's Mark Lee?" "Who's that girl with him?" "They aren't on a date are they?" Mark had grabbed your hand and made a run for it. Once the coast was clear of paparazzi and pesky fans , Mark noticed the worry in your face. "Don't worry, I won't let anything bad happen to you okay , love?" "But Mark-" "The public were to find out eventually. Better now than later , right?" He kissed the top of your head and held your hands. A few days after the release of the pictures , SM released an official statement that yes, the two of you were dating. You had been dating a few months prior actually. The usual things such as " Please respect the privacy of Mark and Y/N" and " we hope you stand by his decision " were also included in the statement. Of course there were the sweetheart fans who were behind everything that Mark did. They sent loving comments to Mark and genuine kind words to you as well. You always loved reading their comments. They made you feel better about this whole situation but in the other hand , there were fans who disapproved of your relationship with Mark. The amount of mean comments dominated the nice ones. "Don't mind it , Y/N. The fans who write all the terrible stuff are just immature. They're the ones who can't get over them selves." He had said to you. You wanted to listen to him , you really did , but the amount of hate you started to receive was something you couldn't stay away from. Mark's fans had found your social network accounts. They sent messages telling you how much they despised you. You even got death threats one time in your Instagram dm. You were pretty sure you had over 100 people blocked by now. Majority of the comments body shamed you. You yourself weren't the standard slim and tall, beauty, but you weren't terribly over weight either. Yes ,you had your imperfections such as a tummy , thighs , stretch marks, and cellulite , but you celebrated these things rather than letting it get yourself down- usually. All the mean things people were saying were starting to get into your head. You now took a good look at yourself in the mirror and watched your self esteem deflate. "Maybe they're right... I could lose a few pounds... I need to eat less... will skipping meals work? Should I get a nose job? It all hurt. " You thought. Everything was just so overwhelming by now. You had shut yourself in your home for the last week, sobbing in your bedroom. "What has my relationship come to?" you asked yourself. As the days went by , everything had been getting increasingly more difficult for you. Today, just leaving your own home felt like something you couldn't accomplish. As you walked the street some fans had noticed you , even through your mask and sunglasses. They took that opportunity to spit angry words in your face. You just bowed to them politely and went on your way. • Taeyong sucked in air though his teeth as he checked the article on Naver for the nth time. "Mark, you've read the article haven't you?" The teenage boy looked at his leader though the mirror , while the makeup artist put the final touches on his makeup. "Hyung, I've probably read it more than you and all the other members combined. I've read articles on other sites too." Taeyong bit his lip. "I'm guessing you've read all the comments under the articles then as well. " "Trust me. I know what people are saying about Y/N. I've seen it all." Haechan looked up at Mark from eating his food. "I wonder how she's taking all of this." By now, all the stylists and managers had left the room for a short while. Mark sank back in his chair, leaning his head back. "She can't be taking any of this too well. She's getting attacked by pretty much our whole fanbase." WinWin commented while munching on a cookie. Mark let out a groan. He felt terrible that all of this was happening to you. You were receiving more hate for the relationship than he was. Guilt crawled up his spine. This all wasn't fair, especially for his precious Y/N. Mark ruffled his hair in frustration. "Do you guys know how many times I picked up the phone to Y/N sobbing? All of this hatred from fans has gotten to her . She says that she doesn't think that she's enough for me. She says that NCT won't do well because of this setback - I don't want her to think like that- I need to take some of the blame too-" Mark hadn't realized that his eyes had become watery. The boys watched in silence. They had never seen Mark in such a upset state. He was normally so happy and cheerful. The tension in the room was slightly released when one of the stylists who had been in the room earlier popped her head into the room. "Mark," she said softly , catching the raven haired boy's eyes, "It looks like Y/N is here for you." She whispered. The boy's head quickly snapped up. He hadn't seen you for a while and was dying to once again. When he quietly entered the hallway, he found you with your back faced away from the door. "Huh, Y/N looks thinner than usual..." Being a few inches taller than you he peeked over your shoulder, the small smile on his face quickly disappeared. Mark pursed his lips as he saw you scrolling through your direct messages , reading what terrible things people had sent you. He waited a minute or two and also watched you open the web browser to the articles , your eyes running over each comment left. He had had enough. His arm reached over you and snatched your phone right out of your hand. Realizing that your phone was soon taken away from you, a groan escaped your mouth. You sharply turned around with a glare and fumes radiating off of you. "Excuse me-" Your mood quickly calmed as you saw Mark standing in front of you. "M-mark." You sputtered. "Y/N" he breathed. Mark immediately enveloped you into a hug , sending warm waves all over your body. You missed him. You really did. Entering the waiting room once again , hand in hand , the members greeted you politely. Mark led you into one of the corners of the room and sat you down on the couch. You immediately cuddled up to him, his arms wrapping around your waist and your head lying on his shoulder. The two of you made small talk , avoiding what's been happening on the social media outlets. As time went by, you felt his fingers intertwine with yours. You smiled and stared at the size difference in your hands, admiring the warmth they gave you. "Oh, Y/N , we have food. Do you wanna eat?" You turned your head in the direction of Jaehyun's voice. Sitting up , you starred at the food and chewed on your bottom lip. "U-ummm...." "Come on babe, go eat." Mark dragged you over to the table on the other side of the room where the other members were. You sat down on the floor and gave Jaehyun a small bow as he put a bowl of rice in front of you. You thanked them for the food as observed as they all started to eat. You sat there for a while and watched everyone dig into the delicious looking food. Taking a small piece of a radish side dish, you popped the vegetable into your mouth and chewed slowly. You didn't want to admit it to anyone but you had been skipping a lot of your meals for the time being. Things that the fans were saying about your body really took a toll on how you viewed yourself. You mentally groaned as Mark put more food in your bowl. "Eat." He said while munching on some beef. "Ani, Mark , I'm okay..." you said while putting your chopsticks down. "Y/N, you barely ate anything at all." He pouted , serving you more food. You shook your head , gazing at Mark. Your stomach churned but you didn't want to acknowledge it. "Mark, I said no." "You told me you rushed out and didn't get to eat breakfast. Y/N , you have to eat something babe." "I don't want to eat ,Mark." You felt your vision start to get glassy. Nausea filled your body and the thoughts of the comments rolled in once again. • "God, how could someone that ugly date my Mark? Mark is for everyone , you ugly ass girl . Stop keeping him to yourself. Y/N darling, please have some control at the dinner table. Where can I send money to you? You need to get your face fixed Y/N" • You knew it was going to be difficult to date an idol, but you didn't think it was this hard. How naive of you , Y/N "I told you I don't wanna eat..." you whispered. The member's attention was now fully on you. You hadn't realized you had started crying till a tear fell onto your hand. "Y/N...? What's wrong...?" Mark's eyes widened. You sobbed and sobbed, not caring what the other members thought. The words spilled out of your mouth. "I can't take it anymore, I really can't. Don't people know that words hurt? 'Y/N , lose weight ' ,' Y/N , you need to get your face redone.' 'Y/N is ugly' ' Y/N doesn't deserve to be with Mark' , it all just hurts. I've been starving myself just to deal with your fans Mark. I just want them to like me and I want all of this harassment to stop. I love you , I really do , but it's just so hard." Hot tears flooded down your face , the members looked at you with pitying expressions. They felt sorry for what was happening . "I feel terrible for Y/N, I just wanna hug her right now." Doyoung whispered. Mark stood frozen in his spot , he was angry with the fans but he knew that this anger wouldn't get him anywhere. He hated seeing you cry, it broke his heart . Pulling you close to his chest, he hugged you stroking your hair and placed as many kisses on you as possible. " Y/N... please stop crying... those terrible people don't deserve your tears." You hugged Mark back but shook your head. There wasn't anything that you could do to keep the waterfall from your eyes from running. "I'm so exhausted Mark, I'm tired of listening to them." "Boys? It's time for your stage." You pushed Mark away and dabbed your eyes with a tissue. "Go on." You told him quietly. Mark bit his inner cheek. He wasn't going to leave you like this. Something needed to be done. As the boys filed out of the room ,Mark grabbed your wrist and pulled you out as well. "W-wait, Mark where are we going- Minhyung-!" He was pulling you past the members and through the doors to the stage. Your heart started to race. What exactly was Mark doing? The back stage crew looked at the teenage boy with a puzzled expression. He turned on his mic and squeezed your hand. Taking a deep breath he led you up the stairs of the stage. "Mark, what on earth are you doing? Are you sure this is a good idea!? You going to get booed off the stage if you bring me up there." "Just trust me Y/N , okay? " You trembled as you walked up the stairs. Looking back the NCT members stared at what was happening in front of them. You gave them a concerned look but all they could do was shrug. As the hot, stage lights hit your face, you squinted and gazed out into the crowed. Most of the seats were occupied . When the crowd saw Mark , their initial reaction was the fan girl norm- screaming their lungs out. But when then soon saw that Mark not alone,the cheering died down and whispers fluttered around the room. "Oh My god, its Y/N." "What's she doing up on stage with Mark?" "Yikes, she really decided to wear that today?" "Does anyone know what's going on?" You tried to pry your hand away from your boyfriend's but him grip seemed to be too tight. "Mark, let me go..." The boy covered up his mic and whispered. "No. I need to do this. I need to be the type of boyfriend that protects his girl in any type of situation. It's my job to protect you Y/N." You stood there, eyes wide at his words. "M-mark... n-no..." you frantically looked at the other NCT members standing on the side of the stage. They were just as shocked as you were giving you shrugs. Mark never was reckless like this- they never thought that he would do something to this extent but it seemed that he really cared about you . Mark uncovered his mic and let out a cough. He gave a slight wave to the fans in a awkward motion. "Thank you for all the fans who came out today... I really appreciate and love that all of you are here." Mark gave a small cute smile to all the fans causing them to squeal. "So... I know you guys know who this is." He stated , gesturing to you. You looked into the crowd and glanced at the bitter faces of the fans. They shot you looks of death and jealousy making your stomach curl. You wanted to run of stage , but you were so fear struck , your legs refused to move. " There's been a lot things being said about Y/N online , I've seen most of it," the fans started to chatter nervously " I know that the decision I have made has hurt most of the NCTzens and I'm truly sorry, but please, please be respectful to Y/N . I'm not asking for you all to like her, whether you do or not, that's up to you. I just want you all to think of how she feels right now. Imagine if you were in her shoes, would you like to hear and see nasty comments being thrown at you?" Mark squeezed your hand. You watched as some of the fans faces turn guilty. They shook their heads. "I really... love Y/N and I hate seeing someone I care about get hurt. If you have anything to say to her , say it to me instead ." You felt like your heart was about to explode as he said that he loved you in front of the fans. You squeezed his hand back. "Stop messaging her on her private social media accounts , stop body shaming her , stop telling her that she needs to get plastic surgery. Stop being childish fans who don't have the decency to give a guy and his girl some privacy. I wish you all could see what a great person she is without judging her by her imperfections first. Y/N is beautiful just the way she is," he turned to you and looked you dead in the eyes. "You don't need the reassurance of the fans , you're the most beautiful and most genuinely humble person I know. That's why I love you. You honestly make the the happiest guy on this earth." Mark turned back to the fans. "Please you all, please leave Y/N alone." And with that note, Mark took you off of the stage. The set was dead silent. He brought you into the hallway. You looked up at him anxiously. "You didn't have to do that." Mark shook his head and caressed your cheek. "Yes I did. I promise I won't let anything like that happen to you again ,okay?" The day went on as usual. You went home while Mark continued on with his schedules. It was 10 o'clock at night when you heard a knock at your door. "Hello- oh." You were greeted to a panting , out of breath Mark. "Snuck out of the dorm again?" "You know it." As the night went on , the two of you snuggled up on the couch , watching Studio Ghibli movies. You got a notification on your phone from a close friend sending you a video link.Tapping on the link it opened to a video that someone had taken earlier at that e MBC building. Biting your lip you watched the video with Mark by your side . "I can't believe you did that." You whispered. Mark chuckled and kissed your cheek. "What did your manager have to say about it?" "Let's just say he wasn't too thrilled about my behavior earlier , but what could I do ? I wanted to help you." Looking up at Mark , you smiled and gave him a soft kiss, letting all the butterflies fly around your stomach. "Taeyong hyung blamed it on my puberty , don't worry." Scrolling through the comments one last time you smiled seeing that some fans took it upon themselves to apologize for the way they behaved. Although there were still those who said the unthinkable . Smiling, you rolled your eyes and shut your phone off. "You're right." "Right about what?" "That it doesn't matter what the fans think of me. I don't have to listen to them. I have a guy who loves me inside and out and that's all that matters. I love you , Minhyung" Another sweet kiss was shared, oh, and lots of cuddling too.
#mark lee scenario#mark lee scenarios#mark lee#NCT u#nct dream#nct127#nct scenarios#jaehyun#taeil#doyoung#johnny#haechan#yuta#winwin#taeyong#nct angst#nct fluff
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Bears, Boxes and Broken Bones [Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader]
Request: could you please write a fix where the reader & Lin get more serious and the reader & readers daughter semi move into Lina bachelor pad and he finds it weird and then at the end of fic he realises he wants to make a family with reader???? Ish??? Idk??? :)
Word Count: 1,696
Warnings: broken wrist? is this a warning? haha other than that, none!
A/N: So, I changed the request just a tiny bit and made the reader’s daughter a 10-year-old, not a teenager (idk why, i think i like the idea of Lin interacting with kids). Also a huge shourout to mackie @protecting-my-legacy that helped me with this and got a little homage -sof’s injury-. Hope you feel better soon Mackie! So i guess that’s all the notes i have for this one, hope y’all like it! (PS: i am the worst with titles i hate this title but don’t let it define this fic lmao)
askbox | masterlist
“I think you should move in.” Lin’s voice is almost a whisper, but it wakes up from your half-asleep state.
You and Lin have been dating for almost a year, but for some reason he never mentioned you moving in or vice-versa, maybe that’s why it took you so much to comprehend what he was saying. “Wait, what?”
“Don’t you think it’s time?” He says as he plays with your hair. Cuddling in bed with him and having nothing to worry about was always the start of an important conversation for the two of you: The first time this happened, you decided to introduce Lin to your daughter, Sofia. She was 10 and the result of your first marriage, a problematic relationship that didn’t last more than two years. You regretted many things about it, Sofia wasn’t one of them.
“Well, I guess? Do you think it’s a good idea?” You asked, now tracing random patterns on his chest with your finger. “I mean, you can move to our place…”
“My place is bigger, closer to Sofia’s school and the Richard Rodgers.” He simply answered. Lin tried not to show, but you know he put a lot of thought on that idea.
“We’d have to talk to her about it, are you sure?” You turned to him, placing a few strands of hair away from his face. “Do you really want to give up your man cave, Lin-Manuel?”
The teasing tone on your voice - and calling him Lin-Manuel - made he wrap your hands around your waist and turn you against the bed, his body now hovering over yours and making you giggle. “Man cave, my place is not a man cave!”
“Your clothes on the floor and the empty fridge beg to differ.” You replied before pulling Lin to a kiss. “What time is it?”
“Almost two, I guess…”
“Shit, we need to pick Sofia up at four.” You said before getting out of the bed. Your ex-husband, Jess, stayed with her every two weekends, and these were usually the weekends you’d stay at Lin’s.
“Okay, let’s go.”
You parked in front of Jess’ place at precisely four o’clock. Sofia was standing by the door with her father next to her and a teddy bear in her arms, her face brightening when she saw you hop off the car.
“Mom, look!” She said, running towards you with the toy. The bear was wearing period blue clothes, that you soon recognized as Alexander Hamilton’s outfit from your boyfriend’s show. “This is Alexander Bearmilton!”
“Wow, he’s so handsome!” You acknowledged, pulling your daughter into a hug.
“I can’t wait to show Lin!”
“He’s in the car, why don’t you go there?” You placed a kiss on Sofia’s forehead before she ran off to the car, where Lin greeted her with a hug.
“She wouldn’t stop talking about Hamilton” Jess said, with his hands on his pockets.
“Lin took her to see the show on friday, she fell in love with it.” You commented, not taking your eyes off your daughter and Lin.
“He’s a good guy, [Y/N]. I’m glad you found someone good for you.”
“Thanks Jess, I’m glad you found Alice too.” You replied. “Sofia likes her.”
“Not as much as she likes Lin.”
You were both still watching Sofia and Lin talk in the car: Lin now had grabbed the bear and started to play with it, probably singing some Hamilton song you couldn’t listen as your daughter laughed and sang along.
“Yeah, he’s a keeper.”
one week later
“Two more boxes and we are all set.” You said as Lin came back into the apartment for what seemed the millionth time that afternoon.
“And that’s because you’re still keeping stuff here.” He added before placing his hands on your hips, pulling you closer.
“You know I can’t sell this place just yet. Sof grew up here, it means a lot to us.”
“I still can’t believe she was so cool about everything.”
“Me neither, she’s the best.”
“Who’s the best?” Sophia entered the living room with her bag and a backpack, ready to go. You both looked at her and you couldn’t help but smile, she was so smart and beautiful.
“You are!” Lin exclaimed, letting go of you and turning to her. “Are you ready to move?”
“I guess… Mom, did you see my sketchbook?”
“I did, it’s already in a box somewhere, you can get it once we start unpacking.”
“Okay.” She said, before turning back to her room, leaving the bags on the floor.
“Where are you going?” You asked, making her look back to you and Lin.
“I’ll check if I didn’t forget anything.”
“Okay, we’ll leave when you’re ready.” You said, resting your head on Lin’s shoulder and receiving a forehead kiss in return. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here.” You answered, wrapping your arms around him.
“There’s nothing in the fridge!” Sof’s voice echoed through Lin’s apartment as you finished packing. She gave up opening the boxes hours ago, after finding her sketchbook and pencils, going to the kitchen table and occupying herself with her own creativity.
“Sorry Sof, I didn’t have time to go shopping this weekend!” Lin shouted back while going to where she was. “Wanna order something?”
“Maybe pizza?”
“Pizza sounds great.” He agreed, his eyes going from Sofia to the table full of drawings. “Hey, did you draw these?”
“Mh-mm” she nodded, joining Lin by the table. “I tried to draw Peggy, because she’s little like me.”
“I can see, this is really good!” You were passing by the kitchen when the scene caught your attention. Making as little noise as possible, you watched your boyfriend and your daughter interact like they were, well, family. “I think we should hang this on the fridge, Jasmine would love to see it.”
“Can you maybe take it to her?” Sofia’s voice was way too excited, making her blush and Lin let out an adorable laugh.
“Of course! She’d love to see your art, I bet the other cast members would too.” You couldn’t help but smile when your daughter jumped on Lin’s arms before staring babbling about how she wanted to draw everyone so they wouldn’t feel left out. Once she left the kitchen, Lin noticed you standing by the door, watching the whole thing. “Hey you.”
“Hey.”
“How long have you been there?”
“Some time.” You replied as he got closer and you automatically wrapped your arms around his neck. “Sofia really adores you, you know?”
“She’s amazing, did you see how good her drawings are?”
“I did! I raised her, you know?” You answered, giggling.
The loud noise on the other room interrupted the cute moment between you and Lin, and the sound of your daughter crying made you rush to see what happened.
“Love, are you okay?” You arrived in Sofia’s room to find her trying to get up from the floor, her tears streaming down her face as she held her wrist.
“I- I- I fell… Mommy, it hurts so much.” You brushed her tears away with your hands before assuring her that everything was going to be okay.
“I’ll get the car keys.” Lin rushed out as you picked Sofia up and stormed to the car.
“So it’s just a small fracture in her wrist, she’ll have to wear a cast for at least four weeks. But besides that, she’s perfect.” The doctor’s words removed all the agony from your chest, and apparently from Lin’s. Sofia was sitting between the two of you, silent, her wrist now immobilized by bandages that would soon be replaced by the cast.
“Is there any medicines she needs to take? Anything we need to know?” Lin asked, and you couldn’t help but notice his leg was bouncing, just like every time he’s nervous about something but didn’t want to show, almost like his energy being redirected to an specific action as a way to cope with everything.
“Just… be careful with what she uses to deal with the itch the cast may cause, I have removed way too many pencils and forks from casts before, it’s not pleasant.” The doctor winked at Sofia, that replied with a small smile. “I think you guys are good to go.”
“Thanks, doc.” Lin shook the doctor’s hand before standing up and following you and Sofia all the way to the hospital hallway. “How you feeling, Sof?”
“Better. It still hurts… A little.” He smiled before placing his hand on Sofia’s shoulder, guiding her out of the hospital.
“Good thing you’re a leftie, you’ll be able to finish the drawings for the cast if ou want!” You commented.
“No way! I’m a leftie too! High-five!” Lin lifted his hand for Sofia, that laughed and high-fived your boyfriend. The connection between them was unreal, and you were so grateful for having him by your side. You remembered the times you had to take her to the hospital by yourself when she was little, having to struggle between the paperwork and a sick toddler. On the way to your apartment, you heard Lin and Sofia talk about her going to see Hamilton again the next week, so she would be able to hand the drawings herself and say hi to the cast.
He was good with kids, he was good with your kid, and you loved him even more for that.
Later that evening, after sending Sofia to bed, you snuggled next to Lin on his couch, his arms open to embrace you as you sit down. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Everything. Having us here, taking care of Sofia with me.” Your eyes were locked on his, and you noticed his smile growing and his eyes glowing as you spoke.
“It’s the least I can do.” You smiled back, your fingers tracing his cheeks before placing a kiss on his lips. “[Y/N]?”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever considering having another kid?”
“Well, I guess.” You noticed his intentions right away. “Why do you want one?”
“Maybe…”
“I think we can talk about that.” You replied before laying your head on his chest. “I love you.”
“I love you too, [Y/N].”
#lin manuel miranda#lin manuel miranda x reader#lin manuel x reader#hamilton imagine#hamilcast imagine#lin manuel miranda imagine#my writing
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